****
Hours later, Jack awoke from a sound sleep. His dreams had been occupied with Amanda. All through supper, he’d sat studying her face. The black and white photo he’d seen in present time in no way did her justice. She looked like a delicate china doll but was full of spirit. The idea of Randolph—even though he barely knew the man—kissing or even touching her, set his teeth on edge.
The problem was, he didn’t belong here and had to find a way back to his own time. But if he could, how could he take Amanda with him? And if he couldn’t, how could he leave her?
Now, he understood why her stepmother chose to return to this backward time.
Jack dressed, brushed his unruly hair, and ran a hand over his growing beard. He’d entertained the idea of shaving, until Erin brought him a mug with shaving cream and a straight edged razor. The real fear of accidentally slicing his jugular, kept him from giving it a try, even though Erin offered to help.
The idea of Amanda’s stepmother assisting him with such an intimate act didn’t hold much appeal. He told her he’d wait a few more days to decide.
And maybe, while in this century, he should allow his beard to grow in order to blend in. The men he’d seen since arriving here, all had some type of facial hair, be it a full beard, a mustache, or a combination. Quite possibly, he’d be more attractive to Amanda with hair on his face.
After a quick glance in the mirror, he left his room and descended the stairs. The parlor door stood open and movement inside sent him to the doorway to investigate.
Amanda stood by the window pulling open the heavy drapes in the small room. She turned, her lips parting in a wide smile when she caught sight of him standing in the doorway.
“Jack!” Her hand rose to her lips. “You look so…”
When she hesitated, he frowned. “So what?” He brushed a hand over his hair, expecting a strand to be sticking straight up. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing at all.” She spread her arms. “It’s just you look so…so…dashing.”
He grinned. “And you look absolutely beautiful this morning.”
She giggled and sank into a mock curtsey, spreading out the folds of her voluminous gown. “Why, thank you very much, sir.”
He lifted his arm. “Shall we go in to breakfast?”
“Well…” She stepped close and lowered her voice. “I was thinking about skipping breakfast and going to the house.” Her gaze met his. “Unless you’re hungry.”
He patted his stomach. “I kind of am, but if you think this is important…”
She turned toward one of the tables and lifted a folded napkin. “I sneaked a couple of rolls from the kitchen when Mrs. O’Leary was busy at the stove. These should do us for a bit.”
“Okay.” Jack nodded. “But won’t there be workers at the house this time of day?”
“I think we might be able to get there ahead of them and sneak inside.”
The aroma of fresh baked bread caused Jack’s mouth to water. Amanda slipped him a roll, and he took a bite. “Mmmm. Mrs. O’Leary’s a great cook.”
Amanda tucked her roll into a pocket of her skirt and lifted a black felt hat from the rack by the door. She pinned it in place and grasped Jack’s arm.
“C’mon, before anyone sees us and asks questions.”
Jack strolled with Amanda on his arm along tree-lined streets with rows of attached brick homes. In this part of town, most of these homes still stood in his own time. But with the newness of the buildings, the landscape appeared alien.
She led him about four blocks, past storefronts, obviously the business section. She pointed out a detached building on the corner, also brick, with a large glass front. “I work there, Jack. I’m a writer for the town paper.” She pointed to a sign in the corner of the window by the glass door.
In fancy lettering, it read: The Carver Weekly. As they drew near, Jack read smaller lettering proclaiming the name of the owner, Theodore Carver and the chief editor, Randolph Norwood.
“Norwood.” Jack grimaced. “You think he’s in there?”
Amanda pulled him aside. “I hope so.” She glanced up and down the block. “If he’s here, he won’t be at the house. And I don’t want to run into him right now. I don’t have to be at work for another hour.”
“Okay, then let’s get moving.”
She nodded and motioned farther down the block. “We have to go another two blocks before we arrive at the house.”
Jack squinted, trying to picture this section of town in his time. He’d driven here by car and wasn’t sure of his bearings yet. In the future, this section was a bit run down in places, but in a state of rejuvenation. He’d have loved to buy and renovate the house.
At the end of the block, Amanda pointed toward a lot with two homes under construction. She lifted her skirts and strode toward the street. A horse pulling a carriage cantered past.
Amanda turned toward Jack. “The second one’s where I found you that night.”
He bit his lip. Several homes occupied this block in his time. His brain had been in a fog when Amanda brought him to her home, so he wasn’t sure.
He grasped her arm. “Let’s go see.”
They crossed the narrow street, striding past the first house. Two workmen stood outside smoking small cigars. They eyed Jack and Amanda, then returned to their conversation.
“What if there are workmen at Randolph’s house?” Jack asked.
Amanda shrugged. “We take a look anyway, at least from the outside. Then come back later tonight.”
Jack nodded. He stopped before the house staring up the path that led to the porch and front door. A mound of dirt stood on each side of the flagstone path. Jack recalled Mrs. Grayson’s garden surrounded by a black wrought iron fence. A gate opened from the sidewalk into the path. This had to be the house.
She tightened her grip on his arm. “Jack, I don’t see any workmen about.”
“Me either.” He stepped away from the path toward the side of the house. She followed.
“Either they’re off today, or they haven’t gotten here yet,” he said.
Amanda’s gaze scanned the unpainted, wood exterior. “I don’t see anyone through the windows either. This is how it was when I found you. No one was here.”
“You’re sure Randolph won’t show up? I can bluff my way past workmen, but—”
“I’m sure, Jack. He’d be at the office this time of morning. He always is.”
Jack sucked on his inner cheeks, trying to decide. This house might be the only way for him to get home. He had to get inside.
He led Amanda back to the path. After scanning both ends of the street and noting no one paid them any attention, he led her onto the porch. The porch and door hadn’t yet been painted, but the doorknob was in place.
“Amanda, I’m sure this door will be locked, if the workers aren’t here yet.”
She shook her head, sending a tendril of curled hair bouncing against her cheek. “It wasn’t the morning I found you. Randolph wanted to take me to dinner, then show me the house. I declined but decided to get up early the next day and take a look by myself. The door was closed but not locked.”
“Okay.” Jack tilted his head and reached for the knob. The door opened inward.
Amanda flashed him a grin. “I told you.”
He glanced behind them. “Let’s get inside before anyone sees us and hope no one’s standing inside with a shotgun aimed in our direction.”
Amanda huffed a protest, but he noted her hand clamped around his upper arm as he led her in. After a quick scan, he gently closed the door, hoping they hadn’t walked into a trap.
The house looked as it had when Amanda had helped him out. He crept through the unfinished foyer, glancing into the room that would become the parlor. The empty room relaxed him a bit. But he had to be sure the house was deserted.
“I should check the kitchen before we head upstairs.” He turned toward Amanda. “You stay here. Give a yell if you se
e or hear anyone.”
She nodded. “Be careful.”
He crept toward the back of the house. The layout was familiar from the time he’d spent here with Mrs. Grayson. But everything was fresh and new, down to the heady scent of fresh cut wood. The big room stood empty. He stepped inside but took care not to let his boots echo on the bare wood floor.
Convinced no one lurked in any of the corners ready to dive out at him, Jack backtracked to the foyer just outside the parlor. Amanda stood at the base of the staircase, glancing upward.
Jack stepped to her side. “This is the spot where your picture was hanging.” He pointed to the wall at eye level above the bottom step.
“Here?” She frowned.
“The young woman in the photo looked remarkably like you and hung right there. I noticed it was still up after the house had been emptied out. For some reason, the new owner hadn’t taken the picture down.” Jack shook his head. “I swear, it looked exactly like you, right down to the hairstyle and clothing.”
Amanda bit her lip. “Maybe the photo is what sent you here. To me.”
Jack grinned. “Nice theory. But how am I supposed to get back?”
She shrugged, her gaze locked on his. “We’d better get upstairs before someone comes.”
“I’ll go first.” Jack crept up the stairs, glancing behind him every few steps to be sure Amanda followed. His heart thudded at the eerie quiet on the upper floor. No footsteps echoed on the uncarpeted surfaces. For sure, he and Amanda’s movements would have drawn attention from anyone inside the house.
Close to the top of the staircase, he climbed more swiftly, taking Amanda’s hand to draw her with him. He scanned the hall, then pulled her along to another room not yet fitted with a door. Sunlight shimmered through.
“This is the room.” He glanced at Amanda.
She nodded. “Yes. I found you here.”
He took a deep breath and stepped into the bright room, adorned only with tools and sawhorses. No sign of any workmen. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Amanda slipped from behind him, pointing to a spot on the floor, where a large beam lay. Jack stepped toward the spot, noting blood on the unfinished wood.
“You were right there.”
He took her hand. “It’s hard to remember. I did sneak into this house for a last look, but it was old, decrepit. When I came into this room, it was empty, like this, except the floorboards were rotted and loose in spots. I was afraid I’d fall through.”
“Then what happened?” Amanda breathed.
Her mouth gaped as she gazed around the room, her eyes bright, breath quick and shallow.
“You okay?” He searched her face.
“Oh, Jack, this is so exciting.” Her eyes widened. “This room might be a doorway to the future.”
“Or the past,” he agreed.
She gasped with delight and pulled him close, planting a kiss on his cheek. “What if we could stand right here in this spot, close our eyes, and transport to the future?”
“It would be nice.” Jack rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head. “But I don’t know if it would work without us being knocked unconscious.”
“Oh.” Amanda bit her lip. “What did my mother tell you about her travel back and forth?”
“She said she’d come back after losing consciousness in a car accident. Then went forward after being shot.”
Amanda sighed. “Doesn’t sound too promising.” She spun toward the window that looked over the rear yard. Trees and shrubs covered the landscape.
Jack remembered houses behind these when he visited with Mrs. Grayson. “I don’t know. As much as I want to go home, I really don’t want to get hit with another beam.” He held Amanda’s gaze. “Don’t think you want to either.”
Her scent and warmth so close beside him sent all thoughts of the future flying out the window. On impulse, he leaned toward her, his lips a breath away from hers.
Her eyelids flew upward, gaze focused on his mouth. She blew out a breathy sigh, her eyes closing.
He pressed his lips gently over hers, his tongue gliding out to pry her lips apart. She opened to him, lifting her arms to circle his neck.
He slid his hands around her back, pulling her close. His breath mingled with her sweetness as his senses spiraled. He wanted this woman badly. Images rose behind his closed eyelids of her photo, waking up to her face above him, the time he’d spent with her at her parents’ house.
She let out a small gasp, forcing him back to reality.
Footsteps thudded across the floor below them.
“Oh, shit!” Jack said.
Amanda backed away and glanced toward the doorway. “What should we do, Jack?”
He swallowed. “Stay quiet, for now. I’ll figure some way out.”
Amanda stood still, fists pressed against her mouth.
Jack sucked his lower lip, trying to figure a way out of this mess. He strained his ears for any sounds. Male voices drifted toward them from downstairs.
Holy shit! He’d have to take Amanda by the hand and try to make a run for it.
He shuffled toward the door, trying not to draw the men’s attention. Pausing in the doorway, he glanced toward the stairs. They’d have to time it right.
Amanda stood still, her eyes wide. He motioned her to his side but made a shushing sound, pointing to her feet.
She nodded and shuffled toward him, her arm reaching out.
He drew in a breath to calm himself, trying to imagine the worst that would happen. So a couple of disgruntled workmen cursed them out. They’d have no idea who the couple was and think they’d come inside to make out. He grinned at the idea.
“Come,” he whispered and reached for Amanda’s outstretched hand. She placed her hand in his, drawing in a strained breath.
He nodded toward the stairs. “Follow me down, but don’t stop for anything. Understand?”
Her eyes widened, but she nodded.
“Okay, one…two…”
“Three.” A rough male voice sounded from below.
Jack glanced toward the stairs where a heavily bearded, round face peered at them from the base of the steps. “And what do we have here, then?”
Chapter Ten
Jack glanced at Amanda. She pursed her lips.
“We—I mean, I…” Jack shrugged, hoping the man would think them lovers looking for a private place.
The man, dressed in work clothes, stomped to the top of the stairs and leered at Amanda. He slapped a large hammer against his beefy hand. “Reckon I’ll take her to the back room for a little lesson on breaking into buildings that don’t belong to you.”
Amanda fisted her hands, placing them on her hips. “You will not, sir. We were just leaving. C’mon, Jack.” She stepped toward the workman.
His eyes widened on his weather beaten face. “See here, girl.”
“I’m no girl.” She shoved past him on the narrow staircase, her feet shuffling down the steps. “Jack?” she called out without a backward glance.
Jack didn’t move, his gaze shifting from the workman to the hammer.
The man glanced down the stairs at Amanda’s hasty retreat and shrugged. “Best do as the lady says.”
Jack didn’t need a special invitation. He drew in his breath and squeezed past the workman, who didn’t give an inch, then raced down the stairs.
He caught up to Amanda at the front door. “You’ve got a lot of guts for a…”
“A girl?” she finished for him.
“No. A strong and beautiful woman.”
She grinned and pulled the door open. Two workmen stood outside, their mouths agape.
“Who the devil are you?” The tall, thin one asked.
“Nobody.” Jack grasped Amanda’s hand. “And we were just leaving.”
He led her down the street. Once out of sight of the house and workmen, Amanda doubled over in a fit of giggles.
“You think that was funny?” Jack asked. Although the look on the men’s faces was co
mical, disappointment washed over him at still not knowing how he’d ever get home.
“Oh, Jack.” Amanda took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry. I know how much going home means to you.” She lifted a gloved hand to his cheek. “I told you how much I want to go too.”
He sighed, catching her hand and lifting it away from his face. “I don’t think your parents would agree.”
She drew herself up to her full height, her eyes level with Jack’s mouth. “I’m an adult woman. What I do is my choice. My stepmother taught me to make my own decisions.”
“But if you came with me, they’d never see you again.”
She shook her head. “A lot of young women marry and move far away from their homes.”
“Yeah, but they can still write home. You won’t have that luxury.”
“Oh, Jack, we’ll figure something out, I swear.”
Although Jack hoped for a happy outcome for them both, he was sure it would never be a possibility given the circumstances.
****
Amanda’s lips still tingled from the kiss she’d shared with Jack. If Randolph had caught them, there’d be hell to pay. But she thrilled to imagine what more Jack could show her if they had more time by themselves.
As they rounded the corner leading to her home, Amanda glanced down the block and stiffened.
Jack stared at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Look.” She inclined her head. Randolph stood at her front door.
“What’s he doing here?” Jack’s muscles tensed beneath her fingers.
“He’s likely looking for me.”
“You supposed to be at work or something?” Jack’s scowl deepened as his gaze locked on Randolph.
Amanda inhaled deeply. “I should have been at the newspaper office over an hour ago. Time got away from me.”
“Well, there’s nothing to do but get this over with.” Jack rubbed the back of her hand as she curled her fingers around his arm. His touch calmed her nerves a bit. He led her toward her house.
Randolph turned in their direction. His eyes widened, then narrowed.
Thoroughly Modern Amanda Page 7