She didn’t care what Michael did or didn’t appreciate. She stifled a groan. She needed to break her engagement with him soon. Hopefully he wouldn’t hold it against her when the time came to sell her property.
“We’ll discuss it later.” She hurried past Caleb, took her keys off the hook, and let the ring slide over her finger with a jingle. “I have to leave or I’ll be late.” She opened the door. A rush of hot, humid air stole her breath. It wasn’t even seven yet, and the rising temperature indicated the day would be another record breaker.
“Give Pepper some water, and remember to drink some yourself,” Becci advised Caleb, affecting a melodramatic, motherly tone. “Take a break every hour, and don’t swim in the pond.”
Caleb laughed like she’d hoped he would.
I could be happy here.
Becci blinked as the words reverberated in her head. Had she heard his thoughts? They weren’t touching the dresser, so that was impossible—wasn’t it?
Twelve
BECCI BLOCKED OUT both the whimpers coming from the clear plastic portable cribs and Meg Franklin’s constant chattering. One of the aides hadn’t shown up, so she and Meg were responsible for the four girls and two boys.
The little girl she held to her shoulder stretched her fist upward, burped and then curled into a tiny knot. Becci adjusted her into the crook of her arm and hummed softly.
Meg finished feeding the baby she was tending and changed its diaper. Meg was the closest thing to a best friend Becci had ever had. They had taken several courses at the University of Tennessee together, had applied for their jobs as nursery aides on the same day, and somehow managed to work on the same shift three out of every five days. In a couple more semesters they would have taken all the courses they needed to attend the Methodist Hospital’s School of Nursing.
“Hey, girlfriend, you’re not listening again. I asked if you’ve decided what classes you’re going to take in the fall?” Meg repeated as she cupped her hand beneath the baby’s head and carried her back to her crib. She checked the infant in the next crib and sighed. “This one’s not too happy. I don’t think he likes the formula they’re giving him. He’s always hungry.”
“Boys usually are. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
“Classes, Becci. Which ones?” Meg prodded as she took the little boy to the changing table.
“I’m not taking any. I used up all my savings to patch the roof last month.”
“Why are you doing the repairs? Aren’t you selling the land to a commercial developer?”
“Well, yeah. It started out that way, but Aunt Lilly doesn’t want to sell. And I met this guy and . . .”
“Hold it,” Meg ordered, spinning around to face Becci while keeping one hand on the squirming infant. “Guy? What happened to Michael? I thought you two were engaged?”
“I was . . . am. But I’m having second thoughts. I don’t know if I love Michael. He’s nice enough, and he has helped Aunt Lilly and me plan a good budget to help eliminate the financial problems that mom and dad left behind, but . . .” She raised her shoulders in a shrug.
Through the glass enclosure Becci watched a maintenance man push his cart down the hall. Love—she’d never known two people who really loved each other. Although her parents hadn’t divorced, they certainly didn’t share an undying love. Becci sighed. Her grandmother had been a widow by the time she’d been born. If anyone had been happily married, it was Granny.
“Does your heart flutter?” Meg asked.
“What?” The question startled Becci, snapping her out of her reflections.
Meg turned back to the baby. After changing his diaper she carefully lifted the infant off the changing table and cuddled him against her shoulder. “When Michael kisses you, does your heart do funny flips? Or does just looking at him take your breath away?”
Caleb does that to me, she wanted to say. Instead she said, “Well, no. It’s not like that between us. It’s comfortable and relaxed and . . . and kind of quiet. I guess that’s why I’m questioning our relationship.”
“Have you slept with him?” Meg asked as she laid the baby in his crib.
Becci laughed. It was just like Meg to ask questions that everyone else would think too personal.
“No. We decided to wait until our wedding night.”
“You decided or did he? I mean it’s not like you’re a virgin, right?”
Becci couldn’t look directly at her friend, and she inwardly cursed the hot blush she could feel coloring her face.
“Heaven help me, you are! Does Michael know?”
Becci shook her head and raised the baby to her shoulder. “No. We’ve never discussed it.”
“Michael is supposedly madly in love with you. You’re engaged. Haven’t you ever had to fight off his advances?”
“Meg, that’s none of your business.”
“Okay. Let’s put it a different way. Number one, he claims to love you. Number two, he never takes you out to dinner or to a movie. And number three, unless things have changed over the last month, you’re paying him to help you with your financial problems, but you haven’t seen a cent of the pennies he’s pinching for you. I’ve told you all along I had my doubts about his credibility.”
“Don’t you start, too,” Becci snapped. “We went out last week. Granted, I paid for the tickets. The function was a fundraiser for the people trying to get aid from Ascomp, but it was definitely a date.”
“You paid?”
“Michael forgot his checkbook. He promised to pay me back.”
“You had a lousy time, didn’t you? And I’ll bet you ten bucks you’ll never see one dime of your money.”
Shoving herself out of the rocker, Becci thought about her date with Michael. She couldn’t stop the smile from sneaking to her lips. That had been the night Caleb had discovered car alarms.
“From your smile, I’d say I’m wrong.”
“No. You’re right, but Caleb has a way of turning every situation upside-down and making it fun.”
“Caleb? Wait . . . one . . . minute,” Meg said, separating each word with exaggerated flare. “I thought you went out with Michael.”
“I did. Caleb is the guy that has me questioning my feelings for Michael, but Caleb’s only here for a short time.”
“Uh huh. How does he make you feel?”
“Oh, dear. I’ve got to go. Look at the time,” Becci said, glancing at the clock.
“Not so fast. Let me get this straight. Your date with Michael turned out badly.”
Becci nodded.
“I assume that something happened after the date, and that something has to do with this Caleb guy.”
Becci nodded again.
“Tell me about him.”
“No time,” Becci muttered. “I promise to explain tomorrow. I should have been out of here five minutes ago. Caleb’s having dinner with Aunt Lilly and me.”
“I’m not working tomorrow,” Meg declared. “I’ll let it slide for now, but you mark my word Mary Rebecca, I won’t let you off the hook. Next time I see you, I want a full report.”
“You’ve got it,” Becci said as she placed the baby in its portable bed, noting the time and the amount of the feeding for the nurse to add to the chart.
Grabbing her purse, she raced to the elevator. Was she in a hurry to escape Meg’s continuous questions, or to rush home to Caleb? She didn’t know. Besides, if Caleb found the key to the time lock, he would be gone. Or would he? From what she could tell, he didn’t love her namesake, so would he really choose to go back?
He might not have a choice. Aunt Lilly’s words haunted her. She knew he hadn’t had a choice in coming here. Fate had played a dirty trick on him. Or was the trick on her? Had fate sent him here to make her understand what losing the manor really meant or to st
eal her heart?
Becci tugged on the car door. It made a horrible creaking sound as it opened and again as it closed. She turned the key, and the old car’s engine did its usual grind before it finally started.
Through the copse of oaks, she could see her house. In less than five minutes she would be home. She exited the parking lot, and her heart began to flutter. Was this the sensation Meg had spoken of? Did she actually have deeper feelings for Caleb than she wanted to admit?
She rested her head against the steering wheel and waited for the light to change. Yes, she did care for Caleb, and she couldn’t wait to see him. Her heart pounded like a drum, and her pulse fluttered with expectation.
Would Caleb be waiting to greet her? Or would he still be clearing away the brush from around the lake? With the attraction between them simmering on the edge of combustion, she knew she should keep her distance. At least until she broke up with Michael.
Becci turned into the drive. Maybe she’d talk to Aunt Lilly. She might be able to give her some advice to straighten out her confusion.
After parking the car, Becci caught her purse by the strap, slid out of the car, and hurried in the front door. She entered the dining room and came to an abrupt halt.
She had a perfect view of the kitchen table. Caleb was placing the flatware at a precise angle beside each plate. She waited for him to glance up. He worked his way around the table, keeping his gaze riveted to the task he performed.
His normally shadowed chin held no stubble. Moisture shimmered in the dark hair hanging over his shirt collar. He looked as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. She’d seen him clean-shaven with a thin sheen of water glistening in his hair before, yet, something didn’t seem right. He looked . . . different.
Unable to discern what it could be, she shrugged off the strange feeling and took another step into the kitchen.
Caleb didn’t move from behind the table. Slowly he laid the last piece down and glanced up.
“Hello.” He wedged his fingers into his pockets. “I hope you had as good a day as I did.”
“It was nice,” Becci stated casually as she made her way to the alcove by the back door. “What did you do today?”
“I ate lunch with Miss . . . with Lilly,” he corrected. Lilly told him that most people today didn’t put Miss in front of people’s given names. “After that, she suggested I read or watch the television while she went shopping. I’m not much of a sitter unless I’m reading, so Lilly gave me a couple of books, and I sat outside under the oak until she came back.”
“What era did you study today?” Becci asked, hanging her jacket on one of the hooks. She then took off the pillbox cap and stuffed it in the pocket of her lab coat. One by one she removed the pins holding her hair in a twist and shook it out. When she turned back Caleb’s face had turned a deep crimson under his dark tan.
“I—it—Lilly called them romance novels. They were . . . entertaining.”
Becci felt the heat creeping up her neck to her cheeks. She knew the types of romance novels her aunt preferred. “Yeah, I bet. But that stuff is fiction. Take us for instant. If we were the characters in one of those books, we would already be lovers and falling irrevocably in love. We’re not. We’re friends, nothing more,” she stated flatly, her cheeks growing hotter. “You enjoyed the books?”
He remained silent as he eased out from behind the table and cupped his palm to her cheek. He brushed his thumb over her lips. “Yes. I did.”
With his index finger, Caleb tucked a strand of hair behind Becci’s ear, letting the back of his hand slide slowly down her neck. He knew he shouldn’t be touching her like this, but according to the books he’d read, touching in this era wasn’t as taboo as it was in his.
“I like your hair down,” he told her, his voice oddly husky. “I dream about how it would look draped over a snow-white pillow. That’s what the guy in the book said, but it’s true. I dream about you like that. Do people today really do the, uh, things that, uh . . . ”
“It’s fiction, Caleb,” Becci interrupted, her breath catching at the feel of his fingers massaging her nape. “Fables, stories, tales, untruths. Things like that don’t happen in real life.”
“People don’t move through time, either,” he murmured softly. He lowered his head. His lips hovered over hers, his words nothing more than a warm, faint tingle of air.
“No. They don’t,” Becci whispered. “And people thrown together like we’ve been don’t become lovers, either.”
A shiver rippled through her. They weren’t lovers and they wouldn’t be, could never be. Meg’s questions about her feelings had her wondering if she did feel more for Caleb than friendship. He did make her heart race.
She silently chanted, “We’re not in love,” like a guru repeating a meditation. She couldn’t deny the attraction, but it wasn’t love.
Caleb inched closer, his breath touching her cheek. “Fiction or not, the book I read had a very emotional impact. With what I’ve learned, everything seemed . . . plausible.”
One second mixed with the next until time became irrelevant. Becci feathered her hands over Caleb’s chest, and caught him by the shoulders to keep from melting into him.
A cabinet door snapped closed in the dining room. The noise ricocheted through the kitchen, jolting them apart.
Caleb stared at Becci, feeling confused. She’d said they were friends, and they were. But what he felt went deeper than just friendship. He wanted to kiss her and tell her he’d missed her today, but he’d lost whatever composure he had when she slid her hands over his shoulders and gazed up at him. He expelled a long, weary breath and backed away from her.
Becci sucked in a shaky breath and took another step backward, too. “You . . . you said Aunt Lilly went shopping. What for?”
Caleb held his arms out to the side and shrugged. “These.”
“Clothes!” Becci exclaimed. She hadn’t noticed that Caleb’s long-sleeved, plaid shirt had been replaced by a blue-knit golf shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. His jeans had been swapped for denim shorts. No wonder he’d looked different to her! Her gaze fastened on his bare legs and slowly moved upward. Her mouth went dry. By the time her eyes reached his lips, butterflies were doing double-time in her stomach.
“Lilly bought me two outfits. When I refused them, she said the work I did more than paid for the clothes and that I reminded her of Nick on her favorite soap. I don’t know who Nick is, or why he’d be on soap, but she assured me it was good.” He shrugged. “She said these clothes are what he would wear.”
Slowly Becci realized what he’d said. Lilly bought . . .
“How did she p-pay f-for them?”
Caleb glanced at Lilly over Becci’s shoulder. “She said she didn’t need anything but a small piece of plastic.”
“Damn it, I don’t have money to clothe you!”
Caleb flinched. He hadn’t expected Becci’s angry explosion.
“Whether you pay cash or charge them, they eventually have to be paid for. I already have more bills than I can pay now.”
Becci whirled around at the sound of her aunt shutting the oven.
“How could you? You know how tight money is. First Michael waltzes me into that fund raiser and orders me to write a check for fifty dollars a plate, and now I have to pay for clothes I can’t afford.” Tears blurred her vision. She battled to keep them from falling but failed. As they rolled down her cheeks, she batted at them impatiently and said, “Don’t you understand we can’t pay the bills? There is no more money.”
Lilly set the biscuits on a trivet. Her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Becci. I didn’t think you’d mind.” She drew in a deep breath. “Everything will be just fine. You’ll see. Now you just go wash-up. We’ll discuss this later.”
Caleb kept his eyes trained on Becci until she ran from
the room. Her tears squeezed at his heart. He hadn’t realized that accepting the clothes would create such a problem. Why had he let Lilly talk him into them? He’d never accepted charity before. This would be the first and the last time. And he’d caused a problem between Lilly and Becci.
He hadn’t hurt the clothes. Maybe the storeowner would take them back. If not, he would find a way to pay for them.
Lilly set a steaming bowl of potatoes on the table and cast a quick glance toward the doorway. “I’m sorry. I guess I should have asked, but I really didn’t think she would mind.”
“I don’t want to cause trouble between you and Becci.”
“Pooh. You didn’t do anything. I’m the one who upset her by going shopping without consulting her. Her and her foolish rules. We can’t buy this or that. Watch what you spend. You can’t do this because there’s no money. When will all this end?”
“Maybe if I talk to the storeowner he’ll take them back?”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem, but I don’t want to take them back.”
“I insist. I don’t need them, and if returning them helps make things right, it’s what should be done.”
“You love her,” Lilly said quietly.
“I don’t know if it’s love, but I do know that what I feel is wrong. As Becci said earlier, this isn’t one of those romance novels or television stories you’ve introduced me to. I’m an honorable man, Lilly. I would never do anything to hurt either of you, no matter what’s written in those journals.”
“Heaven forbid,” Lilly gasped as she pressed her hand to her chest in a theatrical gesture. “You mean you’re not the murderer they claim you are?” Her voice became serious again. “Where Becci is concerned, all I ask is that you not break her heart when you decide to return to your own era.”
Caleb shrugged. “The heart is a funny thing. It gets hurt real easy. I don’t plan on letting anything hurt Becci, but it would be best if I left soon. I’m beginning to care more than I should. She’s already taken, and I still have a promise to keep. And that means I must go back. Just know that where Becci is concerned I won’t act on my—”
Keeper of the Key Page 18
