Yesterday's Magic (16 page)

Maybe the sermon would be about tolerance or
forgiveness. Or, if God was really watching out for her, it’d be a
parable about how jerky guys who tried to intimidate women always
got their balls cut off.

When the minister walked up and stood next to
the cross, she was a little surprised to see that it was the man
who’d spent most of last night standing near the punch that she was
fairly certain had been spiked. His eyes were red and the black
suit he wore looked as if it had been slept in. When he started
speaking, he had a booming voice that made a microphone, not that
they had one, absolutely not necessary.

He was five minutes into his sermon when she
saw Jed and his sister slip in the back. She focused on the
minister and desperately tried to take in what he was saying. When
that didn’t work, she tried to remember the names of all her grade
school teachers. Then she did the times tables. Anything to avoid
thinking about him, about the kiss, and about Aunt Freida’s
assumption that she and Jed had the
what
.

Exactly one hour after it began, the service
ended. Bella hoped for a quick escape but those plans were thwarted
when Aunt Freida saw Jed’s sister. “Oh, Elizabeth,” Aunt Freida
said, “it’s a sight for sore eyes to see you here.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I decided that I’ve been
mad at God for long enough.” She glanced over at Jed who stood
several feet away, caught up in conversation with Wymer. “I wasn’t
brave enough to come back on my own. Too many memories of the last
sermon I heard.” She looked at Bella. “When my husband died,” she
explained.

Aunt Freida put her arm around Elizabeth.
“Would you join us for dinner today, Elizabeth?”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you Freida, but you
weren’t expecting company. Plus, Jedidiah brought me and is
intending to take me home.”

Aunt Freida shook her head. “Jedidiah is
welcome, too. And you’re not company. You’re my friend and I’ve
missed you. I’ve got more than enough food, so it would be no
trouble at all.”

Bella could see that Jed and Wymer had
finished their conversation. She also saw the brief hesitation in
his step before he came to stand next to his sister. He gave a
general nod in Bella’s direction but he didn’t make eye contact
with her.

Maybe he’d forgotten that he’d practically
had his tongue down her throat the night before.

Aunt Freida gave a quick glance over her
shoulder, as if to assure herself that Mrs. Bean and the Bean boys
were still in conversation with the minister. Then she leaned
closer to Elizabeth and Jed. “Please come to dinner. Both of you.
Thomas is bringing his mother,” she whispered.

Elizabeth smiled and Bella was once again
struck at how beautiful she was. She had almost perfect bone
structure and skin that seemed to absolutely glow. “Oh. I see.” She
looked at her brother. “Jedidiah, we have time for dinner at
Freida’s, don’t we?”

He looked like a man who’d rather spend the
next hour sticking pins in his eyeballs but he was also a man who
clearly doted on his sister. “I imagine we do.”

Aunt Freida let out a sigh and she looked
very satisfied, leaving Bella to wonder if the sudden invitation
was all about the Bean’s coming to dinner or did it have something
to do with Bella’s earlier admission that Jed had kissed her. Was
Aunt Freida trying to decide for herself whether Bella and Jed had
the
what
.

It was a small entourage that headed out to
Aunt Freida’s cabin. Aunt Freida and Bella led, the Bean’s
followed, and Jed and his sister took the rear. Bella, who loved to
watch corny old musicals on television, softly whistled
Seventy-Six Trombones
and wished she had a pair of
symbols—she could slap them babies together, up alongside Jed’s
head, and jump start his brain.

What the hell was his problem?

“That’s a lively tune,” Aunt Freida said.

“Should be a lively lunch,” Bella said. She
tapped her toe on the wooden floorboards on the wagon and took a
big breath. “Aunt Freida, how well do you know Jed?”

The woman shrugged. “I knew him as a boy. My
boys were just a couple years older than him. I got to know him
better once he’d come back to Mantosa, once he became sheriff.”

“And you think a lot of him?”

Now Aunt Freida smiled. “Jedidiah has his
faults. He’s too serious and he works too hard and he sometimes
doesn’t try hard enough to make others around him feel comfortable.
But he was good to his mother and he treats his sister like a
queen. He makes sure his best friend has a roof over his head and
warm food for his stomach. He’ll stand up to bank robbers and
cattle thieves and most everybody in town knows that he’s the best
shot in these parts.”

It was Bella’s turn to smile. She looked over
her shoulder, past the Beans, and stared at Jed’s carriage. His
face was turned towards his sister. He had a strong profile, a
proud chin, straight nose. Fabulous lips, too. She didn’t need to
see those in order to remember.

He was so different from the men in her time.
He was physically stronger, for sure, but it wasn’t just that. He
had character and a sense of purpose.

It dawned on her that if she was going to be
here longer, it would be a whole lot of fun leading him astray.
The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

Once they were at the cabin, Aunt Freida got
busy lighting the stove and setting the table. Bella was going to
offer to help but Mrs. Bean beat her to the punch. She figured it
might be a good bonding experience for the two women so she joined
the rest of the group. Thomas and String Bean sat in chairs facing
the couch, where Constance and Elizabeth had landed. Jed stood,
near enough to the fireplace that he could lean to the right and
rest his arm on the stone ledge above the massive pit.

Elizabeth patted the vacant spot on the
couch. “Have a seat. Are your legs tired from dancing last
night?”

“A little,” Bella admitted.

String leaned forward in his chair. “You’re a
right fine dancer, Bella.”

Thomas nodded. “That was the consensus of
every man there who danced with you. Light as a feather and quick
on your feet.”

“Thank you. It’s been a while,” she added,
feeling slightly embarrassed at the praise.

“Was your husband fond of dancing?” Elizabeth
asked.

Jed straightened up.

It was getting tougher every day keeping
track of the lies. “Yes. Absolutely,” she said.

Elizabeth reached over and patted her hand.
“How did he die, Bella?”

Oh, boy. How did her husband die? Aunt Freida
probably knew the answer to that one but unfortunately hadn’t said.
Probably didn’t think she needed to tell Bella that.

Bella licked her lips. “My husband
died…suddenly.” Didn’t everyone? Even those that lingered on, when
the end finally came, even if it wasn’t a surprise, it was
sudden.

Then there were those, like her mother, who
were so full of life one minute and dead the next, that their death
was so shocking that it took your breath away. All you were left
with was regrets and a sharp, jagged grief that made you bleed
inside.

She stood up so quickly that she got dizzy.
“You know, that fire feels really good on a day like today. I think
I’ll go get some more wood. The pile is getting pretty low.”

She grabbed her cloak and was out the door in
less than thirty seconds. She practically ran to the wood pile that
Aunt Freida kept near the side of the cabin but she knew the small
amount of exertion had nothing to do with her cheeks feeling hot
and the back of her neck getting sticky with sweat.

She’d never told anyone about the fight she’d
had with her mother that day. She’d said horrible things and
slammed doors and when she’d heard her mother’s car start, she’d
stayed in her room, determined to make her point.

Her mother had been dead within the hour.

And she’d never had the courage to admit that
it had been her fault. She’d seen her father’s suffering and heard
Averil crying at night and still she’d stayed silent.

And every day she’d felt a little more empty.
She’d filled her days with people and places and no one had known
that she’d woken up every morning with an unsaid apology on her
lips.

She blinked back tears and almost blindly,
she squatted down and started frantically gathering wood. She had
her arms half full of small logs when she felt a hand on her
shoulder. She didn’t have to turn around. She knew his touch—after
a couple crazy kisses in the moonlight, she’d have known his touch
anywhere.

“I don’t think my sister meant to upset you,”
he said, his voice soft.

She relaxed her arms and the logs fall back
to the ground. She kept her head bent. “I’m not upset,” she lied.
She really needed to get her crap together before she faced him or
anybody else inside that cabin. “I’ll be back inside in just a few
minutes.”

He moved and she thought he was going to
leave. Inside, he shifted to her side and out of the corner of her
eye, she could see that he was holding out his hand.

Go away, Jed.

He didn’t seem to be particularly attuned to
her telepathic messages. Or perhaps he was deliberately ignoring
them—which was a problem because sooner or later lunch would be
ready and somebody would come looking for them.

She swiped her hand across her cheeks, trying
to destroy the evidence. Then, against her better judgment, she
reached up and slipped her hand into his.

Solid. Substantial. Yet, he held her hand
gently. He pulled and she got to her feet. When she tried to yank
her hand away, he didn’t let go. Instead, he guided her back
towards the side of the house, where they’d be out of sight of
anyone coming out the door.

He tilted her face up to meet his. His
mostly-gray eyes were troubled. With the pad of his thumb he
brushed a tear off her cheek. “Missed one,” he said. “You know I
don’t generally give advice,” he added. “But if gathering wood
troubles you so, then perhaps you should consider having someone
else take on that task.”

He was teasing her. Jedidiah McNeil, the man
who Aunt Freida had said didn’t try hard enough to make others feel
comfortable, was doing his best to cheer her up. “I’ll try to
remember that,” she said. She sniffed and he smiled.

“I should probably get back inside,” she
said.

He took another step closer, crowding her.
“That’s what you said last night, too. Before I kissed you.”

He bent his head, his lips just inches from
hers. Oh Lord, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

“Jed.” It was a plea. But for what? To let
her walk away? Or maybe to kiss her until she couldn’t remember her
own name? He confused the hell out of her.

He let out a sigh and she could feel his warm
breath on her cheek. “I don’t know what it is about you but I can’t
seem to get you out of my head,” he said. He didn’t sound angry but
he didn’t sound very happy either. He took the pad of his thumb,
the same one that had brushed her tears away, and ran it across her
bottom lip.

She felt a zing go straight to the places
that enjoyed it the most.

He leaned into her, his knee forcing her legs
apart. Lord. Another inch higher and she’d be riding him. The
zing
would have a matching
zang
.

This was insane. Their worlds were one
hundred and thirty years apart. “Walk or let me walk,” she
begged.

He sighed, then smiled, then nodded. And she
relaxed.

“Tomorrow,” he said, right before he bent his
head and consumed her.

She was putty in his hands—warm, sticky, glop
that could be twisted and turned and shaped. She opened her mouth
and with each lick and stab of his tongue, she felt herself grow
more pliant, more yielding, more needy.

He stopped kissing her as suddenly as he’d
started. He stepped away from her, his hands in the air. His chest
heaved as he sucked in air. “Shit,” he said.

It was as if he’d thrown a bucket of cold
water on her. She felt dazed, confused, hesitant. Out of control.
That was the worst of it. He made her feel that she’d lost control.
She’d perfected being out of control for the past ten years—most
anybody could vouch for that. But this time, it was supposed to be
different.

She was mad at herself and mad at him, too.
“What was that about?” she asked.

He’d apparently been struck mute because he
didn’t answer. Instead, he reached inside her coat and pulled his
watch out of his vest pocket. “Please tell Freida that I’m not
going to be able to stay for dinner, after all. Tell my sister I’ll
be back in exactly two hours to collect her and that I’d appreciate
it if she’s ready to go.”

“That’s it?” she demanded, her temper getting
the best of her. “You kissed me last night and I was willing to let
it go, to just chalk it up to moonlight and spiked punch. But
today, it’s barely noon and we’re supposed to be eating Sunday
dinner in just a few minutes. This is ordinary life, Jed. You can’t
just do unexpected, random things in an ordinary life and expect
that I won’t ask a question or two.”

He considered her and she could tell by the
set of his jaw and the flash of his eyes that his own temper had
been tweaked. “I don’t have any damned answers, Bella. Maybe it’s
as simple as I didn’t want to see you crying over your dead
husband.”

“So, it was a
pity
kiss?” she
accused.

“I don’t know what the hell it was,” he said.
“All I can tell you is that it’s not going to happen again.”

He turned and walked away, his strides long
and determined. He got into his carriage and without another glance
at her, drove out of Aunt Freida’s lane.

Bella kicked the wood pile. Her toes were
cold and the sudden jolt sent a spike of pain up her leg. Damn him.
He ran hot and cold and she couldn’t keep up with the sudden
temperature changes.