A Husband in Time

by Maggie Shayne

  “A flashlight,” Cody explained, handing his treasure over without hesitation. At least now Ben wasn’t lying there listening to that thunderstorm outside and shaking like a leaf.

  “How does it work?”

  “Electricity,” Cody said. “The power is generated by a little battery inside. When it gets light enough out, I’ll show you.”

  “You will?”

  “Sure. You can even take it apart, if you want.”

  Ben smiled broadly for the first time. The flashlight’s small glow illuminated his face and his missing front teeth. The pony, who had been munching peacefully on some of their bed, lifted his head and blew through his nostrils.

  “Pete’s scared of it,” Ben said. He played around until he’d switched the light off.

  “It’s best we don’t waste the battery, anyway,” Cody told him. “Save it for when we need it.”

  Ben settled back under the blanket, holding the flashlight to his chest, as if it were a diamond or something.

  “Yeah, you’d better get some sleep now.”

  Thunder crashed, so loud it sounded as if it were in the barn with them. Ben’s hand shot out and closed on Cody’s arm. “You…won’t leave me, will you, Cody?”

  “No way,” Cody said. “I’m not going anywhere. You know something, Ben? All my life I’ve been wishing I had a little brother.”

  “You have?” Ben’s voice sounded sleepy, and his grip on Cody’s arm relaxed a little, but he didn’t let go. “That’s funny.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause I’ve been wishing I had a big brother.” Ben rolled onto his side. “Do you have a pocketknife on you, Cody?”

  Cody did, but he had a pretty good idea what Ben was thinking, so he didn’t say so. “Why?”

  “Well, some of the kids, they cut their fingers, and rub them together, and swear an oath, and then they’re blood brothers.”

  “That’s what I thought you meant,” Cody said, and he chewed his lip, thinking hard. He didn’t think it was a very good idea for a kid as sick as Ben was to be cutting himself with a germy old jackknife. “They do that where I come from, too. But some of them do it differently.”

  “How?”

  “Why? You wanna be brothers, Ben?”

  Ben looked up at Cody in the darkness. “Yeah. I mean…I do if you do.”

  “Well, I just told you I’d always wanted a little brother, didn’t I?” He could see the white flash of Ben’s gap-toothed smile in the night. “So here’s how we do it. First, you spit on your palm,” Cody instructed. Ben did, and then Cody did the same. “Now we shake hands,” Cody said. They groped in the darkness for a moment, but then they connected, and Cody closed his hand tight around Ben’s. “And then we say the vow. I, Cody Fortune, do solemnly vow that from this day forward Benjamin Bolton is my very own little brother, and that we’ll stick together no matter what.” Cody said the words very seriously, making them up as he went along. “Now you say it, Benjamin.”

  Ben sat up a little. “I, Benjamin Bolton, do solemnly vow that…”

  Cody cued him. “From this day forward.”

  “From this day forward, Cody Fortune is my…my very own big brother. And that we’ll stick together…no matter what.”

  It sounded to Cody as if Ben were choking up a little at the end. And he’d never have admitted it to anyone in the world, but his own throat felt a little tight. “There,” he said. “That’s all there is to it. We’re real, true brothers.”

  “Honest?”

  “Honest. We swore an oath. That’s even more than natural-born brothers ever do.”

  Ben settled deeper into the hay, but he still held Cody’s hand. “And you won’t leave me?”

  “No way. Brothers have to stick together, no matter what, just like we said in the vow. Go to sleep now. I promise, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  “Thanks, Cody.”

  Ben was quiet after that. Soon Cody heard his raspy but steady breathing, and knew he’d fallen asleep. He put his hand into his pocket, closed it around the bottle of pills and squeezed hard. Grating his teeth and closing his eyes tight, he whispered, “You’d better work, you hear me? You’d just better make him well again.”

  The soggy searchers regrouped at the house. Water dripped from hat brims, and rain slickers glistened in the lamplight as the men filed inside for a cup of coffee and a bit of warmth from the fire. Hours of combing the woods and the ditches along the roadside, and even of canvassing the town, had turned up nothing. No clue as to where the boys might be. And then the storm had unleashed its fury, and the men had gradually worked their way back here, all of them grim-faced and soaked to the bone. None of them ready to give up.

  Zach’s face was bleak as he listened to one after another of the searchers tell him of their lack of progress. He was soaking-wet, too, and while Mrs. Haversham poured coffee from the metal pot on the cookstove and doled out a cup to each chilled volunteer, Jane took Zach’s arm and led him into the living room, urging him into a chair near the roaring fire.

  “Just take a minute,” she whispered, pressing a hot mug of the steaming brew into his chilled hands. “Here’s a dry coat. Come on—”

  “There’s no time for this,” he said, not meeting her eyes. His gaze was riveted to the leaping flames, his attention seemingly focused on the hiss and snap of resin in the hearth.

  “You won’t do Benjamin any good if you collapse in this rainstorm somewhere. It’s only a short break, Zach. Warm yourself, drink your coffee. Then we’ll go right back out.”

  He drew his gaze away from the flames then, locked it with hers. “By rights, you should be falling apart by now. I know full well you’re as afraid for Cody as I am for Ben.”

  “I’ll fall apart later, when they’re both safe.”

  His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “You’re not like any woman I’ve ever known, Jane Fortune. I know, I’m repeating myself. But I want you to believe it. I mean what I say. You’re different from the rest.”

  She lowered her head. “And you’ve known a lot of them, haven’t you?”

  “Dozens.”

  It hurt to hear him say it out loud, though she’d already known. And she had no idea why the thought of him with all those other women should bother her at all, but… Oh, who was she kidding? Of course she knew why it bothered her.

  “Why?” she heard herself ask.

  “Why what? Why do I take my pleasure wherever I wish? It’s simple, really. A physical need that I assuage when I can. Nothing complicated about it.”

  “But there are no feelings involved? Not with any of them?”

  “No. Not ever. Not until—”

  “What about…what about your wife? Benjamin’s mother?”

  He averted his face very quickly, fast enough that she knew she’d hit on something.

  “You loved her, didn’t you?”

  He cleared his throat. “Claudia, Benjamin’s mother, was never my wife.”

  Jane blinked in surprise, and then in disappointment. God, was he so much like Greg, then? That he’d got a woman pregnant and then…and then…

  “She had a husband. An old, impotent, very rich husband. I was young enough and foolish enough to be flattered by her attentions, and to believe she wanted more of me than a pleasant diversion.”

  Jane tilted her head. “Then…you did love her.”

  “I thought I did. But I was a flighty youth with more book learning than common sense. I had no money or social standing. She had plenty of both. I was no more than a romp to her. When she found herself with child, Christian woman that she was, she went abroad to visit an aunt, or so the story went. She gave birth with no one in her estimable social circle any the wiser. Even her husband had no clue. The child arrived on my doorstep with a note stating that she never wished to see me or hear from me again, and that if I was to breathe a word suggesting the child was hers, she’d see me ruined. She had enough power to make it a valid threat.”

  Whi
le there was bitterness in his voice, she saw the real hurt in his eyes. “She broke your heart, didn’t she, Zach?”

  He only shrugged. “It was a painful lesson, but a valuable one. She’s been widowed recently. Perhaps being alone will teach her something, as well.”

  “I don’t think she taught you a thing. You became what she was. You closed off your heart and made yourself into a person who’s only interested in meaningless flings with strangers.” Was that all she had been to him, she wondered? Just one more round of mutual satisfaction between two consenting adults? No, she knew better than to believe that. What had happened between the two of them wasn’t based on physical lust, but on emotional turmoil. Shared grief. They’d had no one to turn to except each other, and so they had.

  “At least I didn’t lock myself away from the world, the way you did, Jane.”

  “I thought I had,” she said softly, and she lifted her face to stare into his eyes and, somehow, swallowed the lump in her throat. “But you got in, all the same.”

  He blinked up at her, as if she’d shocked him speechless. Then he got to his feet, and set the cup down. His hands rose to settle on her shoulders. “Jane—”

  He stopped as the front door was flung open and a dripping-wet, raggedy-looking man stumbled through it. Beyond him, the dark clouds were churning with renewed vigor, as the already horrible storm steadily worsened.

  “I seen somethin’!” the man shouted as he swept back the hood of his raincoat. “An odd-lookin’ bit of light, in the old Thomas barn.”

  Zach went utterly rigid, eyes widening. “The old Thomas—” His head swung around, his eyes fixing on the pendulum clock ticking loudly on the mantel. It read 9:08 p.m. “No,” he whispered. “Any minute now, that barn is going to—”

  A blinding flash split the night, and Zach raced to the door, knocking the man aside as he moved out into the pouring rain. Jane rushed out beside him, and followed his gaze to the old barn, some three miles away. Even as she stared, the tiny tongues of flame began licking up at the black sky from the barn’s roof.

  “God, no…” Zach whispered.

  Jane’s calm was shattered. She could no longer hold the mask in place. Her piercing scream shattered the night, and she dropped to her knees in the pounding rain, heedless of the cold, or of the puddle in which she knelt. “Cody!” she sobbed. “God, don’t take my baby!”

  Ten

  Jane’s blood turned to ice when she realized that the barn in the distance was the same one Zach had told her about. According to Zach’s tale, it would burn to the ground within a frighteningly short period of time. As old and dried-out as the building’s wood had seemed when he pointed it out to her earlier, she could understand why. And right now, her son—and Zach’s—might very well be inside. Perhaps asleep. Unaware of the danger. Trapped, maybe.

  She could only stand in the pouring rain, watching helplessly, as Zach snatched the reins of his dripping-wet horse and leaped onto the startled animal’s back. He kicked the horse into a gallop, nearly running an approaching buggy off the narrow road as he passed it. Then he vanished into the blackness of the storm-tossed night.

  The buggy rocked to a halt and a woman clambered down, swinging her head around in the direction Zach had taken before hurrying up the steps to the stoop where Jane stood. She was nearly knocked back down them by the rush of searchers surging out of the house as they realized what was happening. Men raced to their horses, and the sound of pounding hooves as they galloped away rivaled the sound of the storm that enveloped them.

  “What’s going on?” the woman asked. And when Jane didn’t reply, she gripped her shoulders, shaking her slightly. The sounds of the horses galloping away slowly faded, until it joined with the howl of the wind and the unending rumble of the thunder. “I asked you what’s going on? The entire town is astir. They say the boy is missing, and—” She stopped there, closed her eyes and bit her lower lip.

  And for the first time, Jane looked at her. Her blond ringlets hung damply around her face from beneath the hood of the dark blue cloak she wore. She was beautiful. And she was very, very frightened right now. Frightened…and hiding it.

  “You’re her, aren’t you?” Jane whispered. “You’re the one….”

  The woman’s eyes widened, and her lips parted on a soft gasp. “I…I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. I’m simply a concerned neighbor.” Her gaze dipped, taking in Jane’s wet jeans and T-shirt. “And who in the world are you?”

  Jane shook her head. God, no wonder Zach had fallen for this beauty. She had the cheekbones of a goddess. Full, moist lips, and large green eyes that could swallow a person whole. Part of her resented the woman for hurting Zach and abandoning her own child. Another part was insanely jealous. This woman had held Zach’s heart in her hands. He’d loved her. Maybe…maybe, deep down inside, he still did. Jane had been trying not to think too deeply about her suspicions, but they flooded into her mind now. He’d loved her. She’d hurt him. He’d never allowed himself to love again. It stood to reason that that might very well be because he’d never gotten over her.

  Part of Jane wanted to tell this woman, this Claudia, what she thought of her. But the largest part of Jane was the mother in her. And that part of her knew and understood the fear in the other woman’s eyes. It was a mother’s fear for the life of her own child. Even if it was a child she’d never held, never wanted, perhaps never even loved…the biological bond was there, somewhere. Even one as weak as hers must be. It was the mother in Jane that reached out, took the woman’s gloved hand. “My son is missing, as well,” she said softly. “And we have reason to believe the two boys are in…in that barn.” With her free hand, she pointed, and the woman looked.

  “But…but it’s burning!”

  Jane choked on a sob, and averted her eyes. “I have to go to my son,” she said hoarsely. “Let me take your buggy.”

  The other woman nodded mutely, turning and starting down the steps beside Jane. “I’m coming with you,” she said, sounding dazed.

  Jane didn’t argue.

  Zach drove the horse relentlessly, digging his heels into the beast’s flanks even when he knew they were already running at top speed. The road had turned to muck, and still more rain pounded down, making it slick and deadly. Not enough rain to quench those flames, though. He wished he could get the image of that burning barn out of his mind. But he couldn’t. He’d stood in his son’s bedroom and watched as the flames devoured the entire structure, so quickly it seemed impossible. He knew how little time he had to reach Benjamin and Cody. He knew, and the knowing was killing him.

  The wind blew icy droplets that cut his face like razors. He could barely see the muddy road in front of him, and likely wouldn’t have seen it even in daylight. His gaze was riveted to that awful light in the distance. The flames spread rapidly across the roof of the structure, reaching to the heavens as if they’d devour the sky itself, and working lower, down the aged, tinder-dry boards. Great pieces of flaming debris fell through the darkness, only to land on the ground and begin licking their way up the sides of the building again.

  Zach thought of Benjamin inside. Perhaps just waking to the knowledge that the building was aflame. Perhaps still unaware. Soon he’d be trapped. Soon there would be no escape. Soon…

  No!

  Zach kicked the horse harder, leaning forward over the sleek, rain-wet neck and feeling the heat that rose from that black hide. “C’mon, Demon. Faster, dammit!”

  The horse stretched his legs, lunging even more rapidly than before. Mud and water splashed with every impact of those flying feet, soaking both Zach and the animal. Finally the barn loomed before them like a giant torch illuminating the night and cutting through the blackness of the storm. Rain pounded uselessly down, doing little more than adding a sizzle to the roar of the flames. The horse skidded to a halt and reared up, shrieking in terror. Zach was flung from the animal’s back to land hard in the mud. The impact jarred him, but he surged to his feet, headin
g for the blazing barn even as the horse turned and fled from the terrifying spectacle of it.

  Shielding his face with one arm, Zach went closer, until the heat seared his skin right through his clothes, and the roar overwhelmed every other sound. It was deafening. The flames were impassable walls, and he skirted them, circling the inferno as he sought an opening. A way in. There must be one. And at last, eyes stinging from the smoke, he found it. A gap in one side. Like a lopsided ring of fire from some dog-and-pony show. Without a second’s hesitation, Zach plunged through the opening, in a desperate dive. He landed rolling in the musty hay inside.

  The darkness was relieved only by occasional flashes of flame, springing to life as they found new fuel to feed them. The stench of burning wood and smouldering hay weighted the smoky air, so that it burned his lungs as he got to his feet. He was coughing before he’d gone three steps from the opening. Lifting the lapel of his jacket to his nose and mouth in an effort to filter the air, he shouted, “Boys! Where are you? Benjamin! Cody!”

  He could see nothing but thick, deadly smoke and occasional flashes of firelight. He could hear nothing but the roaring and snapping, which was like a living being. A monster intent on devouring them all. A sudden movement made him spin to the side. Then he was mowed down by Ben’s pony as it bolted past him in absolute panic. Zach’s head cracked against a beam as he went down, and one shod hoof slammed down on his shin as the frightened animal flew toward the opening. At least the poor thing was headed in the right direction. Gripping a beam to pull himself up again, Zach moved toward the area the pony had been coming from. His shouts and coughing all mingled together.

  And then he tripped and fell again. But this time, it was a body that caused him to stumble.

  When the buggy bounced to a halt in the mud near the barn, Jane cried out in anguish. She lunged from the seat, jumped to the soupy ground and raced forward, and only the firm hands of one of the searchers kept her from running headlong into the flames. “Easy, missy. Stand back now, and let the men handle this. We’re doin’ all we can.”