Christopher, Barbara - Keeper of Key.txt

by Keeper of Key. txt (lit)

  listen to another word,” Becci snapped, bounding angrily off

  the stump. She tossed the metal plate next to the fire, spun

  away and hurried up the hill. She’d heard all she wanted to

  hear about him being from another lifetime. The thought tied

  her in knots.

  One moment she believed him and the next logic took over.

  It was all a pack of lies. It had to be. If she believed him she

  was as crazy as he was. Demented. Deranged.

  “Miss Berclair, please,” Caleb called after her. She didn’t

  turn around, and he sighed heavily.

  He had no right to ask her to teach him about things that

  would be useless when he returned to Rebecca. And once he

  removed the medallion from the dresser and rounded up Jacobs,

  they would go back to Raleigh.

  They didn’t have a choice. He had to save Rebecca, and

  Luke needed him.

  Seven

  Becci glanced at her aunt as the back door cracked against

  the frame. She pounded her fists against her thigh, one for every

  number as she counted slowly to ten. Then she repeated the

  sequence. Her nerves were shot. Why had Caleb said please

  when he asked to learn about the present? She wanted to ignore

  the sincerity in his voice, but he’d looked so vulnerable when

  he’d asked for her help.

  “Becci, dear, you’re going to crack the windows with that

  temper of yours. What’s the matter now?” Lilly tugged her

  housecoat closer around her and retied the belt before turning

  on the stove to heat the milk for their nightly cup of chocolate.

  They both enjoyed this one and only extravagance they had

  left from better times. It gave them a chance to go over the

  day’s events and discuss their financial status.

  “Nothing. Everything.” Becci pressed her fingertips to her

  temples and closed her eyes. She knew it was childish, but she

  said, “That man is stealing my cat, and why did you hire

  someone who belongs in a straitjacket?”

  “I didn’t hire him. I thought you did. And Pepper’s a stray,

  so technically he’s not yours.”

  Becci dropped into one of the kitchen chairs and gently

  massaged the tight muscles at her nape. “Stop kidding around.

  You told me you’d take care of everything, and you did.” She

  glanced at Lilly and waited for her affirmation.

  “Everything?”

  Becci frowned at her aunt.

  Lilly shrugged as if she still didn’t know what Becci meant.

  “The workers. Caleb,” Becci said in exasperation.

  “Oh, my. If you didn’t hire him, and I didn’t hire him...Do

  you think Caleb Harrison might have really come from the

  past?”

  Becci tossed her braid over her shoulder and tipped her

  chair onto its back legs. Keeping one toe on the floor, she rocked

  back and forth. There had to be a logical answer. “Aunt Lilly,

  you told me you took care of the movers,” Becci said patiently.

  “If Caleb isn’t one of them, what happened to the ones you did

  hire?”

  Lilly stirred the special cocoa paste she’d made into the

  milk and switched off the burner. “Right after Caleb collapsed,

  the dispatcher called to apologize for his men not getting here.

  They had a wreck on the way over, but thankfully no one was

  injured. He wanted to reschedule. I told them you’d hired

  someone else.”

  “But I didn’t.” The chair came down with a loud bang, and

  Becci lifted her gaze to stare at her aunt. Could he really be the

  Caleb Harrison? She told herself he wasn’t, and that her aunt

  and he were pulling some kind of hoax, probably hoping it

  would stop her from selling the house. But even as she told

  herself that, she couldn’t help playing what if. “If he’s for real,

  does this mean the stories about the gold are real, too?”

  “It’s not gold, it’s….”

  “I know, orichalc. Do you think it’s still valuable? If it’s

  real, of course.”

  “Of course it’s real, Becci.”

  “Well, let’s suppose for a moment that it is real. You read

  all the journals. Isn’t there a hint about where it might be

  hidden?”

  Lilly pulled a tissue from the pocket of her housecoat, took

  off her glasses and began cleaning them thoughtfully. “Well, I

  only scanned the ones written by Eli. They were too technical

  for me. Obadiah’s, Saul’s and Rebecca’s were the best.

  Christina’s dealt mostly with the constant jealousy she had for

  Rebecca. Saul wrote about what to do for time-travelers. That’s

  where I learned about the remedy and the orichalc. The

  information on Caleb came from Rebecca’s journal. Of course

  the information about Rebecca’s death was in Obadiah’s and

  Christina’s books.”

  Lilly’s voice drifted into a thoughtful murmur as if she

  were speaking to herself. “Saul didn’t say anything about how

  people got from one era to the next. He should have. That’s an

  important fact, don’t you think? Maybe I just missed it. Oh,

  well, I guess it will be just as good if you find out instead of

  me.”

  Becci waited for her aunt to run down. Or come back to

  what they’d been discussing. She might not do either if she got

  wound up in a subject that excited her.

  Lilly glanced toward the bay window and shook her head.

  “Becci, dear, I don’t think Caleb would intentionally steal the

  kitten. He seems like such a nice man. Animals sense that sort

  of thing. The journals could be wrong, but if he is that Caleb

  Harrison, we’ll need to be very careful. Do you think he’ll

  harm Pepper?”

  Becci sighed. “I don’t think Pepper’s in danger. Nor are

  we. Caleb is no killer. I’d bet my life on it.”

  That was exactly what she’d done, she realized with a start.

  “I certainly hope you’re right,” Lilly said as she slipped

  on her glasses and took two mugs out of the cabinet. “We don’t

  want a murderer hanging around the manor.” She poured the

  cocoa into the mugs and set one on the table beside the journals.

  Wrapping her hands around the other, she leaned back against

  the counter. “I think I’ll drink my chocolate in my room and

  leave you to your reading.”

  Becci tapped the stack of books she’d left on the table

  when she’d seen the smoke. “If there’s anything about any

  precious metals in one of these books, I’ll find it.” She lifted

  the mug and, with a slight nod, raised it to her lips. “Thanks

  for the chocolate.”

  “You’re welcome, dear.”

  Becci stood up and gave her aunt a kiss on the cheek. Aunt

  Lilly might jump from subject to subject during a single

  conversation, and at times her thought processes could confuse

  even the most astute listener, but Becci loved her dearly. She’d

  always been there for her, especially after her parents’ deaths.

  For that she would be eternally grateful.

  Becci gathered up the journals and followed Lilly out of

  the kitchen. She still didn’t believe there was go
ld—or

  orichalc—in the house, but maybe reading the journals would

  get her mind off the feelings Caleb evoked in her. Feelings she

  shouldn’t be having toward a stranger. After all, she was

  engaged.

  Becci flipped on the light in the family room. After laying

  the books on the end table, she snuggled into one corner of the

  overstuffed couch. Once settled, she balanced the mug on her

  stomach and closed her eyes.

  Steam rose from the cup, bringing the sweet aroma of

  chocolate. Nothing erased Caleb’s sexy voice from her memory.

  It drifted to her in the misty steam from her cocoa along with

  the image of his sun-drenched frame leaning forward, his arms

  resting on his jean-clad thighs as he teased her cat. Even the

  thought of him made her heart race.

  With a sigh, Becci set the mug on the end table. She adjusted

  the light and picked up the first book. If Caleb was from the

  past, how had he gotten here? And why had he come? Maybe

  the answers would be somewhere among these stained,

  yellowed pages.

  Carefully, Becci ran her hand over the front cover and

  slowly flipped open the book.

  February 20, 18 5

  They buried Eli yesterday. As I knew would happen,

  Obadiah and my sister arrived too late to see him one last

  time. At least they came swiftly enough to see him laid to rest.

  They didn’t stay long. After lunch they hurried to Sanderlin’s

  Bluff to catch a barge heading for Memphis. They didn’t want

  to miss the steamer that would take them to St. Louis.

  Obadiah told Saul to sell the house. He wants no part in

  running Berclair Manor. He complained that he needed the

  money as soon as possible to pay off his debts. Obadiah claims

  that as the oldest son, it is all his.

  Saul will abide by his father’s wishes and divide the income

  equally. If Obadiah has his way, his fancy attorney will have

  us out on the streets within the year.

  Obadiah’s hatred for Saul is well known. Although Eli

  declared his love for both his sons, he chose Saul and I to

  bear the penalty of Obadiah’s greed. How do we rectify your

  crime, Obadiah? How? Oh, Eli, how could you do this to us?

  Saul said this was your way of showing that you trust our

  judgment. How I wish I’d never heard of the Atlantean coin. I

  do not blame you, Eli. You were a father to me. You accepted

  me as your own, and my heart feels the pain of losing you.

  The words blurred. Becci struggled to keep the memories

  at bay. Memories that reminded her that Aunt Lilly represented

  the bulk of her family. And since Michael didn’t want children,

  there would be no heir to the Berclair legacy, a legacy that

  covered more than one hundred and seventy years.

  Becci ruffled the corner of the book. The diamond solitaire

  on her finger caught the light and flashed colored fragments

  over the pages. The day Michael showed up at her door

  reminded Becci of the day Caleb arrived. She didn’t know why.

  Maybe because they were both strangers.

  Michael had come by looking for a friend, but he had the

  wrong address. Before he walked away, he gave her his business

  card and asked if he might call on her socially. They started

  dating, and within a month he’d become her financial advisor.

  His wizardry had given her hope for a brighter future, although

  she’d yet to see any improvement. Michael kept telling her

  that these things took time. Just like making a commitment.

  They’d only dated six months when he asked her to marry

  him. It had taken her a month to accept. Their relationship

  wasn’t one of passion. At least not the kind found in the romance

  novels she read. Passion like that didn’t really exist.

  What about Caleb? An inner voice taunted. You feel his

  passion, and you’ve never even kissed him.

  Becci dismissed the thought. Caleb had no place in her

  life. Michael did. Michael gave her hope, but not for Berclair

  Manor or her nursery. She wanted the happiness that had existed

  in the past to return to this house. Besides, Caleb was either

  nuts or from the past. Neither option bode well for a future.

  “Everything I’ve read is so filled with despair, Mary

  Rebecca. Yet, you never lost faith, did you? You had happiness

  in your life, even if it didn’t last. Were you the last to find true

  love?” Becci shut the journal and tossed it on top of the others.

  The books shifted, sending one flying off the table.

  Becci leaned down to pick it up. Her hand hovered over

  the dim, smeared ink date on the cover—May 18 5-June 18 6

  Curious, she picked up the book and opened it.

  May 10, 18 5,

  Even though my last journal still has space, I’m starting

  a new one. Saul and I saw someone today. His lips turned up

  in a shy smile when he met us. Saul and I knew we’d met a

  man that shared our kinship. He arrived this morning and

  attended our small prayer meeting at the General Store.

  Mr. Harrison stared at the medallion. When he greeted

  us, his first act was to examine the necklace. He could touch

  it. And his gaze didn’t contain the diffidence others had shown,

  but held a reverence the books say is due the amulet. Saul

  heard his thoughts. Yes, Caleb Harrison is indeed an Atlantean.

  With a trembling hand Becci skimmed the rest of the page.

  Rebecca closed with a small paragraph about the weather and

  signed it as she had the others with just her initials M.R.B.

  Becci turned the page.

  May 11, 18 5,

  I visited the General Store today and overheard several

  of the men discussing Caleb Harrison’s situation. He’s a

  carpenter in need of work and lodging. I must inform Saul.

  We can offer him both. He can help Saul get the nursery built

  before the baby comes.

  Becci read down the page. Below this section were several

  dates, each containing a brief description of the weather and

  comments on her pregnancy. All the passages ended with the

  simple phrase. “Nothing new on Mr. Harrison today.” Her

  descriptions of the weather were more flowery, and Becci

  sensed the anticipation her namesake must have felt about

  becoming a mother.

  May 17, 18 5,

  During the church services today, I caught Mr. Harrison

  staring. Each time he nodded and smiled the smile that is

  uniquely his. After the service, Brother Robert introduced Mr.

  Harrison to the gathering. He informed us that an order of

  wood suitable for making furniture should arrive on the next

  riverboat. Mr. Harrison is taking special requests for his work.

  Saul and Caleb are friends now, and he accepted our offer.

  Soon the baby’s nursery will be finished.

  May 21, 18 5,

  I met with Mr. Harrison today. Saul is sick and wanted me

  to ask Caleb if he might move into the lean-to down by the

  lake. As we spoke, I told him about the few trinkets missing

  from my cupboard. It seems I wasn’t the only one confiding to

  him. We’d never had a
problem before. Although he’s the only

  stranger in town, it can’t be him. The thefts started at least a

  fortnight prior to Caleb’s arrival. The rumors are surfacing

  anyway. People are suggesting that he has an accomplice. I

  don’t believe them. Caleb is a good man. He suggested each

  piece of furniture he makes should have a secret compartment.

  He assures me this will be easy to do. I must hide our valuables

  and the amulet from the thief. Although I don’t care about

  their value, they are my child’s future. I’m not one that believes

  in fate, but I know there is a reason for Caleb Harrison’s

  arrival. Saul believes he is the new keeper. If he is, he will

  soon learn that the medallion Saul wears belongs to him.

  Obadiah’s debt will be paid, and we can live our lives as they

  were meant to be. I pray for Saul’s rapid recovery. There is so

  little time left to raise the room.

  Becci smiled and laid the book on top of the stack. How

  had the stranger staying in her shed learned enough about Caleb

  Harrison to impersonate him? And it had to be an

  impersonation. It was impossible that he’d come from the past.

  To believe anything else was crazy.

  Maybe he’d read the books and was pulling a scam. But

  why? Was he casing the house, hoping to find the treasures

  Rebecca spoke about?

  Becci traced the smudged ink. “I’ll prove you’re lying,

  Caleb Harrison, if it takes a month,” Becci promised.

  Suddenly the journal she’d been reading fell off the stack

  and hit the floor, as if someone had slammed it down. Becci

  jerked her hand back, her eyes locked on the book.

  “What was that all about?” Lilly set her empty mug on the

  end table.

  “Huh?” What had caused the journal to fall to the floor?

  She hadn’t pushed it. She’d barely rested her fingers against

  the stained leather.

  Lilly picked up the book, laid it back on top of the stack,

  and reached for her cup. “Why did you throw it down?”

  “I didn’t. It...slid off the stack.”

  Becci tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and shook

  her head. She didn’t believe in ghosts or books that moved on

  their own. She just hadn’t realized she’d shoved it hard enough

  to push it off the stack.