A Husband in Time (14 page)

Jane's heart broke into bits, and she pulled the little boy more upright in the bed, holding him gently and rubbing his back until the spasm eased. And when it did, the little arms encircled her neck. “I'll be a good son, Mother. I promise.”

Jane couldn't let him go for a long moment. The
tears that were streaming down her face as she held him there were not anything such a sick little angel needed to see or to be worrying about. Zach saw them, though, and his own eyes were red-rimmed and brimming when they met hers. She held Benjamin in her arms until she could get her tears under control, and then she carefully wiped at her cheeks before straightening away from him.

“You can go and get my cocoa now,” he said softly, closing his eyes and lying down. “I'll be fine. I know I will, now.”

When Zach nodded at her and inclined his head toward the door, Jane walked slowly away from Benjamin's bedside, and she knew beyond any doubt that there had to be a way to save this child, and hers, too. There had to be. And she'd find it or die trying.

She followed Zach down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he set a kettle on a wood-burning stove, and then chucked a couple of bits of wood on the grate. He stood there for a moment, head bowed, back to her.

And she went to him, compelled to do so. She slipped her arms around his waist from behind, and lowered her head against his back. “We'll make him all right, Zach. I swear to you, we'll make him well again.”

He turned and wrapped his arms around her, pulled her tight and lowered his face into her hair. She felt the tears, understood them all too well. “We have to,” he whispered.

C
ody waited until he heard the muted footsteps fade. Whoever had been in the room had left, gone down the stairs. Now was his chance. He slipped out of the closet, hurried back down the hallway to Benjamin's room and ducked inside, closing the door behind him.

Benjamin sat up, blinking at him. It looked like he was awfully tired. But he smiled at Cody all the same.

“Hi, Ben,” Cody said, coming forward and feeling uncomfortable as all heck. He wasn't sure exactly what to say, how to act. “I'm—”

“My second wish?” The little guy blinked at him.

“Cody Fortune.” Cody thrust out a hand, and moved closer to the bed.

Ben looked at Cody's hand, and slowly shook his head. “You better not. I'm sick, you know.”

“I know.” Cody sat down in the big chair. “But I had it already. You can only catch it once.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You had it?” Ben sat up a little straighter in the bed. “But you're okay now?”

“Sure.”

Ben shook his head slowly. “My dad had it once,
and he got better, too. But…that's almost unheard-of. I heard them say so.”

“They don't know it,” Cody said, glancing quickly at the door, and then back at the boy in the bed. “Nobody here knows about it but me, but there's a medicine, and it works.”

Ben closed his eyes. “I wish it were true,” he said softly. “I'm so tired of feeling bad all the time.”

“It is true,” Cody said, and he fished the small brown bottle of pills from his jeans pocket and held it up. “This is the stuff, right here. I brought it for you. I tried to get in earlier, but that lady wouldn't let me.”

“They don't let anybody see me, except the doctors and my dad, and Mrs. Haversham, of course. I haven't seen anyone except for grown-ups in weeks.” He eyed the bottle, and tilted his head. “My third wish,” he whispered, then looked at Cody, his eyes round and trusting. “It really will make me well again?”

“Yeah, but you have to take it right way. Every four hours, Ben, and you can't miss a single pill, or they'll all be wasted.”

Ben blinked, chewed his lip. “I sleep a lot,” he said. “I'd probably sleep right through a dose or two. Maybe if we told the grown-ups—”

“No way. Listen, Ben, they wouldn't believe me. They'd say I was a liar. And there's no way I can sneak in here every four hours to give you a pill. Heck, when I tried to get in before, they threatened to call the boys-in-blue on me.”

“Boys-in-blue?”

“Er…the sheriff.” Ben frowned and tilted his
head. “Look, Ben, I've been trying to figure this out for a while now, and as far as I can see, there's only one way we can do it.”

“How, Cody? I'd do anything to get better again.”

“You have to run away,” Cody said, deciding not to beat around the bush. Who knew when someone would walk in and haul him away by his earlobe? “Right now, tonight. I found a place where we can hide out. I'll take care of you, and make sure you get the pills on time.”

Ben's eyes widened. He took a breath, shook his head. “I don't know, Cody. How long will we have to stay?”

“Just a couple of days,” Cody said. “You'll have to take the pills for longer, but after two days you oughta be so much better that they'll have to believe us. At least well enough to take them on your own, without my help.”

“If I was that much better, they'd let you stay,” Ben said, and Cody thought he was thinking out loud. “My dad will be real worried if I up and leave, though.”

“Yeah, but think how happy he'll be when you turn up healthy and strong.”

Ben smiled a little. “Yeah, that would be something.”

“We have to hurry, Ben. Before someone comes in.”

Ben frowned. “I'm not very strong.”

“I'll carry you piggyback if I have to. Come on, you'll need some warm clothes. And we'll take a blanket, too.” As Cody spoke, he shook out a capsule, then put the cover back on the bottle and stuck
it in his pocket. He handed the capsule to Ben. “Better take the first one now. Just wash it down with some water.” As he said it, he poured water from the pitcher on the bedside stand, into the glass beside it. He handed the glass to Ben, and the boy obediently popped the pill into his mouth. It took him three tries, and he almost choked on it, but he finally swallowed it. Then he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

“My clothes are in there.” He pointed, and Cody opened the giant wardrobe and pulled out a heavy wool sweater and a pair of pants. Ben dressed, but he was clumsy and slow, and when he was finished he sank onto the bed, head hanging down, breathing hard.

“You really are weak,” Cody said. He knelt and pushed a pair of socks onto the younger boy's feet. Then shoved on a pair of odd-looking button-up shoes and went back to the closet for a coat.

“There. You're all set now.”

“Take another sweater, Cody,” Ben said, lifting his head long enough to speak. “You don't have a coat on. I have one in there that's way too big. It will fit you.”

Cody found the sweater Ben was referring to, and then balled up a blanket and tucked it under his arm. “You ready?”

“I guess so,” Ben said. He got to his feet, but swayed and almost fell down. Cody moved to his side and pulled Ben's arm around his shoulders.

“Let's go. Don't worry, Ben, this is gonna work.”

Ben nodded, and Cody opened the door and led him through the hallway, away from the stairs the
other two had descended. He knew the house well, and he knew there was a set of back stairs that led straight to the rear of the house and the back door. It was slow going. Ben could barely walk, but soon they emerged into the chilly, starry night.

Ben leaned on Cody, and took a deep breath. “Gosh, it's been so long since I've been outdoors.”

“I bet.”

“Where is our hideout, Cody?”

“The barn up the road. I was there earlier, and no one was around. It will be safe, I think. And there are plenty of places to hide if anyone should come snooping.”

Ben lifted his head and stared off at the barn in the distance. “I don't think…I can make it that far.”

“You have to, Ben. Come on, I know it's hard, but—”

“No, wait,” Ben argued. “Listen, I have a pony. In the shed, over there.”

Cody looked, and blinked in surprise. There was no shed in the yard in 1997. But one stood there now, right where the garage ought to be. Man, this was like the “Twilight Zone” or something. Nodding, he helped Ben make it across the lawn, eased him onto a bale of hay and opened the shed door.

A soft brown Shetland pony greeted him with a soft nicker and a toss of his shaggy head. Cody gripped the pony's halter and led him outside. And the animal went, stopping beside the hay where Ben sat and nudging the boy with his nose. Big brown eyes seemed to say that he knew exactly what was going on. And the animal stood perfectly still as Cody helped Ben onto his back.

“Good pony,” Cody said, taking the halter again and stroking the animal's muzzle.

“His name's Pete,” Ben informed him.

“I always wanted a pony.”

“Me too,” Ben said. “But I've been too sick to ride him for a long time.”

“Well, then, you oughta enjoy this.” Cody un-bunched the blanket and draped it around Ben's shoulders, tying a knot to hold it there. “Hang on, Ben, and holler if you need to stop.” He turned and led the pony and the boy across the back lawn and onto the road. Then he started down it toward the barn, and whispered a silent prayer that he wouldn't run into any horse-and-buggy travelers before he got Ben under cover.

 

Zach opened the door quietly, in case Benjamin had fallen asleep again. It had been a while, by the time he stoked the fire and heated the milk, and melted the chocolate and added the sugar. Nothing like the two-minute hot chocolate from Jane's time. But Ben was used to this. He knew how long hot chocolate took. Zach tiptoed into the room, the teacup brimming with chocolate in his hand. And then he froze, because the oil lamp on the table spilled its light onto an empty bed.

“Benjamin,” he called softly, scanning the room as his heart thumped harder in his chest. “Benjamin, where are you?”

Jane came in behind him, and he heard her swift intake of breath. “Zach?”

Zach turned to her, searching her eyes as if looking for an answer, though he knew she had no way of
knowing where his son had gone. “He was too weak to get out of that bed,” he told her. He set the cup down and dropped to his knees, searching under the bed, seeing nothing.

“Zach, the wardrobe…”

He turned and saw the door of his son's wardrobe hanging open. He pulled it farther, lifting the oil lamp and scanning the inside. “By God, his coat is gone!” Real fear was gripping him now. This made no sense. No sense at all.

Jane's hands came to Zach's shoulders, and he felt the warmth and the comfort of her touch, the calming energies she sent through him as if by magic. “Maybe he just got sick of lying in bed,” she whispered, and her soft voice conveyed the same soothing as her hands. “He could have decided to go outside, get some fresh air.”

“He could barely walk on his own, Jane.” He felt her tense as he got to his feet, turned toward the door.

“Look, I'll search this floor. You go and check all the rooms downstairs. If we don't find him—”

“If we don't find him, I'll lose him,” Zach said, and his voice was barely audible for its coarseness.

“You're not going to lose him.”

Zach looked down into her warm, wide eyes, and tried very hard to believe her. The panic in his chest seemed to still when she looked at him, spoke to him, when she touched him. Unfortunately, the second he was away from her, searching the ground floor of his home for his dying son, the panic returned. Jane Fortune ought to be pint-size, so he could carry her with him, wear her like a charm around his neck. When she was with him, he could be confident and opti
mistic, but as soon as she left his side he felt that gut-deep fear he'd been living with for so many months cast its dark shadow over his soul once more. When he'd searched every room without success, he raced outside and began searching the grounds. And when that was done, he searched the guest house, and then the shed.

He stood there, in the shed's open doorway, and a chill night wind buffeted him, tugging his hair into chaos and trying to drive the big wooden door from his hands. Pete, Ben's pony, had vanished, as well. And it seemed all the strength in Zach's body left him as he scanned the horizon, the deserted, dark road unrolling to his left and then the forested hillsides to his right. Ben could be anywhere. He let go of the door, and the wind slammed it back against the wood, then drew it away and slammed it again. It became a rhythm, a hopeless, steady rhythm.

“Hold on, Zachariah,” she said, and her voice was strong and firm. “We'll find him. I promise.”

That voice was like steel coated with velvet, and it was one he was beginning to think of as belonging to his guardian angel. It came from close to his ear, and Zach managed to pull himself to his feet again. Jane's arms came around him, and he held her the way a drowning man would cling to a bit of driftwood. “His pony's gone. God, Jane, he wasn't strong enough to ride for long. What if he took to the woods? What if he fainted and fell off? He could be lying out there somewhere, alone and afraid.”

“I don't think he's alone,” she told him, stroking his hair. “I have a feeling he's with Cody.”

Zach's head came up sharply, and he stared down
into her eyes. Hope surged in his chest. If Ben was with Cody… “What makes you think that?”

“Well, you just said he was too weak to walk very far on his own. I can't imagine him having the strength to come all the way out here and climb onto that pony's back, can you?”

He blinked, then shook his head. She made it sound so logical, so simple. “No. No, I can't,” he said.

“And who else do you suppose would have helped him? Zach, we already know that Cody overheard us arguing about this the other night. That's why he came back here, because he thought we might not. I know my son. He's trying to save Ben, because he thinks he's the only one who can. He took the pills when he left. It's obvious he intended to give them to Benjamin. And that's probably precisely what he's doing, even as we speak.”

Zach gazed past her, out into the pitch-black night, and he shivered at another gust of that cold wind. “But that's all conjecture, Jane. You can't know—”

“Call it mother's intuition. I'm ninety-nine percent certain.”

Zach closed his eyes. The panic ebbed, now that he had Jane's explanation to cling to. He envisioned Benjamin warm and snug, unafraid because he was in the company of Cody Fortune, already beginning to feel the effects of the drug Cody would, no doubt, have given him by now.

Thank God for Jane.

The wind picked up still-greater force, bringing doubt along with it. “It's so damned cold tonight.” Then he opened his eyes again at the sounds of
voices coming from the house, and when he looked, he saw the glow of oil lamps in nearly every window. “What's—?”

“I woke Mrs. Haversham, and the other maid. One of them woke the groundskeeper, and he's heading into town to get more help. We'll have a search party formed within the hour, Zach. We'll find them both, no doubt safe and sound somewhere, and probably feeling bad for worrying us all so much.”

He sighed involuntarily. “You're a wonder, Jane. An absolute wonder.”

She took his arm and drew it around her shoulders as they started back toward the house.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the wind held steady, blowing her hair into a riot of silken curls that caressed his face. “Damn,” he said. “That storm is moving in already. We have to hurry, Jane—it's going to be a brutal one.” He knew, having witnessed its force once already. The thought of his son exposed to such powerful, elemental forces scared the hell out of him. Jane trembled, and he knew she was frightened right to the soul of her for the safety of the two boys, as well. But she wouldn't admit it, would she? Not now, when things were so uncertain.