“Jane,” he said, when she finally ran out of things to do, and sat down to eat. “Is something wrong? Have you had second thoughts about letting me stay?”
And then a car pulled into the drive, stopping near the shop, and saving her from having to answer. She couldn’t tell him. Not yet. She wasn’t even sure how to tell him, and she certainly couldn’t do it in front of Cody. She needed to speak to him when they were alone together, and only after she’d found the right words to convince him to give up this insane quest.
“I have to…” she began, but her words trailed off, because Zach was on his feet, rushing to the door, gazing out at the car with amazement on his face.
Jane couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she walked up behind him. “It’s a car. Um…an automobile. They…” The horn sounded. “Gee, Zach, I have an impatient customer to tend to. The explanation is going to have to wait until later.”
“Go on, Mom. Me and Zach’ll be fine.” Cody came to stand close to Zach’s other side.
“Zach and I,” Jane said. “A whiz kid is supposed to know grammar.”
Cody made a face at her, then glanced up at Zach. “You’ve seen cars before, right, Zach?”
Zach nodded, his gaze remaining riveted to the late-model Cadillac out front. “Nothing like that one, my boy.”
Jane sighed. There wasn’t any time to lose. She moved past them, out the door and down the driveway to the little shop resting at the end. And she knew as soon as she saw the car’s passenger that she was in for a long visit. Isabelle Curry, the town of Rockwell’s librarian and resident gossip. Fortunately, she was also an avid antique collector. A good customer, but a trying one. “Give me strength,” Jane muttered, and plastered a smile on her face.
“Amazing,” Zach said, trailing his hand over the smooth, gleaming red finish of the automobile, peering through the windscreen. “The glass is darkened.”
“To keep the sun outta your eyes,” Cody explained. “Why don’t you get inside it, Zach? Mrs. Curry won’t mind. She’s nice.”
“I don’t think…” Zach stopped speaking when Cody pulled the door open, giving him a better view inside the machine. He couldn’t stop himself. He poked his head into the thing and ran his hand over the soft plush fabric of the seats. And then he jumped a bit, because the boy had opened the door on the other side and jumped into the car.
“C’mon, Zach. I’ll show you how it works.”
“Cody, that probably isn’t—”
“Look,” Cody said, pointing. “It has a radio, and a CD player, so you can listen to music while you drive.”
Cody twisted a set of keys that were dangling from the steering wheel, and then punched a button. Loud music—or something that vaguely resembled music—flooded the vehicle.
Amazed, Zach slid inside, settling himself behind the wheel and ignoring the deafening sounds.
“It’s really easy to drive it,” Cody said loudly. “Even I know how.”
“You?”
“Sure. I watch Mom all the time.”
“Your mother owns an automobile?”
“Sure she does. How do you think we go anyplace? It’s in the garage, over there.” He pointed, and Zach noticed the small outbuilding near where the pony shed used to be. “Look, it’s simple,” Cody went on. “First, you turn the key, like this…”
Cody turned the key still farther, and the vehicle came to life. Zach felt a smile splitting his face as the vibration of the motor moved through him, smooth and efficient and quiet. Far removed from the autos he’d driven.
“Then you just move this shift, here,” Cody went on, as if thrilled with his role as teacher. “Push that pedal to go, and the other one to stop. Simple.”
“There’s no choke? No clutch?”
“Nope.” Cody’s eyes had taken on a decidedly mischievous gleam. “Wanna try it?”
Zach chewed his lip, truly torn. On the one hand, this was not his machine, and he had no business experimenting with it. On the other…oh, the wonder of it! He could barely contain the excitement coursing through him.
The decision was taken from his hands a second later, when Cody yanked on the shifting lever and the auto lurched backward. Its hindquarters were pointed directly toward the guest house at the end of the drive, and Zach barely managed to turn the wheel and alter its direction in time to miss the building. He stomped on the pedal that he thought was supposed to stop the thing, but instead it went faster.
“Tarnation!” he exclaimed, steering madly as the auto raced backward in a loopy pattern across the lawn.
“I shifted wrong!” Cody shouted, and yanked on the lever yet again. There was a horrible grinding sound. The vehicle lurched and bucked, suddenly changing direction and heading forward now.
Jane and a heavyset, bejeweled woman had emerged from the guest house. Both waved their arms and shouted, though Zach couldn’t hear what they said, with the music blasting in his ears and Cody’s uproarious laughter. The auto bounded over the grass, across the drive, and pointed its beak right at the two women. They split as it rolled between them. Zach glanced over his shoulder to see the older woman picking herself up off the ground. If her face was any indication, she was hopping mad.
He tried the other pedal, and the vehicle ground to a stop so suddenly that he had to grab hold of the boy to keep him from being flung forward and hitting his head. He didn’t dare remove his foot from the pedal. Though when the two women came running toward him, he was tempted to do just that. Free up his feet for a quick escape.
Jane got to the vehicle first, yanked the door open and reached past him to move the lever once more. With a snap of her wrist, she twisted the keys and yanked them out of the car when the motor died.
“What in the name of God do you think you’re doing?” she screamed at Zach. Then her face softened as she sought the eyes of her son. “Cody, sweetheart, are you okay?”
“Sure, Mom. I was just showing Zach how to drive, is all.” He slanted a glance at Zach. “He’s not very good at it, though, is he?”
The other woman had arrived now, spluttering and red-faced. “Who is this person, and what in the world is he doing in my car?”
“It’s all right, Mrs. Curry,” Jane said soothingly, turning to the woman. “No harm done. The car is fine, see?”
Cody got out his side, and Zach figured it would be a good idea to do the same. He was embarrassed beyond measure.
“It was my fault,” Cody said, hurrying around the car. “I wanted to try driving your car, Mrs. Curry. I thought I knew how. Gee, if Zach hadn’t jumped in and stopped it, I don’t know what I would have done.”
Jane’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, and she glared at her son. “Cody Nicholas Fortune, you know better than to—”
“Oh, my!” said Mrs. Curry, rushing to Cody and hugging him against her ample belly until Zach wondered if the boy would be smothered. “You poor child. You must have been so frightened. Oh, Jane, you mustn’t punish him for this. Boys will be boys, you know. I never should have left the keys in the ignition with a child of his age nearby. Whatever could I have been thinking?”
She released Cody, who sent his mother an angelic smile. And then Zach found himself embraced by the ubiquitous Mrs. Curry. “And you!” she ranted, squeezing him until his seams nearly popped. “A true hero. Chasing down that car and jumping in to save a little boy! What courage!”
“Thank you,” he managed, but his words were muffled by her embrace.
She released him, beaming. “Jane, dear, aren’t you going to introduce me to this modern-day superman?”
Jane—from behind gritted teeth, Zach suspected—said, “Of course. Isabelle Curry, meet Zachariah B—” She bit her lip.
“Bolton,” Zach finished automatically. Jane made her eyes huge and sent him a look that would wilt fresh lettuce. “Er…the third,” he added.
Isabelle blinked. “Of course! I would know you anywhere. My goodness, have you any idea how much you resemble your grandfathe
r?”
“I’ve been told it’s quite remarkable,” Zach said.
“I should say so. Whatever brings you to Rockwell, Mr. Bolton?”
Zach frowned and searched his brain.
“He’s, er…tracing his family tree,” Jane said quickly.
“Yes. I was very eager to see what my… grandfather’s house looked like today.”
“Well, of course you are,” Isabelle said. “Where are you staying while you’re here, Zachariah?”
“Here,” he said.
Jane’s eyes burned holes through him.
“Here?” Isabelle repeated. Her excitement died a slow death, and something else replaced it in her eyes as she looked from him to Jane and back again. “With Jane?”
Jane lowered her forehead into her palm.
“Well, now, isn’t that…nice?” Isabelle said. She turned to Jane, but when their eyes met, the smile left Isabelle’s lips. “I really should be on my way. Lots to do, you know.” She held out a hand to Jane. “My keys, dear.”
Jane handed them over, then looked on as Isabelle got into the car and started the engine. The woman grimaced when the music blasted, and poked her thumb on a button a little harder than was probably necessary to shut the sound off. A second later, she was gone, spewing gravel in her wake.
Jane pushed her hair back with both hands, tipping her head skyward. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“I apologize, Jane,” Zach said. “I was so intrigued by the automobile that I used poor judgment.”
“You,” she said, poking him in the center of his chest with her finger, “are not to get anywhere near a car again unless I’m with you. Got it?”
He nodded, but couldn’t help smiling a bit at her anger.
“And you,” she said to her son. “You lied to Mrs. Curry. How many times have I told you about honesty?”
“Well, gee, Mom, I couldn’t tell her the truth. That Zach didn’t know how to drive because he came from another time, and stuff. She wouldn’t have believed me.”
“You…you…” Jane looked helplessly at Zach. Zach shrugged.
“Besides, you lied to her, too.”
“Well, yes, but…” She blinked slowly. “Cody, I…” And finally shook her head. “You’re right. I lied, too, and it was wrong. Unfortunately, I had to.”
“So instead of never telling lies at all, we should never tell lies unless we have to?” Cody asked innocently.
The child’s intelligence was astounding. And Zach knew the boy was only teasing his mother at this point. Fortunately, Jane knew it, too. He could tell by the narrowing of her eyes. She dropped down to her knees and took her son by the shoulders. “There might be times, Cody, when you have to tell a lie to other people, especially if you’re doing it to avoid hurting someone or causing a whole lot of trouble, or because you know you won’t be believed anyway. But there will never, never, be a time when you will have to lie to me. Understand? No matter what you have to tell me, Codester, I’ll believe you. So you’ll never have to keep the truth from me. All right?”
Cody smiled. “Okay, Mom.”
“Good.”
“Can I go ride my bike now?”
She nodded, and he turned and raced away toward the back of the house.
Zach couldn’t take his eyes from her.
“What are you looking at?” she asked when she met his gaze at last.
He shook his head slowly. “I…” He cleared his throat. “Your son is very lucky to have you for a mother, Jane Fortune.”
A pink blush crept up her neck and spread into her face. Zach resisted the urge to reach out with his hand, and feel the warmth of it.
She blinked, perhaps in confusion. “Compliments aren’t going to get you out of this, Zachariah. You screwed up.”
“Mrs. Curry will get over it.”
“Sure she will, but not before she’s told everyone in town that I’m a shameless hussy who’s captured herself one hell of a hunk and is parading him around right in front of her impressionable son.”
“What,” he asked, “is a hunk?”
Her blush deepened and she lifted her brows. “I didn’t say hunk, I said skunk.”
“I distinctly heard you say hunk.”
“My reputation is ruined. They’ll probably report me as an unfit mother.”
“You think Mrs. Curry believes we’re…er…”
“Having sex?” she inserted, and Zach blinked at her casual use of the words. “Of course she does. What else would she think?”
“I fail to see why she’d jump to such a drastic conclusion.”
“Take a look in the mirror, Zach. Mrs. Curry isn’t numb from the neck down, or blind, or gay. And she’s probably pretty sure I’m not any of those things, either.” She shook her head. “Lord, I hope it doesn’t make the Rockwell Daily Star. ‘Local Spinster Living in Sin. Read all about it!’”
Zach resisted the urge to laugh. She was sincerely upset over the blemish he’d caused to her reputation. Though it was difficult to focus on that, when he was fairly certain she’d just said she found him attractive. Unless he’d misunderstood.
“Gossip hasn’t changed much, has it?”
“Nothing’s changed in this little town, Zach. Anywhere else, it wouldn’t matter if I paraded men in and out of my bedroom day and night. No one would care. Here, though, we have Isabelle Curry, Rockwell’s answer to modern morality, and her partner in crime, Pastor McDermott. And they’re both on the school board, too.” She shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” Zach told her, and he meant it. “Perhaps we could say I was renting a room from you, or…”
“No one would believe it, Zach.”
Zach sighed, truly sorry for causing Jane so much strife. “I suppose the best thing I can do is get hold of that miracle drug of yours as soon as possible, and be on my way. Surely your reputation can survive a mere three days of living in sin?” She rolled her eyes. “Meanwhile, Jane, would it be better if I were to stay here in the guest house?”
“It’s not a guest house anymore.”
Zach looked past her, at the guest house—or at what had been the guest house. Now bric-a-brac lined shelves beyond the windows, and a sign above the door read Times Remembered—Fine Antiques and Collectibles.
“Would you like to see it?” she asked softly. And though he really should have been beginning the search for this new drug, Zach found himself nodding. A few more minutes wouldn’t matter.
“Yes,” he said. “I’d like that very much.”
The smile that touched her lips, and the light in her eyes, told Zach that this little enterprise meant something to her. And that she was proud of it. She led him through the front doors, and Zach didn’t recognize the place. The entire building had been converted, partitions knocked down. It was one large room now, with a long counter across the back side, and rows of shelves everywhere else. The shelves were lined with too many items to name. Canisters, dishes, knickknacks, music boxes. There was an entire section of books, another with artwork. And a large corner had been left open, for several pieces of furniture that had been cleaned and polished until they shone. An oak rocking chair. A sewing machine. A pedestal table.
Each item in the shop had a price tag dangling from it. And on the counter in the back sat a large black cash register that had obviously come from his time, as well. Zach doubted he’d recognize its modern-day counterpart.
“I’m impressed, to say the least, Jane. A woman setting up and running her own business. Owning her own home and automobile. Raising her son alone.”
She waved a dismissive hand at him. “Don’t be impressed until I make enough money to expand.”
“Are you…having financial problems, then?”
She smiled at him. “Zach, my family is one of the wealthiest in the country. I have trust funds and interest-bearing accounts enough to buy the moon.”
Zach tilted his head. “I don’t understand. Why—”
“Growing up in Minneapol
is, I lived in my father’s mansion. Servants at my beck and call. More clothes than I could wear in a year. Cars and private schools and money, money, money.”
“And?”
“And I hated it. Zach, Fortune Cosmetics is a monster. My family think they’re running the business, but the truth is, it’s running them. My father is so jealous of my uncle Jake that they can barely speak without an argument. And they’re brothers. My mother…all she cares about is money and scheming to get more of it. I just didn’t want any part of that. Not for me, and especially not for Cody.”
She shrugged and paced toward him, eyes dreamily scanning the aisles of her shop. “I’ve always been the old-fashioned one. My grandmother…she knew that about me. More than I ever realized. When she died, she left me this place. So I left home to come out here and try to find a simpler life.” She looked up at him, and smiled fully. “And instead, I got a time-traveling inventor.”
“Not exactly simple,” Zach said. “I find it amusing, Jane, that you see yourself as an old-fashioned woman. To me you seem the opposite. Strong. Independent. A freethinker. Everything I always…” he stopped himself from finishing when he realized he was going to say “wanted.” “Everything I always thought of as modern,” he said instead. It was true, what he’d been thinking, he confirmed, a bit surprised. Oh, yes, he’d had his share of women since Claudia had broken his naive young heart. But all the while, he’d scoffed at their docile ways and insipid giggles. Their meek manners and false shyness. Their constant quest for wealthy husbands. Deep inside, he’d secretly wished for a modern woman. One who had her own opinions and lived as no man’s servant. Not a fainting, timid, helpless child, but a woman like…a woman like Jane Fortune.
Not that he wanted any woman bound to him. Not even one like this. No, he’d learned his lessons too well for that. But just to know one. Just to be with her…
“Maybe I’m modern from a nineteenth-century point of view, Zach,” she said. “But to a twentieth-century mind, I’m the one stuck in a time warp.”
A Husband in Time Page 6