Yesterday's Magic (30 page)

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Authors: Beverly Long

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Time Travel, #Western, #Westerns, #romance time travel old west western

BOOK: Yesterday's Magic
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She opened a tin of crackers, grabbed a
handful of dried fruit from the open sack that Freida kept behind
the counter, and dipped a cup full of water out of the barrel. It
wasn’t much but she wasn’t much interested in eating. She was so
tired. She hadn’t had more than five hours of sleep a night since
she’d come to this time and most nights, it had been significantly
less than that.

Once she finished eating, she stretched out
on the small bed in Freida’s back room. It had a thin, lumpy,
feather mattress that made her sneeze when she lay on her stomach.
She flipped over to her back and closed her eyes. She could hear
the wind howling outside and she was grateful that she’d had the
common sense to stay in town. She closed her eyes and figured she’d
sleep until morning.

***

“Christ, Jedidiah.” Bart leaned on the broom
that he’d been using to sweep up the sheriff’s office floor.
“You’ve been more quarrelsome tonight than a man with a porcupine
needle stuck in his ass.”

“I don’t think it’s too much for me to ask
you to clean up around here once in a while.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.
Hell, I don’t care if I have to wash a few windows or wipe down
some cobwebs in the corners. Besides, it’s obvious you worked every
bit as hard earlier today since the walls are scrubbed so damn
clean that I’m surprised the paint is staying on.” Bart took a
breath. “That effort, along with your unwillingness to take your
leave even though I’m on duty, makes me think there’s something on
your mind.”

Jed glanced over his shoulder. Pete was
asleep in his cell. Jed had gotten him some dinner from the
restaurant. He’d eaten just a few bites and pushed his tray away.
Given that he’d spent most of the day crying, Jed figured the man’s
throat was too swollen to allow much swallowing. When Jed had
turned the lantern down, Pete had drifted off to sleep readily
enough but then he awoke with such a start that Jed knew the
nightmares had returned. After that had happened twice more, Jed
had taken pity on him and had given him a cup of whiskey. That had
evidently calmed his nerves enough that once he’d fallen asleep,
he’d stayed asleep.

“There’s nothing on my mind,” Jed lied. Most
of the day had been spent trying to sort out his feelings for
Bella. He’d tried to convince himself that he’d taken her to his
bed because she’d been willing and her staying at his house had
been a convenience that he could not ignore. He’d similarly tried
to convince himself that given there was no real emotion between
the two of them, that he’d been right to tell her that it was best
that they not repeat the foolishness nor talk about it either.

Jed closed the door of the Sheriff’s office
quietly, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up Pete. Bart didn’t need
that to deal with. Once outside, he stood for a moment, taking deep
breaths of the cold night air.

It was still snowing—there had to be at least
five inches on the ground. The soft glow of moonlight combined with
the white cover made the town look fresh and clean. He supposed it
looked a lot like it had two nights ago, when he’d rescued Bella
from the storm. He’d been so damn worried that he hadn’t taken time
to appreciate the quiet beauty.

She’d
been beautiful that night. And
her skin had been soft and when she’d taken him into her body, she
had been hot with need. At Hawkin’s Saloon, when she’d glared at
him over the rim of her glass, she’d been cold with anger. Yes,
she’d been mad. Perhaps mad that he’d had the audacity to interrupt
her lunch. But there’d been some other emotion there, too. And the
reason he’d scrubbed the walls like a madman was that he was pretty
much sure it was fear.

He didn’t think she was scared of him. He’d
given her no reason and God knows, she’d held her own with him
every time. So, the other alternative was that she was afraid of
Toomay. But then why had she encouraged the man by agreeing to
share a meal with the man?

None of it made sense. Especially not the
part when Toomay had put his hand on the back of Bella’s neck and
Jed had known that the only thing that would satisfy him was
reaching down Toomay’s throat and yanking his guts out.

***

When Bella woke up, she had no idea how long
she’d been sleeping. A quick look at the almost-burned-out stove
told her it had been several hours. Even so, she didn’t feel
rested.

When she got home, she was going to sleep for
a solid week.

Which shouldn’t be that much of a problem.
After all, at home nobody expected her to manage a store or watch
over an injured woman or dupe Bad Magic. Nobody really expected
much out of her at all.

It wasn’t that startling revelation that
caused her to stare into the darkness tonight. No. She’d known that
for years. It was the fact that it suddenly bothered her that had
her heart beating a little too fast in her chest.

Desperate to fall back to sleep, she tried
counting sheep. When that was a bust, she resorted to making up
songs where words needed to rhyme with
out
and
house
and
canned meat—
the things that disgusted her about the
good old days. She got pretty inventive with a song about her need
to pout about a louse in her tan sheets or to shout about the mouse
running down the sand street.

Finally, she got up, lit the lantern, added
wood to the stove, and started organizing the tools section. She
took the liberty of using one of the new hammers as well as a few
nails. With every swing, she imagined she was striking Toomay’s
face, smashing it, obliterating him and his Bad Magic. It was oddly
therapeutic and she began to feel almost peaceful.

Soon she had most of the items neatly hanging
on the wall. She figured if she kept going at the same rate, she’d
get the few remaining tools hung and make good progress on
organizing the jumble of pots, pans, and assorted dishes. Heck, she
might even be brave enough to tackle the canned goods.

***

Jed stepped off the sidewalk and walked into
the street. A few wagons had gone through, packing the snow enough
that it made for easier walking.

He walked past the saloon. Snake usually
closed up by 2 am and it looked like tonight was no exception. The
windows were dark. Earlier in the evening, he’d left the sheriff’s
office for a few minutes to walk down to the saloon. The place had
been crowded, especially for a snowy night. It had made him think
that people were damn hard to figure out. Most everybody last night
had expressed disgust at the shooting but there’d been an
excitement in the crowd that could not be denied. He’d wondered if
tonight’s crowd had been drawn in by the stories. Had people come
tonight hoping to witness someone else’s misfortune?

If so, they’d have left dissatisfied because
Toomay hadn’t been there. There’d been no sign of Bella, either.
He’d had a moment of panic, wondering if the two could possibly be
together, when common sense had prevailed. Bella would be home,
tending to Freida.

He kept walking. As long as he was out, he
figured he might as well check the back door to the Mercantile.
Freida didn’t need any new worries. He was twenty feet from the
shop when the hair on the back of his neck prickled. He studied the
window of the Mercantile. The curtains had been drawn but there was
just a sliver of space between them, allowing him to see into the
store.

There was a lantern burning in the store.
When he’d been by three hours ago, there’d been no light. He’d have
noticed it.

He drew his gun and he slipped quietly back
into the shadows. He was two feet from the back door when his boot
slipped and before he knew it, he was flat on his ass. Jed stood up
and hurriedly brushed the snow off his trousers. Damn ice. He was
lucky he hadn’t shot himself.

He stood outside the back door, his heart
thumping in his chest. There were no tracks leading into the store
so if the thief had come in through this way, he’d been inside for
some time. There was no telling how much damage he’d done.

But the door didn’t look vandalized. Jed
tried it. Locked. Knowing that his fall might have announced his
approach, he didn’t waste any time reaching inside his coat. He
slipped two fingers into his vest pocket and grabbed the extra key
that Freida had given him.

He eased it into the lock, turned, pushed,
and held his breath while the door swung open. Luckily, Freida had
oiled the hinges recently and it opened silently. He eased into the
room. It was dark now and he knew that someone had extinguished the
light. He tightened his grip on his gun. All the frustration he’d
had pent up inside of him threatened to boil to the top.

The son-of-a-bitch was going to regret that
he’d picked this night and this place. Freida was flat on her back.
She didn’t need or deserve any additional worries.

Motionless, he listened. The store was quiet.
Was it possible that the man inside had already left through the
front door?

Jed didn’t think so. He was still here. Jed
could feel it. He rubbed his thumb across the butt of his gun and
took a step forward.

***

Bella felt the cold air sweep into the store
and knew that the back door had opened. A minute earlier, she’d
heard a noise outside the back door. She reached for the lantern,
extinguished the light, and slipped into the shadows. She hadn’t
let go of her hammer.

She pressed her spine against the rough wall
and wished she could disappear into the wide boards. She needed her
magic. She was a fool to think that she could get along without
it.

She heard the crack of a floorboard and knew
the intruder was advancing. Why in the hell had she decided to stay
in town?

She raised her arm and tightened her grip on
the hammer. She did not intend to make this easy. She heard another
soft creak. Closer.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, roaring
in her ears. The absolute blackness of the store made her feel
disoriented, lightheaded.

Suddenly, he walked past her, so close that
he brushed against her wide skirt. She gasped, he whirled, and she
lunged forward, swinging her hammer wide.

Her forearm was blocked. It was like running
into a wall of steel. The pain vibrated up and down her arm. Her
suddenly numb fingers allowed the hammer to fly from her hand. It
crashed into something, sending merchandise thundering to the
ground.

The man pushed her back toward the wall,
jerking her shoulders, pinning her arms above her head.

“Ouch,” she said.

Her attacker froze. She tried to bring her
knee up.

He twisted and pressed her back against the
wall. “I should have known,” he said.

She sagged with relief and would have slid to
the floor if he hadn’t been holding her up. “Jed?” she
whispered.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
His tone was harsh. “I could have shot you, you damn fool.”

Damn fool.
Damn fool.
The words seemed to bounce off
the walls and come at her from all directions. They were jagged
shards of light, blues and greens and reds, ripping across a black
sky.

Bella felt a surge of rage. She was nobody’s
fool. She straightened her spine, balanced her weight on her legs,
brought her arms up between their two bodies, pressed her forearms
against his chest, and pushed as hard as she could. “Let go of me,”
she hissed.

“God damn you, I would if I only could,” he
said. His voice was guttural. He stepped forward, crowding her,
pressing his knee between her legs. His big body radiated heat,
power, control.

They were so close that her arms were
squished between his chest and her breasts. She felt trapped,
subdued.

With one hand, he grabbed a handful of dress
and yanked it up. She felt cold air on her bare leg and his hot
breath against her neck. It was an erotic combination.

He wadded her long skirt up and leaned
backwards, leaving just enough space between his chest and her arms
to stuff the material there. Then he leaned forward again,
effectively pinning her dress up.

Then he put a hand on each hip, grabbed the
sides of her bikini panty and ripped. The poor thing didn’t have a
chance.

She was just about to protest when his
fingers found her.

Oh, lord. His touch was cold and insistent
and she was hot and needy. He flicked his thumb across her once,
again, and she bucked against his hand.

He probed, higher. Her inner muscles
tightened, then flexed. He nipped at her neck and wedged his free
hand between their bodies and through her dress and bra, pulled
hard at her nipple.

She was vibrating with sensation, like a
guitar string that had been strummed. Suddenly, if was as if the
string was being plucked tight, then tighter still, until finally
it was let go and waves of pleasure, each more intense than the
last, flowed through her. She poured into his hand and when it was
over, when the last of the sensations had finally quieted, leaving
her drained, she felt as if her legs had turned to spaghetti.

And she was sure she might have slipped to
the ground if he hadn’t somehow managed to shed his pants. In one
smooth motion he lifted her, pressed her back against the wall, and
entered her.

Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around
his waist. He slipped his hands under her bare bottom and pounded
into her, each thrust harder. He was thick and hot and she felt as
if she was going to rip apart.

It was wonderful.

She squeezed her inner muscles together and
heard his groan. She did it again. He stiffened, pushed deeper
still, and he came inside of her, sending her over the edge all
over again.

Minutes later she was pretty sure she’d
stopped breathing. She thought it had something to do with the fact
that even though she still had her legs around him, he’d collapsed
his upper body against her.

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