Christopher, Barbara - Keeper of Key.txt

by Keeper of Key. txt (lit)

  for someone not to know what a gas station is.”

  “That’s why I need someone to teach me. Will you do it?”

  “I’m sorry, Caleb, but no. I have so much to do right now.

  I have to plan the party for the Ascomp employees, and the

  house has to be ready for the inspector. I don’t have time to

  teach you.”

  She saw the flicker of disappointment skitter over his face

  before he slid the emotional shield back into place. She felt

  guilty, but she had to say no. Teaching Caleb would mean more

  contact with him. Part of her wanted to stay by his side and

  teach him everything he needed to know, while the other part

  wanted to run from the fiery attraction he spurred inside her.

  Caleb slowly rocked his chair back and forth before he

  replied. “Don’t worry, Becci. Miss Lilly has agreed to teach

  me. I had just hoped you would also help.”

  His flat response left her feeling like a coward. No, she

  wanted to shout, you don’t understand. But how could she

  explain without letting Caleb know about the attraction she

  felt toward him? She searched for a safe topic. They’d discussed

  her work, the house, and cars. What was left?

  “Michael asked me to get everything to look as realistic as

  possible for the party. I know it won’t be perfect because of

  the changes that have been made over the years, but I’ve got to

  do my best for Aunt Lilly. Selling the antiques will give us

  enough money to open the nursery. Do you have any suggestions

  to help make it seem realistic?”

  Caleb raked his hand through his hair and visualized the

  house as it had been in 18 6. She was right. Nothing would

  bring it back to its original state, but he had an idea.

  “If you want the party to take on the air of that time, you

  could dress for the occasion. I found some of Saul’s and

  Rebecca’s clothes in a cedar-lined chest in the shed. You’re

  about Rebecca’s size. You could wear one of her dresses,” Caleb

  suggested.

  “And you could wear something of Saul’s.”

  He went very still. “That sounds like an invitation. Do you

  really want me around all those people?”

  She heard the bitterness in his words. She met his gaze.

  “Yes. I do.”

  “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

  “You won’t embarrass me. You might even enjoy discussing

  the antiques with people in the group.”

  “Yeah. Since I made everything, I should be able to hold

  my own.”

  “I can see us now.” Excitement colored her voice, and Caleb

  felt a strange tightness in his chest. “Using the clothes to create

  the atmosphere of the eighteen hundreds is a fantastic idea.

  Everything is going to be perfect. Oh, Caleb, thank you! I can’t

  wait for the party.”

  Without thinking Becci leaped forward to hug Caleb and

  sent them both toppling backwards. She ended up on top of

  him with her arms wrapped around his neck.

  Becci laughed. He tapped one of the long crystal earrings

  and smiled up at her. His gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips.

  She couldn’t resist the temptation to press her mouth to his.

  She lowered her head and, with a gentle sweep of her tongue,

  probed lightly until he parted his lips. He groaned and met her

  kiss with a reluctant, feathery touch that sent a ripple of passion

  washing over her.

  A blaze of heat followed the trail of Caleb’s hands as he

  brushed them over her hips. Even through the layer of silk and

  satin, his touch created more feelings than she had ever

  experienced. He pressed her closer, and there was no mistaking

  the extent of his desire for her.

  In one swift twist, he changed their positions, and his kiss

  turned hungry. She couldn’t stop him—had no desire to stop

  him. She’d wanted this almost from the moment she’d seen

  him slump to the floor by the dresser.

  With a sharp curse, he pulled his mouth away from hers

  and buried his face in the curve of her shoulder. “We can’t do

  this, Becci. Ascott could raise a gun to me, and no one would

  care.”

  Becci brushed a lock of hair from her face. She was still

  quivering inside, and she’d never reacted to Michael like this.

  She should feel mortified by her actions, but she wasn’t. She

  hadn’t had the courage to break her engagement to Michael

  tonight, but now she knew she had to. “You’re right. We can’t

  do this. It isn’t fair to Michael, but the law has changed. If

  Michael shot you for kissing me, he would go to jail for murder.”

  Caleb rolled away, and she sat up. Leaning against the wall,

  she studied his prone figure. His chest arched with each deep

  breath. One arm covered his eyes, and the other rested limply

  over his stomach.

  She sympathized with his struggle to regain his shattered

  control. At least he’d had the power to suppress the fire she’d

  unwittingly created.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He dropped his arm and turned his gaze to her. “I’m not.

  I’ve wanted to see if what happened the first time we kissed

  would happen again. I guess I found out.”

  Caleb kept his eyes on her as he pushed to his feet and

  extended his hand. She cupped her fingers in his and let him

  pull her to her feet. He released her hand and instinctively locked

  his arms around her in a loose embrace. He knew he should

  walk away from her, but he couldn’t seem to do so.

  Becci rested her hands on his chest, slowly slid her hands

  up his shoulders to his neck and curled her fingers into the hair

  at his nape. Her green eyes revealed a desire that matched his

  own, but he knew she would never forgive him if he succumbed

  to the temptation.

  “It’s late,” he finally said.

  His eyes, full of uncensored desire, burned into Becci. She

  tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her blood thrummed

  through her veins and heated her cheeks. The tremor of their

  kiss still vibrated through her. What would he do if she kissed

  him again?

  She knew the answer. If she tempted him again, he wouldn’t

  want to stop, and neither would she. This handsome, sexy

  stranger, who claimed to be from the past, created a rush of

  excitement in her. But she couldn’t give in to her lust. Even if

  he stayed in this time, Caleb had nothing to offer her.

  Nothing. And she’d spent her life with nothing. She’d

  promised herself that she wouldn’t live like that any longer.

  She let her hands drop to her sides. “We can discuss the

  party tomorrow.”

  Caleb nodded.

  “I won’t...this won’t happen again.”

  Caleb nodded again. “I understand. I may be unfamiliar

  with what’s proper in society today, but I am an honorable

  man. If I can’t control my feelings for you, I’ll pack up and

  leave.”

  “Were you running away from what you believed to be an

  impossible situation when you passed through time?”

  He turned away, and sh
e followed his gaze to their blurred

  image in the bowed window. “No. I gave my word to protect

  Luke and Rebecca. I planned to ask Rebecca to marry me. It

  would have been improper, but it was the only way to keep my

  promise to Saul.”

  Becci watched him struggle for the right words, wondering

  what promise he’d made to Saul, but she was afraid if she

  asked he’d stop talking, and she wanted—needed—to know

  what he had to say.

  “You’re a lot like Rebecca,” he continued. “She didn’t care

  what people thought. She went with what she felt, proper or

  not. She is—was—a fine woman and a true friend.”

  “You loved her.”

  “No.” Caleb shook his head as he spoke. “We were just

  friends. She was Luke’s mother, and Luke was my godson.”

  He glanced up, and Becci almost gasped at the raw need

  still burning in his eyes.

  “I cared for Rebecca, but I never touched her as a husband

  would touch a wife. I have more feelings for you than I ever

  felt for her or for Elizabeth. I think it has something to do with

  what’s here,” he said, tapping his chest lightly. “Contrary to

  my reputation, the nuns taught me to be a gentleman. That is

  why I will not give in to the temptation. You are another man’s

  woman. As I’ll not be here for an extended period, it would not

  be proper for me to try to steal your affections.”

  Caleb retrieved his hat, put it on and adjusted it, deciding

  he’d better leave before he made everything he’d just said a

  lie. “If you’ll leave a list of chores with Miss Lilly, I’ll make

  sure they’re finished early so we can plan this party of yours.

  I’ll even try to decipher the journals and look for the gold. As

  I said before, I only need the orichalc. The rest is yours.”

  Caleb stared at Becci. The flame of desire still blazed in

  her eyes. He imagined the silky feel of her hair draped over his

  chest—of her draped over his chest. He’d never had a woman

  romping through his thoughts like Becci did, and he knew

  instinctively that no other woman ever would.

  With a quick tip of his hat he left before he made a bigger

  fool of himself than he already had.

  ***

  Caleb nearly gagged as he entered the shed. Jacobs’s odor

  announced his presence before Caleb spied him hiding under a

  ragged blanket in the corner.

  “What are you planning on stealing now, Jacobs?” Caleb

  tossed his hat at the foot of his bed and sat down to take off his

  boots. If Jacobs wanted to share his room, he would have to

  clean up. He’d tried to air the room once, but the odor had

  plagued him continuously since he’d seen the man sneak inside.

  The clothes the drunk wore were the same ones he’d had

  on when they were thrust through time. The chunks of black

  mud that clung to his boots and pants indicated that he’d

  probably been hiding in the woods or down by the lake.

  “Whiskey, if they got it,” Jacobs’s drink-slurred words

  preceded him out of the corner. “I’m almost finished with what

  I got the other day. I need food, too. Some of that sweet smellin’

  stew might be nice. I watched you and that Miz Lilly having

  that little chat of yore’s. You didn’t even think about yore friend

  here, did you?” Jacobs placed his palm to his own chest.

  “If you’d care to work for Miss Becci, I’m sure she would

  feed you.”

  “I don’t reckon that’s necessary. Not when I can jist walk

  in and take what I want. Besides, once I get the neckpiece the

  Widow Berclair gave you, I’ll be set for life, and you’ll be the

  one they hang for murder.”

  A vision of the blood-drenched knife flashed into his mind.

  Luke’s wail would have covered Rebecca’s cry for help. Caleb

  seized the edge of the cot in a white-knuckled grip and fought

  to keep his anger under control. He’d failed Saul. He’d failed

  to protect Rebecca and Luke.

  “You killed her,” Caleb whispered. “You killed Rebecca.”

  “No. You did. It were yore knife that was used. No one’s

  gonna blame me. It were common knowledge that you kilt

  before. Course I won’t say nothin’ if’n you’ll just fetch me that

  there gold piece yore so fond of and that sack of nuggets and

  gold coins you had when we headed to the manor. I’ll head on

  down river soon as I get it. One town’s good as ‘nother.”

  “I don’t have the gold.”

  “Liar. Only a fool would lose a sack of money. And you’re

  a lot of things, but you ain’t no fool. Where is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Caleb repeated. “By now, I’m sure

  Rebecca’s family has spent most of it. After all, that was a

  hundred and sixty years ago. Or haven’t you found that out

  yet?”

  “Yore lyin’ again! I ain’t no fool, Caleb Harrison. I don’t

  know what you done to make things seem different, but it ain’t

  been a hunnert and sixty years. You get that gold for me, or I’ll

  take that young filly you got yore sights on. Then maybe you’ll

  listen.”

  Caleb leaped off the cot, caught Jacobs by the collar and

  shoved him into the wall. The bottle Jacobs held by the neck

  bounced against the boards at his back.

  “You stay away from Becci.”

  “Then you best git me more whiskey, boy. This bottle is

  almost empty.” He lifted the bottle to show Caleb. “Or maybe

  you kin git me some of that gold so I kin git my own bottle.”

  Caleb remained silent for a moment, then shoved Jacobs

  toward the door. “I can’t take anything out of the house until

  Saturday. Even then I’m not sure I’ll be able to find the gold.”

  “I can’t wait ‘til then for a drink, and I need me some food.”

  Caleb reached under the cot and pulled out the small sack

  of biscuits Lilly had brought him earlier.

  “This will have to do for now.” He tossed them to Jacobs.

  “I’ll talk to Lilly. Getting food shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Fine. Tomorrow morning I’ll be expectin’ you to be

  leaving me vittles in here. I know yore feelings towards the

  spirits, so if’n you wants me to, I’ll handle gettin’ that myself.”

  Jacobs tipped the whiskey bottle up for a long draw, then

  wiped his mouth on his dirty shirtsleeve. “If the gold ain’t here

  Saturday, I might just take a notion to find it myself. I know all

  about them there hidden spots in yore furniture. Ain’t no place

  in that furniture that an ax can’t find. Especially one as sharp

  as the one you jist honed.”

  “You stay away from the house, Jacobs,” Caleb warned.

  “You stole all the liquor they had.”

  “If you want me to stay out, you’ll get me the gold and

  some more whiskey. I wouldn’t dally if I were you, either. I’m

  a mighty thirsty man, and I get right ugly when I don’t have my

  drink.”

  Caleb let out a sharp curse as Jacobs slipped out the door.

  He shoved open the window and gazed at the dark shadows of

  the trees. He hoped the
cool breeze would help clear his head

  and take the stench out of the shed.

  He slammed his fist against the windowsill and whirled

  toward the cot. He had a lot of emotional and moral sorting to

  do. Mostly about Becci, the house and the gold. Jacobs, too.

  He wanted to kill the man, but he knew he couldn’t do it. He

  had to take him back with him, and if the drunk had truly killed

  Rebecca, Caleb would make sure the man hanged for it.

  But before he could do any of that, he had to get back to

  his time. He could drag Jacobs upstairs while Becci was out,

  get the medallion out of the dresser and leave, but that would

  be stealing. Even if the gold and the medallion had been his,

  the house and everything in it now belonged to Becci.

  He couldn’t take the medallion without lowering himself

  to the likes of Jacobs, and he’d be damned if he would do that.

  Right now he had to protect Becci and Lilly, and his instincts

  told him that Jacobs wasn’t the biggest threat they faced.

  Something nefarious was going on here, and he couldn’t leave

  until he found out what it was and made sure Becci and Lilly

  were safe.

  Caleb tucked his knife in his belt, grabbed his hat off the

  cot and went back to the house. As long as Jacobs needed

  whiskey, Becci and Lilly wouldn’t be safe from the drunk. He’d

  have to get spirits for Jacobs, and he’d have to get them fast.

  Eleven

  Caleb rubbed his hand over his face and tried to cast aside

  the images assailing him. The full moon sketched a path across

  the yard, creating moving puddles of light as a gentle breeze

  fluttered the trees. Sleep wasn’t claiming him, and morning

  was taking its time coming.

  Every time he had closed his eyes the memory of Becci’s

  body pressed to his took over his thoughts and sent an ache

  through him that only she could sate. He rolled to his back,

  moved his knife so it wouldn’t jab him in the side, and stared

  at the stars.

  Becci was engaged to Ascott, so she must love him, but

  her actions confused Caleb. He’d slipped into her life and turned

  it upside down. She should hate him, probably did. But her

  response to his kiss said she had other feelings, too.

  One more time he closed his eyes. Instantly the memory of

  her kiss, her taste, her scent, and her soft skin assaulted him.