Christopher, Barbara - Keeper of Key.txt

by Keeper of Key. txt (lit)

  his shirtsleeve and dripped from his fingertips. His arm hung

  limply at his side.

  “The medallion isn’t of any real value. It will only bring

  about your death if you try to keep it,” Caleb cautioned as

  Jacobs snatched it up by the chain.

  “Yore lyin’. You jist want it fer yoreself.”

  “It’s not mine. It belongs to Rebecca,” Caleb said softly.

  “Not no more. She’s dead. So I guess that makes it mine

  for the takin’.”

  “No. It goes in the dresser for Rebecca’s namesake.”

  Rebecca’s namesake. My Becci.

  A different type of pain ripped through him. He would never

  see Becci again. At least his sweet memories of her hadn’t

  been lost in time.

  Jacobs reached for the knife. Caleb caught him by the wrist,

  but his mind wasn’t on the fight. He didn’t want to live without

  Becci. Would she remember him? Would she read his journal

  and know he loved her?

  Jacobs threw his elbow into Caleb, knocking him to his

  back. Then he swept the knife off the floor and swung it toward

  Caleb. Instinctively, Caleb caught the drunk’s wrist in both

  hands, stopping the downward trail of the blade.

  His arms shook with the tension of holding the point away.

  He could feel the blood oozing from the wound in his shoulder,

  whittling at his strength.

  Jacobs was going to win.

  He would never see Becci again.

  The point came closer, aiming straight for his neck.

  Once the blade pierced the vein at his neck the end would

  come quickly. He would never again be able to tell Becci he

  loved her. Never get the chance to hold her. He only hoped that

  she would find someone to love and the happiness she and he

  were destined to never share.

  The knife crept closer, its tip only a fraction away from

  piercing his neck. “I love you, Becci,” he whispered as the last

  of his strength faded, and he surrendered to fate.

  ***

  A raw primitive grief squeezed at Becci’s heart. Tears

  trickled down her cheeks. Why hadn’t she told Caleb she loved

  him with all her heart?

  As hard as she tried to remain calm, she couldn’t. A tremor

  shook her hands as she brushed a kink from the ruffled edge of

  the curtains and straightened the small dish on the nightstand.

  Clenching her fists together, she brought them to her chest as

  deep, shuddering sobs racked her insides.

  What would she do without him?

  Michael waited downstairs with pen and paper in hand. If

  she signed she wouldn’t have the burdens connected with the

  family home. She had the means to keep the house now, but

  without Caleb it meant nothing.

  She picked up both the tiny cube Caleb had carved for her

  and his journal. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared out

  the window, recalling what he’d said when he’d given her the

  box.

  I don’t have much, but I love you, Becci. I love you with

  all my heart.

  She traced the letters that formed her name. The spoken

  words had been hard for him to express, but at that moment

  she’d felt more loved than at any other time in her life. He’d

  been with her for almost five weeks. He’d held her, kissed her,

  and loved her, but he’d never promised her more than the

  moment. He’d told her he had a promise to keep—a child to

  raise and a woman to support.

  A shudder rippled through her, and she clutched the two

  items Caleb had left behind to her chest.

  Caleb was gone. Gone.

  Don’t panic. Remain calm and be patient, Becci.

  The thoughts floated through her mind with a soft sternness

  that made the air vibrate with a fierce intensity.

  Becci drew in a deep breath. How could she relax when all

  she could do was relive the incidents of the last few minutes?

  One moment Caleb and Jacobs had been struggling over

  the knife, and the next they’d plummeted through the door.

  Their image had frozen for an instant, and then they’d

  disappeared.

  Becci flipped on the lamp, set the journal and the trinket

  box down and ran her fingertip over the hand-carved “B” that

  adorned each piece of furniture. The journals said Caleb had

  made the furniture for her namesake. Did Rebecca really hide

  gold in the secret compartments of the other furniture?

  Her heart raced. Apprehension gripped her. She didn’t dare

  look, not with Michael in the house.

  “Becci?”

  Oh Lord, Michael! She couldn’t let him find the journal or

  the medallion. She had to hide them, but where?

  She jerked open the bottom drawer, shoved the trinket box

  to the far back corner and slipped the journal under a stack of

  shorts. It was the best she could do for now.

  “Where’s Jacobs?” Michael called up from the foot of the

  stairs, a note of anger lacing his voice.

  “Jacobs?” Why would he ask for Jacobs? He hadn’t even

  met the man, had he?

  “He vanished.” Her words sounded so final. “Caleb, too.”

  Disappeared, as if they’d never been. Again her chest

  tightened and tears filled her eyes, blurring everything before

  her.

  She could feel Caleb’s presence in the hall. The caress of

  his eyes fanned the flames of desire just as they had when they’d

  shared his supper down by the lake. She sensed the excitement

  and fear, the hope and the regret. But most of all she felt the

  love that had flourished between them. In one night he had

  shown her what it meant to be cherished.

  “I love you, Caleb Harrison,” Becci declared. “I’ll keep

  the door open for you for as long as it takes. Please come back.

  Please.”

  She repeated the words like a mantra, wishing with all her

  heart that he would return, and knowing that she had no control

  over the time portal.

  Nothing would bring him back if he didn’t want to return.

  ***

  Caleb waited for the knife to deliver the final wound.

  Instead, he heard a loud crack echo through the hall. Jacobs’

  eyes widened as a cry of pain hissed from between his clenched

  teeth, and he went stiff-backed. His body jerked convulsively,

  and his hand opened. For a fraction of a second the knife teetered

  on his palm before clattering to the floor. He stared down at

  Caleb with shock, and then he fell forward.

  “Rebecca?” Caleb whispered. Had she come to his rescue?

  “Rebecca,” he called again, drawing in a shaky breath. The

  acrid smell of gunpowder mixed with the soft scent of lavender.

  Luke’s hoarse cry echoed from downstairs.

  “Caleb.” Rebecca’s pain-riddled voice beckoned him.

  “Caleb...”

  “I’m here, Rebecca. I’m here,” Caleb muttered, pushing

  himself to a sitting position. Pain slashed through his shoulder

  when he moved. But he ignored it as he dragged himself to

  where Rebecca lay on the floor, the dueling pistol she’d used

  on Jacobs on the floor beside her.

  “Luke...get L
uke,” she gasped, grabbing his sleeve with

  one hand while pressing the other to her chest. Blood covered

  her slender fingers and trickled down her arm to drip onto her

  dress.

  “Please, take him with you.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Rebecca.” Caleb took her hand and

  brought it to his lips before laying it on his knee. He slipped

  off his shirt, gently lifted the hand from her chest and covered

  the wound with the soft material.

  “Please.” Rebecca’s words poured out between deep gasps

  of breath. “Get Luke. Take care of him.”

  “I will, Rebecca. I will.”

  “Oh, dear Lord, I’m so sorry.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Shh. Save your strength, Mary Rebecca.”

  Rebecca clutched at his shirt and drew in a sharp gasp.

  Whether for courage or from pain, he didn’t know. Her voice

  was barely a whisper, and Caleb leaned forward to hear her.

  “This is all yours now,” she whispered. “Now you have

  everything you’ve ever wanted.”

  “No,” Caleb whispered back.

  “No,” she agreed. Her eyelids fluttered open. She rolled

  her head in a weak gesture toward the bedroom. “She can be

  yours, too. If that’s what you choose.”

  Caleb glanced at the muted image of the future. His future

  if he wanted it, and he nodded in understanding. Becci’s

  transparent form hovered so close yet so far away.

  He loved her. He didn’t want to lose her, but he’d made a

  promise to Saul.

  “You must choose. Make your choice from here,” she said

  resting her hand against his chest. “Do it quickly. If she leaves

  the room, the door will close forever. But remember, nothing

  is for certain.”

  “I can’t go to her. I promised to look after Luke. He needs

  me here.”

  Rebecca expelled a pain-riddled gasp. “Take him with you.”

  “Oh, Rebecca, I can’t. The pain would kill him.”

  Rebecca coughed and swallowed hard. “No, it was Jacobs

  who caused the disruption. Go to her. Take Luke with you.”

  Caleb watched Becci. She was clutching the small trinket

  box to her chest. Did she love him? How could he even consider

  burdening her with a ready-made family?

  Rebecca expelled an anguished cry. “Hold me, Caleb. Hold

  me. I don’t want to die alone. I’m so alone.”

  “I’m here. I’ll stay with you,” Caleb said, gently lifting

  her to his chest. He ignored the pain that sliced through his

  shoulder and rocked her gently.

  “Kiss Luke for me,” she murmured, then she drew in one

  sharp breath, and her arm slid down Caleb’s chest to hang limply

  at her side.

  Tears slid down Caleb’s cheeks. He held her tightly for a

  moment then said, “I will, Mary Rebecca. I’ll kiss him for

  you.”

  He eased her to the floor. Wind howled through the house,

  and Caleb looked down the long flight of steps to the entry

  hall. Eli’s and Saul’s portraits were the only two lining the

  walls, but in the future six ancestral portraits would be displayed

  in the stairwell gallery.

  Luke’s should have been next, but he’d seen the future.

  Obadiah had stolen Luke’s inheritance. The only way he would

  have what was rightfully his would be to take him to the future.

  To Becci.

  He caught the handrail and pulled himself up. The

  movement caused a wave of dizziness to sweep over him. He’d

  lost too much blood, and his vision blurred. He fought to clear

  his head. If he didn’t get Luke to Becci, Ascott would win. He

  wouldn’t let Jacobs or Ascott take away Luke’s future or his.

  He glanced toward the bedroom. Becci stood a few feet

  from the threshold and his heart skipped a beat. She was leaving

  the room. He had to get to her, but he couldn’t leave Luke

  behind.

  “No. Becci, please. Wait for me,” he pleaded knowing his

  words were several lifetimes too far away for her to hear.

  He hurried down the steps. Luke’s cry came from the parlor.

  He found the boy, scooped him up, and stumbled back up the

  stairs. Each step took its toll on his waning energy.

  As they reached the top landing, Luke screamed and

  reached for Rebecca.

  “I’m sorry,” Caleb whispered and turned away. He could

  only hope Luke would love Becci as much as he’d loved his

  mother.

  Caleb moved toward the threshold. Luke snuggled against

  his chest. One more step. His hand touched the frame. Oh,

  Lord. Where was the key? Without it he couldn’t reach Becci.

  “Noooo!” he cried as she inched closer to the door.

  He tightened his hold on Luke and shoved himself toward

  Jacobs. “Where is it?” he yelled as he shifted Luke into his

  injured arm, grabbed Jacobs by the shoulder and rolled him

  over. The coin wasn’t there. He quickly glanced at the door.

  Becci’s hand rested on the shimmering edge of the portal, and

  panic wrapped its fingers around his throat.

  He was losing her. Only two steps separated her from the

  doorway. Without realizing what she was doing, she would

  lock him in the past and seal his fate. The thin thread of love

  he’d tried to grasp was slowly slipping away from him. Even

  if he had the medallion in his hand there would not be enough

  time for Luke and him to cross over before she passed through

  the doorway.

  Lightning flashed. Caleb caught the flicker of something

  at the edge of the balcony. Another flash illuminated the hall,

  sending a glittering beam off the thin, bright chain. Hope

  gathered inside him, but as he reached for the medallion, it fell

  over the edge of the balcony.

  He lunged for it as the last inch rolled over the edge.

  Twenty-three

  Becci wiped the moisture from her cheeks and stared at

  the rainbow reflection around the door. It glowed in an eerie

  rippling circle, and she recalled that Caleb had told her she

  wasn’t supposed to go through the door as long as there were

  lights around it. But Michael was calling her, and if she didn’t

  go downstairs, he’d come up here. She didn’t want him near

  her bedroom

  With hesitant steps, she moved across the room to the door.

  A noise stopped her. It sounded like Caleb’s voice, calling out

  for her to wait. Turning to make a quick sweeping glance around

  the room, she turned back to the door.

  “Caleb?” she called. “Caleb, are you there?”

  Silence greeted her.

  She hadn’t really expected an answer. It was just wishful

  thinking that made her believe she’d heard him. She took

  another step toward the entry. New tears rolled down her cheeks.

  He was really gone.

  Her hand touched the door frame just as a gust of wind

  whipped through the room and sent the curtains flapping. If it

  was going to rain, she needed to close the window and check

  the other rooms before heading downstairs.

  To keep Michael from coming upstairs, she yelled, “I’ll be

  down in a minute, Michael.”<
br />
  She crossed to the window and leaned her forehead against

  the cool pane. She’d been about to close the window the first

  time she saw Caleb. Dropping to her knees, she clutched her

  waist and bent forward. Caleb was gone, and he wasn’t coming

  back.

  Life would go on.

  Time would go on.

  The hall floor creaked under the weight of cautious

  footsteps. Becci cringed. She wouldn’t be alone much longer.

  Michael was coming despite her effort to keep him away.

  She pushed herself to her feet just as she heard shoe leather

  brush the hardwood flooring behind her. Knowing she had to

  be strong, she wiped at her tears, determined not to let Michael

  see her crying. She didn’t want to confront him yet, but how

  could she avoid him?

  “Go away,” Becci ordered without looking back.

  A warm, masculine hand closed around her shoulders. The

  gentle caress sent a ripple of longing to her heart. Only Caleb

  could create the hunger she felt radiating from the fingers gently

  feathering over her skin. Only he created this longing for love

  and the protection she’d never experienced except with him.

  But Caleb was gone, and it was Michael’s touch she felt.

  With a slight squeeze, a warm hand reached around, turned

  her head and lifted her chin with one finger and Becci gasped.

  “Caleb? Oh, Caleb! Is it really you?”

  He circled her with his free arm and pressed a kiss to her

  temple. “Darling, I would like for you to meet my godson,

  Luke. I promised Rebecca I would keep him safe. He’s an

  orphan now. I’m all he has, and I’ll understand if you don’t

  want...If you...” Caleb swallowed around the lump in his throat.

  Luke took a shuddering breath, and Becci reached up and

  wiped away a single tear that trickled down his cheek.

  “Oh, Caleb, he’s beautiful. I...” Tears flooded her eyes.

  She wanted to tell him she would gladly be Luke’s godmother

  if Caleb would stay here and marry her. But was he here to

  stay? She had to be sure before she made a fool of herself.

  She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed Caleb on the cheek.

  He tightened his hold around her waist and returned her kiss.

  Lightning, followed by the crack of thunder, jarred them

  apart. Rain pelted the glass and without taking his eyes off

  Becci, Caleb reached behind her and forced the window down.