Yesterday's Magic

by Beverly Long

  “What?” she asked.

  “Oh, hell,” he said. He took off his hat, set it on one of the display tables, and covered the distance between them in four long strides. With his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her into his body and bent his head. His kiss was hard, deliberate, and when she parted her lips, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to put his tongue in her mouth. He tasted like coffee and cinnamon-toasted bread and she was greedy for him.

  A pleasure, so intense, so fierce, burst through her. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want this. Her breasts tingled and a straight line of pleasure shot from around her belly button to points well south. She shifted, moving ever so slightly, but ever so necessarily so that his thigh was pressed hard against her.

  He moaned in response, a low deep sound of need that she captured. In one smooth motion, he moved his hands from her shoulders to her butt, bringing her even tighter into his body, all the while continuing to consume her.

  She eased her own arms around his back, pressing her breasts into his broad, solid chest. His body was lean and strong and she was suddenly desperate to feel his skin. She pushed her hand underneath his vest and pulled at his shirt until it was freed from his pants. She slipped her hand inside the soft material and laid the palm of her hand against the small of his back.

  His skin was hot. And damp. Blood pumped in her veins, making her forget about everything but the need to kiss and to be kissed.

  She heard a noise and felt a blast of cold air. Jed jerked away so fast that if she hadn’t been pretty quick herself, and yanked her hand out from underneath his shirt, he might have pulled it off at the wrist.

  Mrs. Bean, with Constance at her side, stood in the doorway. Both women looked as if they’d swallowed something very sour. “Well, I never…” Mrs. Bean said, sounding practically breathless with shock.

  Probably not. Bella watched Jed walked over, pick up his hat, and put it on. He tipped the brim toward the two women, managing to look almost collected.

  Almost. Bella was close enough to see that his hand was shaking.

  “Morning, Ladies,” he said.

  “Sheriff.” Mrs. Bean turned slightly, so that Bella received the full brunt of her stare. “Mrs. Wainwright.”

  The woman’s deliberate emphasis on Mrs. wasn’t lost on Bella. She looked at Jed, wondering if he’d caught the slam. She was startled to see that his face had lost its color and his eyes were blank. When he shifted awkwardly, she could tell that he was about to bolt for the door.

  “Jed?” she said, her voice quiet. Come on, the woman is a tight ass.

  “I need to be going,” he said. He didn’t even look at her.

  Her body, which just minutes before had been pulsing with sensation, now felt numb.

  He walked toward the door, squeezing past Mrs. Bean. Constance’s eyes followed him. The door opened and shut without him ever looking back.

  Bella felt like the elevator door had opened, she’d stepped inside, only there’d been no elevator there. She was free-falling, gaining speed, hurtling toward some unknown disaster.

  What the hell was his problem?

  “Where’s your aunt?” Mrs. Bean asked.

  “Uh…she’s not here. May I help you find something?” Bella managed to ask.

  Mrs. Bean shook her head. “Never mind. We’ll find it ourselves,” she said, her tone prim.

  No problem. Bella leaned back against the counter. She could use a minute or two to recover some strength. It dawned on her that she was so screwed. There was no way she’d ever be happy kissing an ordinary man again.

  She’d heard the speculation that there were men who could literally make a woman melt with a mere kiss. She’d read books where it had happened, but based on her experience, she’d figured that was an author taking literary license.

  She was going to go back to her time ruined.

  His hand had trembled. It hadn’t been all one sided. She thought maybe she’d about knocked his socks off, too.

  Power to the lady with the stupid shoes.

  But the way he’d run, it was almost as if he’d expected her to lace up her stupid shoes and start to chase him, to run him down, like a pack of Saturday shoppers lusting after knock-off purses.

  When she saw Jedidiah McNeil again, he better be prepared. He’d stuck his tongue down her throat and made parts tingle and twitch and almost beg to be stroked, and then cut and run. Nobody played her that way. Nobody.

  Well, he wouldn’t get another chance. She’d be smarter the next time. Note to self. Next time he gives you the look that makes you want to tear off your clothes and rub up against a pole like a cat in heat, turn the other direction. Just walk away.

  She looked around the store. Aunt Freida was crazy to think that she could run the place. It would have been one thing if the place was organized. But this was pure chaos. She couldn’t do it.

  But if not her, then who?

  It was that sobering thought that had her looking up just in time to see Constance slip a ribbon into her coat pocket.

  Damn. The girl was multi-talented. She was a companion and a shoplifter. She wondered if Mrs. Bean realized.

  She considered walking over and pulling the pilfered merchandise out of Constance’s pocket but when the door opened and another customer came in, she decided to let it go. However, she did make a point of catching the young woman’s eye and then deliberately staring at the woman’s pocket.

  Constance’s already pale face seemed to get a bit whiter and a little squeak eked out. Mrs. Bean turned to stare at her. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “It’s a little warm,” Constance replied, pulling at the collar of her heavy coat.

  “Very well.” Mrs. Bean turned toward the door with Constance on her heels. She had her hand on the doorknob when she turned and looked over her shoulder. “Mrs. Wainwright,” she said, “a little advice, if you will. You may want to watch yourself with the Sheriff.”

  Yes, well you may want to watch Constance—especially around your jewelry. Bella gritted her teeth. “Why’s that, Mrs. Bean?”

  “We widows can’t be too careful,” Mrs. Bean said. “I knew his father and I’m not sure the apple fell very far from the tree.”

  She turned around and left. The new customer, a man, looked at Bella, his eyes full of questions. Too bad. She didn’t have any answers.

  Bella walked up, pointed at what appeared to be a carefully prepared list that he carried in his hand, and said, “Good morning. What can I help you find?”

  “Where’s Freida?” the man asked, his tone suspicious.

  Bella debated telling him that it wasn’t any of his business but she’d already figured out that wasn’t how things worked in 1877. “She broke her leg. I’m her niece, Bella, and I’ll be watching the store for a few days.”

  “Her leg, huh? That’s too bad. Hope she does better than Bessy Forth did.”

  “Bessy Forth?”

  “Robert Forth’s wife. She broke her leg and it got infected. She lived another three days. I heard tell it had spread through her body, all the way to her heart.”

  The man was making her own heart hurt. Bella felt powerless. And for a witch, even a half-witch, that wasn’t a familiar feeling.

  But she had to admit that even if she had her magic, it wouldn’t do her any good now. Good magic had its limits. Her father hadn’t been able to save her mother’s life and she wouldn’t be able to help Freida.

  The man seemed oblivious to the panic he was causing. “Give Freida my best,” he said. “Now, I’d be right grateful if you could help me with the items on this list. My wife generally comes along but she’s sitting with a neighbor’s wife while she’s laboring with her seventh child.”

  And she thought she was having a bad day. She reached for the man’s list. “Let’s do it.” She said it with significantly more confidence than she felt.

  By noon, she’d helped that man and eight other customers. She’d failed to locate canned
onions, which one woman had sworn that Freida always carried in her store, and she’d sold out of gloves and baking powder and didn’t have a clue how to go about getting more, but other than that, it had gone surprisingly well.

  She was just about to tackle the jumble of receipts in the middle drawer when Delilah from the saloon walked in. Her long orange-red hair was braided and wrapped around her head like a crown. She didn’t have any make-up on and she had something balanced on the palm of her right hand. Bella couldn’t tell what it was because it had a big red checkered cloth over it.

  “Hi,” Bella said.

  “I came to look at those ribbons you told me about,” Delilah said.

  “Of course.” Bella started to cross the room.

  Delilah extended her right arm. “I heard about your aunt’s accident. I thought you might appreciate having something to eat since you’re minding the store.”

  She hadn’t even thought about eating but now that she’d caught a whiff of food, her stomach growled as if on cue. She pressed a hand against her middle. “That’s really nice of you,” she said. “But let me show you the ribbons first.”

  Delilah set the plate down on the counter and removed the cloth. Steam rose from the dish. “I can find the ribbons on my own. You go ahead and eat. Snake makes a great beef stew and he’ll be disappointed if you don’t eat it when it’s hot.”

  Bella picked up the fork that Delilah had placed on the edge of the plate. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint anybody named Snake. Is that his real name?”

  Delilah smiled. “It’s what I’ve always heard him called. Rumor is that he stuck his hand into a hole, not realizing it was home to a rattler. Most men would have died within the hour. Snake lived to tell about it. He’s a sweetheart of a man. He owns the saloon and he cooks all the meals for the rest of us who work there. He really watches out for us girls and if anybody gets out of line, Snake takes care of it.

  Where the hell had Snake been the night Rantaan Toomay wrecked havoc? “How long have you worked at the saloon?” Bella asked.

  “I guess going on three years.” Delilah picked up a green ribbon that was trimmed in gold. She ran her hand across the fabric. “I came here when I was fifteen.”

  Oh my God. That meant she was eighteen. Bella would have guessed her at least ten years older. “Did you grow up around here?”

  “No. I was raised in Iowa. My momma and poppa got sick and died three days before my fifteenth birthday. I was on my way to go and live with my aunt in Denver but I got this far and decided to stay.”

  “Your aunt never came to find you?”

  “No. She was probably relieved. She had ten children of her own.”

  Okay. So exactly what was so good about the good old days? Dying young? Lack of birth control? Aging non-gracefully? “I’m sorry,” Bella said.

  Delilah shrugged. “There are lots that have it worse.” She said it with more optimism than an eighteen-year-old prostitute, who had little hope of next year being any different than this year, should have. Bella understood why her father had seen something in Delilah—had seen an innocence that life had not been able to squelch.

  Bella ate while Delilah sorted through the various ribbons and pieces of lace. After she’d decided on several, Bella added up the prices, took her money, and didn’t mention that she’d given her a twenty percent discount. Somehow she just knew her aunt would approve.

  Within minutes of Delilah leaving, the door opened again and Dr. Winder stepped inside. His eyes were red and his mouth set in a straight line. Bella’s heart lurched and she braced her hands on the counter. “Aunt Freida?” she asked.

  The doctor’s head jerked up and he looked up in a rather distracted manner. Suddenly he smiled. “She’s fine,” he said, his tone reassuring.

  Bella let out a breath. She knew it was crazy since she’d only met the woman two days earlier and they obviously weren’t really family, but she cared about Freida. “I got scared,” she admitted to the doctor. “You looked so serious when you came in.”

  “I’m sorry, Bella.” The doctor took off his gloves and shoved them into the pockets of his black coat. “I just left Maude Thurguson’s house. I’d had to give her bad news about Whiskey.”

  “Her husband?” Bella asked, trying to piece together the story.

  “Oh, no. She’s been a widow for going on ten years. Whiskey is her dog. His lungs are bad and that’s making his heart work too hard.”

  “Her dog?” Bella repeated. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her aunt’s doctor was also the town veterinarian?

  Dr. Winder smiled. “Your aunt told me you were from Ohio. Perhaps back there, doctors aren’t occasionally called to administer aid to a four-legged-friend. Maude doesn’t have anybody else. I do what I can for and her dog.”

  It was sort of sweet. “As long as you’re washing your hands between patients,” she teased. However, when the good doctor only looked confused, it wasn’t a bit endearing.

  She really hoped she didn’t get sick while she was here. “What time should I pick up my aunt?”

  “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk about with you. Best I can tell is that your aunt broke her leg in two places. I’ve set it and splinted it, but it’ll be the middle of December before she’s able to get around much.”

  Middle of December. That wasn’t going to work. “But I’m only here for a couple more days,” she said.

  The doctor smiled at her. “Surely you can extend your stay by a couple weeks.”

  No. Her father’s magic had gotten her here and it would get her back to her own time. Assuming that she didn’t screw up the exit that she and her father had so finely choreographed. If she wasn’t in the right spot the evening of December fifth, it could be a big problem. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  Dr. Winder shrugged. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, I’m not worried about the evenings when you’ll be home to assist her, but she’s going to need someone with her during the day as well. I thought perhaps Elizabeth, Jedidiah’s sister, might be able to assist. If not her, I understand the Bean brothers have their mother staying with them right now. Perhaps she’d be willing.”

  Bella figured Aunt Freida would rather give birth to a full grown horse than have Mrs. Bean have to help her with anything, especially if that anything was of a personal nature. “I think Elizabeth is a great choice. Maybe we could start there.”

  “I will speak to Jedidiah about it,” Dr. Winder said. He tugged the collar of his coat tighter around his neck and opened the door. He looked over his shoulder. “There’s snow coming, Bella. Close up early this afternoon. Then you can come by and get Freida and still be home before dark.”

  Bella nodded and he left. She opened the drawer and began sorting receipts but before she got further than the first couple, the door opened again and two women entered. Three hours later, she realized the afternoon had flown by. She put the Closed sign on the door and she replicated what she’d seen Freida do the two previous nights. She pulled the money out of the drawer, put it in an empty tin can, and shoved it behind several bags of flour. Then she swept the floor and extinguished the fire in the big black stove.

  She’d somehow managed to keep the thing lit all day and the store had been fairly warm. She only hoped she could figure out the right combination of wood and newspaper to get it to light from scratch. Otherwise, she’d spend the day waiting on customers wearing her gloves and cloak.

  She doubled-checked the back door, then left by the front door. She pulled it shut, checked to make sure it had locked, and pulled the collar of her cloak tighter. Dr. Winder had been right. The snow had arrived. It was falling steadily and there was already a fresh inch or so on top of the two or three inches that they’d gotten two days earlier.

  It had been cold when she’d run for the doctor early this morning but now that the sun was low in the sky, it seemed even colder.

  She’d taken three steps when she heard her
name.

  “Bella.”

  She whirled. She saw the horses first and realized they belonged to Aunt Freida. The wagon was there. Next to it was Jed, sitting on his horse.

  He put two fingers to the brim of his cowboy hat and nodded in her direction. “I took the liberty of having Wymer bring your rig over.”

  His delivery was stiff, formal. It made her remember how she’d felt earlier—sort of stiff and brittle--after he’d left the store without even so much as a glance in her direction.

  “Thank you,” she said. She tried for impersonal. She thought she managed constipated. She walked up to the horses, patted each one of the forehead, leaned between them, and softly said, “Cooperate. Please. I’ve already looked like a fool in front of him once today.”

  She looked up and realized that he’d gotten off his horse and now stood next to the wagon. He offered his hand to help her up.

  She stared at it.

  “I think I can manage,” she said. She hiked her skirt up, grabbed on to the wagon with both hands, and pulled herself up. Then she sat down and looked down at him.

  “Good night,” she said. She took up the reins and clicked her tongue the way she’d heard Aunt Freida do. The horses, being the good natured souls they were, started walking.

  She felt pretty confident until she realized that Jed’s horse was following them. She pulled on the reins, stopping her wagon. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I suspect you’ll need some help getting Freida inside the cabin.”

  He said it like he wasn’t too happy about it. His position on his big horse gave him a height advantage and he used it now to look down at her. “Doc tells me you’re not planning on sticking around to help Freida.”

  So that was it. Mr. Responsibility thought she wasn’t taking responsibility for her own. Well, she sure as hell didn’t owe him any explanations. “That’s right. I can stay for a couple more days but that’s it.”

  He studied her. “If it’s about what happened in the store, I mean, if you’re troubled that it might happen again, I can assure you that you don’t have any cause to worry.”

  It was the longest sentence she’d heard him say. Once she got past that, she realized he was seriously concerned that he’d been so improper that her only recourse was to run. If he only knew. If the two of them hadn’t been interrupted, she’d have pushed him into the back room, gotten him naked, and discovered how good of shot he really was.