Breathless (8 page)

Belle leaned in over the tea table. “You haven’t reconsidered our agreement, have you?”

The fear she read in Belle’s gaze tore at her heart. “Of course not. I haven’t discussed it with Colt, though. That may take a few days.” She couldn’t promise anything to anyone here if she wasn’t destined to stay in Stella’s body.

Belle nodded and studied her over her fine china teacup. The gold rim was unmarred by use. The pattern was new, but was antique and elegant to Blue’s eyes. She’d seen it before in shops filled with collectibles and estate sale items.

More proof she’d always been meant to be here. Why else would she have been born with an interest in old things? She always loved museums and junk shops. She hadn’t been able to afford to buy antiques, but she’d always liked looking.

Her arrival here must be a correction. If a mistake occurred when Stella had been killed, she was the replacement.

“Belle, do you believe in destiny?”

She rolled her eyes. “I believe we’re meant to look after ourselves and our families.”

“And the women you employ?”

Belle blinked several times. “Before you found me, they were my family. So I take care of them, invest their savings, if they’re smart enough to have any, and make sure they’re healthy and safe.”

“You have no idea how rare you are, do you?”

Color suffused her smooth cheeks. Belle and Stella hadn’t been raised together. Their connection was more of the heart than any familial bond. And Belle was a crackerjack businesswoman with socially liberal leanings.

Blue liked her immensely. “I’m honored that you’d ask me to help you with your situation. If Colt refuses to agree, I’ll do it alone.” Blue’s opinion of fathers, especially stepfathers, had been formed early. But those times were looser when it came to family ties.

“Colt Stephens will understand and accept the responsibility. He’s a good man,” Belle said with a wistful smile. “And good men are rare. And I’ll be right here, always.” The simmering fear behind her expression eased.

“He is a good man.” She felt heat rise in her cheeks. She wanted more than anything to have Colt agree to this plan between the sisters, but if he didn’t, she’d have to buck society and be a single mother. For Belle’s sake.

“Colt cares for you, Stella. Deeply.” Belle patted her hand in comfort. “Have no fear. Things will work out as they should. You asked if I believe in destiny. Perhaps it was destiny that helped you find me when you decided to look.”

“I think you’re right.” Belle had no idea how right she was!

No way could Blue let Colt think she was committed, then disappear on him. She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t continue the cycle of abandonment. Belle’s child needed her.

“Thank you, Dr. Stephens,” Billy Walker said after a poke on the shoulder from his mother. She nodded and tugged the boy by his suspenders until he followed her out the examination room door.

With luck, his fever would break tonight and he’d be better by morning. His mother had no other children, so she tended to panic at the first sniffle. A more experienced woman would have tossed the lad under the covers, given him soup, and kept him at home.

He’d tried all day to set aside thoughts of Stella and her refusal, but he’d failed miserably. The wonderful independent streak that he appreciated in the woman might ruin whatever chance he had with her. He’d offered marriage because he wanted to marry her. If he’d wanted to dally with her, that’s what he’d have offered, a dalliance.

A woman like Stella couldn’t possibly prefer an affair over the joys of marriage. She confounded him completely.

He opened the door to his office with too much force, startling Mr. O’Reilly, who perched on the edge of his seat facing Colt’s desk. “What can I do for you today, Mr. O’Reilly?”

“Nothin’, it’s the missus, she thinks I need seein’ to, and she won’t let up.”

Colt took his seat behind his desk, determined to put Stella out of his mind. But O’Reilly had the same color eyes as the wayward midwife, and Colt had the devil’s own time to keep his mind on his patient.

Damn woman! He had a mind to retract his proposal and to hell with her. “Won’t let up, eh? Women can get under your skin, now can’t they?”

“Nags, that’s what,” O’Reilly said. “But truth be told, Doc, I have occasions where my left arm tingles. I recall my father having similar before he passed.”

Colt nodded as he threw himself wholeheartedly into the conversation. He couldn’t allow thoughts of Stella to interfere any longer. One way or another, he would settle his thorny problem with Stella tonight.

Come hell or high water.

At Perdition House, the telephone on Belle’s desk rang. When Belle answered, Blue motioned that she’d be back in five. She tucked her paper package under her arm and slipped out to the hall. No one else was around, so she belted it up the stairs as quickly as she could. Oh, this body was healthy.

The dash up the stairs felt wonderful. Her lungs heaved by the third floor, but she couldn’t recall ever being able to work her own heart and lungs this way.

At the top floor, she searched the ceiling for a way up into the attic. At the back of a short hall, she found a square hatch built into the ceiling. Embedded at one end was a brass ring.

In the corner, she spied a pole with a brass hook at the end. She hooked the hook into the ring and pulled. A set of stairs smoothly descended to the floor.

With one more glance around to see that no one watched her, Blue climbed the stairs into the attic.

There were beds up here! Alcoves in the windows held single beds with washstands and basins. Narrow closets were set between the beds to give the appearance of privacy. The windows were wide open to catch the breezes.

She hadn’t considered how many staff would be needed to keep a house of this size running. She didn’t see any insulation in the rafters, though. Maybe these beds were used only in the busier summer season.

But with people using these quarters she needed to hurry, in case she was discovered.

On the opposite wall were trunks and boxes and racks of clothing and accessories. Racks of old shoes, dressmaker’s forms, and huge hats with long feathers and wide brims took half the space. One of the dressmaker’s forms sported a bustle. Thanking her stars for the change in fashion, she shifted her way to the back of the trunks. Anything toward the front of the stacks was likely to belong to some of the newer arrivals.

She had to find something that looked like it had been here a while and wasn’t likely to leave.

Against the wall, she found exactly what she needed. A heavy royal blue travel trunk with brass corners and a locking latch. The engraved letters
IG
on the lock flap told her the trunk belonged to Isabelle Grantham.

She lifted the lid and inhaled the scent of cedar. Wow, she’d spared no expense.

But with a tour of Europe coming up, the trunk would be used soon. She had to find something else.

An older box with a crooked homemade lid caught her eye. The name carved into the lid was familiar. She’d seen it in Stella’s files. A young woman who wouldn’t need the box again. Colt had reviewed the case with her, and they agreed Stella had done all that it was possible to do for the woman.

This was the trunk she needed to use.

When the luggage for the tour was sorted out, she would be here to make certain this trunk was shoved into a corner and forgotten. Not that Belle would want to use it, but she might decide to throw it out.

When she’d first tried on the corset in TimeStop, Faye had told her it had been found in perfect condition in a trunk in the attic of her home.

This trunk. This home. Perdition House.

The corset and the whorehouse attic were her only connection to the future.

She untied the string on her package and brought out the corset, wrapped in soft linen. Inside the trunk, she found a diary written by the owner. She flipped through and knew she had to leave the diary with the corset. Perhaps Faye would assume the corset belonged to the diary’s owner. She covered the diary with the corset and laid both to rest in the bottom of the dead girl’s trunk. On top, she set the note she’d spent hours composing.

This corset is for Blue McCann. She’ll understand it’s for her when she sees it
.

And she
had
understood it was hers. Blue had wanted the corset at first sight. The fine hand stitching had called to her every time she’d walked by TimeStop.

Until, as destiny would have it, Faye saw her looking through the shop window and stepped outside to bring her into the warmth. She realized now that Faye had merely been waiting for Blue to show up, and that Faye likely understood that Blue had to try on the corset. She remembered how Faye had known things she had no way of knowing: like how Blue took her coffee and how there wasn’t anyone waiting for her to get home that day.

The whole atmosphere of the shop had been warm, welcoming, and encouraged her to feel safe.

To bring her here.

To this time, and to this version of perdition, which had turned out to be heaven itself as far as Blue was concerned.

Blue McCann was finally in the right place at the right time for the first time in her life.

W
hen Blue settled the corset into the trunk that would hold it for over eight decades, a sense of rightness settled in her soul.

She was now Belle Grantham’s secret sister, a midwife, and Dr. Colt Stephens’s lover.

Blue McCann had climbed into this attic, but it was Stella McCreedy, reborn, who climbed back down. The stairs folded up into the ceiling and her secret was safe—as were all the secrets that Belle held dear.

The hall clock chimed three times, and the new Stella felt a searing heat in her belly. The world dimmed to gray as she fought for consciousness, but the pain seared through her gut and she leaned on the wall to stay upright. It was no use, the gray deepened to black as she doubled over with pain, then collapsed in the empty hallway.

The hall clock on the third floor chimed three times. Faye barely heard it because she was in the kitchen. A glance at the kitchen clock confirmed the time. As long as she’d lived in Perdition House, that hall clock had not worked. She’d tried setting it countless times, but with the cost of other repairs, she’d had to set it aside until the cash flow improved. She shrugged, used to the odd noises in the old house, and took her tea and settled on the side porch. She enjoyed reading e-mail in her antique wicker chair. Today was chilly and damp, so she draped an afghan across her knees.

Fifteen minutes later, the phone rang and she ran to answer in the kitchen. When she heard the serious tone in the nurse’s voice, she stepped back outside and braced herself against the support beam.

The head nurse on Blue’s floor gave Faye the sad news she’d been waiting for. She kept a tight hold on her emotions, while her heart pounded in her chest. How could it be that a total stranger would get this call, that there would be no one else in Blue McCann’s life that would get the news of her passing?

She thanked the nurse for letting her know and stood awash in guilt. She never should have invited Blue into TimeStop, never should have encouraged her to try on that corset, no matter what that damn note had said. She knew better than to trust anything that came out of Perdition House.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Faye,” Belle murmured in her ear. She had the most annoying habit of reading Faye’s mind. “Nothing happens in Perdition without good reason. Blue’s the one who left the note with the corset.”

Faye’s knees gave out and she slid into her wicker chair again. “You knew Blue would go back to nineteen thirteen. And you knew she would die because of that corset.”

“No, Blue was ill most of her life. A chronic lung disease. With money and decent care as a child, she might have lived longer, but Blue wasn’t born into a strong family, Faye. Not every child is.”

Faye nodded but didn’t feel any better for her hand in this. “There was a reason for her to go back there, I hope. It wasn’t just some whim of yours?” Bitterness tinged the words and Faye didn’t care. Just because Belle was dead didn’t mean she had the right to be cavalier about the life of a young woman in need of help.

“Of course it wasn’t a whim. My sister, Stella McCreedy, had an accident and died before her time. She drove like a madwoman, over hill and dale, racing like the wind. She was usually exhausted, too, which probably made her more reckless.”

“I’m sorry, Belle. I didn’t know.” How odd to offer sympathy to a woman dead for decades. But Belle was more alive to Faye than her own parents, and she cared deeply about the sorrow of her loss. “Wait a minute! Stella was the midwife here!” She remembered dreaming about a woman who smoked cigars and drove one of the first Model T’s ever modified for speed.

“No one ever knew we were half sisters. We didn’t look at all alike. At the time, I didn’t know she’d been replaced by Blue McCann.”

“So Blue went back and stole Stella’s body?” She must have been so confused!

“You could call it that. But it wouldn’t have happened if the fate of the world didn’t depend on Stella.” She sighed. “And, therefore, on Blue.”

“But Blue was alone in the world. The nurse only called me because there was no one else to claim—Oh my!” The enormity of the events caught up to her.

Belle clucked her tongue and settled into the settee across from the wing chair. She conjured a teapot and poured herself a cup. “Since you’re incapable of being polite and offering something more substantial, I’ll make do with this.”

“Help yourself,” Faye said dryly. Belle making busy spelled more of a disaster coming. “What else?”

Belle raised her hand to Faye’s face. “Sleep, child, and you’ll see the rest for yourself.”

“I’m tired, mind if I curl up out here and take a nap?” Faye pulled the afghan over her shoulders and tucked her feet up as her head fell back and sleep claimed her.

Henry, the cook’s son at Perdition House, barreled into Colt’s outer office as he finished his afternoon clinic. He was just restocking his medical bag when the door banged open. “It’s Miz McCreedy, Dr. Stephens. Ma says to come quick! She blacked out in the upstairs hall and you need to see her.”

He didn’t need to hear any more. Colt grabbed the rest of his instruments, threw everything into his medical bag, and ran out to his car. Henry climbed on his horse and took off at a gallop with Colt close behind. He ran through every possible reason for her collapse and came up with nothing.

Her head had healed, her memories were not complete yet, but she was making progress. What he didn’t know was why she’d been at Perdition House. If she’d pushed herself to visit a patient there, he would give her a stern warning.

But he was at fault. He never should have had relations with her. The activity with him was clearly too much, too soon. Her heart had raced, she’d strained herself. He’d taken his pleasure without a thought for her.

He’d allowed his base nature free rein with an injured woman. His knuckles squeezed tight on the steering wheel as he bounced and lurched around a bend in the road. Dead ahead was a huge boulder, but he kept to the far side of the road and bypassed it. As he careened around the boulder, he remembered the way Stella had flown out of her car and into that tree. He managed, barely, to keep his car on the road.

This was his fault! As a doctor, he should have known better, as a man, he was a failure at keeping the woman he loved safe. He should have known she’d get back to work too soon. The entire trip was one berating thought after another, until all he could see was Stella, pale and worn, slipping away from him.

Blue woke to the worried expression and love in Colt’s eyes. “I’m here,” she said, and she
really
was. It may have been Blue McCann who’d hidden the corset in Perdition’s attic, but Blue was Stella now and here to stay.

Here.

To stay.

In this time, in this healthy body, and in love with this man.

“Yes, you’re here. In Perdition House again. Why?” he asked.

She pulled her body to a sitting position. She was in the same room she’d had when she’d woken up from the accident. This time, though, she remembered everything she needed to.

Taking his hands in hers, Stella lifted them to her lips for a kiss. “I came for tea with Belle. I’m fine. I ran up the stairs at full speed, just to see if I could, and when I got up three floors, I fainted.”

“Where was Belle?”

“On the phone. I know it was silly, but…” She shrugged. “I wanted to test my limits now that I feel well again.”

He frowned and shook his head. “You overexerted yourself? That’s all? You’re sure?”

“I won’t do it again, I promise.” Not today at least. She wasn’t about to tell him of the sudden pain, the blacking out of all light. The way a pinprick of brilliance called to her to come back.

The way she knew that Blue’s life was over and had begun again here. She accepted Stella’s life as her own now, fully and completely, and felt blessed to do it.

“Speaking of testing limits. You are testing the limits of my patience.” The relief in his eyes nearly tore her apart. She leaned forward and gathered Colt to her.

“I don’t mean to test you. I just had to be sure that if I promised we could have a future, I could keep it. I know now that I can. If you still want me.”

“Want you? My greatest fear was that you might want to continue as we’ve been.” He ran his long elegant fingers through his hair so that it stood on end. The slick of pomade he used wasn’t heavy enough to withstand the furrowing. “Because, Stella, that’s the wrong thing to say right now.”

“You don’t want to continue the way we’ve been?” She found it hard to maintain a serious expression. “You don’t want to make love anymore?”

His hands clenched into fists. “Of course I want that. But I don’t want to have you outside of marriage. I’m a proper man who wants a proper wife.”

“I’ll be your wife, Colt Stephens, but I can’t promise to always be proper.”

“Thank heavens,” he said, and dragged her into his chest. The kiss he devoured her with curled her toes.

Thank perdition!
she thought. “Thank heavens for what? The acceptance of your proposal or my refusal to be proper?”

“Both! We can be wild with each other, but to the world we’ll be properly wed. Let no one tear us asunder.”

“How do you feel about children?”

“Once we’re married, we can do away with rubbers. I’ll not have speculation about the timing of our nuptials.”

“Not
our
children.” She tiptoed her fingertips up his chest. “Exactly.”

“Explain.” His brows dropped into a furrow. “And I have a feeling this will be anything but proper.”

“I will, but first, I need you.”

“No, I can’t take you so soon after a fainting spell. I’ve pushed you to the limits, and I won’t do it again.”

“When it comes to loving you, Colt Stephens, I have no limits.” And she proved it.

Faye woke from her dream aroused. Everything was normal on that front, she realized. Whenever Belle sent her a story from the old days in the house, she woke ready and wet.

“I’ve already called Liam for you,” her great aunt said with a soft smile. “He’ll be here soon to take care of you. The man’s as randy as his grandfather.”

Faye slid her hand across her pussy, combing through her damp curls. Liam. Yes. Her lover and best friend. “What happened to Stella and Colt?”

“Colt agreed to take my child as his own, so he and Stella raised my son, William.”

Her expression set alarm bells clanging in her head. “Your son? William Grantham Stephens?” A rock the size of a baseball slid down her throat and landed with a lump to join the dread in her belly. “He was your son?”

Belle took a sip of conjured tea, then let the teacup hover by her shoulder, while she clasped her hands in her lap. The look on her face was bland while she waited for Faye to make all the necessary connections.

“He was my great grandfather! You’re not my aunt at all. You—you’re—”

“That’s right. I had to keep quiet about having a child. If anyone found out, they might have harmed him in an attempt to blackmail secrets from me. State secrets that would have affected the whole world. I knew far too many things, Faye.”

“You’ve always said Perdition was a house of secrets.”

“Senators loved the place! They brought ambassadors, governors, even a couple of presidential candidates spent time here.” She smiled, the picture of serene pride. “Gentlemen of commerce and politics need a place to retreat, need to rest and recoup. I kept all their secrets safe.”

“I’m the last of them, aren’t I? You knew when I visited as a child that I would be the only one in the family who would care enough to keep this place going instead of selling it off.”

“Without you, Perdition House and all the spirits who dwell here would have been destroyed.” Belle’s chilled hand smoothed her cheek. “You are Perdition’s last secret. And the best one we’ve ever had. Thank you, my dear, for everything you’ve done.”