A Husband in Time

by Maggie Shayne

  Meanwhile, Zach tinkered with the device itself. All her information would be utterly useless unless he could repair the damage and make the thing operable. He’d already figured out how to get to the exact point in time where Cody had gone. According to the figures he’d keyed into Cody’s computer machine, with two days’ worth of recharged power, Cody would have gone back to one day before Zach left the past. He and Jane would try to go back that far, as well, though there might be complications to doing so. He’d worry about that when the time came. He didn’t want to allow time for anything to happen to Cody.

  He set his mess aside and again scrolled the information he and Cody had spent hours keying into the boy’s computer, but wound up sighing in frustration.

  Bedsprings creaked, and in a second Jane’s hands closed on his shoulders and began massaging him. It startled him that she’d be so kind to him, despite their being of opposing points of view in this crisis. It also confused him. Mainly because her touch brought desire for her rushing back into his loins, and because she smelled so damned good.

  “We’ve been at it for hours,” she said. “Time for a short break.”

  Her voice was hoarse from all the crying she’d done earlier, and Zach experienced another stab of concern for her. She was half out of her mind with worry for her son. He knew. God, how well he knew. Her thumbs pressed into the backs of his shoulders while her fingers kneaded and rubbed the front. He arched his back, closed his eyes. What she was doing felt wonderful.

  “It’s not the time bending over the worktable that’s getting me,” he told her as he let his head drop forward. “I’m used to that. It’s the frustration.”

  Her hands stilled. Crying shame, that.

  “Then you aren’t getting anywhere?”

  “Actually, I am. But I know I’d be getting there a lot faster if I were making the most of this…computer of Cody’s.” He shook his head, frowning at the screen. “I considered myself a genius in my own time,” he said. “Now I feel like an ignorant fool.”

  Her hands began working their magic once more. “You’re no fool, Zach.”

  “No? Even a small child knows more about science today than I. I’m baffled by your televisions and microwaves and aeroplanes. By today’s standards, Jane, I’m not fit to graduate primary school.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing,” she said, working up and down the back of his neck, and making him curious as to what other magic her hands could perform.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Not even the most accomplished physicist has managed to travel through time, Zach. Not with the help of high-powered computers, or even data gathered from outer space. Yet you did, with tools considered primitive by our standards. You did what they all still believe is impossible.”

  He turned to look up at her. “I did, at that, didn’t I?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Which is why I know you’re going to find a solution to this disaster.” Her eyes were deadly serious. “You have to, Zach. I’m counting on it.”

  He lowered his eyes. God, but he didn’t want to let her down. Having a woman counting on him, believing in him, for any reason, was such an unusual feeling that he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

  “Those circles under your eyes are coming back,” she told him. “Look, I’m as eager as you are to solve this thing, but I think you’ll work better if you rest for a few minutes. Get something to eat. I think we should stop for a sandwich, and a few minutes to rest our eyes.”

  He managed to conjure up a gentle smile, and he stroked her hair, something he was growing ridiculously fond of doing. “We’re going to get your Cody back, Jane. I promise.”

  She tried to avert her face before he saw her tears, but didn’t quite succeed. He was too astute, or perhaps just too focused on every aspect of her, to miss one so vital. “You must think I’m the most selfish person alive. I was so against all of this when it suited me. And now I’m…”

  He surged to his feet, capturing her pretty face between his palms, caressing it with his eyes. “Now you’re a mother, Jane. And like any mother, you’ll do whatever it takes to protect your child. I don’t find that selfish at all…. In fact, it…”

  Shaking her head slowly, she whispered, “It what?”

  Zach dipped his head, unable to look into her eyes just then. But when he brought his gaze level, he found himself drowning in hers all over again. “It makes you even more beautiful to me, Jane. And no, don’t accuse me of using what you refer to as a line. It’s true, and every bit as unbelievable to me as it probably seems to you. I’ve never in my life noticed much about any woman, aside from the way she filled out her bloomers. But with you…” He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t even know how, really.

  She searched his face. “I hope to God Cody is all right.”

  “Cody is nothing less than brilliant. With his wit, he’ll manage just fine until we get to him.”

  She nodded. “I know he will.”

  “So, how about some sandwiches?”

  For some reason she couldn’t have named, Jane believed every word that smooth-talking ladies’ man Zachariah Bolton said. He told her everything would be all right, and heaven help her, she accepted it as gospel. Had she lost her mind?

  No. No, that wasn’t it at all, she thought as she made a pair of sandwiches and laid them on paper plates. She believed the man because she was fairly certain there wasn’t much he set his mind to doing that didn’t get done.

  That thought niggled at her a little, because it seemed Zach had also set his mind to sweet-talking his way into her heart. Intentionally or not, that was what he was chipping away at, and had been since the day he stepped out of time and into her life. He was…he was mischievous and brilliant, and sexy, and she could fall for him fast and hard. Seemed she hadn’t learned as much from the past as she thought she had. Keeping her heart immune to the considerable charms of Zachariah Bolton was a matter of self-preservation. He’d be leaving soon. Very soon. She’d find a way to bring Cody back here, and he’d return to the past and try to cure his own son. And that was where he would stay. In the past. Jane couldn’t afford to go forming any attachments to Zach.

  But she did have utmost confidence in his ability to pull this off. He’d travelled a hundred years forward in time, she told herself. It stood to reason that he could do just about anything. Rescuing one little boy wouldn’t be all that much harder.

  Two little boys, she corrected herself with a pang of guilt. Two. Cody, and Benjamin. His son. She’d thought she understood what drove him before, and she’d thought her own practical point of view was the correct one. Now she knew she’d have done the same thing if she was in his shoes and she had the means. Nature couldn’t be completely overpowered. Any parent alive would damn the world to save his or her own child. It was simply the way it was.

  She opened the cupboard, saw Cody’s New York Giants mug, felt her knees try to buckle. But she stiffened them by sheer force of will, blinked her eyes dry. She’d have her Cody back.

  Something warm brushed her leg, and she glanced down to see the stray cat, rubbing against her. “I suppose you might as well stay,” she said, reaching down to scratch its ears. “You’ll be a nice surprise for Cody, when he gets back.” She straightened, frowning. Then returned to the cupboards for a couple of cans of tuna and a pair of bowls. She emptied the fish into one bowl and filled the other with water, placing both on the floor. “Just in case I have to leave,” she said, stroking the feline’s head as it dove into the food with relish.

  She opened the back door just slightly, so the cat could get out should the need arise.

  “Jane!” Zach bellowed from upstairs. “I have something!”

  Gripping a plate in each hand, Jane raced for the stairs.

  She half expected to see a wormhole straight out of a science-fiction film hovering in the air in the center of the room. What she saw instead, as she burst through the bedroom door, was Zach bending over the computer,
peering through his specs at the screen.

  “What is it?” she said, crossing the room and setting one of the plates on the desk in front of him.

  “The side effects. I’m almost certain Cody won’t suffer from them. Look at this.” He pointed at the screen. “I hadn’t completed my testing when I came through. Mainly because…I was running out of time. But I had done some, and Cody and I transferred all of the data to this machine. This program he…uh…downfed—”

  “Downloaded,” Jane corrected him.

  “It’s amazing. It finds correlations I wouldn’t even have thought to look for.”

  “Break it down for me, Zach. Cut to the chase.”

  He frowned up at her, but went on. “To put it simply, Jane, the larger the object, the greater the side effects. I suffered pronounced ill effects, but Cody is a lot smaller than I am. If these calculations are correct, then it stands to reason—”

  “He isn’t sick.”

  “No. No, I don’t think he is.”

  Jane closed her eyes as every muscle in her body seemed to uncoil in relief. “If he isn’t sick, then he’ll be fine until we get to him. I know he will.”

  Zach nodded, but she noticed that his smile was less than sincere. Sadness and worry clouded his eyes. “You’re thinking you wish you could be so certain about Benjamin, aren’t you?”

  “Are you a mind reader, Jane?”

  She pushed his plate closer to him, then gently reached up to remove the glasses from his face. “Eat, Zach. Rest your eyes. And tell me about your Benjamin.”

  He closed his eyes. “If I lose him…”

  Her hand cupped his cheek. “You’re not going to lose him,” she said, repeating his earlier reassuring words to him, almost verbatim. “I promise.”

  Zach covered her hand with his own and drew it around to his mouth, so that he could press his lips to her palm. “You’re a treasure, Jane Fortune.”

  “Eat,” she said.

  So he did.

  Eight

  Cody hid out in a sagging, creaking barn a few miles down the road from his house…er, Zach’s house. Whatever. He wasn’t sure what had happened to the barn, but he knew it was no longer standing in 1997. And it didn’t surprise him. The way the building leaned to one side and drooped in the middle, and the amount of wind managing to find its groaning way through the cracks, were enough to tell him the thing wasn’t exactly new, even now. It wasn’t ready to fall down around him or anything—he hoped—but the barn was old. And if it was old now, in 1897, then it must be really old. Maybe even as old as the Revolutionary War. Imagine that!

  He didn’t have as much time to think about the wonder of it as he would have liked. Later, he told himself. For now, he had something even more important to think about.

  The bottle of pills in his pocket jiggled every time he moved, and Cody bit his lip as the sound reminded him sharply of the responsibility he’d taken on. It was a heavy burden weighing on him. But one he wouldn’t turn away from. He’d come here to help Benjamin. It was up to him, and only him, to save that little guy’s life. And now he couldn’t do it, because of those crabby scientists at the house. Was he going to let that stop him? Well, if he did, then the boy he’d already begun to think of as the closest thing to a little brother he would ever have was going to die. Maybe he’d die soon. Maybe he was dying right now.

  Cody knew that he was putting his own life at risk by trying to save Benjamin. But he didn’t have a doubt that he’d be all right, somehow. Mom was always saying that kids his age believe themselves to be immortal. Maybe she was right. All Cody knew for sure was that helping Ben was the right thing to do. Ben even had the same name as Cody’s great grandfather. If that wasn’t a sign that he was meant to be part of Cody’s family, then he didn’t know what was. Benjamin Bolton was going to be Cody’s brother. He knew that beyond any doubt, though it made no sense to feel this strongly about it. It wasn’t logical or scientific. It was just there, a gut-deep certainty that he couldn’t convince himself to doubt. He had to help Benjamin. But how?

  Cody closed his eyes and bit his lip. “Mom, what should I do? What should I do?” he whispered into the darkness.

  Be smart, Cody. Use your head.

  Cody’s eyes flashed open, and he looked around him, half expecting to see his pretty mom standing nearby. She wasn’t, of course. He was all alone in a big, empty, dark barn, with nothing but the groaning and whistling of the wind in his ears, its cold caress reaching in to chill him through all those cracks, and the musty, sour smell of old hay. Only…he didn’t feel quite as all alone as he had before.

  It was supposed to have been a brief five-minute rest. When Jane consented to lean back against the headboard, and Zach settled down next to her, barely able to keep his eyes opened, they’d agreed to a quick, short break. Then right back to work. He didn’t know when her eyes had fallen closed or how she could have managed to fall asleep at all, as worried as she was about her son. But she had. She’d drifted off as he was talking through his theory about why he was able to move through time. Boring to her, he supposed. If it had occurred to him that he could bore her into getting a bit of rest, he’d have attempted it sooner. The poor woman was on the verge of collapse, her exhaustion more emotional than physical, he knew. And now, though he ought to be working on the device, he simply didn’t have the heart to wake her. And if he moved at all, he’d probably do just that. Because timid Jane Fortune was virtually twined around him. A situation he’d fantasized about several times since making the lady’s acquaintance, but made come true only once. And once, Zach mused, fell a great deal short of being enough.

  He let his eyes roam her relaxed face. A hundred times wouldn’t be enough, he realized with a shiver of alarm tickling up his spine. Now what was it about her that made her so attractive to him, that drew him like the lure of the sirens? If only things were different. If only he had the time to find out.

  She’d slid lower in the bed, until her head rested in the crook of his neck. Her arms had crept around his waist, and one leg, bent at the knee, held his thigh captive beneath it.

  The entire situation worried Zach. Because he wasn’t responding the way he normally would. He wasn’t sitting here devising seemingly innocent methods of touching her. Or of arousing her enough in her sleep to leave her pliant and willing when she awoke. Though his skills at both tricks were up to the challenge, he felt oddly reluctant to use them. Instead, he found himself content to simply hold her, look at her. Smell her. Feel her warmth seeping into him wherever she touched him. And know that she was getting some much-needed relief from the horror of the nightmare they seemed to be trapped within, together.

  He tilted his head as he considered that. Here, wrapped in his arms—in a bed, no less—was a woman he wanted. Quite possibly—no, most certainly—more than he’d ever wanted another. And here he was doing nothing to capitalize on the predicament. It was damned unlike him. Yes, the situation was dire, but he’d never been one to let that interfere before. A bit of physical exertion would do his stress level a world of good, he thought rather sardonically.

  Moving very slowly and carefully, he reached for the device, and the screwdriver, and his notes, spreading all of them upon the bed, where they wouldn’t interfere with her rest. He grabbed for his spectacles lastly, and perched them on his nose. And then he began to work, reattaching the broken bits to the device, one by one.

  Jane sighed, and shifted lower. Her head slipped down to his lap, her hand settling on his hip. Zach pulled his spectacles down onto his nose and peered over the tops of them at her, curled up and sleeping peacefully there, facedown in his… Lord have mercy. If his reaction to that didn’t wake her, he didn’t think anything would.

  Something hard was pressing into her cheek. Jane grumbled in her sleep, doubling up her fist to punch the lump out of her pillow and refusing to open her eyes. A hand closed over hers before she could carry out the plan. “Uh-uh, none of that.”

  “Hmm?” She ope
ned her eyes, lifted her head a little and saw what she’d been lying on. Her eyes widened, and she looked up fast, into a pair of twinkling dark brown eyes. “Zach.”

  “What? You’re the one with your face nestled in my…” He let his eyes finish the sentence for him. Then reached out to stroke a gentle hand over her hair, and there was something besides lust in his eyes. Something that made her stomach turn over. “You’ll never know how much I wish I had more time, Jane. You’ll never, never know….”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that. So she said nothing. Just held his eyes with hers, and wished she could see what he was thinking. Wished… But wait. What did he mean? He sounded as if… Her gaze darted to the device on the bed beside him.

  “Zach?”

  He nodded, and picked up the black box. “Look at this,” he whispered. He pointed the thing, pressed a button, and the tiny pinprick of light appeared in the center of the bedroom.

  “My God,” she whispered, her heart leaping in her chest. “My God, it’s working. You fixed it.”

  “I think so.”

  “What do you mean, you think so?” She sat up, got to her feet and took a step closer to the light. “You’re not sure?”

  “No, I’m not at all sure.”

  “Then—”

  “Wait.” He adjusted the dial, and the light grew larger, brighter. Zach got up, gripped her arm and pulled her away as the sphere of illumination took up more and more space in the room. When it extended beyond the ceiling, and through the floor, the light began to take on distinctive shades, and forms hovered on the other side of a swirling mist. The sphere became a mirror, reflecting the room back at them, minus the modern furniture and new wallpaper and electric fixtures. It was the same room, a hundred years ago.

  “Look,” Zach whispered. “The calendar, there on the wall.”

  He pointed, and Jane saw the page, with each date methodically crossed off as it passed. “I believe we’ve done it. We’ve found the doorway to the exact day before I left. And I’m certain this is where Cody came through.”