Hearts Out of Time

by Chris Lange

She took a step backward, parting their bodies, and instantly read puzzlement and confusion in Garrett’s eyes, in the way he stood.

  “You’re right, Garrett. We should go and enjoy a humungous breakfast. Give me a minute to check on Dad, and I’ll join you.”

  “Go ahead. I shall tend him.” He swallowed his obvious disappointment like a well-bred man who allegedly lived for higher considerations.

  She concealed a grin. “It’s okay. Really, I don’t mind. I’m not going to pass out because I skip a meal. I can very well—”

  “No, Tracy. I wish for a moment alone.”

  She was about to object when she noticed his discomfort. His uneasy shifting struck the right chord and she began babbling. “Holy moley, I see. I’m so sorry . . . of course, you need a moment. I mean, you know I didn’t mean to . . .”

  Heat flaring up her cheeks, she shut up before taking a long breath and retreating toward the carriage door. “Don’t mind me. I’m already gone.”

  She wheeled around to get out of there as fast as her legs allowed, wishing he’d forget about this awkward incident. Without minimizing her own embarrassment, she had bigger fish to fry.

  The Drifter clinked and clanged along the tracks. They were making their way back to San Francisco, and that was all that mattered. They didn’t find the irrelevant painting at this point, but who cared about a stupid safety catch anyway? Her dad was safe, and, God willing, he’d be back to his precious labs in no time.

  In the parlor, her three traveling companions and a wolfdog were still having breakfast, but nobody appeared to be bursting with joy.

  Weedon gestured her to join them as soon as she came in the car. “How’s your father?”

  “Very weak.”

  Sitting away from Weedon and White Fur, his face unreadable, Jake set his cup down on the table. “Did he say anything? Did he tell you where the painting is?”

  “No. And, honestly, I don’t give a rat’s ass about the damn painting. All I care about is Dad’s safety.”

  The gunslinger opened his mouth again, but with a frown, Jessica waved him away.

  Jake got up, sulkiness invading his features, while the vampire huntress gestured for her to sit down. “Of course you do, Tracy, and you must trust that William will be fine. At least you’re in good health. We were so worried about you and Garrett last night. We followed your trail but you’d disappeared.”

  Tracy felt a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry about that, Jessica. Thanks for your concern. You’ve already done so much for me, all of you.”

  Tracy included the men as well with a sweep of her hand.

  “It’s been a pleasure and an honor to serve you, Tracy,” Jake said, reverting to his charming self, his blue eyes twinkling and roguish smile flashing.

  Such an attractive and compelling man when he wasn’t in one of his moods, Tracy thought.

  Weedon wiped his mouth with a napkin. “So, what’s the plan now?”

  “Take Dad back to San Francisco and call a doctor,” Tracy replied. “Beyond that, I don’t know. I guess we’ve got to wait until he feels strong enough to talk. He’s the only one who can tell us what happened to him.”

  She’d barely finished her sentence when Garrett emerged from the car door, his eyes riveted on Jake.

  “I, too, am unduly eager to hear William’s tale. Aren’t you, Cooper?”

  After that, silence prevailed until they reached San Francisco by mid-afternoon. Tracy spent the day in the bedroom, sitting by her father, reading and pondering. At Oakland Long Wharf, The Drifter was turned over to service men for repairs. Garrett sent for a doctor straightaway once the ferry had transported them across the bay.

  They all agreed to have a meeting at Garrett’s mansion as soon as her dad rested in a comfortable bed, but Jake left them to go to his place, invoking a need to freshen up. Jessica let him without a single comment.

  The physician already waited for them when they got to the mansion on Nob Hill. He followed Garrett who carried her still-unconscious father to the guest room on the second floor. Servants brought drinks and snacks in the sitting room while the group waited for the prognosis.

  A while later, the doctor came back downstairs. “Mister Richardson is suffering from a dehydration that led to shock and fever, but his life isn’t in any danger if he takes care. I gave him a tincture. Make sure he drinks and rests as much as he can.”

  “Gosh, I wish I had some aspirin,” Tracy said. Too late she remembered that she was a stranger in another dimension where this medicine might not exist.

  The physician riveted his attention on her, his eyebrows flexing. “As a matter of fact, I have some here with me. Though I have doubts about its potency. I’ve mostly been giving it to ladies who think they might have the vapors.”

  Tracy blew out a relieved sigh. So they had it after all.

  The physician measured out a dose and handed it to her.

  “Thank you so much, Doctor.”

  “You’re welcome. Mister Richardson has regained consciousness, so you can go and see him now.”

  The physician laid his instruments back into his brown bag, stood up, and took a last look at Weedon. “As for you, young man, your arm will heal nicely as long as you avoid strain. Will you be able to do that?”

  “Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on doing anything rash. Thank you, sir. I feel much better already.” Weedon nodded with enthusiasm while he waved his bandaged arm, making the physician cringe slightly.

  “Good. Well, then, I’m needed in another part of town. I’ll drop by tomorrow evening to check on both my patients.”

  Jessica picked up the doctor’s coat, and handed it to him. While he donned the garment, she indicated the door “I’ll show you out.”

  They walked toward the front door, the doctor’s voice turning into mumbles as they moved away.

  Not bothering to excuse herself, she nodded to Weedon and ran upstairs. She rushed to her father’s side, glad to see he was awake. Sitting on the edge of the large bed, she took his hand in hers. “Oh, Daddy, I’ve been so worried.”

  “My dearest girl, I’m sorry for the mess I got you into. I never meant to cause you so much trouble.”

  “It’s okay, Dad. It’s over. Now, all I want is for you to get better.”

  She cocked her head toward the sound of approaching footsteps before a voice gave her delicious goose bumps. Garrett stood in the doorway.

  “Am I intruding?” Garrett asked. “I can come back another time.”

  Her father attempted to straighten but quickly gave up. “No, it’s fine. Come over here, my boy. I’m sure I owe you my thanks for taking care of my daughter.” He reached toward the nightstand.

  She moved faster, grabbing the glass and bringing it to his lips so he could sip some yellowish medicine left by the doctor. While her dad drank, Garrett passed the threshold of the guest bedroom and came to stand beside her, his back straight as a metal plate. “Sir, it has been an honor.”

  Her father managed a weak smile. “I didn’t think you two would ever meet, but I’m glad you finally did. Tracy, didn’t I tell you he was trustworthy?”

  “Sure, Dad. Garrett has been very . . . helpful.”

  She sounded embarrassed to her own ears and prayed her father wouldn’t notice. Of course, he did. Catching her unexpected awkwardness as well as Garrett’s shifty stance, he eyed them with suspicion.

  Chapter 16

  “What’s wrong, children?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Dad,” Tracy said, hating the tremor in her voice. “It’s just that I’ve been so worried about you, I haven’t been myself lately, but everything is going to be all right now. You’re here, and you’ll be up and around in no time. Oh God, I’m so happy we found you. If . . .”

  Her voice trailed off, lade
n with relief, before she bent over to kiss the back of his hand. She sensed Garrett’s restlessness when he took hold of a chair and moved it to the other side of the bed.

  “Sir,” Garrett said, “have you any ideas regarding your abductor’s identity?”

  “I’m afraid not. I wish I could help you find him but I’d never seen him before. All I can say for sure is that he’s British, well-spoken, and schizophrenic. He also has a strong tendency for mayhem and destruction. I got the impression he was rather new in San Francisco, but he’s well aware of my Everett program.”

  “What does he want?” Garrett asked her father.

  “Power, I imagine. If he gets the means to cross over, he’ll be able to destroy worlds or rule over them. Now we must do everything necessary to prevent him from having his way. This is precisely why I founded The Circle, although I should have kept you better informed, my boy.”

  Her father scratched the bridge of his nose as he admitted his fault to Garrett who, in turn, didn’t show any sign of resentment. She suspected Garrett wouldn’t allow himself to harbor any negative feelings toward his awesome, extraordinary, wonderful mentor.

  Her mouth pressed tight. “Tell us what happened, Dad.”

  “Do you remember how you first got to this San Francisco?”

  “Sure,” she said easily.

  “I was working in that lab, finalizing a new program before going home. I’d even planned to have dinner with you that evening.”

  “Are you kidding me? How could I forget that lab? I was positive the telepod didn’t work until I spotted Garrett. I didn’t want to believe him, but he took me outside and showed me differently.”

  She’d always remember that disturbing morning and the first time she laid eyes on her damn attractive, irritating lover. His strict three-piece suit, his formal manner of speaking, the elusive hint of mockery in his eyes.

  Cornering the vivid, exciting recollections deep within her mind, she tossed a cloth into the bowl of fresh water sitting on the night table, wrung droplets out and dabbed her father’s forehead. “Well, Dad, it turns out you didn’t make it to dinner.”

  “To say the least. I admit, I was so engrossed in my work that I failed to hear the trespasser until it was too late. He threatened me and requested the painting. Obviously, he’d heard about the safety catch.”

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  Fatigue wearing him down, her father started inhaling deep, long breaths then blinked a few times before replying. “Without any time to elaborate a better plan, I told him he’d find the painting in my house on Bonita Street. I activated the Everett program for him and I gave him my bracelet. Then he knocked me out. I guess he went straight there.”

  “He did,” she said, “and he ransacked our home. While he was at it, he called me. But, Dad, there’s something I don’t understand. Your watch allows you to cross over so why do you carry the bracelet with you?”

  A weak smile on his face, he looked at her with a fondness that warmed her heart. “I made this piece for your mother. She never knew about my project so she didn’t get to use the bracelet, yet it reminds me of her. Perhaps I’d better conceal it in a box but I like having it with me.”

  Tracy discarded the cloth to squeeze his hand, happy to realize her father still harbored loving sentiments for her late mom. His grin deepened a little as he curled his thumb to stroke the back of her hand. “I knew something like this would happen sooner or later. I’ve feared it since you were a child which is why I left instructions for you.”

  “I found them.” Oh, yeah, she did. The box buried in the garden, the letter dictating her to lock herself into a futuristic telepod, and the furious beating of her heart as she’d done it. She pouted while her father continued.

  “Anyway, when I came to, my attacker was back from our world, empty-handed. He accused me of being a liar, and told me he’d kill you if I didn’t take him to my main lab. The funny thing was that he seemed to be in a real hurry. I gathered he assumed he’d locate the painting in Gold Run.”

  “Well, you did lie to him,” she pointed out.

  “Did not. The painting is at home. I simply stored it in the attic room after your mother passed away. She’d purchased that piece of art and she loved it so much I find difficult to look at it.”

  His declaration of love brought tears to her eyes and swept away her grudge. At least, for the time being. She stared at her father and noticed new wrinkles across his brow. This huge mess took a toll on him although he’d never admit it. As if to confirm her thoughts, he turned his face toward Garrett.

  “The only person I lied to is you.” With that, he tried to prop himself up but fell back down on the pillows with a wince, and settled for looking at Garrett. “I assured you that I’d stored the painting in my Gold Run lab and I’m sorry about that, my boy.”

  Garrett stepped forward. “There is no need to apologize, sir. I believe you did what was necessary, but what about the safety catch?”

  “Ah, that’s a different matter. These past weeks, I’ve had hints that someone was prying into my affairs so I made up that story to mislead him. There never was a safety catch, and the painting is nothing but a decoy.”

  Tracy let go of her father’s hand in astonishment, shifting her gaze to Garrett, who grinned impishly, then back to her dad.

  “What? All this time we’ve been chasing after a decoy?” she asked, trying to process the new information.

  “Yes.” Her father’s eyes twinkled.

  “Gosh, Dad, you’re wicked.”

  “I guess you could say that and, thank God, it worked. My abductor could have used my invention anytime, but he wasn’t aware of that. What bothers me though is that he knew about the painting, yet I’ve been careful not to divulge that information outside of The Circle. How on Earth did he get wind of it?”

  Garrett observed her father with a grave expression that darkened his eyes. “Jake Cooper. I believe he might be in league with the vile abductor.”

  “Jake?” Her father struggled to sit again. “Oh no, my boy, you must be mistaken. Jake is an agent and a loyal man. Whatever gave you that idea?”

  Garrett pursed his lips and didn’t waver. “Sir, with your forgiveness, you may not have noticed his behavior of late. Jake has been acting oddly.”

  Tracy patted her father’s hand. “Garrett’s right, Dad, listen to him. Jake doesn’t strike me as being loyal or reliable either. Besides, he’s kind of sleazy.”

  Maybe she’d better shut the hell up instead of siding enthusiastically with Garrett. Too late, though.

  Straightening his shoulders against the fluffy pillows, her father raised a questioning eyebrow. “Well, it seems to me like you two are unquestionably in league.”

  She and Garrett exchanged a knowing look. Hoping her dad didn’t catch it, she cast him a brief glance before putting the dose of aspirin on the nightstand, next to the glass. His shrewd gaze didn’t leave her as she spilled out a new question to keep his attention away from her the awkward moment. “So you went to Gold Run with the Englishman?”

  “He threatened you. I didn’t have a choice.”

  “I guess not.” When her father saw Garrett’s nod, he said, “When the madman realized the painting was nowhere around, he threw a fit and locked me up in the storeroom. He probably meant to coerce me, but I think he left me there to die. He is insane.”

  Her father brought a hand to his mouth and coughed several times.

  Garrett took up the narrative. “I trust he then told his men to get rid of The Circle and kidnap Tracy. With the father uncooperative, he must have decided to blackmail the daughter. Sir, had you not tricked him into thinking the safety catch was real, his scheme could have proven fruitful.”

  “Daddy, it must have been awful for you.”

  “Not th
e best of times, that’s for sure, although I knew you’d come for me. You’re my little girl, smart and strong-minded.”

  His surprising assurance gave her goose bumps. She’d needed to hear those words for long years, so why did he wait until now to show his real feelings?

  The fine hair on her nape stiffened as Garrett spoke. “And she has done sterling work. I trust you have great pride in her, for she’s a lady of wondrous character.”

  Her heart bobbed up and down. She rubbed the sides of her arms as the vital organ dropped back where it belonged. Listening to Garrett’s praise felt even better than a bitchin’ Irish coffee. The man was as good a poet as a lover. If she wasn’t careful, she could easily get addicted to him. But her father’s low tone belied the growing suspicion on his features while his sharp gaze stayed on Garrett’s face. “Indeed she is. And I expect you won’t forget she’s my daughter?”

  “Certainly not, sir.”

  Yet she saw Garrett squirm a little. Did her father’s warning remind him of his excitement when he thrust his hard shaft into her? Whatever, she needed to put a stop to this archaic protectiveness.

  “Dad, stop bugging him and get some rest.”

  “Yes, I do feel tired. If you don’t mind, Tracy, we’ll go home tomorrow morning. I don’t want to but it’s probably best if I check into a hospital.”

  Although her father had effectively ended all her hopes to spend more time with Garrett, his physical well-being remained more important. She eyed him suspiciously. But how sick was he really? Sure, he looked weary but nothing a few good nights’ sleep wouldn’t fix.

  “Okay, but what about the Englishman?” she asked.

  “Garrett can deal with him. Won’t you, my boy?”

  “Certainly, sir. Have no fear, he shan’t be an obstacle.”

  “Very good.” With that, her dad’s eyelids drooped.