“You don’t have to talk about me as if I wasn’t here.” Jack faced Randolph. “I can speak for myself.”
“But if you’ve lost your memory, as these ladies claim…” Randolph smirked.
Jack lifted a hand to probe the back of his head. “I can assure you the beam that flattened me caused memory loss. When I woke, I didn’t know where I was or who I was.”
Amanda turned her head to shoot him a warning glance. He knew better than to say too much to this guy.
He possessively brushed his hand over her arm. “If Amanda hadn’t found me, I might’ve died right there.”
“Amanda?” Randolph’s face turned red. “He’s calling you by your Christian name?”
Amanda bit her lip, but nodded. “It was easier, seeing as we’re caring for him.”
“And what do you call him?” Randolph sneered.
“She calls me Jack as does her stepmother.” He gestured toward Erin.
Randolph withdrew a handkerchief from his vest pocket and pressed it to his nose as if to ward off a bad smell. “Well…it looks as if you’re up and about now. I take it you’ll be returning to your home.”
Erin stepped forward. “He doesn’t remember where he lives. We’re allowing him to stay until he does.”
“But this is highly improper, madam.” Randolph pinned Amanda with a scowl, then turned his attention back to her mother. “Your daughter is young and unmarried and this man is…is…”
Jack stepped to within an inch of the simpering man’s face. He’d had all he could take of his accusations. “Is what?”
Amanda grasped Jack’s arm and gently pulled him back. “I think I should speak to Randolph alone.”
“And I think you shouldn’t.” He held her arm to prevent her from leaving his side.
“Jack, please.” Her gaze held his. “I can take care of myself.”
Erin nodded. “They’ll be in the parlor.” She stepped to Jack’s side and grasped his arm. “We’ll go to the kitchen. I’m sure Mrs. O’Leary has something for you to eat.”
Jack glanced at Amanda, then Randolph.
Erin tilted her head toward the hall. “She’ll be fine.” She patted his forearm.
“Okay,” he relented. “If you’re sure.”
Amanda nodded. “Go on. I’ll be out shortly.”
He allowed Erin to lead him to a doorway down the hall. When she pushed the door open, delicious aromas drew his interest. He turned back once, but she led him into the room.
“It’ll be all right, Jack.”
But he wished he’d had the chance to flatten the pompous bastard. In time, maybe he would.
Chapter Eight
Once Randolph had taken his leave and Jack had gone upstairs for a nap, Amanda decided she needed to confront her stepmother and find out what the devil was going on between her and Jack. And how much did her father know?
Well, she damned well planned to find out.
Erin sat alone in the parlor, a notebook perched on her lap. Her gaze wandered to Amanda, while she chewed absently on the end of a pencil.
“Mother.” Amanda stepped into the room and closed the doors behind her. “I need to speak with you.”
Erin set her pad and pencil on the small end table and sat up straighter, twisting in Amanda’s direction. “What is it, dear?”
Amanda perched on the chair beside Erin. “I want to talk to you about Jack…and also Randolph.”
“Jack?” Erin’s brows rose. “Is he all right?”
“He’s fine.” Amanda sighed, folding her hands in her lap. “I don’t think Randolph much likes Jack staying with us.”
Erin leaned forward. “Does his opinion bother you?”
“I really don’t care what Randolph thinks.”
“I see.”
“Mother, I know you don’t like Randolph, but he’s the most suitable man for me in town right now. At least Father thinks so. He’s also provided me with a job that I love.”
“I know.” Erin rose and paced before the fireplace. “But I’d hoped you wouldn’t allow him to sway your affections. I don’t believe he’s the right man for you.”
“Father wouldn’t agree.” Amanda frowned.
“Your father is a man of his time…” Erin turned away.
Amanda rose. “What do you mean?”
“Ah…” Erin planted a hand on her hip and turned to face Amanda. “He’s just old-fashioned in his thinking, not forward thinking like…”
“Like you?”
Erin nodded.
“Mother, you always told me Father was a forward thinking man. It’s why you fell in love with him.”
“Guess I worded that wrong.” Erin bit her lip.
Amanda fisted her hands and propped them on her hips. “I only agreed to allow Randolph to court me as a means to an end. But if he’s my only opportunity for marriage and family, I don’t have much of a choice.” She sucked on her lower lip. “Jack is so different than any man I’ve ever met.”
“He’s a working class man, dear. How many of them do you even speak to?”
“You’d be surprised.” Amanda rounded on her stepmother. “I think a man who works with his hands is incredibly appealing.”
Erin smiled. “You and me both.”
“But Father’s a banker.” Amanda protested.
“When I met him, he was a soldier.”
“An officer.”
“A man who rode horses, lived in an army camp, marched out to face enemy soldiers…” Erin sighed.
“I understand, Mother. If he’d been a banker when you first met him, you’d likely have never given him the time of day.”
“When you’re attracted to a man…” Erin crossed her arms over her bodice. “…you feel tingly when he’s near.” She gazed at Amanda. “When that happens, you’ll know he’s the man for you.”
“Is this how you felt when you first met Father?” Amanda studied her stepmother’s face.
She nodded. “But he did frighten me at first.”
Amanda hugged herself. “Jack excites me. I want to help him, but something about him scares me.”
“He’s harmless. Just a lost soul is all.” Erin glanced away.
Footsteps in the hall drew Amanda’s attention. The door opened, revealing her father.
“Here you two are.” He stepped into the room. “The house seemed deserted when I arrived.”
Erin glanced toward the clock on the mantel. “Mrs. O’Leary mustn’t have started supper yet. Is Billy with you?”
“No, I left early. Wanted to be sure everything’s all right here?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Amanda eyed her father.
“Ah, just overthinking on my part, I suppose.”
Erin stepped toward her husband, fingering his collar. “It’s no matter. Any excuse to spend more time with you is to my liking.”
“I think I’ll be checking on Jack.” Amanda edged around her parents wanting to give them privacy.
“Bring him down if he’s up to it,” Erin said. “I’m sure he’s tired of being cooped up in Billy’s room. You could take him out into the garden.”
“I will.” Amanda left the parlor and ascended the stairs. Her pulse raced in anticipation of seeing Jack. She recalled her stepmother’s description of how Amanda would know when she found the right man.
****
Jack stood by the window gazing over the street below. His thoughts were in a jumble over his predicament. How the hell was he going to get home? Was it even possible?
And if he could, what about Amanda? The click of footsteps in the hall drew his attention from the window. A soft rap sounded.
“Come in. I’m decent,” he called.
The door opened, and Amanda slipped into the room, a grin spreading across her face.
“My mother suggested I take you outside…if you’re feeling up to it.” Her full lips twisted.
“Do I?” Adrenaline rushed through his body at the thought of finally escaping the house.
“Great!” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sick of being cooped up.”
“All right, let’s go then.”
Jack crooked his arm as he’d seen the other men do. Amanda wrapped both her arms around his extended one, her warmth and softness so close. The urge to lean over and kiss her lips overwhelmed him. He had to get a grip on himself. In his own century it might work, but here? He decided he’d better err on the side of caution and follow her lead.
Her scent drifted over him, flowery and sweet. Her smooth forehead a breath from his lips, as she led him out into the hallway.
“Mother and Father are in the parlor, but I don’t want to disturb them.” She giggled as they reached the top of the stairs. “I think they were on the verge of getting romantic.”
Jack smiled, intrigued at the thought. “Your mother is a remarkable woman.”
“She is,” Amanda agreed. “She’s encouraged me to go beyond the boundaries set for proper young ladies. Told me to follow my dreams and live how I want, not what society demands of me.”
She held tight to his arm as they eased down the staircase.
“And what does your father have to say?”
“Oh, he’s a bit more conservative about how a young lady should behave.” At the bottom of the stairs, she lifted her chin, tilting her head. “But he always bows to Mother’s wishes. He wouldn’t dare try to order her around, like other men do with their wives.” She grinned. “Let’s go see the garden.”
Chapter Nine
Amanda led him through the kitchen to a door that opened to the rear of the house. She stopped on a small porch with three steps leading to a garden. Assorted flowers, shrubs, and neat rows of vegetables took up the space, except for a flagstone path with a stone bench set to the side.
He followed Amanda out onto the path, then stopped and gazed around.
“Are you all right?” Concern creased her face. “You don’t feel dizzy or weak, do you?”
He patted his chest. “No. In fact, this is the best I’ve felt since…well, since before I was conked on the head.”
She laughed. The sound caused him to grin. “You think it’s funny?”
“No, not at all.” She held up her hand. “It’s the way you said it, I suspect. Struck me as funny.”
Emboldened by her humor, he lifted his hand to the small of her back. Her lashes dipped, then she gazed at him, her tongue flitting out to lick her lower lip.
“Shall we sit?” she asked.
“Sounds good.” He waved his other arm for her to precede him down the path.
They stopped by the bench. She gathered her skirts and settled onto the stone surface. He sat beside her, not sure what to do next.
“Just breathe it all in,” she said.
He took a deep breath, taking in the assorted aromas. It felt good to be outdoors.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Amanda cleared her throat.
Jack swiveled his head to gaze down at her. A red-gold strand of hair had come loose from her bun and dangled over her cheek. He longed to reach out and brush it back but held himself in check.
She lifted a hand and pushed the strand back into her bun, then gazed up at him, biting her lip.
“You should leave it loose,” he said on impulse.
Her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your hair is beautiful but would look a lot better hanging loose around your shoulders.” In fact, he’d love to see it around her bared shoulders but didn’t dare voice the idea.
Although her mouth gaped, a hint of a smile showed in her eyes. “Do ladies in your time wear their hair down outside the bedroom?”
“Yeah, some do.” He sat back and scowled, realizing she’d tricked him.
“Jack, it’s all right. I know you don’t come from here. You’re from the time where my stepmother came from.”
Jack stiffened. “I don’t think we should be talking about this.”
“Please.” She grasped his hand and held it between her own. “I’ve heard stories about your time ever since I was a small girl. I’ve always dreamed of going there. Mother told me all about the flying machines and great ships that fly off into space. The moon even! Just like in a Jules Verne novel.” She dropped his hand and clasped hers together. “You have to take me there. Show me all of it.”
“Amanda.” Jack sighed. “I’m not even sure how I got here, or if I can ever go back.”
Her gaze dropped to the path. “I so want to go.”
“Believe me…” Jack raised his hand. “If I knew how to do it, I’d take you.”
“You would?” Her gaze rose to his.
He shrugged. “I don’t know how.”
“But you would take me?”
He nodded, unsure of what else to say.
“There might be a way, but I have to get hold of my stepmother’s brooch.”
“A brooch?” Jack frowned. “What does a brooch have to do with anything?”
Amanda leaned forward. “I think this brooch is what sent my stepmother back in time, then returned her.” She caught his gaze and shrugged. “It’s worth a try.”
“How does it work?”
“I’m not sure.” She shook her head.
“Your stepmother told me she returned to the future after being shot.” He brushed a hand over his chest. “I don’t like that idea much.”
“There must be another way.” She lifted a hand and laid it atop his. “I don’t like the idea of you being shot either.”
Jack held his breath. Her fingers rested over his heart. He grasped her hand, entwining their fingers.
Her face colored. “We should be getting inside. It must be near time for supper.”
“Wait.” Jack grasped her wrist to keep her from pulling away. “What about this Randolph? How do you feel about him?”
“I-I’m not sure. My stepmother says he’s not right for me.” She scowled.
“Because he’s old-fashioned?” Jack guessed.
She lifted her gaze to his. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s what your stepmother told me. Why she doesn’t want you to marry him.”
Amanda smiled. “Yes. He’s boorish and has outdated ideas. He believes a woman is only useful when she’s tending to her home, man, and children.”
“But you work for him.”
“It’s a great opportunity, such that it is.” She shrugged. “What about the women of your time?”
“They can do any type of job they want and are qualified for.” He grinned. “They even get to fly into space with the men.”
Amanda gasped. “You can’t be serious.” She lifted both hands to her mouth. “What a wonderful place to live!” She dropped her gaze and twisted her hands in her skirts. “But I’m sure with all those modern women to choose from, you’d have no interest in an old-fashioned girl like me.”
“Amanda…” Jack took both her hands in his. “I’ve never met anyone like you. When I first saw your photo—”
“My photo?” She frowned. “Where did you see it?”
“It was in the house where you found me, but in the future. It was hanging on the wall at the bottom of the stairs.”
“In the house Randolph is building?” Her lower lip trembled.
Jack leaned forward, unable to stop himself, and lightly brushed his lips over hers. She tasted sweet, like cinnamon and sugar.
She reared back, her lips in a firm line, but then opened, as he enfolded her pliant body in his arms. He stroked his hands around her back and pulled her as close as possible. Her heart beat swiftly, like a delicate, caged bird.
The kiss rocked him to his core. Although he’d dreamed of kissing those lush lips, the reality was so much better. An ache formed in his chest at the thought of going home and never seeing her again.
He finally released her. Her eyes
looked a bit glazed, her lips swollen and her hair mussed. He bit his lip, wondering what reception they’d get at supper.
****
Amanda’s knees weakened as a thrill raced through her body. No man had ever kissed her like that. Of course, she hadn’t had much opportunity with other men. And had never allowed Randolph to get so close.
She gazed into Jack’s eyes. His lips twisted into an adorable half-smile, his eyes bright, face flushed. Had he felt the same thing she had?
“Are you okay, Amanda?” His smile turned down into a frown.
“I-I think so.” She touched her lips, the sensation of his pressed against hers still with her. She was also very aware of his male scent. If she didn’t fear someone would discover them, she’d fling her arms around him for another round of kisses.
“Guess we better go inside.” He stood.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He tottered a bit, so she grasped his arm to steady him.
He patted her hand and stepped toward the porch steps. Her breath caught at the warmth radiating from this man. When she first met him, he’d been injured, a partial invalid. Now, even though he wasn’t yet fully recovered, she sensed the power in his body. He was a working man, used to wielding heavy tools.
His calloused palms on her body thrilled her. Her face flamed. She had to calm her reaction before they stepped inside.
He led her up the steps onto the porch, then lifted her chin for a brief, sweet kiss. She licked her lips and smiled.
“You wouldn’t take such liberties if my father was watching.”
He glanced toward the window. “You think he is?”
She laughed, a light, tinkling sound. “You’d better hope not.”
He grinned. “He could be in there right now, loading his shotgun.”
“He won’t force you to marry me, Jack. Not over a kiss.” She gathered her skirts as he reached for the doorknob.
“Comforting to know, but…”
“But what?”
His lips found hers again. “If that’s what it takes to let me keep kissing you, it’s not so bad.”
She swatted at him. “I suspect you’re teasing me. Let’s get in to supper before my stepmother comes looking for us.”
Jack opened the door for her and followed her down the hall. Even if no one had been watching from the window, they’d surely get the gist of what mischief they’d been up to by looking at their faces.
Thoroughly Modern Amanda Page 6
