A Husband in Time (11 page)

His knees buckled as every other part of him seemed to twist into tight little knots of pleasure so intense it was almost pain. And when he exploded inside her, he felt her climax adding to his, enhancing it. The rippling convulsions of her, milking him, drawing what felt like the very soul from his body along with his seed. And capturing it in her own.

He mouthed words he'd never uttered to a woman in his life. But not a sound emerged. They clung, and shuddered, and trembled with the aftershocks of that incredible lovemaking for a long time.

And then she lifted her head, and she kissed his mouth, and she gently lowered herself until she was standing on her feet again. And…and she was crying.

He wanted to take away her pain, and didn't know how. But all he could say was “There has to be a
way. We'll find a way. We can save them both, Jane. We must.”

She stared deeply into his eyes, her tears brimming and burning holes through his heart. “You're going through with this? Even though it might cost my son his life?”

“
Might
cost his life, Jane.” He stroked her hair, kissed her again. And again. Held her naked, trembling body in his arms and wished with everything in him that he'd never have to let go. “But I have no doubt that my son
will
lose his life if I don't. I have to try.”

Trailing her hand down his damp cheek, she whispered, “I'm sorry, Zach. But I won't let you. I can't let you do this.”

And they stood there, aching for each other, and for themselves. Each willing to do whatever it took to protect their child. They just stared, and he knew this was destroying her as surely as it was destroying him. He couldn't even be angry with her for what she'd said, what she'd no doubt try to do.

Shaking his head with regret, he reached past her, picked up her nightshirt and, with exquisite tenderness, put it over her head. She tucked her arms into one sleeve, then the other, as he held them for her. And he lowered the garment until its hem brushed her thighs, as before.

A loud knock at the door made her whirl. Zach saw the sheriff from the night before, Quigly O'Donnell, standing there with a ball of fur cradled in his arms.

Jane's eyes shot to Zach's, wide, and he knew she
was wondering how long the sheriff had been standing there, peering through the glass into the kitchen.

Zach shook his head. “I would have seen him, Jane. He wasn't there.”

With a sigh of relief, she moved forward and opened the door.

“Found your cat,” the sheriff said, thrusting the multicolored beast into her arms. “Don't think she likes riding much. Clawed my upholstery up like you wouldn't believe.”

Jane blinked down at the animal, but said only, “Thank you.”

God, her voice sounded dead.

“Mornin', Bolton,” Quigly offered.

“Good morning.”

“Say, Jane, what in the name of all hell is that boy of yours up to?”

Jane frowned, and Zach came to stand very close beside her, alert. “Cody's still sleeping,” Jane said. “Why?”

Quigly chuckled and shook his head. “Ayuh. Now, maybe. But I'm thinking you ought to sneak on upstairs and look in on him all the same, Jane. Judgin' by the flash of light I saw coming from his bedroom window when I drove past here a few hours ago, I'd say he short-circuited his computer or something.”

“Flash of…” Jane's eyes widened, and she looked at Zach. He knew the panic that was surging in her, because he was feeling it, too.

“Keep tabs on that cat now, you hear?” Sheriff O'Donnell turned from the door and sauntered back to his cruiser.

Jane's knees started to buckle. Zach saw the way she sagged, and he gripped her shoulders, steadied her. She was shaking like a leaf, and whiter than chalk, but she stiffened and started through the kitchen, the cat still cradled in her arms. Her steps quickened as she moved, and Zach kept pace. By the time she reached the foot of the stairs, she was running.

“Cody!” she called. “Cody, answer me!”

She burst through the doorway at the top of the stairs. But the room was empty. Jane swung her head this way and that, scanning the entire room, whispering Cody's name once more in what came out as a hopeless gasp. And then she went still. Zach followed her gaze to the device, lying in the very center of the floor. Its back cover had popped off, and wires sprung from inside.

Slowly Zach moved past her to stand at the spot in the center of the room. He felt the static electricity teasing the hairs at his nape, sensed the remaining charge in the air here. A low yowl came from the frightened cat, and it leaped from Jane's arms and ran from the room.

“The doorway's been opened,” he said slowly. “Within the last few hours.”

“No.”

He bent to pick up the device, examined it, and swore under his breath.

“Is it…”

“Broken all to hell.” He met her stricken eyes. “Looks as if Cody dropped it before he went through.”

“Went…through?”

He held her gaze steadily, seeing the horror, the panic, the sickening feeling of helplessness, that he knew only too well. She shook her head in denial, tore her gaze from his and ran from the room. He heard her steps, her agonized cries, as she went from room to room, searching for her son. “Cody!” she shouted. “Cody, where are you? Answer me! Cody!”

Zach lowered his head in anguish. Two children, now, instead of one. And both of them might well be beyond his reach. Almighty God, the device hadn't even been up to full power when Cody used it. He might not have gone back to the moment Zach had left, but to sometime even earlier. He wasn't even certain he'd be able to find the child. Harsh breaths from the doorway drew his gaze upward, and he saw Jane there, her face already streaked with tears. He lifted a hand, took a step toward her.

“Fix it,” she told him, and he stopped in his tracks. “Fix it now, Zach.”

“I'm…” He looked into her eyes and couldn't complete the sentence. He'd been about to tell her he wasn't certain he could fix the device, but the words wouldn't come. “I will,” he heard himself say instead, though he knew there was a strong chance it was a lie. He turned from the hope in her eyes, unable to face it and know he might fail. He cleared a spot on the desk where Cody's computer stood, set the device down, then bent to retrieve his tools from his carpetbag. Pulling his spectacles from his shirt pocket, he slipped them on, sat down and began dismantling the small box.

“The pills are gone,” Jane whispered.

Zach's head came up.

“They were on the coffee table, by the sofa. But they're gone. Cody must have heard us talking last night…must have heard
me
talking.” She closed her eyes. “He's wanted a brother so badly.”

“I know.”

She paced to the window, parted the curtains to look outside. Then stiffened and turned to him again. “What if he's sick? God, you were so sick when you came through! It will be worse for him… Zach, what if—?”

He shot to his feet and went to her, gripping her shoulders hard. “Stop it.”

“Zach, what if we can't get him back? God, what if I've lost him?” Sobs tore through her body, wracking her slender frame, and he pulled her closer. “Damn you and your stupid inventions, Zach Bolton! Damn you for coming here!”

He grimaced at the condemnation in her voice. She was so right. If he hadn't come here… Ah, but what choice had he been given? And yet, even as she railed at him, she pressed closer. “Hold me,” she whispered.

“I am holding you.”

“I can't feel it.”

Zach's arms around her closed tighter, and hers came around his waist, just as desperately, just as forcefully. Her anguish brought his own to the surface, though he'd thought he'd battled it into submission. All the fears that he might not win this skirmish against fate, all the uncertainties, all the doubts, came rushing back, because they were so keenly reflected in her grief.

“I'm his mother,” she sobbed. “I'm not supposed to let anything happen to him.”

“I know.”

“When he's hurt or upset…I can always make it better, Zach. Always. It isn't supposed to be this way.”

She lifted her head to search his face, and he pushed the hair out of her eyes. “This is how you felt before you came here, isn't it?”

“Yes, Jane. It's how I still feel.”

“I'm sorry…I'm so sorry I tried to stop you…. I was—”

“You were protecting your child. I'd have done the same.”

She sniffed, and Zach brushed her tears from her cheeks with the tips of his fingers. “Nothing's changed,” she said. “You know that.”

She was wrong about that, he thought. Something had changed. He felt it right to the core of his being. But now was not the time to try to understand just what that something was.

“We could still cause unthinkable trouble by trying to alter the past.”

“We can't afford to focus on that right now,” he told her. “All we can do now is concentrate on getting back there, finding our sons, keeping them safe. The repercussions of our actions…” He shook his head. “Those we'll think about later.”

She blinked away fresh tears, looking doubtful.

“And we will, Jane,” he told her, and he tried hard to inject certainty into his tone, because he knew just how badly she needed to hear it there. “We'll
weigh every move we make before we take action. I promise you that.”

She nodded hard. “All right.” Glancing past him, toward the table, where the crippled device lay in pieces, she whispered, “What can I do to help?”

C
ody picked himself up off the floor and brushed at the knees of his jeans. Then he froze and stared down at his hands. The box! Where was the box? Realizing he must have dropped it, he quickly scanned the room, the floor around and behind him. But there was no sign of it there, and the blinding white hole he'd come through had vanished.

“Oh, no,” he muttered. He quickly checked his pockets and found the bottle of pills he'd brought along. Thank goodness he hadn't dropped those, too. He breathed a sigh of relief and, for the first time, examined his surroundings.

His bedroom…or it had been up until a minute ago. Now it was different. And the most noticeable difference was the sickly little boy all tucked into the big bed over there, and the three strangers who stood around him, all of them slowly turning shocked glances on Cody.

Cody cleared his throat, took a single backward step, smiled and said, “Uh…hi.” A couple of oil lamps threw off about enough light to see by, and not a drop more. But there was enough to know that those three were none too pleased to see him there.

Moving as one, they came toward him, surrounding him, three stunned faces blinking down at him.
A fat man with gray whiskers, and a taller, skinny man with black ones. Both wore old-fashioned suits and ties. The lady was older, with silvery hair and a crinkly face. She took one look at him and fell backward. Both of the men grabbed hold of her, one fanning her face until she blinked and got herself upright again.

“Don't drop her, Eli. For the love of God, you're dropping her!”

“I'm not dropping her! I have her. For God's sake, get the chair, Wilhelm.”

Eli? Wilhelm?
Cody stared at the men, too shocked to move. Holy cow, he was standing in the same room with Eli Waterson and Wilhelm Bausch!

One pulled a chair over, tucked it under the lady and then fanned her face. After a moment, her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled weakly at the two men, then gaped at Cody. “Land sakes, child! You nearly frightened me out of my life! What
was
that flash of light? And where on God's earth did you come from?”

“Who are you, boy? How did you get in here?” The younger of the two mustached men leaned forward as he spoke. “Where is Mr. Bolton?”

Cody figured he'd better not say too much. They'd think he was nuts, and God only knew what they did with crazy little boys in the 1890s. So he just shrugged. “I dunno.”

“None of that matters, Eli,” said the older man. “We really must get this child off the premises in all haste.”

“No way,” Cody said, crossing his arms. “I came to see Ben, and I'm not leavin' till I do.” He craned
his neck to see past them, to the boy in the bed. The light wasn't that bright, but Cody didn't think the kid looked very good.

The lady blinked as if she were going to cry, and ran one hand over Cody's hair. He smiled at her, because it had always worked on Grandma Kate. “You dear, sweet child,” she said. “Are you a friend of Benjamin's?”

“Yes, ma'am. And I think he'll feel better if I visit him.” Cody stuck a hand in his jeans pocket and closed it around the pill bottle. He had to get these three out of here. Get them to leave him alone with the kid for a few minutes, and then he could get the first pill down him.

“Oh, dear,” she said.

“Young man,” said Wilhelm, hunkering down on his haunches, “I'm sorry to tell you that Benjamin is quite ill. He can't have visitors.”

“But I'm already here,” Cody countered. “So you might as well just give me a few minutes to—”

“Mrs. Haversham, do you know this child?”

“No,” she replied. Then, to Cody, she said, “I know it's hard to understand, but truly, it's for your own good, dear.”

“Oh, I understand just fine. You think I'll catch the fever if I go near Ben. But I already had it, a long time ago, so I'm immune. Honest.”

The two finest scientists since Louis Pasteur exchanged glances. One pulled his glasses down to the bridge of his nose and peered over the tops of them at Cody. “What does a boy of your age know about contagions and immunity?”

Cody only shrugged.

“How did you get into this bedroom, young man?” the man asked yet again.

“I told you, I came to see Benjamin. Just started trying doors, and here I am.”

The other man pursed his lips, shook his head slowly. “And is Mr. Bolton aware of your presence in his home, young man?”

“Sure,” Cody said, having a brainstorm.

“Impossible,” the man returned, looking pleased with himself. “He's gone into town to fetch the doctor.”

“He's gone, all right, but you don't have a clue—”

“Mrs. Haversham, send one of the servants for a constable. We shall find this lad's parents and get to the bottom of this.”

“Very well, sir,” she said, with a remorseful glance at Cody and a click of her tongue. She moved to the door, opened it. One of the men reached out, as if to grab Cody's arm, but he was quicker than both of them. He ducked the grab, and shot between them, under Mrs. Haversham's beefy arm, and into the hall, straight out to the stairway. They spun around, shouting and chasing after him, but he leaped onto the banister with the ease of practice, slid to the bottom and jumped to the floor. He heard their feet pounding down the stairs, heard one of them saying, “Stop him! He might be carrying the fever!”

Cody raced through the kitchen, and straight out the door.

 

Zach wasn't so involved in tinkering with the small, dismantled box that he didn't notice Jane. In
fact, he came very close to asking her to leave the room. Having her here, so close, made it difficult to stop noticing her, to stop remembering what it had felt like to be…with her. It was the first time in his life a woman had managed to shake him so thoroughly, or to touch him on such a deep level. Or to distract him from his work. Oh, there had been women. God, had there been women. But none had come anywhere close to breaking his concentration this way.

Only Jane.

And his thoughts were anything but lascivious. That he could have understood. But this…this constant glancing over his shoulder at her, with some kind of gut-deep worry gnawing at him…this was beyond his experience. And his understanding. Women had no place in his life, aside from the bedroom. That was the way it had to be for him. He'd made that decision long ago, when selfish, society-conscious Claudia drove a blade into his young heart. But he'd healed. And then he'd enclosed that vulnerable organ within its own custom-made suit of armor, and vowed he would never leave it so exposed again.

And it was a vow he'd kept…until now.

Jane sat with her legs curled beneath her on Cody's bed. Strewn about her were open books, a notepad and a couple of pencils. She'd asked what she might do to help, and he'd suggested she put her penchant for history to use. She was reading all the information she could find on his two colleagues and their development of tryptonine. Once they returned to the past, Zach was hoping, they'd find a way to
save both the boys and still not interfere with the subsequent development of the drug.

Meanwhile, Zach tinkered with the device itself. All her information would be utterly useless unless he could repair the damage and make the thing operable. He'd already figured out how to get to the exact point in time where Cody had gone. According to the figures he'd keyed into Cody's computer machine, with two days' worth of recharged power, Cody would have gone back to one day before Zach left the past. He and Jane would try to go back that far, as well, though there might be complications to doing so. He'd worry about that when the time came. He didn't want to allow time for anything to happen to Cody.

He set his mess aside and again scrolled the information he and Cody had spent hours keying into the boy's computer, but wound up sighing in frustration.

Bedsprings creaked, and in a second Jane's hands closed on his shoulders and began massaging him. It startled him that she'd be so kind to him, despite their being of opposing points of view in this crisis. It also confused him. Mainly because her touch brought desire for her rushing back into his loins, and because she smelled so damned good.

“We've been at it for hours,” she said. “Time for a short break.”

Her voice was hoarse from all the crying she'd done earlier, and Zach experienced another stab of concern for her. She was half out of her mind with worry for her son. He knew. God, how well he knew. Her thumbs pressed into the backs of his shoulders
while her fingers kneaded and rubbed the front. He arched his back, closed his eyes. What she was doing felt wonderful.

“It's not the time bending over the worktable that's getting me,” he told her as he let his head drop forward. “I'm used to that. It's the frustration.”

Her hands stilled. Crying shame, that.

“Then you aren't getting anywhere?”

“Actually, I am. But I know I'd be getting there a lot faster if I were making the most of this…computer of Cody's.” He shook his head, frowning at the screen. “I considered myself a genius in my own time,” he said. “Now I feel like an ignorant fool.”

Her hands began working their magic once more. “You're no fool, Zach.”

“No? Even a small child knows more about science today than I. I'm baffled by your televisions and microwaves and aeroplanes. By today's standards, Jane, I'm not fit to graduate primary school.”

“You're forgetting one thing,” she said, working up and down the back of his neck, and making him curious as to what other magic her hands could perform.

“What's that?” he asked.

“Not even the most accomplished physicist has managed to travel through time, Zach. Not with the help of high-powered computers, or even data gathered from outer space. Yet you did, with tools considered primitive by our standards. You did what they all still believe is impossible.”

He turned to look up at her. “I did, at that, didn't I?”

She nodded. “Yes. Which is why I know you're going to find a solution to this disaster.” Her eyes were deadly serious. “You have to, Zach. I'm counting on it.”

He lowered his eyes. God, but he didn't want to let her down. Having a woman counting on him, believing in him, for any reason, was such an unusual feeling that he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

“Those circles under your eyes are coming back,” she told him. “Look, I'm as eager as you are to solve this thing, but I think you'll work better if you rest for a few minutes. Get something to eat. I think we should stop for a sandwich, and a few minutes to rest our eyes.”

He managed to conjure up a gentle smile, and he stroked her hair, something he was growing ridiculously fond of doing. “We're going to get your Cody back, Jane. I promise.”

She tried to avert her face before he saw her tears, but didn't quite succeed. He was too astute, or perhaps just too focused on every aspect of her, to miss one so vital. “You must think I'm the most selfish person alive. I was so against all of this when it suited me. And now I'm…”

He surged to his feet, capturing her pretty face between his palms, caressing it with his eyes. “Now you're a mother, Jane. And like any mother, you'll do whatever it takes to protect your child. I don't find that selfish at all…. In fact, it…”

Shaking her head slowly, she whispered, “It what?”

Zach dipped his head, unable to look into her eyes just then. But when he brought his gaze level, he
found himself drowning in hers all over again. “It makes you even more beautiful to me, Jane. And no, don't accuse me of using what you refer to as a line. It's true, and every bit as unbelievable to me as it probably seems to you. I've never in my life noticed much about any woman, aside from the way she filled out her bloomers. But with you…” He didn't finish the sentence, didn't even know how, really.

She searched his face. “I hope to God Cody is all right.”

“Cody is nothing less than brilliant. With his wit, he'll manage just fine until we get to him.”

She nodded. “I know he will.”

“So, how about some sandwiches?”

 

For some reason she couldn't have named, Jane believed every word that smooth-talking ladies' man Zachariah Bolton said. He told her everything would be all right, and heaven help her, she accepted it as gospel. Had she lost her mind?

No. No, that wasn't it at all, she thought as she made a pair of sandwiches and laid them on paper plates. She believed the man because she was fairly certain there wasn't much he set his mind to doing that didn't get done.

That thought niggled at her a little, because it seemed Zach had also set his mind to sweet-talking his way into her heart. Intentionally or not, that was what he was chipping away at, and had been since the day he stepped out of time and into her life. He was…he was mischievous and brilliant, and sexy, and she could fall for him fast and hard. Seemed she hadn't learned as much from the past as she thought
she had. Keeping her heart immune to the considerable charms of Zachariah Bolton was a matter of self-preservation. He'd be leaving soon. Very soon. She'd find a way to bring Cody back here, and he'd return to the past and try to cure his own son. And that was where he would stay. In the past. Jane couldn't afford to go forming any attachments to Zach.

But she did have utmost confidence in his ability to pull this off. He'd travelled a hundred years forward in time, she told herself. It stood to reason that he could do just about anything. Rescuing one little boy wouldn't be all that much harder.

Two little boys, she corrected herself with a pang of guilt. Two. Cody, and Benjamin. His son. She'd thought she understood what drove him before, and she'd thought her own practical point of view was the correct one. Now she knew she'd have done the same thing if she was in his shoes and she had the means. Nature couldn't be completely overpowered. Any parent alive would damn the world to save his or her own child. It was simply the way it was.