A Husband in Time (9 page)

Zach pushed a hand through his hair. “If your mother finds out—”

“Did you get it?” Cody asked again, urgency in his tone.

“Yes. I got it.”

“How?” Cody shook Zach's arm. “How, Zach?”

“I broke a window, reached through and unlocked the door. The cabinet was right where you told m—”

“You shoulda waited for me!” Cody rasped. “Darn it all, Zach, there's an alarm on that door. Doc
has to punch in a code, even though he has a key. If you don't…I think the sheriff…”

“Let's get out of here.” Taking Cody's arm, Zach raced around the building, through the damp grass. He crossed the road, in the darkness. His breaths made little puffs of steam.

“We'll never make it, Zach. That alarm probably went off as soon as you opened the darn door. Man, we shoulda brought my bike.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Zach said, glancing at a vehicle in the distance with flashing red lights on the top. “Is that—?”

“Yeah, that's Sheriff O'Donnell. Boy, are we in trouble! My mom's gonna
kill
us.” Cody turned in a circle, then paused, at the sight of another vehicle approaching rapidly from the opposite direction. “Look, Zach! I think it's… Yeah! It's Mom! C'mon!”

Gripping Zach's hand, Cody raced toward the approaching vehicle, and away from the one with the red lights. It was dark, and the sheriff's headlamps hadn't yet fallen on them. Zach didn't think the sheriff had seen them. Yet.

“She'll be mad as all get-out,” Cody panted, still running and clinging to Zach's hand. “But at least she'll keep us outta jail!”

 

She couldn't believe it. She could not believe what she was seeing. Her son. Her ten-year-old genius son, running away from a police car in the middle of the night, like some kind of fugitive. She gunned the accelerator, sped up beside them and skidded to a stop.

Cody yanked the back door open, and the two of them dived into the back seat just as Quigly O'Donnell's cruiser pulled up beside Jane's car.

“Sit there and look innocent,” she ordered. She rolled her window down as Quigly sauntered across the street, looking serious.

“Hello, Sheriff,” she said, and tried to sound cheerful, which was difficult, given the fact that she was grating her teeth behind her smile.

“Well, now, Jane Fortune! What in the world are you doing driving around town this time of the night?” He braced his hands on the driver's door and leaned closer.

“Couldn't sleep,” she blurted.

Quigly frowned. “Ayuh. And they couldn't, either?” He nodded to the two in the back seat.

“Oh…well, no. None of us could. You see, my, uh…my cat disappeared today, and we were worried. So we decided to drive around and see if we could find her.” It was, she thought, the perfect answer. Quigly O'Donnell was a known animal lover. She caught Cody's smirk in the rearview mirror and realized he'd caught her lying again. Fine example of motherhood she was turning out to be.

“That's too bad,” the sheriff said, rubbing his chin with one hand. “And here I didn't even know you
had
a cat. Any sign of her?”

“No, not yet.”

“Well, now, don't you worry. Just give me a description, and I'll keep an eye out.”

“Uh…sure. She's, um…”

“Black,” Cody helpfully supplied. Unfortunately,
he blurted it out at the same moment his mother said, “White” and Zach said, “Cinnamon.”

Jane shot the two bigmouths a glare, then turned to the sheriff again, smiling. “Calico.”

“I see. She wearin' a collar?”

“Shouldn't this wait for another time, Sheriff? I don't want to keep you. You were obviously on business.” She nodded toward the still-flashing lights.

“Ayuh, but nothing too urgent. Doc Mulligan's alarm went off again. Third time this month. I have to head over there and check it out, but I do believe he has a critter living in his office. Sets off the motion detector when it crosses the beam, you know. Squirrel or a mouse or something. Say, why did you pull over out here? Did you see something?”

“Uh…no. I mean…just your lights. I thought it was the law, you know, pulling over when…”

“Well, not when you're headin' the opposite direction.”

“Oh.”

He stuck his head right in her window. “You must be Bolton. I heard you were, er…staying with
Miss
Fortune.”

“Renting a room, actually. Good to meet you, Sheriff.” Zach thrust one hand over the seat to shake Quigly's.

“Renting a room, eh?” It was obvious the man doubted that little ploy. “Well, it's a pleasure, Bolton. I'd best be on my way, take a look around the doc's place.” He touched the brim of his hat. “I'll keep an eye out for that cat of yours, Jane.”

“Night,” she said, and pulled the car into gear.

 

She paced. Back and forth across the sizable living room, crossing between Zach's easy chair and the red-orange glow in the fireplace, again and again. And he watched, waited, feeling a bit the way he had when Headmistress Landon had caught him smuggling that pet mouse into primary school so long ago. Although Miss Landon had never looked quite as attractive as Jane did right now. She was even prettier in her anger, and that struck him as unusual in a woman. Her eyes sparkled with it. Her smooth cheeks had taken on a cherry gleam, and her lips were slightly parted.

Cody had wisely chosen to obey without question when she sent him straight up to bed. The little hellion got him in all sorts of hot water and then skinned out at the first opportunity, leaving Zach to face the music alone.

Smart boy.

Oh, well. At least it had given him the chance to see Jane this way. It wasn't a sight he'd forget anytime soon.

She paused in her pacing and looked at him. He decided to face the music, cleared his throat and said, “I had no idea Cody was following me.”

She rolled her eyes, shook her head.

“I slipped out very quietly, Jane. I thought you were both sound asleep. I wouldn't involve the boy in a theft. You must believe that.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“I have a son of my own, Jane. I'm a parent, too.”

That soft chin came down, the clenched jaw eased a little, and air rushed from her lips in a sigh. “I
know. Okay, Zach, I believe you. But I told you not to—”

“Try to imagine yourself in my place, just for a moment.”

Jane's thickly lashed eyes slammed closed, as if, perhaps, she didn't want to imagine any such thing. But, perhaps, was doing so anyway.

“Your son—your Cody—lies dying of the fever. And a mile from you, under lock and key, is a drug that can save him. Would you go after it?” He got to his feet and went to her, cradled her chin in his palm and lifted it, very gently, so that he could look into those stunning eyes. “Would you, Jane, even though some very beautiful, very wise person had advised against it?”

She held his gaze. “You know I would.”

He smiled, nodding as his hand fell to his side again. “And I knew you'd answer honestly. I have it now, Jane.” He took the small plastic pill bottle from his pocket, set it on the coffee table and stared at it, barely able to contain his joy. “I can save my Benjamin. If I can just get back to him, I can—”

“No, Zach,” she whispered. “No, you can't.”

He frowned and felt his smile slowly die. “Of course I can.”

“Zach…” She shook her head as if in frustration. “Look, there's something I haven't told you. I thought it could wait until you were feeling better, stronger— No, that's a lie. I was waiting because I didn't want to tell you. I couldn't find the words, and I don't want to see the hatred in your eyes when I—” She bit her lip.

“Jane.” She stopped her rambling, looked at him,
and to Zach's surprise there were tears standing in her eyes. His own reflection shimmered in them. The sight of those tears alarmed him beyond all common sense. So much so that he found himself gripping her shoulders, searching her face. “My God, Jane, what is it?”

She sniffed once, and then seemed to draw herself up. “Quinaria fever was cured because of Benjamin's death,” she told him. “When you disappeared, Zach, your colleagues, Waterson and Bausch, came together. Instead of competing against one another, they worked together to develop a cure, and they did. They did it in tribute to you, Zach, and to your loss. The loss of all those other lives was never enough to inspire them the way the loss of a man they considered to be the finest scientific mind of their time did. They thought you'd gone insane when Benjamin died, and you disappeared. They blamed it on the fever.”

Zach blinked down at her, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It's all here,” she said as she turned from him to pick up the large book that laid on the table. “Zach, if you save your son, those men won't find a cure. Maybe no one will. If you change the past that way—” she shook her head slowly “—then what becomes of the present? How many hundreds of people will die? And how many thousands of their descendants will never be born? What about—”

“Stop!” Zach turned away from her, pressing his hands to his ears. Because he couldn't bear to hear her, and know she was right. So right, and yet she hadn't even touched on the magnitude of the impli
cations. The way the life—or the death—of one little boy could change the world as she knew it. The succession of other research that had likely sprung from what science learned in curing one disease had probably led to cures for several others. All of that might be lost. And the victims those diseases took…. some of them might turn out to be today's most influential figures. What would Jane's world look like if they'd never been born, because their ancestors had died of something that should have been cured?

Soft hands came to his shoulders from behind. They squeezed, and then Jane's head lowered to rest lightly against his back. “I'm sorry.”

“I can't…” he said, then had to pause to clear his throat. “I can't simply give up, Jane. There has to be a way.”

“You can't change history without impacting the present…and the future. Anything you do in the past is going to have repercussions, Zach. It's like throwing a pebble into still water. The ripples go on and on.”

He turned around, facing her. “I will not allow my child to die when I have the means to save him.”

“I know it's—”

“I can't, Jane. And I
won't.
”

“You're a scientist. Think about what could happen, Zach, think about mankind.”

“I don't give a damn about mankind!” he shouted. “I want my son!” And then his knees seemed to buckle beneath him, and he found himself on the floor, one fisted hand on the easy chair to keep himself upright. He closed his eyes and let his chin fall, because he couldn't bear for this strong woman
to see him cry. “I just want my son,” he whispered once more.

Before he saw her move, she was kneeling there with him, facing him. Her arms slipped around his waist, silk-wrapped steel. She drew him closer, like a mother cradling her child, and she held him to her breast, rocking slowly as her palms made soothing patterns over his back and shoulders. “I know,” she whispered. “I know, Zach, I know.”

His cheeks were damp, but he wasn't certain whether the tears were hers or his own. “I can't give up on him, Jane. Sweet Jesus forgive me, but I can't.” He twisted his arms around her, clinging to her as if to salvation.

“Maybe there
is
a way.” She turned her face to his, kissed his mouth, drank their mingled tears from his lips. She lifted her head, searching his eyes. “I've been going crazy trying to think of some way…and if there is, Zach, we'll find it. I promise you that. But if there isn't…”

“There has to be!” He held her tighter.

Her sob was wrenched from her breast, and she buried her face in his neck. They knelt like that for a long moment, clinging to each other as Jane cried softly. Finally she sniffed, and straightened. “For now, Zach, just for now, rest. You're sick and exhausted and half out of your mind. Rest.”

Zach lifted his head to stare into Jane's eyes. He couldn't hate her, couldn't even be angry with her for what she'd pointed out. It was nothing less than the truth. Her tear-dampened eyes met his, clung to them as if in a spiritual embrace. She got to her feet then and, bending low, she took his hands and drew
him up, as well. Taking three steps backward, Jane stopped when she stood beside the sofa, still not letting go. So Zach let his numb legs carry him where she led. He sat down when she guided his body to do so. He felt dazed, shocked. His mind swirled as he sought a solution, but he was too devastated to see one.

She knelt in front of him and took off his shoes, peeled the socks away. “Put your feet up, Zachariah. Go on.”

He did as she said. His mind buzzed. What if he—No, that wouldn't work. Jane seemed to melt away, only to return a second later with pills in her palm. She tucked them between his lips. Her fingers tasted salty and cool. He took the drink she offered, swallowed the tablets, his mind still awash in possibilities. Seemed Jane Fortune had a pill for everything. But not one to cure this nightmare. Maybe nothing could.

Jane sat on the end of the sofa, and she caught his shoulders, drawing him downward until his head rested in her lap. And he thought very briefly of the silken thighs beneath his cheek, and the way he'd like to touch them…kiss them. Anything to forget this awful pain.

She pressed her forefingers to his temples and began rubbing tiny circles there. Sleep came slowly, as he stared up at her looking down at him. Her face became the face of an angel, and then blurred and dissolved into nothingness.

 

Cody sat at the top of the stairs, and he tried not to cry like a baby, the way the grown-ups had. All
his life, all he'd wanted was a little brother. Someone he could watch out for, and play with, and teach. And since Zach had come here, he'd begun to feel like he really had one. Little Benjamin, just a few years younger, sick and needing help. Sure, he was far away, out of reach, but Cody still felt close to him. He'd felt like a big brother as he helped Zach find a way to save little Ben. And then those stupid grown-ups had to go and ruin it with all their “good of mankind” talk.