wondered.
Ascott closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Lilly
tossed a quick look at Caleb, pointed down her throat and
pretended to gag, then turned quickly away before Michael
saw her.
Caleb swept his hand over his face and covered his mouth
to stifle his laugh. That only made matters worse when the
sound came out a sputter. He faked a cough.
He barely managed not to burst out with another laugh
when he realized that Lilly’s face had turned crimson. She
picked up a towel from the counter and sent Caleb a warning
glare as she slowly dried her hands.
“You know they’re apple,” Lilly chided. “Apple is Becci’s
favorite. Now, I asked you a question. What are you doing
here?”
Caleb glanced from Ascott to Lilly. She twisted on the water
and started cleaning the sink she’d already cleaned before
Ascott arrived. Her movements were clipped, and her shoulders
were drawn in a tight angry bow. At least Lilly and he shared
the same feelings for this man, even if Becci didn’t.
Ascott pulled out a long, dark cigar and ran it under his
nose. “Tonight is Ascomp’s charity dinner. Becci and I won’t
be eating here.”
“Tonight?” Lilly whirled around. Her gaze landed on the
cigar. “You know better than to light up in this house, Michael.”
Ascott’s lips slid into a challenging sneer as he put the
cigar between his lips and pulled out a box of matches.
Caleb rose slowly, and Ascott glanced in his direction. Their
gazes locked.
Just do it, mister, Caleb thought. Just do it. If Ascott lit the
small cigar it would give him an excuse to put his fist in the
man’s face.
“I believe you were asked not to smoke in here, sir. You
may either take the cigar outside or put it away,” Caleb said.
“The choice is yours.”
Ascott hesitated for a moment before taking the cigar out
of his mouth and slipping it into the inner pocket of his jacket.
Caleb eased back into the chair. It was only a minor victory,
and one he would probably regret later. But the battle had
definitely begun.
“To answer your question, Lilly, yeah, the benefit dinner
is tonight. And since Becci wouldn’t want to miss out on the
pie, we’ll just take one of them with us.” Ascott pinched off a
piece of the crust and popped it in his mouth. “Becci and I can
share it at my place later.”
Caleb flinched inwardly as the remark found its target.
Hopefully he’d managed to keep his expression free of emotion.
One look at Lilly, and he knew she’d sensed his reaction.
Thankfully, it appeared that Ascott hadn’t.
“No, you can’t take a pie.” Lilly said. “The extra one is for
Caleb.”
She nodded in Caleb’s direction, and then quickly turned
back to her cleaning.
Caleb’s gaze again collided with Ascott’s angry glare. With
a hint of triumph, Caleb smiled. He wasn’t sure Lilly really
had made one of the pies for him, but he’d certainly let the
man think she had.
“Since when did you start making pies for the hired help?
And what is he doing answering the door?” Ascott snapped.
“He’s not the hired help. He’s a friend,” Lilly said.
“Friend? Yeah, sure. And how long have you known this
friend?”
The back door opened, and Becci rushed in, saving Lilly
from having to answer. Caleb stood politely, but Becci stared
at Michael and smiled.
A sharp tightness gathered in Caleb’s chest as he watched
the exchange. Would she ever look at him and smile? He
doubted it. He closed his book and traced the binding with his
index finger.
No one had to tell him he didn’t belong here. The silence
in the room let him know who was the outsider.
Becci tossed the paper bag on the table and took a tentative
step in Ascott’s direction.
“What are you doing here?”
Ascott crossed the room, hooked his arm around her waist,
and pressed his lips to hers in a possessive kiss. Caleb clenched
his jaw to stop the curse that almost erupted.
He had no right to feel jealousy for this woman. No right
to take offense at the way they held each other. After all, he’d
only known Becci three days.
But he did feel jealous.
Ascott glanced in Caleb’s direction. His cold, dark eyes
said Becci belonged to him. Back off.
He’d held her closer this morning, Caleb recalled. He’d
kissed her with more passion, and she’d responded. A smile
tugged at his lips then died as Becci slipped her arm around
Ascott.
Caleb stifled a groan. It hurt to see her in the other man’s
arms. He’d never had Becci, and never would, yet the thought
of losing her hurt almost as much as losing Luke.
Ascott’s smirk changed to a smile as he faced Becci. “Did
you forget about the company’s charity dinner? I called to
remind you, but your shift supervisor said you’d taken a
personal holiday. You aren’t sick, are you?”
Becci rose on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on Ascott’s
cheek. “No, I’m not sick. And, yes, I did forget about the dinner.
It won’t take me ten minutes to change.”
She heard Caleb’s muffled curse and glanced around in
time to see him grab a book from the table and his hat off the
hook by the door. Their eyes met for a brief instant before he
put on his hat. In that moment she saw a flicker of an emotion
she didn’t want to acknowledge.
The door slammed behind him, shaking the windows, and
Becci’s heart lurched in her chest. Why had she kissed Michael
in front of Caleb? Because childish as it was, she’d wanted to
make Caleb jealous, but all she’d done was make him angry.
“Have a piece of pie while I’m dressing,” Becci said to
Michael, ignoring Lilly’s scowl as she rushed from the kitchen.
If the dinner hadn’t been a benefit for Ascomp she would
have begged off, especially after seeing the hurt in Caleb’s
eyes. A hurt she felt, too. She hadn’t realized how much she’d
wanted to share the meal with Caleb until it had become
impossible.
***
Caleb dropped to the shed’s cot. Cupping his laced fingers
around one knee, he rested his head against the rough wall and
tried again to rationalize his feelings. The whole situation was
hopeless. He’d walked around the lake three times before he
got his jealousy under control.
He had to block out his memory of Becci and concentrate
on his immediate needs—finding something to eat. He’d seen
a pair of squirrels at the edge of the woods. They would make
a nice meal, but not a quick one.
He rolled to his feet, grabbed his hat and slapped it against
his leg. Sitting on the cot wouldn’t get him his supper. With
one last glance at the small shed, he scooped up his bible,
opened the door and halted in his tracks.
/> Startled to see Lilly standing in the front of him clutching
a large bowl and a brown bag to her chest, he stepped back.
“I thought you would like some stew. There’s a slice of pie
in the sack. Michael stole the one I made for you, only I didn’t
notice it was missing until after they’d left.”
Lilly handed him the food and took a step backward. “Becci
doesn’t love Michael. She’s grateful for the help he’s given us,
but it’s not love. The kiss didn’t mean anything.”
“Did she say that?”
“No,” Lilly admitted.
Caleb set the food on one of the boxes and pushed it closer
to the cot. “Sit down, Miss Lilly. We can talk while I eat.”
“Good. I need to know as much about you as possible.”
There was nothing underhanded about Lilly. If she wanted
information she didn’t hesitate to ask. Well, they would just
trade off. He wanted to know things about Becci. Things only
Lilly could answer.
“There’s a rocker behind the boxes. I’ll get it for you,”
Caleb said. If this session turned out to be like the ones he’d
had with Rebecca, they both needed to get comfortable.
Lilly placed a bowl and spoon on the box he’d chosen to
use as his table. While he uncovered the rocker, she opened the
container and dipped out a large helping of stew. He could
smell the rich aroma the moment she started filling the dish.
“Sit,” she ordered. “You’re a man with a man’s appetite,
and as far as I know you haven’t eaten much of anything since
you arrived. You have to be starving.”
Caleb motioned for her to make herself comfortable. She
tested the rocker for stability and eased down into the woven
seat.
Once she was settled, Caleb took his place and picked up
the steaming bowl. When he lifted the dish to his face to breathe
in the tantalizing aroma, his stomach rumbled, confirming her
statement.
When he finished, Lilly dipped him another serving.
“I want to thank you for the stew,” he told her. “It’s
delicious. Now, I know you have several questions you want
to ask. I’m ready when you are.”
“Is Caleb Harrison your real name?” Lilly asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What year were you born?”
Caleb set the empty bowl on the box, leaned against the
wall and brushed his hand over the Bible beside him. “1802, I
think. I was six when I entered the orphanage. According to
Sister Teresa, Ma died in March of 1808.”
Lilly raised one arched eyebrow and kept her gaze steady
as she said, “The journals say Caleb Harrison murdered Becci’s
namesake. Are you that Caleb Harrison? If so, did you kill
her?”
“I am Caleb Harrison, and I am from that era. However, I
didn’t kill Rebecca. She named me as Luke’s godfather. The
last time I saw her, she told me that she and Luke would be in
the parlor, and I was to join them when I finished carting the
dresser I’d made for her upstairs. That was June 18, 18 6.”
“But you arrived here three days ago—May twenty-seventh,
not June. Are you sure about the date?”
“Yes, ma’am. Saturday, June 18, 18 6.”
“The day Rebecca died.”
“I didn’t kill her,” Caleb repeated, his voice barely a
whisper. He kept his gaze locked on Lilly.
Lilly rocked forward and rested her hand on his arm. “I
believe you.” She cleared her throat and continued. “I know
you want to get back to your time, but there is a chance you’ll
be stuck here. And my Rebecca needs you, whether she knows
it or not.
“But you might have a few problems with the police if we
don’t get you a Social Security Number and a birth certificate.
If you’ll give me your vital information, I’ll try to get them for
you. Your being an orphan might help. You can’t do much of
anything without proof of your birth.”
Caleb nodded. “If that’s all you want to know about me, I
have a couple of questions.”
“Fair enough, but in exchange, I would like to know what
you remember about the day you came here.”
“As you said, fair enough. Now, this nursery Becci wants,
why is it so important to her?”
“Last month a mother was arrested for stealing milk for
her newborn baby. Her excuse was that she couldn’t work
because she didn’t know anyone she trusted enough to care for
her baby, and none of daycare facilities would take a child
under six months old.”
Lilly snapped the lid back on the plastic container she’d
brought the stew in and set it back on the makeshift table.
“Becci’s heart went out to the woman. She would really like to
open a nursery for the underprivileged, but, as you know, her
finances won’t even allow her to open one for profit. Once the
nursery is established, she might be able to accept a few charity
cases.”
“Is Becci from...I mean, the clothes she wears
are...skimpy.” Caleb’s cheeks burned. How could he ask Lilly
if her niece sold herself? And if, perhaps, she wasn’t allowed
to open the nursery because of her social standing?
“Today’s women wear fewer clothes than they did in your
day,” Lilly said. “Although I agree that they’re too darned
skimpy.”
“She doesn’t work at…Of course not.” Caleb cleared his
throat and decided to change the subject. “You wanted to know
about the day Rebecca died. I didn’t kill her, but I’m pretty
sure I know who did.” He told Lilly everything he remembered
about that day. Even that Jacobs had come up the stairs carrying
the blood-covered knife. The same knife the journals claimed
he’d used to kill Rebecca.
“I have to find Jacobs and go back,” he finally finished.
“Caleb, you can’t go back to Raleigh. They’ll hang you
for Rebecca’s murder.”
“If I go back, I might be able to save her. I have to try.”
“I understand,” she whispered. “Just let me…us...know
before you leave.”
“I will,” he promised. “Now, will you teach me about the
world today?”
“I was wondering when you’d ask.”
***
The man at the door checked their names off a list, then
said, “Mr. Ascott, according to our list we never received your
check for the benefit. The notation beside your name says you
are to pay at the door.”
Michael patted his pockets. “I can’t believe this. I’ve left
my wallet home. Becci, can you give the man a check? I’ll pay
you back tomorrow.”
“I can’t,” Becci whispered.
“Becci, don’t embarrass me. You know I’m good for it.
Give the man a check.”
She had a bad feeling about this, but her utility bill wasn’t
due for another week, and Michael said he would pay her back
tomorrow . She had to trust him. She was going to marry him,
after all. After writing out the check, she ripped it off and
/> stuffed her checkbook back into her purse. Michael escorted
her to the table and ordered wine for both of them.
Becci sipped the wine and tried to stifle her complaint.
She didn’t like the club, but at least more of the money would
go to the charity than if they’d gone to a snazzy restaurant. A
lot of fifty-dollar-a-plate benefits were held at various places
around town. Not many were held in nightclubs.
“Who picked this place?” Becci asked.
“It was a committee decision,” Michael supplied.
“I can’t believe they chose a country and western bar,”
Becci grumbled. On all sides, people wore jeans and hats. It
wouldn’t take much imagination to visualize the whole group
horseback riding across an open range.
She felt ridiculous in her outdated long satin dress and the
dangling crystal earrings that hung nearly to her shoulders.
The dress and accessories had been her mother’s, and she’d
thought the outfit appropriate for the benefit dinner. Out of all
the members present, only four of the women wore evening
attire, and hers was the only full-length dress in the whole room.
Most of them wore cowboy boots and jeans. Michael hadn’t
specified what to wear, but she hadn’t asked, so the blame
wasn’t entirely his. But he could have spoken up when she
came downstairs instead of telling her she looked nice.
Although Michael wore a three-piece suit, he didn’t look
out of place, probably because he hardly ever wore anything
else. And he was wearing cowboy boots, damn him.
“Don’t complain too loud, Becci,” Michael chided. “The
organization gets more money this way, and the club did reserve
an area just for our group. Besides, there won’t be any boring
speeches to listen to and no elaborate pleas for additional
funds.”
“I understand all that, but I’d hoped to mingle and discuss
my plans for the nursery with a few of the members.” Especially
since she’d had to use the money she’d set aside for the utility
bill to pay for the tickets because Michael had conveniently
left his wallet at home.
With the music blaring she had to strain to hear what the
person next to her said. She shook her head and blew out an
exasperated breath. She’d thought Michael said the Ascomp
executives were a very tight-knit group. She must have
Christopher, Barbara - Keeper of Key.txt Page 15