“Desires,” he repeated. He hoped, for Becci’s sake, he could
keep his promise to Lilly.
Musical tones echoed through the room. The doorbell.
“There’s a basket in the corner cabinet in the dining room.
Put the biscuits in it while I see who’s at the door. Hopefully I
can get rid of them before our supper gets cold.”
Caleb found a linen napkin in one of the drawers and lined
the basket before dumping the biscuits in it and placing it on
the table.
Becci rounded the corner and greeted him with a polite
smile that didn’t touch her eyes. An instant later Lilly came
from the opposite direction, followed closely by Michael.
“Becci, darling,” Michael gushed. He brushed past Lilly
and caught Becci by the shoulders, giving her a kiss. “You
must be physic. I decide to come by at the last minute, and
you’ve got a place already set for me at the table.”
“It’s not—,” Becci said, trying to tell him the spot belonged
to Caleb, but Michael interrupted.
“Who else would it be for? Surely you’re not entertaining
the hired help,” he said with an arrogant nod in Caleb’s
direction.
Becci’s gaze met Caleb’s. She didn’t know what to do. A
knot tightened in her stomach. She and Caleb needed to talk.
His eyes had glistened with excitement when she’d come home.
Now a barrier cloaked all but one emotion—his animosity
toward Michael.
Caleb took his hat off the hook and settled it on his head.
“I’ll get that list of chores from you in the morning. It’s late,
and I need to go rustle up some grub. Night, Miss Lilly. Becci.
Y’all have a nice evening.”
Thirteen
“You will not let that man come in this house again!”
Michael shouted.
Becci rested her fists on her hips and glared at Michael.
“Caleb is my friend, and you have no right to tell me who can
come into my home and who can’t.”
“I have every right,” Michael said. Grabbing Becci’s left
wrist, he lifted her hand until her engagement ring was only
inches from her face. “This gives me that right. You’re mine.”
Air hissed through his clenched teeth as he drew in a deep
breath. His eyes, barely visible through his squinted gaze, were
dark with a stormy rage she’d never realized existed in him. A
paralyzing fear snaked through her. He wouldn’t hurt her. Or
would he?
Michael whipped a curt glance in Lilly’s direction, and
her aunt also froze.
“What’s gotten into you, Becci?” Michael asked returning
his attention to her. “That...bum waltzes in here full of mystery
and in need of a handout, and you all but invite him into your
bed. Or have you done that, too?”
Becci’s anger outweighed her fear. Without thought, her
palm cracked against Michael’s cheek, the sound echoing
through the kitchen. Then there was nothing but silence. It hung
like a suffocating mantle as the seconds passed slowly.
She cut her gaze to her wrist, which Michael still held. He
wouldn’t win. She wouldn’t let him. She curled her fingers
into a fist and glanced up. His grip tightened a little more. An
eternity passed as she and Michael stared at each other, his
fury battling her smoldering rage.
But despite her anger, icy fingers of fear skidded down her
spine, and she couldn’t stop the tremor that rippled over her.
She’d never encountered this side of Michael, and now that
she had, she knew she’d never marry him.
Michael drew a breath between his clenched teeth and
closed his eyes. Whether to regain control or as an attempt to
cover his true feelings, Becci didn’t know. When he opened
his eyes, the surliness had vanished, replaced by a cool
nonchalance.
“I’m sorry. I deserved that.” He hesitated for a moment,
then loosened his grip but didn’t let her go.
Becci rubbed her free hand against her thigh and drew in a
deep breath, forcing the tension out of her body.
“Let me go, Michael,” she ordered, breathing a silent prayer
of thanks for the firmness reflected in her voice.
Instead of releasing her, Michael said, “I’m so jealous,
Becci. Every time I talk to you or Lilly, you mention something
about your illustrious guest and how much he’s helping you
get things ready for the party. He’s doing all the things I should
be doing, but I don’t have time. It’s...humiliating.”
Michael brushed a kiss to her palm, then slid his hands to
her shoulder. “Why are you so blind to his actions, honey?
Can’t you tell he’s only after your money? I bet he’s read every
one of Rebecca’s journals and knows there’s gold in this house.
Please be careful.”
“Gold? How do you know about the gold?”
“I...I don’t know,” he stammered. “You must have
mentioned it. Or maybe I overheard you and Lilly talking about
it. It’s really not important.” Becci eyed him warily. Her
question had shaken him. Why?
“What’s important,” Michael continued, “is for you to
watch out for Mr. Harrison. With all the creeps out there today,
he might be a murderer, or a rapist.”
“No, Michael. Caleb’s my friend. He wouldn’t hurt me or
anyone else.” She knew she meant the statement to bolster her
own feelings as well as convince Michael of its truth. She had
nothing to worry about. Nothing.
But even as she gave herself the pep talk, Caleb’s
declaration echoed in her head. I killed a man once. She couldn’t
believe Caleb would take a life, but he’d admitted that he had.
Yet, there was a gentleness in him that belied his statement.
But if he hadn’t killed a man, why would he say he had?
She must have frowned at the silent question because
Michael drew his knuckles down her cheek. She suspected he
meant his touch to be soothing. It wasn’t.
Shouldn’t the caress of the man you supposedly loved make
you feel...loved? Where were the sparks? Or the wild fluttering?
Where were the signs of passion Meg had asked her about?
Where were all the things she felt when Caleb touched her?
Caleb Harrison had changed her. Sparks had ignited
between them from the moment he’d arrived, and they were
still hovering just below the surface, ready to be rekindled.
Lust, excitement, and, yes, fear, too.
Not fear like she felt at Michael’s rage, but fear of her
attraction for Caleb. Besides, Caleb didn’t share the desire she
felt. He wanted to find the elusive medallion and go back to
Luke and Rebecca.
Did Caleb have an ulterior motive as Michael suggested?
Caleb had said he wouldn’t infringe on another man’s woman,
so why did he keep touching her? Kissing her?
Becci stepped away from Michael’s touch. She didn’t have
answers to her questions about Caleb, but she knew what she
had to do about Michael. Lifting her hand so he could see it,
s
he removed the ring and held it out to him. “I think you should
take this back. I’m not the woman you need, Michael. I don’t
love you.”
“No!” Michael shoved her hand away. Then he took a deep
breath and calmly said, “Don’t give it back, yet. You’re under
a lot of stress, financially as well as emotionally. Asking you
to marry me only added to your problems. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t
have proposed until this was all over with, but I was desperate.”
Desperate for what? Ownership of her house? Control of
the money she’d yet to see? It couldn’t be desperation for her
because he’d never acted like a desperate lover. Sure, he’d
kissed her, but where was the need she’d felt in Caleb’s kiss?
The hunger she’d felt in Caleb’s touch? A hunger that she’d
never felt in Michael. She extended the ring again. It was time
she faced the truth. She’d never loved Michael and never would.
He took the ring and spun it around, letting the stone sparkle
in the light. With a sigh, he caught her hand, laid it in her palm,
and curled her fingers over it.
“You don’t have to wear it, but keep it for now and think
about what this means to both of us. After Ascomp makes their
decision, you’ll have a little less stress to deal with, and if you
still want to break our engagement then, I’ll understand.”
The oven door squeaked, reminding Becci of her aunt’s
presence.
“Supper’s getting cold,” Lilly said as she moved around
them and placed a platter containing a large roast, surrounded
by carrots, in the center of the table. She glanced at Becci and
picked up her plate. Becci didn’t miss the message reflected in
Lilly’s eyes. She didn’t like Michael, and although she’d
planned to eat with Becci and Caleb, she wouldn’t stay in the
same room with Michael any longer then necessary. Lilly filled
her plate, picked up her glass of iced tea and went to the parlor.
Michael held out a chair and motioned for Becci to sit
down. “About the ring, if it isn’t on your finger after the party,
I’ll have my answer. Now, let’s eat before our dinner gets cold.”
Michael took Caleb’s place, his back to the window.
Becci glanced toward the large oak in the back yard. An
aura of light from the shed’s window circled a retreating figure.
She couldn’t see the figure clearly, but she didn’t have to. The
width of his shoulders told her it could only be Caleb.
“Michael, I don’t need time to think things over. I don’t
love you. I hope you’ll remain my friend, but friendship is all I
can offer you.”
With a deep sigh, she laid the ring next to Michael’s plate.
Relief swamped her. It was like leaving a stuffy attic after hours
of dusty, grueling work. She felt...free.
As soon as Michael left she would find Caleb and explain
everything. Tomorrow they would plan a picnic, and, hopefully,
she could convince him that the only thing that waited for him
in the past was a hangman’s noose.
Michael slipped the ring in his pocket. “Fine. We’ll just
make tonight’s dinner a celebration of our new, strictly business
relationship.”
He picked up his water glass and lifted it in a parody of a
toast before taking a drink. His eyes were as hard as granite.
She had the oddest sensation that he was plotting against her.
But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it?
***
As Caleb glanced up, Jacobs dropped his findings next to
the flickering beginnings of the campfire.
Jacobs pulled out a half empty bottle of whiskey. At least
he’d heeded Caleb’s warning about the limited supply of spirits.
Caleb positioned the larger logs carefully around the fire
so they wouldn’t smother what little flames he’d been able to
create. Fire licked at the damp logs, sending a spiral of smoke
skyward. Once he was satisfied that the fire would thrive, he
secured the fish on a limb, laid it in the hot embers and leaned
back against the log he’d used the night he and Becci had shared
his dinner.
A gentle breeze made the leaves dance in a crooked path
along the bank. The water’s surface rippled. Caleb expelled a
long, harsh breath. He had no reason to complain. If things
went the way he hoped, in one more day he would be out of
Becci’s way and teaching Luke how to ride a horse and catch
fish.
He watched the darkness swallow the trees on the opposite
side of the lake. With an eerie resemblance to a shroud, the
dark sky stretched endlessly over the lake. Not even the stars
twinkled.
“Nice git-up,” Jacobs said, gesturing toward Caleb’s new
clothes as he offered Caleb his bottle. “The pants is a little
short fer a full-growed man, don’t ya think?”
“No, not for here. These are what people of today wear
when the weather gets too hot for working in breeches.” Caleb
declined the bottle Jacobs offered with a shake of his head.
“Thanks, but you know I don’t drink whiskey.”
No matter how bad things got, he refused to drown his
feelings with a temporary antidote. It might help for a night,
but it wouldn’t cure his problems.
“We don’t belong here, Jacobs. I know how to get us back
home.”
“Well, what are ya waitin’ fer? I’m ready to wake up out
of yore dream. This place gives me the creeps. It’s Miz
Rebecca’s house in some ways and not in others.”
“It’s not that easy. I have to locate the medallion I had on
the day we moved the dresser.”
“That there gold piece?”
“Yep, that’s it, but it’s not gold, it’s orichalc. I put it in the
dresser, and I believe it has something to do with the passageway
that brought us here.”
“Yore serious, aren’t you? This ain’t no whiskey dream?”
“It’s no dream,” Caleb confirmed.
“You do want to go back, don’t ya?”
“It’s not a matter of wanting. I have a promise to keep.
Besides, there’s nothing here for me.” Pain gnawed at Caleb’s
stomach. An innocent child awaited his return, a child that
needed him. But if he took the medallion, would Becci find the
remaining gold before she lost Berclair Manor? Would she ever
have her nursery? The one that would help a whole lot of
children? He didn’t like having to choose between one child
and so many. And that’s what he would be doing—choosing
one over many.
“After the way you’ve been behavin’, I thought you might
be sweet on that little filly. Wouldn’t take much fer ya to git in
there and toss that feller out.”
“I can’t do that. She...she’s taken. Was before I came. Will
be when I’m gone. According to Lilly, that’s what the ring on
Becci’s left hand stands for. Lilly called it an engagement ring.
Sort of like swearing on the Bible. I’d be wrong to toss him
out.”
“What you gonna do?” Jacobs asked as he lifted the stick
and turned the fish over.
“I have to find a way to get the medallion.” Silently, he
added, I have to become a sneak and a thief. I have to become
all the things Becci hates. I have to steal from her.
***
Jacobs lifted the bottle to his lips and drained the last of its
contents. Empty. He sure hoped this call-me-mister-Ascott feller
held up his end of the bargain. Jacobs wiped his mouth on his
filthy shirtsleeve. He’d been waiting beside the metal machine
for almost an hour. It shouldn’t be too much longer. After all,
Ascott and that little filly had left the table quite some time
ago.
The front door opened. A wide streak of light flashed across
the rocky path, and voices came from around the corner of the
house. Jacobs darted for cover. It wouldn’t be right to have
Miz Becci catch him and her feller conducting business. If
everything went right, he’d have half the widder’s gold and be
on his way to Raleigh before Caleb knew he’d been tricked.
With gold in his pockets, they couldn’t refuse to serve him
whiskey. And until he found the gold for Ascott, the man would
keep him well supplied.
As quick as the light had painted squares on the rocks, it
erased them, leaving the area shrouded in darkness. The woman
went back into the house, and Ascott walked toward his riding
contraption. Jacobs stepped out of the deep shadows to stand
in front of the man.
“What have you got for me?” Ascott asked, glancing
furtively toward the house.
“You bring the whiskey?”
Ascott nodded.
“You’s right about the me-dallion. He says it’s hidden
upstairs.”
“Where?”
“Didn’t say,” Jacobs lied. “I’ll find out before Saturday.
If’n we come to terms. That’d be another case of this here
whiskey.”
“Deal,” Ascott whispered. “You’d better keep your part of
the bargain, or I’ll make sure this deal will be the last one you
ever make.”
Ascott moved to the rear of the vehicle and opened a strange
flap. Bottles rattled as he set a box on the ground and slammed
the flap down.
Jacobs licked his lips and reached for a bottle. Ascott caught
his wrist. “Don’t get so drunk you foul things up. I want that
medallion, and I don’t mind killing to get it.”
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