Keeper of the Key

by Barbara Christopher

  “The medallion isn’t of any real value. It will only bring about your death if you try to keep it,” Caleb cautioned as Jacobs snatched it up by the chain.

  “Yore lyin’. You jist want it fer yoreself.”

  “It’s not mine. It belongs to Rebecca,” Caleb said softly.

  “Not no more. She’s dead. So I guess that makes it mine for the takin’.”

  “No. It goes in the dresser for Rebecca’s namesake.”

  Rebecca’s namesake. My Becci.

  A different type of pain ripped through him. He would never see Becci again. At least his sweet memories of her hadn’t been lost in time.

  Jacobs reached for the knife. Caleb caught him by the wrist, but his mind wasn’t on the fight. He didn’t want to live without Becci. Would she remember him? Would she read his journal and know he loved her?

  Jacobs threw his elbow into Caleb, knocking him to his back. Then he swept the knife off the floor and swung it toward Caleb. Instinctively, Caleb caught the drunk’s wrist in both hands, stopping the downward trail of the blade.

  His arms shook with the tension of holding the point away. He could feel the blood oozing from the wound in his shoulder, whittling at his strength.

  Jacobs was going to win.

  He would never see Becci again.

  The point came closer, aiming straight for his neck.

  Once the blade pierced the vein at his neck the end would come quickly. He would never again be able to tell Becci he loved her. Never get the chance to hold her. He only hoped that she would find someone to love and the happiness she and he were destined to never share.

  The knife crept closer, its tip only a fraction away from piercing his neck. “I love you, Becci,” he whispered as the last of his strength faded, and he surrendered to fate.

  A RAW PRIMITIVE grief squeezed at Becci’s heart. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Why hadn’t she told Caleb she loved him with all her heart?

  As hard as she tried to remain calm, she couldn’t. A tremor shook her hands as she brushed a kink from the ruffled edge of the curtains and straightened the small dish on the nightstand. Clenching her fists together, she brought them to her chest as deep, shuddering sobs racked her insides.

  What would she do without him?

  Michael waited downstairs with pen and paper in hand. If she signed she wouldn’t have the burdens connected with the family home. She had the means to keep the house now, but without Caleb it meant nothing.

  She picked up both the tiny cube Caleb had carved for her and his journal. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared out the window, recalling what he’d said when he’d given her the box.

  I don’t have much, but I love you, Becci. I love you with all my heart.

  She traced the letters that formed her name. The spoken words had been hard for him to express, but at that moment she’d felt more loved than at any other time in her life. He’d been with her for almost five weeks. He’d held her, kissed her, and loved her, but he’d never promised her more than the moment. He’d told her he had a promise to keep—a child to raise and a woman to support.

  A shudder rippled through her, and she clutched the two items Caleb had left behind to her chest.

  Caleb was gone. Gone.

  Don’t panic. Remain calm and be patient, Becci.

  The thoughts floated through her mind with a soft sternness that made the air vibrate with a fierce intensity.

  Becci drew in a deep breath. How could she relax when all she could do was relive the incidents of the last few minutes?

  One moment Caleb and Jacobs had been struggling over the knife, and the next they’d plummeted through the door. Their image had frozen for an instant, and then they’d disappeared.

  Becci flipped on the lamp, set the journal and the trinket box down and ran her fingertip over the hand-carved “B” that adorned each piece of furniture. The journals said Caleb had made the furniture for her namesake. Did Rebecca really hide gold in the secret compartments of the other furniture?

  Her heart raced. Apprehension gripped her. She didn’t dare look, not with Michael in the house.

  “Becci?”

  Oh Lord, Michael! She couldn’t let him find the journal or the medallion. She had to hide them, but where?

  She jerked open the bottom drawer, shoved the trinket box to the far back corner and slipped the journal under a stack of shorts. It was the best she could do for now.

  “Where’s Jacobs?” Michael called up from the foot of the stairs, a note of anger lacing his voice.

  “Jacobs?” Why would he ask for Jacobs? He hadn’t even met the man, had he?

  “He vanished.” Her words sounded so final. “Caleb, too.”

  Disappeared, as if they’d never been. Again her chest tightened and tears filled her eyes, blurring everything before her.

  She could feel Caleb’s presence in the hall. The caress of his eyes fanned the flames of desire just as they had when they’d shared his supper down by the lake. She sensed the excitement and fear, the hope and the regret. But most of all she felt the love that had flourished between them. In one night he had shown her what it meant to be cherished.

  “I love you, Caleb Harrison,” Becci declared. “I’ll keep the door open for you for as long as it takes. Please come back. Please.”

  She repeated the words like a mantra, wishing with all her heart that he would return, and knowing that she had no control over the time portal.

  Nothing would bring him back if he didn’t want to return.

  CALEB WAITED FOR the knife to deliver the final wound. Instead, he heard a loud crack echo through the hall. Jacobs’ eyes widened as a cry of pain hissed from between his clenched teeth, and he went stiff-backed. His body jerked convulsively, and his hand opened. For a fraction of a second the knife teetered on his palm before clattering to the floor. He stared down at Caleb with shock, and then he fell forward.

  “Rebecca?” Caleb whispered. Had she come to his rescue? “Rebecca,” he called again, drawing in a shaky breath. The acrid smell of gunpowder mixed with the soft scent of lavender. Luke’s hoarse cry echoed from downstairs.

  “Caleb.” Rebecca’s pain-riddled voice beckoned him. “Caleb . . . ”

  “I’m here, Rebecca. I’m here,” Caleb muttered, pushing himself to a sitting position. Pain slashed through his shoulder when he moved. But he ignored it as he dragged himself to where Rebecca lay on the floor, the dueling pistol she’d used on Jacobs on the floor beside her.

  “Luke . . . get Luke,” she gasped, grabbing his sleeve with one hand while pressing the other to her chest. Blood covered her slender fingers and trickled down her arm to drip onto her dress.

  “Please, take him with you.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Rebecca.” Caleb took her hand and brought it to his lips before laying it on his knee. He slipped off his shirt, gently lifted the hand from her chest and covered the wound with the soft material.

  “Please.” Rebecca’s words poured out between deep gasps of breath. “Get Luke. Take care of him.”

  “I will, Rebecca. I will.”

  “Oh, dear Lord, I’m so sorry.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Shh. Save your strength, Mary Rebecca.”

  Rebecca clutched at his shirt and drew in a sharp gasp. Whether for courage or from pain, he didn’t know. Her voice was barely a whisper, and Caleb leaned forward to hear her.

  “This is all yours now,” she whispered. “Now you have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

  “No,” Caleb whispered back.

  “No,” she agreed. Her eyelids fluttered open. She rolled her head in a weak gesture toward the bedroom. “She can be yours, too. If that’s what you choose.”

  Caleb glanced at the muted image of the future. His future if he
wanted it, and he nodded in understanding. Becci’s transparent form hovered so close yet so far away.

  He loved her. He didn’t want to lose her, but he’d made a promise to Saul.

  “You must choose. Make your choice from here,” she said resting her hand against his chest. “Do it quickly. If she leaves the room, the door will close forever. But remember, nothing is for certain.”

  “I can’t go to her. I promised to look after Luke. He needs me here.”

  Rebecca expelled a pain-riddled gasp. “Take him with you.”

  “Oh, Rebecca, I can’t. The pain would kill him.”

  Rebecca coughed and swallowed hard. “No, it was Jacobs who caused the disruption. Go to her. Take Luke with you.”

  Caleb watched Becci. She was clutching the small trinket box to her chest. Did she love him? How could he even consider burdening her with a ready-made family?

  Rebecca expelled an anguished cry. “Hold me, Caleb. Hold me. I don’t want to die alone. I’m so alone.”

  “I’m here. I’ll stay with you,” Caleb said, gently lifting her to his chest. He ignored the pain that sliced through his shoulder and rocked her gently.

  “Kiss Luke for me,” she murmured, then she drew in one sharp breath, and her arm slid down Caleb’s chest to hang limply at her side.

  Tears slid down Caleb’s cheeks. He held her tightly for a moment then said, “I will, Mary Rebecca. I’ll kiss him for you.”

  He eased her to the floor. Wind howled through the house, and Caleb looked down the long flight of steps to the entry hall. Eli’s and Saul’s portraits were the only two lining the walls, but in the future six ancestral portraits would be displayed in the stairwell gallery.

  Luke’s should have been next, but he’d seen the future. Obadiah had stolen Luke’s inheritance. The only way he would have what was rightfully his would be to take him to the future. To Becci.

  He caught the handrail and pulled himself up. The movement caused a wave of dizziness to sweep over him. He’d lost too much blood, and his vision blurred. He fought to clear his head. If he didn’t get Luke to Becci, Ascott would win. He wouldn’t let Jacobs or Ascott take away Luke’s future or his.

  He glanced toward the bedroom. Becci stood a few feet from the threshold and his heart skipped a beat. She was leaving the room. He had to get to her, but he couldn’t leave Luke behind.

  “No. Becci, please. Wait for me,” he pleaded knowing his words were several lifetimes too far away for her to hear.

  He hurried down the steps. Luke’s cry came from the parlor. He found the boy, scooped him up, and stumbled back up the stairs. Each step took its toll on his waning energy.

  As they reached the top landing, Luke screamed and reached for Rebecca.

  “I’m sorry,” Caleb whispered and turned away. He could only hope Luke would love Becci as much as he’d loved his mother.

  Caleb moved toward the threshold. Luke snuggled against his chest. One more step. His hand touched the frame. Oh, Lord. Where was the key? Without it he couldn’t reach Becci.

  “Noooo!” he cried as she inched closer to the door.

  He tightened his hold on Luke and shoved himself toward Jacobs. “Where is it?” he yelled as he shifted Luke into his injured arm, grabbed Jacobs by the shoulder and rolled him over. The coin wasn’t there. He quickly glanced at the door. Becci’s hand rested on the shimmering edge of the portal, and panic wrapped its fingers around his throat.

  He was losing her. Only two steps separated her from the doorway. Without realizing what she was doing, she would lock him in the past and seal his fate. The thin thread of love he’d tried to grasp was slowly slipping away from him. Even if he had the medallion in his hand there would not be enough time for Luke and him to cross over before she passed through the doorway.

  Lightning flashed. Caleb caught the flicker of something at the edge of the balcony. Another flash illuminated the hall, sending a glittering beam off the thin, bright chain. Hope gathered inside him, but as he reached for the medallion, it fell over the edge of the balcony.

  He lunged for it as the last inch rolled over the edge.

  Twenty-three

  BECCI WIPED THE moisture from her cheeks and stared at the rainbow reflection around the door. It glowed in an eerie rippling circle, and she recalled that Caleb had told her she wasn’t supposed to go through the door as long as there were lights around it. But Michael was calling her, and if she didn’t go downstairs, he’d come up here. She didn’t want him near her bedroom

  With hesitant steps, she moved across the room to the door. A noise stopped her. It sounded like Caleb’s voice, calling out for her to wait. Turning to make a quick sweeping glance around the room, she turned back to the door.

  “Caleb?” she called. “Caleb, are you there?”

  Silence greeted her.

  She hadn’t really expected an answer. It was just wishful thinking that made her believe she’d heard him. She took another step toward the entry. New tears rolled down her cheeks. He was really gone.

  Her hand touched the door frame just as a gust of wind whipped through the room and sent the curtains flapping. If it was going to rain, she needed to close the window and check the other rooms before heading downstairs.

  To keep Michael from coming upstairs, she yelled, “I’ll be down in a minute, Michael.”

  She crossed to the window and leaned her forehead against the cool pane. She’d been about to close the window the first time she saw Caleb. Dropping to her knees, she clutched her waist and bent forward. Caleb was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

  Life would go on.

  Time would go on.

  The hall floor creaked under the weight of cautious footsteps. Becci cringed. She wouldn’t be alone much longer. Michael was coming despite her effort to keep him away.

  She pushed herself to her feet just as she heard shoe leather brush the hardwood flooring behind her. Knowing she had to be strong, she wiped at her tears, determined not to let Michael see her crying. She didn’t want to confront him yet, but how could she avoid him?

  “Go away,” Becci ordered without looking back.

  A warm, masculine hand closed around her shoulders. The gentle caress sent a ripple of longing to her heart. Only Caleb could create the hunger she felt radiating from the fingers gently feathering over her skin. Only he created this longing for love and the protection she’d never experienced except with him.

  But Caleb was gone, and it was Michael’s touch she felt.

  With a slight squeeze, a warm hand reached around, turned her head and lifted her chin with one finger and Becci gasped. “Caleb? Oh, Caleb! Is it really you?”

  He circled her with his free arm and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Darling, I would like for you to meet my godson, Luke. I promised Rebecca I would keep him safe. He’s an orphan now. I’m all he has, and I’ll understand if you don’t want . . . If you . . . ” Caleb swallowed around the lump in his throat.

  Luke took a shuddering breath, and Becci reached up and wiped away a single tear that trickled down his cheek.

  “Oh, Caleb, he’s beautiful. I . . . ” Tears flooded her eyes. She wanted to tell him she would gladly be Luke’s godmother if Caleb would stay here and marry her. But was he here to stay? She had to be sure before she made a fool of herself.

  She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed Caleb on the cheek. He tightened his hold around her waist and returned her kiss.

  Lightning, followed by the crack of thunder, jarred them apart. Rain pelted the glass and without taking his eyes off Becci, Caleb reached behind her and forced the window down.

  Becci pulled his head down until their lips met. “Oh, Caleb, I thought I’d lost you forever.”

  Caleb held her close for a few moments. Then he stared down at her. Her dark emerald eyes told him wha
t he wanted to know. She loved him. He brushed a kiss to each corner of her mouth.

  “If you’d walked through that door I wouldn’t have been able to come back. But you didn’t, and I’m here. We’re here, and I love you, Becci. I can’t believe I found you, and now that I have, I am not going to lose you.”

  Had she heard him correctly? Had he said he loved her? Was he here to stay?

  For the first time she noticed he was bare-chested, and she ran her fingers over the scar he’d received in his fight with Jacobs. The wound had become a scar that would be an ever-present reminder of how close she’d come to losing him.

  “If it weren’t for this scar, I wouldn’t have thought any of this had really happened. But it did,” Caleb said as he placed his hand over Becci’s.

  “Yeah. It did,” Michael said from the doorway. “You know, when Becci said you and Jacobs disappeared, I thought you were gone for good. I’m really glad you decided to come back.”

  Caleb handed Luke to Becci and moved them both behind him. He had no problem recognizing the gun for what it was. He would forfeit his own life before he let Ascott take Becci or Luke’s life the way he’d taken Elizabeth’s.

  “What do you want?” Becci demanded, scooting around Caleb.

  “The medallion. Hand it over.”

  “The medallion belongs to Becci,” Caleb said, stalling. If he gave Ascott the medallion, would the man kill them?

  “Stop delaying the inevitable,” Ascott ordered. “Give me the medallion.”

  Caleb turned to Luke and Becci. He ran his finger down Luke’s soft cheek then faced Becci. The decision would be hers. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the medallion, letting it swing between them.

  “I don’t need the medallion, Becci. The power it represents isn’t worth losing you, but think about what I’m asking of you. Luke and I come as a pair. Do you want the responsibility of a child and the extra burden of a man who isn’t trained to earn a living in this time?”

  She ran her hand down the chain and let the brilliant circle rest against her fingertips. He knew what she would do before she spoke. It was written in the sparkling depths of her green eyes.