by Sherry Lewis
Working in the soil had always calmed her, and today was no exception. The earth felt warm and rich beneath her fingers, and she soon lost herself in the simple pleasure of working with nature. The sun caressed her shoulders through the fabric of her gown and she gave in to the urge to feel the sun on her face, her legs, and arms.
Tossing aside the bonnet, she hiked the skirt to her knees, loosened the pins in her hair, and shook it loose. She tilted her face to the sun and closed her eyes. Immediately, all her worries rushed in to disturb her again.
Had she been wrong to turn Zacharias away? Had she lost him forever? Could she win him back? What if she seduced him?
A delicious shiver shook her, but she forced it away. No matter how much she loved him, she couldn’t make love to him without telling him the truth first. She’d pulled the truth from him—grudgingly at times—and she’d hate herself if she tricked him. Worse, he’d hate her once he learned the truth. And she couldn’t delude herself into believing he wouldn’t. The truth always worked its way to the surface. Always.
Guilt for hiding it from his this long doused the gentle flames of desire that warmed her. She hated deceit. She believed in truth. But she’d spent nearly a month lying to the man she loved. Looking him the face, kissing him, letting him open his heart to her and lying.
How sympathetic was that?
She had to tell him. The trouble was, she didn’t know how. She’d nearly frightened Meg to death with her confession. What would Zacharias think if she blurted the truth? He’d probably give in to his mother’s demands and put her in an institution. Or divorce her and run back to safe, sane, devious Patricia.
That thought brought her up short. Was she any less devious than Patricia? No, she realized with a rush of guilt. Not one bit less. Zacharias was surrounded by women who’d lie to him for their own ends. She had no right to pass judgment on Patricia or Victoria when she was doing the same thing to him. She couldn’t say she loved him out of one side of her mouth and lie to him out of the other.
She didn’t know how long she sat that way before she heard footsteps crunching in the gravel. Her eyes flew open and she blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden, bright glare.
“Agatha?”
She recognized Zacharias’s voice before she could see more than his shadow, and her heart flipped over in her chest. As her eyesight adjusted, she could tell his gaze was riveted on her bare legs but she couldn’t read the expression on his face.
She tossed her skirt back into place and scrambled to her feet quickly, embarrassed that he should find her looking so disheveled.
He averted his gaze quickly and studied the clumps of weeds and dirt she’d tossed onto the path. “You’re busy, I see.”
“I was just pulling a few weeds—nothing earth-shattering.” She made a vain attempt to do something with her hair.
To her surprise, he reached out and stayed her hand. “Leave it. I like it that way.”
Her heart lurched into overdrive at the touch of his hand and her knees threatened to fold and land her right back on the ground when she looked into his clear, blue eyes.
She lowered her hand slowly, wishing he’d pull her into his arms and take her breath away, sweep her from her feet and carry her upstairs. That he’s make her his in every way and remove this paralyzing doubt from her mind.
But he did none of those things. He dropped his hand and toyed with a sheet of paper he held in his other hand. “I. . . ” He broke off uncertainly, averted his gaze quickly, and tried again. “I’ve seen a light upstairs the last two nights. Have you been having trouble sleeping?”
“Some. But why have you been awake so late?”
“I’ve had business to attend to.” His gaze flitted across her face, then away again.
“At one in the morning? Is something wrong?”
“No.” He shifted his weight and sent her a half-hearted smile. I was taking care of some correspondence.”
“For the saw mill?”
“Yes. . . ” Again that uncertain gaze caught hers. “No. Not exactly.”
She waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. His hair caught the sunlight and invited her fingers to lace through it. “It must have been important to keep you up so late.”
“It was.”
Again, Shelby waited. Again, he clammed up. She brushed a lock of hair back from her shoulder and turned away to make him less uncomfortable. “And what brings you to Summervale this morning?”
He smiled nervously. “I thought it would be a good idea for us to spend some time together.”
Her heart gave a little skip, but she tried not to show her elation. “Oh? Well, you’re welcome to help with the weeding if you’d like.”
Zacharias scowled at the pile of weeds on the path. “Why isn’t Colin doing this? You don’t need to dirty your hands or get callouses—”
“Colin doesn’t even know I’m out here,” Shelby interrupted. “Besides, I love working in the gardens.”
“Oh?” One of his eyebrows winged upward. “When did you take up gardening?”
Too late, Shelby realized she’d made a mistake. She tried to back-pedal. “That’s not exactly what I meant. I meant that I’ve wanted to begin gardening.”
“You said you’d missed doing it.”
“I misspoke.” Shelby zeroed in on another weed and gave it a yank. “It looks soothing,” she said as the roots rained soft dirt down onto her lap.
“And is it?”
“Very.”
Zacharias nodded slowly. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He took a step or two away, then turned back to face her. “Would you stop that?”
“Stop?” Shelby halted with her hand around another weed’s neck. “Why?”
“I’d like to talk. About us.”
She took an unsteady breath and wiped her hands on her skirt. “We do need to talk. There’s something I need to tell you— It’s about the other night. I’d like to explain why I sent you away.”
“I’m not upset about the other night,” Zacharias assured her.
Now that Shelby had started, she wouldn’t let herself stop. “It’s just that,” she said again, then rushed on before she could change her mind. “I haven’t been myself lately.”
“You are different,” Zacharias agreed, “and I like the change in you. It suits you. It suits me. And that’s what I came to tell you.”
She shook her head quickly. “I mean I really haven’t been myself.” She took his hand and led him toward the stone bench a few feet away. He followed her willingly, even if he did seem a little bemused. “I need to explain—”
He touched her cheek lightly and sent a wave of despair mixed with longing through her. “Whatever it is, Agatha, don’t say it.”
“But I have to.”
“No, you don’t.” He cupped her face with his hand and ran his thumb across her lip. “Let me tell you why I’m here.”
She was sorely tempted, but she couldn’t chicken out now. If she did, she might never tell him. “This is important,” she insisted.
“So is what I have to say.”
“But—”
His brows knit and his eyes clouded. “Dammit, woman, will you be quiet? You’re making it damned difficult to woo you.”
He couldn’t have stopped her better if he’d bound and gagged her, but horror, not joy, brought tears to her eyes.
“Now what’s wrong? What did I say?” Zacharias shot to his feet and paced an agitated step away. “I told Philip I was no good at this—”
“No. You’re very good. You’re here to woo me?”
Zacharias dropped to the bench beside her again. “It occurred to me that perhaps I’ve been a trifle . . . uncouth . . . in my efforts to show you how I feel.”
“Uncouth? No, Zacharias, you’ve been wonderful—”
He cut her off with another quick scowl. “Will you please let me say what I’ve come to say? I’ve rehearsed for two days, and you’re making me forget the finer points.�
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He looked so serious, so distressed, she clamped her mouth shut.
Apparently satisfied, he spoke again. “I told you I was taking care of correspondence, and I was. I wrote this—” He pulled a letter from his pocket and held it out to her, “—for you.”
“What is it?”
“For hell’s sake, Agatha, if you’d just read it you’d know that it’s a love letter.”
“A love letter?” She took it quickly and clutched it tightly.
“Now what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just so . . . sweet.”
“Sweet?” He snorted as if she’d accused him of something horrible. “It’s not sweet. I just thought I should tell you how I feel about you, that’s all.”
She started to open the envelope, but he stayed her hand as he had earlier. “Don’t open it now.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” He waved his hand and tried to look annoyed, but she could see uneasiness lurking just beneath the surface. “Because you should read it when you’re alone.”
She smiled softly, so touched by his obvious discomfort, by his sudden shyness, she thought her heart would burst. He was so different from the angry, scowling, bitter man she’d met her first day in Summervale, it took her breath away.
He pulled back and deepened his scowl. “What are you smiling at?”
“You seem ill-at-ease.”
“And you find that amusing?”
Shelby wiped the smile from her face, but not from her heart. “No, not amusing. Endearing.”
Zacharias met her gaze again, but he seemed a little less rigid. “Endearing?”
“Very.”
“Endearing enough to earn a kiss?”
“Or two.”
“Endearing enough to—” He broke off and shook his head as if trying to rid himself of an unwelcome thought. “Two. And perhaps I should claim them now, before you read my feeble efforts and discover how inept I am at the gentle art of courtship.”
She went willingly into his arms and tilted her head back for his kiss. She put every ounce of love she felt into the moment, knowing that when she confessed the truth to him, he might not want anything to do with her. And, foolishly perhaps, deciding to wait just a little longer before she had to watch the light in his eyes fade.
It wasn’t smart. Shelby knew that. It might even be dangerous. She knew that, too. But one kiss in the garden had turned into a dozen and wiped away all reason. She clutched his hand while he led her through the foyer, and followed him quickly up the stairs.
When Meg poked her head out of a doorway, Zacharias motioned for her not to worry. “Mrs. Logan and I need some time alone, Meg. See that we’re not disturbed.”
Meg’s bright smile left no doubt that she suspected the reason for the “visit” but Shelby didn’t even care about that. She only knew that she wanted Zacharias as she’d never wanted any man before.
Once they reached her bedroom, Zacharias kicked the door shut and pulled her to him. She went to him eagerly, melting against him and lifting her mouth with an impatience he matched.
He groaned softly when their lips met and tightened his arms around her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything at the same time she was overwhelmed with sensation. Her breasts tingled and her skin felt as if someone had ignited a fire beneath her.
Zacharias ran his hands along her back to her bottom and cupped it gently. But there he stopped and pulled away to look at her. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to rush you.”
Shelby nodded and ran her fingers along his shoulders, delighting in the shiver her touch tore from him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she whispered.
“Good.” A fire burned in his eyes and his hands started moving again. “From now on, let’s have nothing between us. No secrets, no lies, no half-truths.”
Shelby closed her eyes and willed the nagging voice to go away. She didn’t want to destroy this moment. But she’d destroy everything if she promised truth now and lied again.
SEVENTEEN
Near tears, Shelby opened her eyes again just as he bent his mouth to hers once more. “Before we do this, there’s one thing I need to tell you.”
“Later.”
It had been a long time since any man had looked at her with such hunger, and every instinct shouted for her to agree. If she made love to him now, at least she’d have the memory to cherish if she had to spend the rest of her life without him.
But she didn’t want to remember him making love to Agatha. She had to know he was making love to her.
She gave herself a mental shake and followed it with a quick shake of her head. “No,” she whispered. “I have to tell you now. Then if you still want me—”
He tilted his head to study her. “If I still want you? This must be some news. I can’t imagine anything that would change my mind right now.”
Shelby clenched her hands tightly and forced herself to put some distance between them. “This might sound crazy. In fact, I’m sure it sounds crazy.” She turned to face him again and took a fortifying breath, then blurted it out before she could change her mind. “I’m not Agatha.”
“You’re—” Zacharias stared at her for a second, then threw back his head and laughed. “All right. If it suits you to pretend we’re strangers, I suppose I don’t mind.”
“I’m serious, Zacharias. This isn’t some kind of kinky sex game. I’m not Agatha. I just happen to be stuck inside her body.”
“I’d very much like to join you,” he said, grinning wickedly.
“Will you be serious for a minute?” Shelby caught him with both hands just before he pulled her back into his embrace.
He scowled at her. “All right, then, you little minx. Who are you?”
“My name is Shelby Miller, and I’m from the future. Somehow—don’t ask me how because I can’t explain it—I was transported through time and dropped into Agatha’s body.”
One eyebrow quirked. “Through time.”
“Yes. I was working as caretaker at Winterhill and when I found out the owner in my time was planning to tear down the twin houses, I came to Summervale and started looking for Agatha’s journals. Something happened with the heat and the mirror and the next thing I knew, I was here.”
Zacharias sent her a skeptical look. “From the future.”
“Yes.” Shelby ran her fingers through her hair and let out a sigh of relief. Not because he believed her but because she’d actually managed to tell him. Even that took a weight off her shoulders. “In real life, I’m five-foot seven and I have shoulder-length curly blonde hair.”
“Is that right?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And what has become of Agatha?”
“I don’t know for certain, but I’d guess she’s probably living my life. I’ve seen her a couple of times in the mirror, and I keep expecting to change places again, but so far I’m still here.”
Zacharias rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And when did this miracle take place?”
“The day I told you that I’d lost my memory.”
“Ah-h-h.” He nodded as if everything made perfect sense. “And why didn’t you tell me about this at the time?”
“Because you weren’t exactly on speaking terms with Agatha.” Shelby sent him a sheepish smile. “And because I figured I’d been brought here to fix your relationship with her.”
Zacharias rubbed his chin again, adjusted the waist of his trousers, ran his hand along the back of his neck. “And so you have,” he said after a long pause.
“Maybe. I’m not so certain anymore. Everyone in my time believes Agatha was crazy, and that she deserted you and her children to live here as a recluse. Nobody knows the truth.”
“Indeed? Well, that’s good. I never have wanted my children’s unsavory past revealed.”
“I know. And now that I understand everything that happened, I’m not so sure why I’m here. All I know is that somewhere in the process of trying
to get you and Agatha back together, I fell in love with you, myself.”
His eyes softened slightly. “And I with you. But if, as you say, you’re not Agatha—”
“I’m not. I only wish I could prove it to you.”
“No more than I wish it,” he muttered almost too low for Shelby to hear.
“Do you hate me for not telling you sooner?”
He worked up a smile and met her gaze again. “Hate you? No, Ag— What was your name again?”
“Shelby.”
He nodded again, slowly. “I don’t hate you . . . Shelby. But I think perhaps this isn’t the best time to . . . to . . .” He waved a hand toward the bed.
She hadn’t expected any other reaction, but that didn’t stop her the pain of rejection. She had no right to ask him to believe her or even to trust her, but that didn’t take away the searing pain in her heart. She had to give him time to adjust to the bombshell she’d just dropped, but that didn’t give her hope.
“No,” she whispered around the lump in her throat. “No, it isn’t. I understand.” And she did—logically.
But her heart didn’t understand anything at all and her soul felt as if someone has rent it in two.
Her tears nearly did him in, but Zacharias contrived to remain strong. And he struggled not to show how much the news had devastated him. He’d almost convinced himself that she wasn’t crazy—in spite of his mother’s dour warnings, in spite of Agatha’s odd behavior, in spite of everything.
Until now.
Now, he had to admit that she’d lost her mind. And this was far worse than anything else she’d ever done. A traveler through time? Some blonde woman named Shelby Miller from the future? His heart ached just thinking about how confused Agatha’s poor mind had become.
He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. Knowing that she’d lost her mind did nothing to change the love he felt for her. But it hurt. Oh, Lord, it hurt. He’d had such dreams of their future together. He’d counted on putting their family together the way it always should have been. Now, it seemed, his mother was right.