The innocent air surrounding her didn’t correspond with either
the way she dressed or her forwardness.
Caleb groaned. He might as well give up on sleeping. He
rolled to his feet and leaned against the oak tree he’d lain under.
The sun’s orange glow had yet to paint the horizon. If he hurried
he could finish washing and be dressed in time to have a cup of
coffee before doing his morning chores.
Besides, maybe the icy water would help dissolve the
masculine needs that surged with every thought of Becci.
Grabbing the bucket, rag and soap Lilly had given him, he
headed toward the water spigot. The lights were off, and
everything looked peaceful inside. But the shed looked that
way, too, and he knew firsthand that those walls had been
anything but peaceful the last few days.
It would have been nice to clean up in the water room Miss
Lilly had shown him. It wasn’t necessary though, because he
had everything he needed outside. With the cover of darkness,
he could undress and bathe under the oak using the snakelike
tube Lilly had called a hose. She had used it to water the plants
yesterday, and now he would use it on himself.
Holding the hose in one hand, he twisted the handle above
where it was connected. Water suddenly erupted from the end
of the tube and jerked the hose out of his grip. It snaked
maniacally over the ground, spurting water everywhere. Caleb
dodged the erratic showers.
He chuckled and brushed the water off his shirt. Couldn’t
he even clean up without causing a mess? At least Becci wasn’t
around to see him make a fool of himself this time.
Catching the hose under his foot, he leaned down and
retrieved the wildly wiggling end. There had to be a way to use
the thing to his advantage. His damp hair trickled water into
his eyes as he studied the situation.
Suddenly he realized that by throwing the end over one of
the low hanging oak limbs he could create a shower. He tossed
the end over the branch and again dodged the erratic spurts of
water. At least it didn’t flop off.
He finished bathing quickly, filled the bucket, and turned
off the water. Jacobs would also clean up, Caleb vowed, as he
gathered up everything and headed toward the lake to find
Jacobs.
After searching for the drunk for over an hour, Caleb made
his way back up the hill. Golden squares of light spread across
the yard from the kitchen window. Lilly smiled at him through
the glass. She raised her cup as if offering it and motioned
with her hand for him to come in.
“Morning.” He placed his hat on the hook beside the back
door and took the steaming mug Lilly handed him. He breathed
in the coffee’s rich aroma and took a long, deep sip of the
brew.
“Have a seat, and I’ll make you breakfast,” Lilly said. “I
hope the coffee is okay. I added an extra scoop, so it might be
a little strong.”
The coffee tasted weak to him, but he liked it more than
the bitter brew he usually fixed for himself. “It’s fine.”
Lilly opened the large white box called a refrigerator, took
out a short tube, pulled off the paper covering and whacked it
against the counter. Then she placed the doughy contents on a
flat pan.
“Miss Lilly,” Caleb started. “I’ve got a problem, and I
believe you might be the only one able to help me out.”
“I’d be delighted to help.”
“You best wait until after you hear what I’ve got to say
before you offer your services,” Caleb replied. “It involves
Jacobs, the man who passed through time with me. He
has...needs. I can give him half my food, but he’s a drinking
man.”
“And he’s asked you to get liquor for him.”
“Not exactly. He plans on stealing it, and the only place he
knows where to steal it is from your house. I don’t want him in
here again.”
“That explains why he grabbed the whiskey that first day.
Was he the one pilfering through our things the other night?”
Caleb nodded. “I think so.”
“Money’s tight, but I’ll get a couple of bottles while I’m
out shopping today. I’d rather spend the money and have Becci
mad for a day or two than have that man back in the house.”
“I’d hate to cause trouble between the two of you. Maybe
I should ask Becci.”
“No. It’ll be okay.”
“What will be okay?” Becci asked from the doorway.
“I asked Miss Lilly to help me get a few things for Jacobs,”
Caleb said. He wouldn’t let Lilly lie for him.
He set his cup down, tipped his chair back and let his gaze
roam slowly up Becci from her white shoes to her lips. Today
she wore a pink shirt and matching pants. A tiny hat that looked
as if it belonged on a doll was on her head, and her hair was
twisted up like it had been the night before.
She moistened her bottom lip, and the memory of their
shared kisses flashed through his mind. He wanted to pull her
into his arms and finish what they had started last night.
“What does this Jacobs guy need?” Becci asked as she
poured herself a cup of coffee and pulled out the chair opposite
him.
Suddenly, Caleb remembered his manners, lowered the legs
of his chair and stood. He shifted his gaze to the large oak in
the backyard and then to toward where Becci stood across the
table from him.
Becci drew in a shaky breath and lost herself in the blue
depths of Caleb’s eyes. For a long moment they just stared at
each other. When he looked away, she felt the loss as if it had
been a tender caress instead of a steamy once over.
“What does Jacobs need?” she repeated.
When Caleb faced her again, his expression showed no
emotion. He’d again locked his feelings securely behind an
invisible wall. She wanted to shout at him for shutting her out.
Instead she waited for his answer.
“Food, clothes and whiskey.”
“I don’t have money for liquor.”
“You can’t afford not to buy it.” Caleb’s voice held a
warning. “He’s a drunk, and if he doesn’t have his spirits, he’ll
steal them—or something he can trade to buy them.”
“Fine,” Becci said as she drank the first sip of her coffee.
“There are some old clothes in the shed. He can have those,
and I’ll pick up a bottle of whiskey tonight. And you’d better
tell him to make it last.”
Caleb walked to the door, took his hat off the hook and
brushed the crown with the cuff of his shirt. “I’ll be sure he
understands.”
“I’ve got to leave for work. Just give Aunt Lilly a list of
anything else you need,” Becci said.
“Work?” She’d mentioned work a couple of times, but he’d
thought she meant the work around the house. “You work
outside the house? For other people?”
“Yes. I’m an aide at Methodist North Hospital across the
str
eet.”
He frowned and eased back into the chair. “You shouldn’t
have to work. You’re a woman. Besides, there’s more than
enough for you to do here. Who’s going to do the mending and
the washing and the cooking?”
Becci knew he didn’t understand that today’s women
worked outside the home, so she didn’t get angry at his
chauvinistic statement. “Aunt Lilly and I share the cooking. I
don’t sew. And thanks to the washer and dryer, the laundry
doesn’t consume as much time as it used to. I can wash
everything in one evening after I get home.”
He looked confused, but all he said was, “This work you
do, what is it?”
Becci glanced at her watch. She wanted to explain it to
him because, strangely enough, it mattered what he thought
about her chosen occupation. But she didn’t have time to talk
to him now.
“I’ll tell you tonight,” she said. “If I don’t get out of here,
I’ll be late for work.”
As she rushed out the door, she felt Caleb’s hungry gaze
burning a hole in her back.
***
Jacobs had watched the strange carriage leave the house
last night, stop at the foot of the hill, and back into the trees
out of sight. He hadn’t expected it to still be there this morning,
but it was.
The man opened the car door, stepped out and stretched,
then pulled out a cigar and lit it. Jacobs moved closer and
stepped out from behind his hiding place.
“I know you.” Jacobs cursed the slur he heard in his voice.
The sun still hung high in the sky, but that didn’t mean anything.
He couldn’t remember the last time he was sober.
“Ya come to Raleigh lookin’ for Obadiah some years back,”
Jacobs said as he slipped to the ground under the old magnolia
tree. “Ya bought me a bottle for showin’ ya the way to the
Berclair’s. Drunk or sober, William Jacobs don’t fergit a man
who buys him a bottle.”
“I wondered if you had come with Harrison. Last time we
met I asked you to stick close to him. Do you remember what
you were supposed to find out?”
“Sure do. You said you’d buy me another bottle. You got
the whiskey?”
Ascott reached inside his car and brought out a bottle of
whiskey. Jacobs reached for it, but Ascott jerked it back. “I
can get you a whole case of the stuff for the right information.”
“And what mighten that be, Mr. Ass—cott,” Jacobs leaned
forward, his gaze never straying from the whiskey.
“Where’s Harrison?” Ascott asked.
“Round back diggin’ in the mud around the Widder’s
roses—at least they was her roses. Now I guess they belong to
the women livin’ there at the house.”
Michael frowned. “Widow? Saul’s dead?”
“Yeah, got hisself sick and died ‘bout a year ago.”
“And Rebecca?”
“She’s gone, too.”
“Sorry to hear about Rebecca. She was a fine lady. But if
she’s dead then Harrison probably has the medallion that
matches this one.” Ascott tucked the bottle of whiskey under
his arm and pulled a small metal box out of his pocket. He
opened it and tipped it so Jacobs could see inside.
“Yeah, he does. You told me to steal it, but I ain’t had the
chance,” Jacobs said.
“You’re sure he has it?” Shutting the box, Ascott slipped it
back into his pocket and caught the neck of the bottle.
“Reckon so. He had it when we left Raleigh. Course I ain’t
seen it recently.”
“Find out where it is, and I’ll keep you supplied with this
stuff for the rest of your life.”
Jacobs licked his lips and reached for the bottle. Ascott
didn’t let go. “Deal?”
“Learn where that there necklace is, and I won’t have to
worry about gettin’ myself whiskey?” Ascott nodded and Jacobs
said, “You got yoreself a deal, mister.”
Ascott got in his horseless carriage, then rolled his window
down and said, “Another thing, Jacobs.” Ascott tipped his head
in the direction of the house. “No one up there is to know that
we know each other or the deal’s off.”
* * *
Becci came in the back door. Caleb sat at the table where
she’d left him that morning, a legal pad and set of pastel colored
pencils in front of him.
He glanced up and smiled. Then he shoved the tablet aside
and stood. “Lilly said it was time for you to come home.”
“And I invited him to eat here tonight so you two can talk
about your job,” Lilly added.
Becci felt her heartbeat pick up speed. She’d planned to
talk to Caleb after she’d cleaned off the day’s grime and eaten,
but talking over dinner in the kitchen was better than meeting
Caleb in the shed or beside the lake.
“I’m off to play bridge,” Lilly said as she set a plate of
corn bread in the center of the table. She returned to the stove,
ladled out two bowls of soup and brought them to the table.
“Help yourself to more, and don’t worry about cleaning up.
I’ll do that when I come back.”
Becci eased into her chair and picked up her spoon. She
paused when Caleb bowed his head and blessed the food. “What
were you drawing?” she asked.
He moved the pad so she could see the drawings. “I asked
Lilly if she’d seen the medallion. I drew these to show her
what it looked like.”
He pointed to the first circle. “One side, the front, is for
friendship—two hands clasped together.” He scooted his
fingertip across the page to the second drawing. “The other
side represents hatred—two fists raised in anger. Lilly said she
hadn’t seen anything like it. Have you?”
Becci studied the page. “No. Afraid not.”
He tore the sheet off the pad and tossed it into the garbage
can beside the door.
“The medallion is the key to the portal. I have to have it to
go back and save Luke and Rebecca.”
Picking up his spoon, Caleb kept his gaze on the soup. As
soon as he got the chance, he would ask Becci’s permission to
open the secret compartment in the dresser upstairs and get the
medallion out, but not tonight. He had to find Jacobs first and
make sure the man was with him. Otherwise, the portal might
open up and take him, leaving Jacobs behind. If the drunk got
stuck here, he might do the same thing to Becci and Lilly that
he had done to Rebecca.
“So,” Caleb said. “Tell me about this job of yours.”
***
Becci watched as Caleb knelt before the small chest of
drawers in the nursery, concentrating on the decorative knobs.
A week had passed since she’d come home from work and sat
down with him at the table to tell him about her job. He’d
seemed truly interested in what she did.
What was he doing? she now wondered. She’d asked him
to paint the woodwork, not work on the furniture.
He opened each drawer and ran his hand insi
de all the way
to the back. He left all of them open in a stair-step fashion with
the bottom drawer pulled almost all the way out. With his back
to her he stood, moved to the side, and fiddled with one of the
carved initials. Reaching across the top he turned the other
handle slowly.
Becci couldn’t stop her surprised gasp. The top panel slid
down to reveal a small cubbyhole.
Caleb whirled around, the knife he’d been using to pry the
panel free still clutched in his hand. “You’re early.”
“What are you doing?” Becci shouted, fear erupting inside
her as she gazed at the knife. If the journals were to be believed,
he’d killed her namesake with a knife.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Do you plan on using that on me?” Becci indicated the
knife with a tip of her head.
“No.” Caleb sheathed the blade and laid it on the chest.
“You know I would never harm you.”
“Really? How am I supposed to know that?” she asked,
placing her hands on her hips and glaring at him.
“Because I say I wouldn’t.”
“Okay, you won’t harm me. You’ll just steal from me.
That is what you’re doing, right?”
Caleb glanced toward the dresser. If he told her the truth,
she wouldn’t understand, but he couldn’t lie. The damning
words lodged in his throat.
“Caleb, I need the gold legend says is hidden in this house
so I can help save as many children as possible. So if there
really is gold here, it’s important to me. Now, I ask again, what
are you doing?”
“Opening the top of the chest.”
“I can see that. What I want to know is why?”
“To see if Rebecca might have hidden anything of value in
the chest. Anything that might...”
Pay some of the bills I found while snooping around
downstairs. Put a few coins in your coffers. Buy the cradles
the company refused to send you on credit. Help you, he
thought. But he couldn’t give any of those reasons to Becci. If
she found out he’d been pilfering through her personal things
he would never be able to get the medallion. “...help me discover
how to get back to my time.”
Icy fingers squeezed his heart at the thought of leaving. If
he’d opened the dresser instead of the chest, he might have
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