Keeper of the Key

by Barbara Christopher

  “I did kill a man, Becci,” he said, his words a feathery breeze against her lips.

  He was so close his features were blurred, and Becci could detect his unique masculine scent, combined with the soap he’d used.

  “Was it Elizabeth’s lover?” she whispered, leaning toward him.

  He turned and braced his back against the wall. Lifting the top hat, he raked his hand through his dark hair and then replaced the hat. His blue eyes flared with anger, and then filled with a bleak sadness that tugged at her heart. He angled his head to one side and stared at her. The grandfather clock in the parlor counted the seconds with a loud, pulsing beat.

  Neither of them spoke, and the silence lengthened, creating a tension that sent a wave of awareness bouncing between them. Would he explain his fiancé’s death? Could she believe what he said?

  Yes. One thing she’d learned over the past few weeks was that Caleb Harrison didn’t hide from the truth.

  “How did you find out about Elizabeth?”

  “I . . . I read about her in your Bible.”

  “You accused me of snooping. Is what you did any different? What’s written in there is private, as is what is written in my journal. Did you read that, too?”

  Becci shook her head. “No, I didn’t. The Bible was in my things when you arrived. You brought the journal with you when you came.”

  The image of the tattered book lying beside the Bible came to mind. She’d known it held Caleb’s innermost thoughts, but she hadn’t even considered reading it.

  He didn’t respond for several minutes, and she thought he’d decided not to tell her the story. Then he stated bluntly, “Elizabeth was a working woman. She sold herself to live. I mistook her desire for me as love. Being a bastard, I believed that we were well suited for each other.”

  He paused and drew in a deep breath, then said, “She promised she would stop selling herself once we were betrothed, but I caught her . . . working. Stripped down to her frilly pantaloons and rocking above another man with more fierceness than she’d ever shown me. She was my woman, and she brought another man to my tent. Yes, in a fit of anger, I could have killed her, but I didn’t. I did kill him, but not intentionally.”

  Caleb closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall. The vision of Elizabeth, her dress discarded and her lithe body thrusting against a stranger, wouldn’t leave him.

  Wearily, he opened his eyes. “The man heard me cock my rifle. He shoved Elizabeth at me, and I dropped my rifle when I grabbed for Elizabeth. The rifle hit the ground and fired at the same time as the man’s gun. My bullet killed him. His killed Elizabeth. She . . . she died in my arms.”

  “You loved her.”

  He didn’t think Becci wanted an answer, yet he needed to give her one. “I thought I did. But in an instant that love turned to hate. What counts most is what’s in here.” Caleb tapped his chest with one finger. “I thought Elizabeth only sold herself to survive, that she was a good woman. She wasn’t. She’d promised to stop selling herself the day we became betrothed. I learned later that she never stopped.”

  His voice was emotionless as he continued. “I swore I would never trust another person, man or woman.” Caleb shifted on the step, rested his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands beneath his chin. “Until I met Saul and Rebecca, I kept that promise.”

  Becci rested her hand on his shoulder. She had sensed from the very beginning that something kept him from trusting anyone. Now she understood why.

  “Saul and Rebecca? You trusted them?”

  “Yes, and they trusted me. But I failed them. I came here, Rebecca died, and I have no idea what happened to Luke.”

  Becci wished she could soothe away his hurt. “You didn’t fail Rebecca, Caleb. What happened was beyond your control. You didn’t purposely break your promise, and there’s a chance you can right what happened. Go back and . . . and save Rebecca and become Luke’s father. I know that’s what you want to do.”

  Becci could see the pain in his blue eyes, and the crooked grin he flashed at her didn’t have its usual spark. “Is that what you want me to do?”

  She brushed a stray curl off her forehead and took a fortifying breath.

  “I guess it’s time to tell you my reasons for selling the manor,” she said ignoring his question.

  “This wasn’t a trade off, Becci. I know you need the money to pay bills.” His cheeks flushed. “I found all the past due notices in the trash last week. I wasn’t snooping.”

  “Sure. You always go through people’s trash,” she stated dryly, but she couldn’t summon up any anger. She been curious about him, and it only made sense that he’d be just as curious about her. “But you’re right. I need to sell to pay my bills and my college tuition. I’ve wanted to go to college since my freshmen year of high school.”

  Caleb knew she was lost in thought when she paused and caught her long braid, twisting it around her finger. “I even set up a college savings account with my baby-sitting money. What I didn’t know was that as fast as I put the money in, my dad was taking it out. Later he told me he’d done it for my own good, that he’d used the money to put food on the table. You know,” she said turning to look at him, “I believed my father. It wasn’t until later that I learned that he’d had to use my money for food because he drank and gambled all his money away.

  “That’s one of the reasons why the nursery is so important to me. I want to give those new mothers a safe place to keep their babies. Especially those women who have a hard time paying their bills and can’t afford top dollar for day care.”

  She sighed again and leaned against the newel post. “When my parents died, I inherited this house and all their debts. Michael stepped in to help me.”

  She felt Caleb tense and said, “Michael thinks he loves me, and his intentions are honorable. But when I met you I realized that what I felt for Michael was only gratitude, not love. In case you’re interested, my relationship with Michael was not an . . . intimate one. We weren’t, uh, like those romance novels you read.”

  Shifting sideways, Caleb reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and slowly let his knuckles glide down the contour of her jaw.

  His touch sent a shiver shooting through Becci. His expression grew serious, and he leaned closer until the heat of his breath dusted her cheek. “And what do you feel are my intentions?”

  Becci wasn’t sure how to respond, so she said, “You’ve been honest from the beginning. You need this mysterious medallion everyone keeps talking about to get back to Rebecca, and you’ll do anything to get it.”

  He backed away. His eyes dimmed. “Not anything. What has happened between us has nothing to do with your damn gold, this house, or my leaving.”

  He closed his eyes and swallowed hard before confessing, “If you let me, I’m going to make love to you. Not for the gold, or payment, or any other reason except that it’s what you and I both want. When I leave—and I know I have to go—I’ll take only the medallion to get me back where I belong. If there is any gold here, it will be yours to do with as you please. Hopefully there will be enough money for the taxes and your education. And maybe even enough to set up your nursery should you decide to keep this house.”

  “I’m not sure there is any gold. If there is, it’s been buried for years.”

  “It’s real. I’ve seen it.”

  “You’ve seen it?” she repeated, eyeing him dubiously.

  He nodded. “Rebecca didn’t believe in banks, and Saul once showed me where she’d hidden it in case something happened to them and I needed it to care for Luke.”

  “Then you know where it is?”

  “No,” he said, telling himself it wasn’t really a lie. He had an idea where the gold might be, but he didn’t know for sure. “After Saul died, Rebecca told me she’d moved the money and tha
t she’d show me where it was hidden. She never got the chance before . . . I ended up here.”

  Becci’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. “Aunt Lilly thinks the secret to finding the gold is in Rebecca’s journals. I’m not sure. But it can wait until after the party. Once I know for sure I have to sell the house, I won’t mind tearing up the place to look for it.”

  He wanted to tell her nothing needed to be destroyed, but what if he was wrong? What if the gold wasn’t in the furniture’s hidden compartments? What if Rebecca had hidden it elsewhere because she didn’t trust him? Caleb brushed his hand over a tiny booklet he’d found in Obadiah’s top hat. Maybe Rebecca had hidden the gold she hoarded in the linings of dresses long since given away.

  Caleb leaned closer and closed his eyes just as he brushed his lips against hers. “It can wait, but this can’t.”

  Becci circled her hands around his neck and pulled him closer. He felt his own pulse thrum against her palms. He sank back, drawing her between his thighs. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Becci. When her tongue slipped between his lips, he groaned. Her kiss was unlike any he’d ever experienced. The women he’d had in the bordellos didn’t kiss, they just submitted with as little contact as the act allowed.

  “How long will Miss Lilly be gone?” he asked, his voice shaking with emotion.

  Before Becci could answer, a loud ring shattered the moment. They jerked apart and sprang to their feet like children caught misbehaving.

  Caleb searched for the source of the racket. It wasn’t the doorbell or car alarm. This was something new.

  He watched Becci pick up a plastic rectangle off the table and speak into it, saying Lilly’s name as if she spoke to the woman.

  A telephone. He’d seen them on television, and Miss Lilly had shown him the one Becci held and suggested he read about them in the encyclopedias. But he was usually outside, so he’d never heard this one ring or talked into it.

  “May I?” Caleb asked, taking the receiver before Becci could refuse and bringing it to his ear.

  “And make sure Caleb hangs the pants and shirt up so they won’t wrinkle,” he heard Lilly say.

  “Lilly? You sound like you’re standing right here with me. I’ll be real careful with Obadiah’s things. I promise.”

  “Caleb, I don’t have much time, so please put Becci back on the line.”

  “What line?” Caleb glanced at Becci’s feet and frowned. “She wasn’t on a line, so I can’t put her back on it.”

  “Give her the phone.”

  He held the receiver out to Becci. “Lilly wants you to get back on the line.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. Becci covered her lips with her fingertips to keep from laughing. She shook her head and took the phone. She couldn’t believe the emotional roller coaster they’d been on for the past thirty minutes. From serious to sensual, and now Caleb’s eyes were full of laughter, glittering like stars.

  He reached up and traced the smooth surface of the receiver to the shell of Becci’s ear and down the curve of her jaw. There was no mistaking the teasing grin as he continued his taunting caress. Slowly, he drew an invisible mark down her neck to the lacy trim, around the cameo and on down the row of tiny buttons to the swell of her breast.

  Becci slapped at his hand and turned away until she finished talking to Lilly. When she placed the phone in its cradle, she glanced back at Caleb. “Aunt Lilly wanted to let us know everything is in place. She’s spending the night at her sister’s. Aunt Maude volunteered to help Aunt Lilly prepare most of the food, and since her kitchen is bigger, they decided to prepare most of it over there. Aunt Lilly also wanted to make sure the clothes didn’t need any mending. She said to handle them carefully when we take them off.”

  Caleb couldn’t stop the grin at the image Lilly’s words created. The pink that tinged Becci’s cheeks told him he wasn’t the only one who was reading more into Lilly’s instructions than she’d meant.

  “The material is old, and as much as I’d love to slip each of those tiny buttons free, I’m afraid I would destroy the dress. Maybe we’d better meet here in ten minutes.”

  “Five minutes,” Becci said, already removing the cameo and slipping the first of the tiny buttons free.

  Stunned by her straightforwardness, Caleb swallowed hard. “Ten,” he repeated. “It will take us that long to properly take care of these clothes. I’ll lay Obadiah’s things neatly on Miss Lilly’s bed, take Jacobs his supper, and be waiting for you down here.”

  He backed up a step, hooked his suspenders with one hand, and lifted the top hat a fraction with the other. He resettled it in a simple farewell gesture and left.

  CALEB SHUT THE shed door, sailed his hat in the direction of his bed, and set Jacobs’s dinner on one of the boxes lining the walls. He needed to get rid of some of the emotional turmoil boiling inside him before he returned to Becci, and he knew exactly what would do it.

  He knelt down beside his cot and pulled out a canvas-covered packet. He carefully laid out the finely honed and oiled tools on the cot. He’d returned last night with several small pieces of oak and pine that would be perfect for the little trinket box he planned to make for Becci.

  He’d laid aside the box he’d started for his Bible and started working on his gift for Becci. He’d worked almost all night and all his spare time during the day carving and buffing until the wood glowed with perfect, satin smoothness.

  Caleb checked the box for stray splinters, then turned it over and ran his finger over her name. The entwined letters flowed over the whole lid from one side to the other—Becci. Taking the smallest knife, he turned the box over and carved his initials on the bottom. The box would give her something to remember him by once he returned to his own time. He would give it to her tonight, after they made love.

  He worked the lid off and checked the padded lining made from a piece of silk Lilly had asked him to throw away. After carefully storing his tools, he took another piece of silk and wrapped the box. He set the gift beside his hat and reached for his journal.

  Before Caleb turned around, Jacobs slammed through the door. “Ya gotta help me,” Jacobs pleaded. “This is all yore fault. I thought I’s dreamin’. Or that the whiskey done rotted my thinkin’. So I decided to head on back to Raleigh cause the whiskey’s bad here. An’ I discovered this ain’t no dream.”

  Caleb stuffed his journal back into his saddlebags and faced the drunk, as Jacobs continued, “That man in that fancy ridin’ thing, well, he ain’t the only one that has one. I took on down toward town, and I found a whole bunch of them. You said you knew the way back. Jist tell me how to git there. I can’t take no more of this.”

  “What’s wrong?” Caleb shouldered his way around Jacobs. “Are you out of whiskey?” He set the plate of food on the makeshift table and handed Jacobs a fork.

  “No. I got plenty. But it ain’t good. I’m seein’ things. And not jist those fancy ridin’ things, either. Daylight in dark rooms by touching a square on the wall. And other things I’s can’t explain.”

  “Hold on. I told you this wasn’t a dream. If you have whiskey, what’s the need to go back to Raleigh?”

  “I’m scared.”

  Something didn’t sound right. As long as Jacobs had whiskey, he didn’t care what went on around him.

  “I understand that, but we have to take things a day at a time while I look for the medallion. I told you it’s the key to doorway home. Don’t you remember?”

  Jacobs nodded. “I remember all right. But what’s to keep ya from changin’ yore mind? Especially since ya is soft over this filly.”

  “I . . . ” He couldn’t lie. Going back was inevitable, but a part of him would remain with Becci forever. She filled a hollow spot in his heart that he hadn’t known existed. For the first time in his life, he felt whole.

  He roped his emotions and tie
d them securely in his heart. Becci was the dream the nuns had promised he would find. But they were wrong. He and Becci lived a world apart. This dream could never come true. It was a life fated to end before it flourished.

  “I have a promise to fulfill, and if I can’t save Rebecca, I’ll have a murderer to find.”

  “You git me the gold and I’ll go back and save the widder for you.”

  “I just bet you would.” Caleb tipped his head in the direction of the food he’d brought Jacobs. “You eat. We’ll go back when I say we go. I do know the way.”

  Jacobs grabbed the fork and shoveled in several bites of potatoes.

  “Here’s the plan,” Caleb said. “Saturday night, after everything is settled, I’ll get the medallion. You’ll stay here until I come get you. You have one order to obey. Be ready.”

  The muscles around his heart tightened. He would never hold Becci again. He would lose her just as he’d lost Luke.

  When he left, his heart would stay behind, and as much as he loved Luke, the boy would never be able to fill that empty space.

  “That little filly, Becci, will never love you,” Jacobs said. “No decent woman would take to a man with no daddy.”

  Caleb fought the anger that burned deep within his very soul. Becci wasn’t like the others. His past wouldn’t matter to her.

  Before he could respond, Jacobs said, “I . . . I think I’ll take my meal outside. The view is much purtier.” The man grabbed the plate and his bottle of whiskey and shouldered his way out the door.

  Lightning flashed on the horizon, outlining the drunk’s stooped shoulders as he headed down the hill. A storm would hit soon.

  Caleb picked up the silk-wrapped package and gave it one final inspection. He needed to write a note to put inside it. Something special.

  “WHERE ARE YOU? Why haven’t you come to me?” Becci whispered.

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and made another methodical trip from the family room to the kitchen. Stopping beside the kitchen table, she gazed out the bay window toward the shed as she’d done each time before. Ten minutes had turned into twenty. Caleb still hadn’t appeared.