Yesterday's Magic (12 page)

“Steady.”

He looked up, wanting to see her face when he
asked the next question. “Did you manage to get out for your noon
meal?”

“Why Sheriff, are you concerned that I’m
going to waste away to nothing?” she asked. “Or perhaps be too weak
to dance?”

She was something. “I just know that Freida
has trouble getting away at times,” he said.

“I didn’t need lunch. Aunt Freida fixed me a
huge breakfast,” she added. “I did step out for some fresh air a
few minutes ago.”

Yancy had said she’d been inside the saloon.
The air wasn’t usually all that fresh there. “I had my share of
fresh air today,” he said. If he could get the conversation to
continue, she’d eventually make a slip. Everybody did when they
were edging around the truth.

“Well, I’d understand if you’re too tired to
go tonight.”

Was she hoping that he’d make the same offer?
Was she concerned about having to spend the night watching her
words, guarding her explanations? “I hope you’re not planning on
backing out, Mrs. Wainwright?”

“Of course not,” she said, her voice
flat.

He’d have laughed but nothing seemed all that
funny to him right now. She was acting unusual. Maybe it was simply
that she was odd. But he didn’t think so. Something wasn’t right.
He’d just have to stick close to her until he found out what that
was. “I’ll come round Freida’s shortly after five. There’s supper
before the dancing begins and we don’t want to be late.”

***

Aunt Freida closed the store at four. She
checked the lock on the back door twice and then led Bella out the
front door. She pulled it shut and turned the key to lock it.
“Nobody expects me to be open late tonight. Not with the dance and
all."

It was like senior prom and everybody needed
time to get an up-do. Bella smiled and pulled her hat lower onto
her head. Even as a teenager, her hair had been too heavy for an
up-do and she hadn’t had the patience to have that many pins put
in. She’d been a rebel and worn her hair down.

She was going to have to try harder tonight
to conform, to not draw any unnecessary suspicion. She’d been
stupid earlier when she’d gone into the saloon; it hadn’t dawned on
her until she’d been inside that proper ladies probably didn’t
drink in the afternoon. She wasn’t sorry though that she’d managed
to connect with Delilah. The young woman was one of the key players
in the crazy drama and meeting her had made Bella feel as if she
was making some progress. She’d been in Mantosa for two days, which
meant she had four left. Time was not her friend.

Even so, now all she could do was follow Aunt
Freida’s lead. The two of them walked briskly to the wagon that was
waiting at the entrance of the livery. “Thank you kindly, Wymer,”
Aunt Freida said. “Are you going to the dance tonight?”

“I am. You know it’s been three years now
since Miriam passed on. I didn’t go to the Harvest Social that
first year. But since then I’ve tried to make it. It’s a good
opportunity to see neighbors that I don’t get to see
regularly.”

“Yes, it is,” Aunt Freida said. She glanced
at Bella and took a deep breath. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Wymer shuffled his feet. “Why, if you two
ladies need an escort, I’d be much obliged to do the honor.”

Aunt Freida shook her head. “Thank you kindly
but I will be attending with Thomas Bean and my niece will be in
the company of Jedidiah.”

Wymer rubbed a hand across his weathered
face. “You don’t say. I believe it’s going to be a right
interesting evening.”

They climbed into the wagon and Aunt Freida
clicked her tongue. Once they were far enough that Wymer couldn’t
hear the conversation, Bella turned to her aunt. “You deliberately
told him about Thomas and that I’d be attending with the sheriff.
Why?”

“So the gossips could get a head start. Wymer
loves to spread news. This way others won’t spend the night gawking
at us. Neither Thomas nor Jedidiah would like that.”

“I guess this Harvest Social must be quite
the event. I’m glad you didn’t have to miss it on my account.”

“People look forward to it. They’ve worked
hard to get their crops in and they know that once winter hits,
it’ll be difficult to socialize. It gives couples a chance to have
a night out and there are always a fair number of single men there,
too.”

“But not single women?”

Her aunt frowned. “That would hardly be
proper,” she said. “Does that happen back in Ohio?”

She was from Ohio. Good to know.
“Oh,
no. Things are pretty much the same back there.”

“You’ll have a good time with Jedidiah,” her
aunt said.

She wasn’t so sure. Not that the man wasn’t a
piece of eye candy. And if Bart was right, he could dance, too. But
he had an intensity about him that made her uncomfortable. And he’d
acted so odd when he’d come by the store this afternoon. Of course,
she’d been a little frazzled, too. When she’d seen the woman get
off the stage, she’d been sure it was the real Merribelle. She’d
been ready to intercept her and say—well, she had no idea what—but
thankfully the woman’s children had piled off the stage at that
exact moment.

They rode along in silence and within a few
minutes, Aunt Freida was pulling the wagon into the yard. She
pulled tight on the reins and the horses stopped. They tossed their
heads and white steam rose in the air.

“I’ll put the rig away,” her aunt said. She
folded back the blanket that they’d used to cover their legs and
Bella felt the chill run all the way up her spine.

Her aunt stepped off the wagon and turned to
offer a hand to Bella. “On my way in, I’ll get us some water. I
figure you might want to wash up before you go.”

Wash up?
What she really wanted was a
long, hot shower, an electric blanket, and a really good glass of
white wine. “That sounds great,” Bella said, trying hard to put a
little enthusiasm in her voice. “But I’ll get the water. You don’t
need to wait on me.”

“I don’t mind, Bella.”

“I know. But please, just go on inside. I
can’t wait to see this dress you were telling Elizabeth about.”

Aunt Freida took a step toward the barn door
but then stopped. She looked over her shoulder. “You don’t think
I’m an old fool, do you?” she asked, her tone suddenly serious. “I
mean, I’ve been married and had children. And here I am, acting
like a young girl on her first date.”

Bella shook her head and wished desperately
that Averil was here. She was the one who could always find the
right words, could always say just the thing to make someone feel
better. “I’m no expert on these things but here’s how I see it.
You’ve got a new man, a pretty dress, and a place to wear it. Don’t
think too much about it. Just enjoy it. There will be plenty of
time to worry tomorrow.”

It maybe wasn’t exactly right but it seemed
to satisfy her aunt. The woman smiled. “Bella, you’re just what
this old woman needed. I’m awfully glad your mother sent you in my
direction.”

Bella felt a pain in her chest and tried to
dismiss it as cold air searing her lungs. But she knew it was
really guilt bruising her heart. “I am too. Go take care of the
horses. I’ll meet you inside in just a few minutes.”

Bella pulled her scarf tighter and started
off toward the pump. Her eyes watered, her nose ran, and the snow
got into her shoes, causing her toes to feel even colder. Jedidiah
McNeil was right—her shoes weren’t much use.

She grabbed the handle of the tin bucket that
hung from the pole near the pump. The cold burned through her
gloves and maybe it was because she’d already been thinking about
Averil, that she had a sudden memory of her and Averil, as
children, playing on the monkey bars at school. She’d felt that
same kind of cold that day through her gloves. Then Tommy Wottmer
had double-dared her to put her tongue on the ice cold metal. She’d
done it. Her tongue had, of course, gotten stuck and she’d been
terrified. She yanked it off, leaving the top layer behind. She
could still remember spitting out blood onto the fresh snow and the
horrible taste it left in her mouth.

However, before Bella could turn Tommy
Wottmer into a snowflake, Averil had put her arm around her and led
her back inside the school. “Don’t do it, Bella,” she warned, under
her breath. “It was his dare but your mistake.”

Sheriff McNeil had sort of dared her today.
I hope you’re not planning on backing out?

She wasn’t smooth like her father and she
never knew exactly the right thing to say like her sister, but the
one thing she wasn’t, was a coward.

She pulled up the handle and with a few sharp
pumps, water flowed into the bucket. Nope. Nobody dared Bella
Fantini.

Once the bucket was full, she grabbed the
handle and lugged it to the house. She met up with her aunt just as
the woman pulled the door shut on the barn. “Is it getting colder
or is it just my imagination?” Bella asked.

Aunt Freida nodded, opened the cabin door,
and motioned Bella inside. “Make sure you take a couple extra
blankets with you tonight. Jed can tuck you in and you’ll be warm
enough.”

The vision the words evoked came so swiftly,
so intensely, that Bella almost dropped her bucket. There were
blankets, all right. But no wagon. Just her, curled up on a thick
quilt, in her Victoria Secret matching bra and panties. Candles
burned on a nearby table and a roaring blaze in the fireplace
warmed the room. She could smell the scent of fresh coffee. She was
safe. And it was because of him.

And
him
, the very sexy Sheriff McNeil,
his hair tousled, his face looking weary, sat in a chair, hunched
over, his forearms resting on his legs. He wore a plain tan shirt,
open at the neck. His pants were dark and his gray socks had a
small hole in the toe. His boots sat next to his chair.

He was studying her and wanting was written
all over his face.

“Bella. Bella,” her aunt repeated, drawing
Bella back. She struggled to hang on to the vision, to understand
it better, but it was gone.

“I said I’m going to light the stove and heat
that water up a little,” Aunt Freida said. “Can you hand me the
bucket?”

“Uh…yes. Of course.” Bella’s movements were
jerky but she managed to hand off the pail without spilling it.
“I’m going to go…uh…try to do something with my hair,” she said,
desperately needing to get to her room.

He
might have had need written on his
face but she could feel her own need burning all the way to her
core.

She realized Aunt Freida was examining her
with a look of concern. “I’ve never had much of a fair hand with
doing up hair, Bella, but I’ll try to help as best as I can,” she
offered.

Good grief. Her aunt thought she was
whacked-out because of a few stray hairs. “No problem,” Bella
assured her. She opened the door of the small bedroom, shut it
behind her, and collapsed on the bed.

What would have caused her to have that
vision? Her gift of sight had never been finely tuned, not like
some other witches who followed good magic. But yet, this had been
as clear as day.

She’d been almost naked.

She didn’t have any intention of getting
naked with the sheriff.

Did she?

Oh, hell.

She lay flat on her back, counting slowly,
making herself take even, steady breaths. In. Out. In. Out.

And the burning in her body turned into an
ache between her legs. And she knew, quite suddenly, that the
thoughts those two simple words—
in, out
—evoked, when she
tied them with the vision of her lying on Jedidiah McNeils’s rug,
would make her aunt’s hair turn absolutely gray. Overnight.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows.
Get
a grip, Bella.
Her father, Averil, untold others, were counting
on her. She could not lose focus. She could not fail.

She would not.

Filled with fresh resolve, she sat up and
leaned over to reach the small suitcase at the end of the bed. She
opened the lid and pulled out the rose-colored dress on top. She
stood, shook out the dress, and while her newly-found confidence
didn’t crumble, it
did
start to peel at the edges.

It wasn’t that the dress wasn’t pretty. It
was. The underskirt was a deep rose-colored satin or some similar
material and it had layers of lighter-colored rose silk over it. It
had a definite waist, a wide-scooped neckline, and when she turned
it over, there was a row of tiny pearl buttons up the back.

She hadn’t paid any attention to the clothes
her sister had whipped up. This, too, was no doubt a replica of a
dress from one of her sister’s romance novels. Given the fact that
Averil favored regency-set historicals, the dresses were a whole
lot fancier than Bella might have picked if she was doing the
designing.

She favored jeans and jackets and the
occasional mid-calf skirt with boots and a sweater.

She dropped the garment. She had a closet
full of clothes at home but here, things were significantly more
limited. She hadn’t wanted to hassle with a big suitcase. She had
the tan blouse and brown skirt that she’d arrived in. She had the
yellow dress she’d worn earlier today. And she had this. And given
that she’d told her aunt that she had a dress for the dance, she
was pretty much stuck wearing this one.

Whatever.
She tossed her hair, in much
the same way she’d done when she was fourteen and she’d felt that
she had to do something totally ridiculous.

She unbuttoned the dress she had on, let it
slip to the floor, and with very efficient movements, tugged the
rose silk over her head. She adjusted it around her body and
managed to get all the buttons done.

When she looked at her refection in the small
mirror near the water pitcher, she realized that if she was very,
very careful, and didn’t lean over too much, she might manage to
keep her breasts inside her dress.