A Husband in Time (13 page)

Zach straightened up, his eyes moist, his jaw taut. “Come on. An earlier version of me is liable to show up at any moment. Help me…” He put his arm around her shoulders, bracing himself against her as if he'd fall down without her help. “Get me to my…your…” He lifted his brows. “Our bedroom. No one will bother us there, and we can plot our next move.”

She nodded and helped him into the hall.

 

Cody waited until it was late enough that he figured everyone would be asleep. And then he went back to the house. He had several advantages, and he'd spent his time listing them, one by one, to build up his confidence. One was that he was a lot smarter than just about anyone else in this century. Nothing to be vain about, just that he came from a more enlightened time. So he ought to be able to outwit every last one of them, right down to Eli Waterson and Wilhelm Bausch. That thought made him smile a little. Imagine outwitting two genius scientists.

Another advantage was that he knew the house like the back of his hand. He'd explored it thoroughly since he and his mom had moved in. And he knew how to get in, even if it was locked up tight. He also knew which room was Ben's. And he had his penlight. Perfect. Advantage number four was that no one was expecting him. So he had the element of surprise on his side.

Now, he also had a couple of things working against him, the main one being that the medication was supposed to be taken over a period of several days, every four hours. If he gave Ben a dose now, and then missed one later, the whole treatment would have to start over, and he only had enough pills to do this once. So there was no way he could leave Ben in that house. He had to get him out of there. And he had to do it tonight.

Cody plotted and planned until the wee hours. And then he gathered up every bit of courage he had, and he tiptoed out of the barn and back to the deserted road.

The road was in worse shape than ever. No hint of pavement, no fresh gravel. Just packed dirt. It wasn't wide enough for two cars to pass safely, and there was only one sign on the whole thing, as far as he could see. A wooden board nailed to a post. Someone had painted Rockwell on the sign, and one end had been sawed off to a point. Cody picked up his pace. He thought that if he squinted until his eyes went out of focus, and didn't pay too much attention to details, it was just like being back home. Only…it truly wasn't. It felt different. Even the air seemed different.

Something clattered and clunked, and Cody went stiff. Then he kicked himself into high gear, and dived into the bushes along the roadside, crouching there and watching the road behind him, as bright as day beneath the moon.

The sounds grew louder, and then the thing making them came into view. A horse, wearing blinders and all kinds of straps. A big black horse, pulling a big, wobbling buggy behind it, and it was headed toward Rockwell. Cody shook his head in stark wonder as the wooden wheels, trimmed in metal, rolled and squeaked past him. The seat inside looked like soft brown velvet, with little buttons all over it. A man and a lady rode on that seat, the lady wearing a striped dress and a hat that almost made Cody laugh out loud. So did the man's long, curled mustache, which was so well waxed it gleamed in the moon's reflection. His bowler hat was almost as good.

Cody bit back his grin and shook his head in wonder. He really had traveled a century into the past, hadn't he? Gosh. It was unbelievable, but he'd done it.

And now he had to do something even harder. Save a little boy who had no hope left except for him.

Unlike Zach, Cody hadn't suffered any ill effects from coming through. He'd had a slight headache that lasted a couple of hours, nothing else.

He felt just fine now. So when the buggy had passed, he clambered right back onto the road, and headed for the house, faster this time. He was getting antsy, and he wanted this over with. There was only
one light on, and he knew well enough that it was in Ben's room. He walked around the house, just as quiet as he could, looked around once, and then bent to the hatchway door that led into the cellar. Mom kept this door padlocked, but it seemed like locks weren't as necessary in this past. The door opened, creaked loud, making Cody grate his teeth. Then he ducked inside, lowering the door behind him and pulling out his penlight.

He didn't intend to take time to look around. The place was creepy, anyway. Dark and unfinished. Dirt floor, instead of the cement he was used to. No lights. No washer and dryer in the corner. No boxy metal furnace to keep the place warm. There was a giant hulking iron thing, with an orange-red glow spilling from its every crevice, of which there were many. And a pile of what looked like coal sitting beside it.

Shining his penlight ahead of him, Cody made his way to the stairs, and tiptoed up them. The door at the top had a hook and eye for a lock. It did in his time, anyway. He hoped that was the case here, because if it was he could open it. He'd played around trying to once, when he and some friends played hide and seek down here. At the top of the cellar stairs, Cody listened, heard no one. Then he pulled his library card from his jeans pocket, and slid it into the crack between the door and the frame. Slowly he moved the card upward, and soon he felt the resistance of the hook. He lifted it, jiggled the card a little and smiled when he heard the pinging sound as the hook fell against the door on the other side. Then he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Pitch-dark in the kitchen. Good thing he knew his
way around. He slipped through, clicking off his penlight and sticking it back into his pocket. He got through the dining room, too, and then the living room, where he went even more slowly as he approached the stairs. He thought he heard someone moving around up there, but when he went still and quiet, he decided it had only been his imagination.

Silently he moved up the stairs, and turned toward Ben's room. But then he stiffened, because voices were coming from beyond the door. And then footsteps. Cody almost passed out from fear, and then he slipped farther down the hall and ducked into the hall closet.

 

Jane swallowed hard as she stood silently in the bedroom, staring down at the small, pale-faced little boy. Benjamin, his breathing labored, dark circles ringing his thickly lashed eyes, laid sleeping, his hand clasped in a larger, fleshier one. The woman had fallen asleep in the hard wooden chair beside the bed. Jane could see only the back of her bowed head, her plump, slumped shoulders. And then, as she stood there, wondering how in the world she would handle it when the woman turned and looked at her, she stiffened, straightened in the chair and did just that.

“What—who are you? How did you get—?”

Jane held up a hand to calm the startled woman. “It's all right, Mrs. Haversham. I'm a friend…of Zachariah's. Is he here?”

The woman rose, smoothing her dress's long, rumpled skirts, blinking the sleep haze from her eyes. “No. No, and I've no idea where he's gone.”

Jane frowned. Neither she nor Zach had known what to expect. The prospect of meeting another Zach, one who didn't know her, had been so absurd it made her dizzy. “Are you certain? This is very important. I have to know—”

“If Zachariah were here, don't you think he'd be at his son's side? When we've barely been able to pry him from this room long enough to eat or to sleep? No, miss. Zachariah seems to have vanished without a trace, and I'm worried to death about him.” The woman's lower lip trembled, and she clutched at her apron, wringing it in her hands.

Jane stepped closer, her throat tightening, and put a hand on the woman's shoulder. “It's all right. It's going to be all right. But I need your help, Mrs. Haversham. I'm looking for my son, Cody. He's missing, and I—”

“Your son?” the woman repeated, and it seemed she calmed considerably. “Young boy…looks enough like Benjamin to be his twin, only older and a good deal healthier?”

“Yes! Then he's here?”

“No, I'm afraid not. He was, of course, but that was earlier, and— Land sakes, the boy never made it home?”

Jane closed her eyes as tears threatened. “No.”

“Lord,” the woman muttered, shaking her head. “The lad was upset that we couldn't let him see Benjamin. Lit out of here like a bandit, and heaven only knows where he got himself off to. But don't you worry, missy, I'm sure he'll find his way home.” Then she tilted her head and frowned at Jane, eyeing her jeans and T-shirt with a puzzled expression.
“And where is your home, if you don't mind my asking?”

“Far away,” Jane said. She fought the bitter disappointment that made her want to sink to her knees and cry. She battled the worry over Cody, tried not to let herself panic at the thought of him out there, alone in the night somewhere. She cleared her throat and brought her focus back to the questions that needed to be asked. If there were two Zachariah Boltons running around this house right now, and they happened to run into each other, God only knew what the results might be. “I need to know, ma'am, when did you discover Zach was missing?”

The pale blue eyes welled up with tears. “An hour ago, miss. When I came in to check on Benjamin and saw this chair empty. I knew something was wrong. Zachariah hasn't left his son's side in days, except to go and fetch Doc Baker when things look bad.” Her eyes turned pleading. “I searched the house through, but there was no sign of Zachariah anywhere, and no one saw him leave. Please, miss, if you know where he is…”

“I'm here, Mrs. Haversham.”

The bedroom door stood open, and Zach stepped through it. Jane gasped as she whirled around and saw him there, uncertain which Zach this man might be. He met her gaze, nodded once. “Hello again, Jane.”

Her breath escaped her in a rush, and her muscles seemed to go limp in relief.

“Merciful heavens, Zachariah. I've been frightened to death!”

“I'm sorry I worried you,” Zach told the woman.
“But I'm here now. Why don't you go on back to bed? You need your rest, you know.”

Mrs. Haversham looked worriedly at Benjamin, who was still sleeping soundly. “I'll go,” she said. “But call if you need me.”

“Of course I will.” Zach hugged the woman briefly, and then she left them. His gaze shifted to his son, and he closed his eyes.

She wanted to go to him, touch him. She wanted to feel his arms around her, and hear his strong, confident voice telling her that Cody would be all right, that they'd find him. But his confident air was nowhere in sight right now. When he looked at his dying child, he was the one who needed comforting.

“Cody?” he asked, not taking his eyes from his son.

“He was here,” Jane told him. “But he ran away. Zach, where could he be?”

Zach closed his eyes, moved toward the chair. “I don't know.”

He turned as if to sit, but Jane caught his arm and pulled. “No, Zach. You're not going to slip right back into your role of sitting here watching your son fade away. I'm not going to let you. We have to find Cody.”

“My son is dying,” he muttered, pulling free of her.

“And mine has the drug that will cure him.”

He blinked at her as if he'd gone blank for a moment. Gave his head a shake. “You're right.” The words came out on a deep sigh. “Of course, you're right.”

Jane shook her head, pacing the room. “I don't
get this. We came back here on the day before you left, didn't we? I mean, you seemed so sure. But if that's the case, then why isn't there another you, sitting here? Why—?” She turned to face him, pushing both hands through her hair. “This is so confusing.”

“It seems to me that it would be physically impossible for a man to exist in two places at the same time. I couldn't be in the room down the hall, and here, in this room, at once. It simply could not happen.”

“Then where did…the other one…go?”

Zach got up and walked to the window, parting the curtains to stare at something outside. “I don't know, Jane. But I do know we came back farther, if only by a day. That's certain.”

Jane came to stand beside him, following his gaze. “How can you be so sure?”

“There was a thunderstorm on the night before I went forward. Lightning struck that barn, the one you can see in the distance. A little after 9:00 p.m.” He pointed, and she saw the decrepit-looking building. “It burned to the ground within an hour, Jane.”

She bit her lip, nodded. “Okay. All right, then we know we're here a day earlier, and we know the other Zach vaporized or something when we came through.”

“No. I think…I think I somehow merged with him…with me. It's odd, Jane—I remember everything about my trip to the future, but I also remember being here by my son's bedside an hour ago, holding his hand and praying for a miracle.”

A cold shiver worked up Jane's spine.

“Father?”

The weak voice coming from the bed made them both turn quickly. Zach rushed forward and bent over the bed, gathering his son into his arms. “I'm sorry, Benjamin. Did we wake you?”

“No,” he said. Jane winced at the thinness of his arms, the whiteness of his skin. “My head hurts. That's what woke me up, I think.”

“Well, then, I'll get you something for it,” Zach said, standing again, running gentle, soothing hands over his son's head. “And I'll put it in some warm chocolate, since I know how you hate the taste.”

The boy smiled and leaned back on the pillows. “I love you, Father.”

“And I you, Benjamin. More than you know.”

Then those curious green eyes landed on Jane, narrowed briefly, then widened. “Are you her? Are you?”

Jane frowned sending a questioning glance to Zach. He only lifted his brows, shook his head slightly, obviously having no more idea than she did what the boy was talking about. “Am I who, sweetheart?”

“The mother! The one I wished for when I saw the shooting stars! I knew you'd come. Oh, I knew you would. You're just as pretty as I wished you'd be. And—” His words were interrupted by a bout of coughing that racked his reed-thin body.