Yesterday's Magic

by Beverly Long

  “And what was that?”

  “I told her that we needed to keep quiet about what had happened, that there was no reason to be talking about it with others.”

  “Oh, Jedidiah.” Bart rocked back on his heels and shook his head. “For a smart man, you do some dumb things. No wonder she’s angry. She thinks you’re ashamed of being with her. That never sets well with a woman.”

  “I’m not ashamed.” He stood up and strode over to where his own coat and hat hung on a hook. He shoved his arms through and didn’t bother with the buttons. “It’s just nobody else’s business, that’s all.” He reached for the door.

  “So you’re just going to pretend that nothing is different?” Bart asked.

  Nothing really was different. It had been one night. She’d be back in Ohio soon and probably wouldn’t even remember her time in Mantosa.

  And someday, if he was lucky, he’d be able to forget about Bella and how she’d looked stretched across his rug, the fire lighting up the curves of her lovely skin, her generous breasts.

  Jed jammed his hat on his head. He didn’t bother turning around. “What I’m going to do, is do the job I get paid for. I suggest you think about doing the same.”

  He slammed the door behind him and headed off to meet the noon stage. He was barely halfway there when it pulled into town. He checked his watch. Since the new driver had come on the route, the stage had been consistently late. Today it was almost ten minutes early.

  The stage was barely stopped before the driver vaulted off his seat. His boots slipped when he hit the snow covered street but it didn’t serve to slow him down. He ran around to the back for the cases. He grabbed two and tossed them onto the street before he whipped open the door to let the passengers out. However, instead of extending a helpful hand or offering a parting greeting, he hurried back to the front and climbed onto his seat.

  He appeared to be a man who couldn’t wait to be on his way. Something was wrong. Jed could feel it. Jed tried to catch his eye but it seemed the driver was looking everywhere but in Jed’s direction.

  From the open stage door, a man emerged. The door was barely shut behind him when the stage took off. The man turned and watched it go. He had what appeared to be an amused look on his face and Jed, as crazy as it seemed, felt a chill run down his spine.

  He was tall, somewhere near Jed’s own height, but he carried more weight than Jed. He wore a dark wool coat that fell past his knees and a hat to match. It had a fancy ribbon wrapped around it. Jed could see the man’s legs from the knees down. During his time with the railroads, he’d spent more than one evening with gentlemen who’d had personal resources greater than that of all of Mantosa. Their trousers had been made of silk, too.

  This was a man of some means. Jed made note of all the outward trappings of wealth but it was the man’s face that captured and held his attention. He had a broad forehead, a wide chin, and heavy jowls, giving his face an almost square look. His black brows were thick, his eyes small with dark shadows underneath. His nose was flat, like it had been smashed more than once. His lips were pale and narrow.

  There was no doubt about it. He’d studied the drawing often enough. This was the man that Bat Masterson had felt compelled to warn Jed about. Rantaan Toomay.

  Jed watched as Toomay leisurely surveyed the town before bending to retrieve his bags. He turned, giving his back to Jed, and started walking. He stepped up onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street and turned to his right.

  Jed stayed on his side of the street and he trailed Toomay. He kept his eyes moving, looking for anything else that might look out of place. He sure as hell didn’t want to be caught unaware by an accomplice of Toomay’s. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody had made a pretense out of arriving alone only to have a partner either already in town or arrive shortly after by an altogether different means.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of blue. He recognized it immediately. It was Bella’s scarf. She had it wrapped around her head and the tails were flying in the wind. She was on the same side of the street as Toomay.

  At first Jed figured that Bella had simply been out for a walk and she was returning to the Mercantile. But then when he saw Toomay hesitate as he passed the saloon and Bella abruptly stop walking, like she wanted to keep a predetermined distance between herself and the man, his heart, which had already skipped a beat just seeing Bella, started to pound in his chest.

  At the entrance of the hotel, Toomay stopped. He shifted both bags to one hand so that he could pull open the door. Jed watched Bella watch Toomay and once the man was inside, Bella hurried her steps. She walked past the Mercantile, directly into the hotel.

  What the hell? Jed crossed the street. But instead of going in the front door of the hotel, he slipped around the edge of the building and went in through a side door. Toomay was talking to the clerk at the desk. Jed saw him pull out a thick roll of cash and peel off some bills. The clerk slid a key across the counter.

  Bella had her back to Toomay, pretending to read the newspaper that had been left on a table. When the big man started across the room toward the stairs, Bella abruptly turned and almost bumped into him.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Toomay reached out to steady her. He held onto her arms, taking a long appreciative look.

  Jed felt sick. He wanted to rip Toomay’s hands away. But Bella didn’t seem to mind. She smiled at the big man.

  “I don’t think we’ve met,” she said.

  “I’d remember if we had,” he replied.

  She laughed. “Bella Wainwright. My aunt owns the Mercantile next door.”

  “Rantaan Toomay.”

  Bella stepped back, far enough that Toomay let his hands drop. “Just passing through, Mr. Toomay?” she asked.

  The man shrugged. “I’m not sure how long I’m planning to stay. But for now, I like what I see, Miss Wainwright.”

  “Mrs. Wainwright,” Bella corrected. “I’m a widow.”

  “My sympathies,” Toomay said. “Is it possible that you would consider having dinner with me tonight?”

  Jed thought about just shooting the bastard.

  Bella shook her head. “I’m sorry. My aunt fell yesterday and broke her leg. I really need to be with her tonight.”

  “Your aunt’s misfortune is my great loss,” he said. “Perhaps another time?”

  Jed flexed his fingers. Not anytime soon. He intended to convince Toomay that he’d be a whole lot better off if he left Mantosa quickly and quietly.

  “Lunch tomorrow?” Bella offered. “The saloon next door has a good cook.”

  What the hell?

  Toomay reached for her gloved hand and kissed it. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Bella left without another word and Toomay walked up the steps to his room. It was another five minutes before Jed worked up the strength to move.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  When Bella got inside the Mercantile, she sat in the back room, unable to face the prospect of customers. Her chest hurt. She pressed the palm of her hand in between her breasts. When she got back to her time, she was going to have to see a doctor—there was no way her heart hadn’t suffered irreparable damage.

  When she’d seen Toomay get out of the stage, her heart had dropped to her stomach. Now that it was back in place, it was still probably covered with all kinds of gross gastric acids. All she knew was that his feet had hit the ground and she’d immediately felt sick and lightheaded. When her knees had started to buckle, she’d had to lean against a wall. She’d stared at him, cataloguing each feature. Her father had, of course, described him. She’d been amazed at the detail he’d recalled, given that it had been 130 years in the past. However, now that she’d seen Toomay, she understood. His features were so bold and deliberate, his face almost had a cartoon-like feel. It would not be easy to forget.

  When he’d started walking, his long strides filled with purpose, her heart
had raced—not only from exertion, but from pure fear. She’d been waiting for days and now that he was here, she was really going to have to do something. Time was running out.

  While he’d been busy renting a room at the hotel, her heart had skipped beats, as her mind rapidly developed and more rapidly discarded ideas for getting him to notice her.

  In the end, there’d been nothing left to do but bump into him. He’d held onto her arms too long and she’d desperately wanted to jerk away. Perhaps it was him being Bad Magic—that always made Good Magic want to squirm. Perhaps it was simpler than that. Maybe just the pure arrogance he displayed had set her teeth on edge.

  But she’d managed to smile and flirt and she had finagled a lunch invitation. Her goal was to get him to trust her without putting herself at risk. Then, when the time came, she’d kill him.

  Kill him. The words echoed in her head, causing it to ache.

  She abhorred violence. She hated violent movies and regularly stopped reading once books got too gory. Averil had always teased her, had said she was the type of person who would take the ditch to avoid hitting a cat.

  Bella had known she was actually the type of witch who would keep driving but zap the cat, along with a can of tuna, to a safe place. But same difference. She didn’t go around killing.

  But Rantaan Toomay couldn’t be allowed to live past December fifth, 1877. If he did, and he had the chance to use his Bad Magic, there was no telling how different the world might be. Bad Magic, when channeled appropriately, could be so strong that there was no telling if there would even be a world.

  Bella heard someone knocking on the front door. She stood up, relieved to have something else to focus on. She was going to keep Aunt Freida’s store afloat. She intended to leave this time no worse for her having been here for a few days.

  Her heart took another jolt when she looked through the window and saw Jed outside her door. What now? The man had made it clear. He didn’t want anybody knowing that they’d spent the night together. He shouldn’t be pounding on her door in the middle of the day.

  She again pressed her hand to her chest. How could her poor heart survive when it was pulled in multiple directions?

  There was the contentment, the absolute safeness she’d felt in his arms. Then the heady rush of exhilaration when she’d been able to feel every inch of him pounding inside of her and had known he was as far gone as she. Then there was the complete and utter dismay when he’d more or less begged her to keep silent—saying it without saying it that the night was something he was ashamed of.

  After just getting done with Toomay, she didn’t think she had the strength to deal with Jed. Maybe tomorrow. She turned her back on the door, hoping he’d get the hint.

  He started pounding again. And it dawned on her that perhaps he’d come with news about Aunt Freida. Bella turned and whipped open the door. “What?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  He stared at her and she was reminded of how she’s felt when she’d woken up, after sleeping in front of his fire, and he’d been in the chair, watching her. Of course, they both knew where that had led.

  “Is it Aunt Freida?”

  He shook his head. “No. I…need some salt. I’m out at home.”

  Salt. He’d pounded on her door and scared her half to death for salt.

  “Perhaps if you’d have used less when you were grinding it into my wounds,” she said.

  He jerked back.

  She felt proud. She sounded confident, poised, even a little bold. Not at all like someone who felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She turned, walked over to the shelf, grabbed a box of salt, walked to the front counter, and set it down with a thud.

  “Fifteen cents,” she said.

  He walked to the front counter. “Maybe I want some candy,” he said. He looked into the glass case, studying the sweets as if it was the first time he’d ever seen them.

  If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was dawdling. She moved and then stood behind the glass counter, her impatience with Jed mounting with each breath she took. “I’ve got other work to do,” she said, finally.

  “Busy day?” he asked, his manner more deliberately sociable than she’d ever seen him.

  Was he trying to make up for their harsh words earlier? “I guess,” she said. Her stomach growled, loudly. She pressed her hand against her midsection. She hadn’t eaten breakfast—she’d been too upset about her conversation with Jed. She hadn’t eaten lunch after her confrontation with Toomay.

  “Busy enough that there was no time to get out for lunch?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” she said. Freida had an open tin of crackers in the back—they’d have to do.

  He considered her. “You should eat. I’ll bring lunch by for you tomorrow.”

  She was having lunch with Rantaan Toomay. Did he somehow know that? She dismissed the idea. She and Toomay had been the only ones in the lobby of the hotel.

  “That not necessary. I’ll bring something from Aunt Freida’s house.”

  He tapped his index finger against the glass. “It’s no trouble.”

  “That’s not the point,” she said. The point was, she already had a lunch date and furthermore, him bringing her lunch wasn’t exactly the way to keep people from speculating. He couldn’t have it both ways. “Look, Jed.” She sighed, deliberately, loudly. “Do you want any candy or not?”

  “I guess not.” He turned and walked toward the door.

  “Hey, what about your salt?”

  He turned, walked back to the counter, fished some coins out of his vest pocket, and threw them on the counter. He grabbed the box of salt and left without another word.

  The door slammed shut behind him. “Have a nice day,” she said.

  She was still fuming several hours later when Thomas Bean walked into the Mercantile. He was so tall that he had to duck when he came through the doorway. He looked self-consciously at the two women who were sorting through canned goods and he shuffled awkwardly toward the front of the store. “Afternoon, Bella,” he said.

  “How’s Aunt Freida?”

  “Better by far. Leg still pains her but her fever is down.”

  The relief was profound, warming her like a hot shower on a cold morning. “Thanks for coming by to tell me.”

  “My pleasure. I brought Freida’s rig into town so that you’ll have some way of getting home tonight. It’s at the Livery.”

  The hot water in the shower abruptly turned cold. And just as if she was at home in her ceramic tiled bathroom and that had happened, her muscles tensed and she felt suddenly chilled. Could she handle them? Or would she find herself stuck in the middle of nowhere?

  It wasn’t likely that Jed would come looking for her again.

  “That’s great, Thomas. I appreciate it. You’ve really been a big help.”

  The big man blushed. “It’s you being here at the Mercantile that really helps your aunt keep her mind off her worries.”

  In three days she was leaving. It was strange how things went. She’d been so concerned that the real Merribelle would show up and now she really wanted her to come soon.

  The two women were headed toward the counter and Bella could see Thomas shift uncomfortably. “I’ll see you later, Thomas,” she said.

  He touched the brim of his hat. “Good day,” he said. He left considerably faster than he’d come in.

  During the afternoon, she tackled the electrical section. Of course, there was nothing really electrical but she figured the candles, matches, lamps, lamp oil, and replacement wicks were in the same family—just a couple generations removed. Amidst those items, she found bags of flour, women’s nightgowns, and metal screws. Everything odd went on the middle table.

  By the end of the day, she was hoping to stumble upon a bottle of vodka. She needed a good stiff drink. All day long she been jumpy, looking up every time the door had opened. She’d worried that Toomay might come in; after all, she’d told him that she worked at the Mercantile.


  But he hadn’t and she’d never seen him walk past the Mercantile either. At the end of the day, she hurried through her closing activities and after pulling the door shut and checking to make sure it was locked, she walked slowly past the saloon. She saw Delilah inside. There were three tables of men, none of which were Toomay.

  She pushed through the swinging doors. “Hi Delilah,” she said. “How are you?”

  Delilah fingered the new ribbon in her hair. “I’ve been thinking about getting material for a new dress.”

  “Excellent. Maybe tomorrow?” Bella suggested. The more opportunities she had to connect with Delilah, the more opportunities to get the woman to trust her. Then, if and when she needed the woman’s help with Toomay, it would be easier to get it.

  “Slow night?” Bella asked, looking around.

  “Not for long. Rumor is that there’s a new man in town—likes to gamble, doesn’t seem to be all that good at it. People are getting excited about taking some of his money.”

  Bella knew Toomay had the power to win any card game, at any time. He was playing with people. She didn’t know what his game was but she could almost bet that anybody who played along would end up being the loser. “Have you met this man?”

  “No. I know the girl who cleans rooms at the hotel and she said that he’s a handsome devil.”

  Handsome? He’d turned Bella’s stomach but she supposed his bold looks might appeal to some. Devil? Yeah, that was about right. She wanted to warn Delilah but knew she couldn’t. It would cause the woman to have all kinds of questions. But she had to say something. “I guess you have experience with all kinds of smooth talkers, right? They wouldn’t fool you.”

  Delilah smiled. “I don’t get fooled but I don’t turn my back on a big tip, either. You know, I got plans.”

  Her father had said that after Delilah shot Toomay, he’d wiped all memory of the incident from her mind and had gotten her safely out of town so that she couldn’t in any way be connected to the man’s death. But where had Delilah ended up? And without memory of the incident, had she somehow drifted right back into the pattern of selling her body to the highest bidder. “Do those plans include leaving Mantosa?”