A Husband in Time (12 page)

She opened the cupboard, saw Cody's New York Giants mug, felt her knees try to buckle. But she stiffened them by sheer force of will, blinked her eyes dry. She'd have her Cody back.

Something warm brushed her leg, and she glanced down to see the stray cat, rubbing against her. “I suppose you might as well stay,” she said, reaching down to scratch its ears. “You'll be a nice surprise for Cody, when he gets back.” She straightened, frowning. Then returned to the cupboards for a couple of cans of tuna and a pair of bowls. She emptied the fish into one bowl and filled the other with water,
placing both on the floor. “Just in case I have to leave,” she said, stroking the feline's head as it dove into the food with relish.

She opened the back door just slightly, so the cat could get out should the need arise.

“Jane!” Zach bellowed from upstairs. “I have something!”

Gripping a plate in each hand, Jane raced for the stairs.

She half expected to see a wormhole straight out of a science-fiction film hovering in the air in the center of the room. What she saw instead, as she burst through the bedroom door, was Zach bending over the computer, peering through his specs at the screen.

“What is it?” she said, crossing the room and setting one of the plates on the desk in front of him.

“The side effects. I'm almost certain Cody won't suffer from them. Look at this.” He pointed at the screen. “I hadn't completed my testing when I came through. Mainly because…I was running out of time. But I had done some, and Cody and I transferred all of the data to this machine. This program he…uh…downfed—”

“Downloaded,” Jane corrected him.

“It's amazing. It finds correlations I wouldn't even have thought to look for.”

“Break it down for me, Zach. Cut to the chase.”

He frowned up at her, but went on. “To put it simply, Jane, the larger the object, the greater the side effects. I suffered pronounced ill effects, but Cody is a lot smaller than I am. If these calculations are correct, then it stands to reason—”

“He isn't sick.”

“No. No, I don't think he is.”

Jane closed her eyes as every muscle in her body seemed to uncoil in relief. “If he isn't sick, then he'll be fine until we get to him. I know he will.”

Zach nodded, but she noticed that his smile was less than sincere. Sadness and worry clouded his eyes. “You're thinking you wish you could be so certain about Benjamin, aren't you?”

“Are you a mind reader, Jane?”

She pushed his plate closer to him, then gently reached up to remove the glasses from his face. “Eat, Zach. Rest your eyes. And tell me about your Benjamin.”

He closed his eyes. “If I lose him…”

Her hand cupped his cheek. “You're not going to lose him,” she said, repeating his earlier reassuring words to him, almost verbatim. “I promise.”

Zach covered her hand with his own and drew it around to his mouth, so that he could press his lips to her palm. “You're a treasure, Jane Fortune.”

“Eat,” she said.

So he did.

C
ody hid out in a sagging, creaking barn a few miles down the road from his house…er, Zach's house. Whatever. He wasn't sure what had happened to the barn, but he knew it was no longer standing in 1997. And it didn't surprise him. The way the building leaned to one side and drooped in the middle, and the amount of wind managing to find its groaning way through the cracks, were enough to tell him the thing wasn't exactly new, even now. It wasn't ready to fall down around him or anything—he hoped—but the barn was
old.
And if it was old now, in 1897, then it must be
really
old. Maybe even as old as the Revolutionary War. Imagine that!

He didn't have as much time to think about the wonder of it as he would have liked. Later, he told himself. For now, he had something even more important to think about.

The bottle of pills in his pocket jiggled every time he moved, and Cody bit his lip as the sound reminded him sharply of the responsibility he'd taken on. It was a heavy burden weighing on him. But one he wouldn't turn away from. He'd come here to help Benjamin. It was up to him, and only him, to save that little guy's life. And now he couldn't do it, because of those crabby scientists at the house. Was he
going to let that stop him? Well, if he did, then the boy he'd already begun to think of as the closest thing to a little brother he would ever have was going to die. Maybe he'd die soon. Maybe he was dying right now.

Cody knew that he was putting his own life at risk by trying to save Benjamin. But he didn't have a doubt that he'd be all right, somehow. Mom was always saying that kids his age believe themselves to be immortal. Maybe she was right. All Cody knew for sure was that helping Ben was the right thing to do. Ben even had the same name as Cody's great grandfather. If that wasn't a sign that he was meant to be part of Cody's family, then he didn't know what was. Benjamin Bolton was going to be Cody's brother. He knew that beyond any doubt, though it made no sense to feel this strongly about it. It wasn't logical or scientific. It was just there, a gut-deep certainty that he couldn't convince himself to doubt. He had to help Benjamin. But how?

Cody closed his eyes and bit his lip. “Mom, what should I do? What should I do?” he whispered into the darkness.

Be smart, Cody. Use your head.

Cody's eyes flashed open, and he looked around him, half expecting to see his pretty mom standing nearby. She wasn't, of course. He was all alone in a big, empty, dark barn, with nothing but the groaning and whistling of the wind in his ears, its cold caress reaching in to chill him through all those cracks, and the musty, sour smell of old hay. Only…he didn't
feel
quite as all alone as he had before.

 

It was supposed to have been a brief five-minute rest. When Jane consented to lean back against the headboard, and Zach settled down next to her, barely able to keep his eyes opened, they'd agreed to a quick, short break. Then right back to work. He didn't know when her eyes had fallen closed or how she could have managed to fall asleep at all, as worried as she was about her son. But she had. She'd drifted off as he was talking through his theory about why he was able to move through time. Boring to her, he supposed. If it had occurred to him that he could bore her into getting a bit of rest, he'd have attempted it sooner. The poor woman was on the verge of collapse, her exhaustion more emotional than physical, he knew. And now, though he ought to be working on the device, he simply didn't have the heart to wake her. And if he moved at all, he'd probably do just that. Because timid Jane Fortune was virtually twined around him. A situation he'd fantasized about several times since making the lady's acquaintance, but made come true only once. And once, Zach mused, fell a great deal short of being enough.

He let his eyes roam her relaxed face. A hundred times wouldn't be enough, he realized with a shiver of alarm tickling up his spine. Now what was it about her that made her so attractive to him, that drew him like the lure of the sirens? If only things were different. If only he had the time to find out.

She'd slid lower in the bed, until her head rested in the crook of his neck. Her arms had crept around his waist, and one leg, bent at the knee, held his thigh captive beneath it.

The entire situation worried Zach. Because he wasn't responding the way he normally would. He wasn't sitting here devising seemingly innocent methods of touching her. Or of arousing her enough in her sleep to leave her pliant and willing when she awoke. Though his skills at both tricks were up to the challenge, he felt oddly reluctant to use them. Instead, he found himself content to simply hold her, look at her. Smell her. Feel her warmth seeping into him wherever she touched him. And know that she was getting some much-needed relief from the horror of the nightmare they seemed to be trapped within, together.

He tilted his head as he considered that. Here, wrapped in his arms—in a bed, no less—was a woman he wanted. Quite possibly—no, most certainly—more than he'd ever wanted another. And here he was doing nothing to capitalize on the predicament. It was damned unlike him. Yes, the situation was dire, but he'd never been one to let that interfere before. A bit of physical exertion would do his stress level a world of good, he thought rather sardonically.

Moving very slowly and carefully, he reached for the device, and the screwdriver, and his notes, spreading all of them upon the bed, where they wouldn't interfere with her rest. He grabbed for his spectacles lastly, and perched them on his nose. And then he began to work, reattaching the broken bits to the device, one by one.

Jane sighed, and shifted lower. Her head slipped down to his lap, her hand settling on his hip. Zach pulled his spectacles down onto his nose and peered
over the tops of them at her, curled up and sleeping peacefully there, facedown in his… Lord have mercy. If his reaction to
that
didn't wake her, he didn't think anything would.

 

Something hard was pressing into her cheek. Jane grumbled in her sleep, doubling up her fist to punch the lump out of her pillow and refusing to open her eyes. A hand closed over hers before she could carry out the plan. “Uh-uh, none of that.”

“Hmm?” She opened her eyes, lifted her head a little and saw what she'd been lying on. Her eyes widened, and she looked up fast, into a pair of twinkling dark brown eyes.
“Zach.”

“What? You're the one with your face nestled in my…” He let his eyes finish the sentence for him. Then reached out to stroke a gentle hand over her hair, and there was something besides lust in his eyes. Something that made her stomach turn over. “You'll never know how much I wish I had more time, Jane. You'll never, never know….”

She didn't know how to respond to that. So she said nothing. Just held his eyes with hers, and wished she could see what he was thinking. Wished… But wait. What did he mean? He sounded as if… Her gaze darted to the device on the bed beside him.

“Zach?”

He nodded, and picked up the black box. “Look at this,” he whispered. He pointed the thing, pressed a button, and the tiny pinprick of light appeared in the center of the bedroom.

“My God,” she whispered, her heart leaping in her chest. “My God, it's working. You fixed it.”

“I think so.”

“What do you mean, you think so?” She sat up, got to her feet and took a step closer to the light. “You're not sure?”

“No, I'm not at all sure.”

“Then—”

“Wait.” He adjusted the dial, and the light grew larger, brighter. Zach got up, gripped her arm and pulled her away as the sphere of illumination took up more and more space in the room. When it extended beyond the ceiling, and through the floor, the light began to take on distinctive shades, and forms hovered on the other side of a swirling mist. The sphere became a mirror, reflecting the room back at them, minus the modern furniture and new wallpaper and electric fixtures. It was the same room, a hundred years ago.

“Look,” Zach whispered. “The calendar, there on the wall.”

He pointed, and Jane saw the page, with each date methodically crossed off as it passed. “I believe we've done it. We've found the doorway to the exact day before I left. And I'm certain this is where Cody came through.”

Jane blinked, shaking her head. “But…but if it's
before
you left, then—then you're there?
And
here? You… There are two of you? Zach, what if—”

“I don't know. I don't know if the past me will be there or not, Jane. I should be all right as long as I don't confront him…er, me.” He clasped her shoulders, turned her toward him. “Jane, I have to go now.” And, to her surprise, his eyes seemed damp. “Saying goodbye to you…saying good
bye…” He shook his head, apparently giving up on words. Instead of speaking, he pulled her tight to his chest, and kissed her. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, for a very long time. And Jane found herself kissing him back, slipping her hands up to his shoulders and parting her lips in invitation, and pressing her body tight to his. Before, they'd had passion, desperation, desire. This…this was different. This was emotion…so much emotion that it took her breath away.

Could it be that he…?

He lifted his head away, turning toward the light. Jane gave herself a mental shake, trying desperately to swim her way to the surface of the pool of feeling she'd nearly drowned in just now. She blinked twice, and cleared her throat, but her voice was hoarse all the same. “I don't know what you're thinking, Bolton, but you can think again. My son is back there. I'm going with you.”

He shook his head. “The side effects…”

“I'm a little more than half your weight, Zach. I'll be fine. Besides, as you told me earlier, that's not a consideration.”

“It's not safe. Not even necessary. Jane, I'll take care of Cody as if he were my own, you know I will. I love the boy.” He frowned after he said that, as if the words had surprised him. But then his brow cleared, and he nodded once. “I love the boy. He'll be safe with me, and as soon as the device recharges, I'll send him back to you.”

“I'm going with you.”

He searched her face, shook his head. “I can't let you risk it.”

“It isn't your decision.” Jane pulled from his
strong grip so suddenly that he was taken by surprise. She didn't waste a second, just spun around and ran directly into the light. There was the sensation of being squeezed until she felt like a turtle under a truck tire, and then sudden relief as she hit the floor. Or the floor hit her. Like a two-by-four in the face, swung by a giant.

Zach landed beside her with a crash, and lay there on his side, hands pressed to his head, face twisted in a grimace of anguish. The box hit the floor beside him, and then the light blinked out.

Jane tried to stand, and was surprised when a wave of dizziness washed over her, sending her right back to her knees again. Her brain sloshed as if she'd been drinking too much. Her vision was spotty, and her balance way off kilter. Lord, what a frightening sensation!

But Zach…Zach was still on the floor. He'd rolled onto his back now, and lay there, eyes squeezed tight, palms pressing the sides of his head.

“Zach?” Jane knelt beside him, battling her own reactions, because his were obviously far worse. “Hang on, Zach. Hang on, okay? Zach?”

His eyes opened, focused on her without recognition. Blank. Utterly blank. His brows came together, and he stared at her. “I know you,” he said weakly, blinking his vision into focus, and taking in the surroundings. His gaze fell upon the box on the floor, and narrowed as he struggled to sit up. But then he was looking at her again. He reached for her, touched her hair as his eyes probed hers. “I know you,” he repeated. “I know your face, and your
scent and the taste of your lips. And I know there's no other woman in the world quite like you. Wait…”

“Jane, I'm Jane,” she said, but her voice was a bit breathless, in reaction to those words. She gave herself a mental kick. He was confused, disoriented. “Come on, Zach, I need you now.”

“Jane,” he muttered, lying back down as if for a little nap. She quite understood the feeling. She shared it. Exhaustion. Jet lag to the tenth power. “Come back to bed, Jane.”

She took his face between her hands, slapping his cheeks several times. “Zach, come on. Wake up, this is an emergency.”

He opened his eyes. “Darling, you're insatiable….”

“Benjamin, Zach. Cody. Remember?”

“Benja—” He blinked, and the dazed expression left his face. “Benjamin. My son!” He sat up, paused to give his head a shake, then gripped her outstretched hand and struggled to his feet. He paused, blinking down at his hand, still surrounding hers. “Jane…yes…” He lifted his gaze to hers. “I'm sorry.”

“It's the portal. It does something to your mind, Zach. It isn't your fault.”

“We're a day early,” he whispered. “Jane, I can't run into…into the other Zach—if he exists. I can't. I've no idea what would happen if I did.”

“Well…think, Zach. Where were you at—” she glanced around the room, found the mantel clock and went on “—5:30 p.m., on the night before…”

“The night before my son slipped into a coma?”
Zach finished for her. “I was at his bedside. Nothing could make me leave.”

And as he said it, the two of them turned, gazes falling on the tiny, sleeping child in the big bed, and the empty chair beside him. “Well, something apparently made you leave tonight,” she whispered.

He staggered away from her, to the bedside, bent over and brushed his lips over his son's forehead. Benjamin slept soundly, not even stirring. And Jane's eyes burned as she moved closer and looked down at his pale face and red curly hair, at the freckles scattered across his nose. Just like Cody.