Closer To You (Tales of the Sweet Magnolia Book 1) (11 page)

Joined still, Jake leaned up on his arms and looked down at her. His eyes burned with a passion that she never thought she would ever see and for a moment, her bravado failed and she was afraid of the possibility that she could lose him.

“You know this could spell trouble, Lil, for both of us.”

Despite his brave intent, Jake kept up his appearance of the golden law of Deadwater during the day and spent his evenings in the arms of his lusty Lil at night. He’d had no idea the strength of the emotions a man could possess for a woman, but he was powerless to fight them with her. She filled his every waking thought and heated his nights with passion that threatened to consume them both. She gave without question, never asking more from him than he was able to give.

They talked for hours in the moonlight that shone over the tangled bed sheets, laughing about nothing, free to be living and loving in the moment. But her story about the future, about her being a librarian in another time, Jake didn’t know what to make of that. She didn’t like him bringing the subject up, but the truth was when they were together, chatting was the last thing on his mind. But to satisfy his own curiosity, he decided to pay a visit to the local school marm and see if she could recommend any books on the subject of traveling through time. At least then maybe he and Lilly could talk about it openly, intelligently, instead of it continuing to be this mysterious silent third entity in bed between them.

***

Jake dodged the swarm of children descending the steps of the school. It’d been years since he’d been in the white clapboard building. He stepped inside and the smell of chalk dust and paper catapulted him back in time. The image of his prune-faced teacher popped into his brain as vibrant and terrifying as when he was attending his daily classes. He paused and removed his hat out of habit, lesson learned and not forgotten with the aid of the teacher’s ruler.

He wasn’t sure just who the new teacher was. He’d heard she hadn’t been there long. Jake figured he ought to introduce himself and in the process, ask a few lingering questions of his own. Jake walked past the coat closet and through one of the two doors leading into the single room. It was pretty much the same as he recalled, except for the shapely woman, her back turned away from him, cleaning off the blackboard. That was not the figure of old sourpuss, Miss Atkinson. He cleared his throat and she faced him with a start. Clamping a hand to her throat, she stared at him with wide-eyed surprise. “Oh my, Sheriff, you gave me a start!”

Jake blinked, making sure he wasn’t seeing things. Times sure had changed since he was a pupil, the teacher was young and quite striking. She had hair of spun gold, almost silver it was so light, and she wore it in a neat braid, coiled like a crown around her head and her eyes…. Jake found himself staring into those eyes blue as a mountain lake and filled with wisdom that seemed well…a might unearthly. His thoughts snapped back to the old man in his jail cell, or the man he thought he’d spoken to at any rate. Jake shook his head, bringing himself back to the present.

The teacher greeted him with a perfunctory smile. “What might I help you with today, Sheriff?”

Her clipped tone jerked him from his reverie. “Pardon, miss. I was wondering if you might be able to help me with a little research. I just have a few questions to ask, if you have the time.”

She ushered him to sit in one of the miniature desks arranged neatly in three rows. “Have a seat. I can spare a few moments.”

Jake slid, uncomfortably into one of the seats. He set his hat in front of him and narrowed his gaze on her, trying to remember her in town. “Are you new here? I don’t believe we’ve been formerly introduced, have we?” He’d been herded to so many dinners in the past few months that Jake couldn’t recall all the folks that he’d met.

She folded her arms defiantly over her chest, which made a vast improvement to that high-collared blouse she wore. The staunchness of her manner and clothing reminded him of his version of a librarian. As though reading his thoughts, she peered at him.

“You have a question, Sheriff?” She perched her hip on the edge of her desk and waited.

Every bit as tongue-tied as when the teacher called on him years before, Jake toyed with the brim of his hat and searched for the right words. It wasn’t as if anyone knew what was going on between him and Lil and so surely a simple question or two about time-relativity wouldn’t raise any red flags of suspicion. “I was curious what you might be able to tell me on the subject of… time travel,” he mumbled quietly avoiding meeting her eyes.

“What was that? My goodness, you’re a might jumpy for a big, strapping man such as yourself. Something about
time,
was it?”

Jake bit his lip and looked at her, mustering his courage. He could face off a gunman at five paces, but this woman made him squirm like a schoolboy. Part of the job skills he figured. Hell, he didn’t even know her name. “Yes, ma’am, I wondered if you could maybe recommend a good book on time-travel.” He held her gaze, his thumb, nervously rubbing a warm spot on his leather hat.

“Seems to me that’d be a question to ask a librarian, wouldn’t it?”

Her ice blue gaze held his and Jake couldn’t shake the strange feeling that he’d seen the look in those eyes recently…which was absurd since he’d just met this woman. “Yes, you’re uh, probably right about that.” He paused a moment, wanting to press her further, but not knowing what to ask. His eyes landed on her desk, and he noted the piano books stacked behind her. Taken aback, he looked up and found her smiling at him.

“What you’d like to know is if it’s possible, am I correct?” she asked, unfolding her arms and leaning them on either side of her hips, effectively cutting off his view of the desktop.

“Do you think it’s possible?” he asked.

“Frankly, Sheriff, it doesn’t matter what I think. It’s your perception that you’re worried about now, isn’t it?”

Jake tipped his head and shrugged. “Well, they may be true to an extent, but I figure there must be some studies on it, experiments—theories?” “Were you not paying attention in school, Jake Sloan?”
When did I mention my name?

“Time-travel isn’t about just the future. Theories concerning time-travel go back as far as ancient Mesopotamia. Dozens, hundreds, of cultures have their own stories, myths, folk lore of kings and gods traveling the universe, of angels coming to earth.”

The teacher’s gaze mesmerized Jake.

“You may be familiar with the story written by Washington Irving about the man who fell asleep and woke up years later to find how much life had changed. ‘Rip Van Winkle” is a classic in American literature, and even though fictionalized, I believe Irving and others like him write in terms of fantasy stories so that we better understand them.” She studied Jake. “It seems to me, anyway, that we can never simply accept things for what they are. We seem to have the need to water them down, dissect them until they have no substance, no beauty, and no mystery any longer. Only then are we satisfied, when we’ve picked the thing apart and left it a rotting carcass.”

Jake’s brows pinched together. Teachers since he was young had sure become more descriptive in their teaching and a whole lot more complicated to boot. He figured she had a point somewhere in her explanation, but damn if he could find it. Apparently, it sailed right over his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I think you lost me back at Rip Van Winkle.”

She let out a weary sigh. Her eyes held his, shimmering with a mysterious wisdom that he didn’t understand. His gaze narrowed as he studied her more carefully. The resemblance of the man in the jail cell to this woman was uncanny.

They could have been brother and sister.

“Let me see if I can put it differently. You tell me that you’re curious about time-travel. That leads me to wonder why it interests you so much that you’d come out of your way to see me about it.”

Jake shrugged, waiting for her to finish her thought and felt as though he’d just stepped into a pool of quicksand.

“It seems to me, if you don’t mind a simple school teacher’s observation, that what you’re trying to do is find a way to grasp something that’s intangible. The question of whether time-travel is true or not, isn’t really what you are really interested in.”

Jake thought for a moment. “It’s not?” He pushed his hand through his hair, damned if he knew then what it was he was asking.

“No, Jacob, what you really want to find out is if you can believe in something you cannot see or explain. If you can trust in it. Because if you can’t, then is it real?”

He had to admit she ran circles around Miss Atkinson in her looks and her logic. Surprised that he actually understood, though he may have questioned agreeing with her explanation, he nodded, giving her the benefit of the doubt— mainly his. “I think I understand what you’re saying.”

“Give it a try. You never know when life may test you on what you’ve supposedly learned.”

Jake suddenly felt a constriction in his chest, as though an elephant sat on it. Trust was not an easy thing for him. He’d trusted his mother’s strength, relied on her to always be there, and she died on him when he was only eleven. His father, a man who trusted no one but himself, was not a model of fatherhood as he preached goodness from the pulpit and beat his son to a pulp at night. He looked up at the woman, certain those eyes of hers saw right through him. Jake swallowed hard.

Her expression softened. “Sometimes you have to believe in something, even if you can’t logically make sense of it. If it’s real to you—if your heart tells you it’s real—then that’s all you need to know. All else will be answered in its own good time.”

Jake’s heart registered what she was saying to him, but he kept the knowledge close.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a previous appointment and I don’t wish to be late.” She turned, tapped her papers and stuffed them quickly into a leather portfolio. “Good luck,” she stated and tucking the folder under her arm, walked down the aisle.

Jake sat at the desk, mulling over her words in his head.

“Coming, Sheriff?” she asked from the back of the room.

“I’ll be along shortly and thank you…Miss.” He glanced over his shoulder and she was gone. Pushing his hat down on his head, he hurried to the door to catch up to her, his boots echoing in the empty classroom. He reached the top of the steps and shaded his eyes from the Western sun, searching the road that led to the main street of town. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t see hide nor hair of her anywhere.

“Howdy, Sheriff.” A small boy tossed his ball into the air. “Are you going back

to school?” His freckled nose wrinkled with his grin. He was missing his two front teeth.

Jake smiled, strangely at peace as he sauntered down the front steps to meet the lad. He reached out and tousled the boy’s honey-colored hair. “You’re never too old to learn, son.” He walked a few feet past the child and prompted by the strange things happening to him as of late, looked over his shoulder to make sure the boy was real.

The little boy waved.

Jake breathed a sigh of relief.

***

Lillian loved watching Jake sleep. With the Magnolia closed on Sunday, she’d been able to talk Jake into staying over, but under the condition that he left before everyone else at the parlor house awoke. She could have watched his peaceful slumber for hours, his arm tossed over his forehead, the sexy shadow of his beard framing his parted lips.

Her body remembered how his hands felt sliding over her skin, so gentle, unhurried and thorough, giving as much pleasure as he took. She had no idea of their future together, but she could not imagine waking at dawn on a Sunday and not finding him next to her. Every aspect of Jake Sloan, spirit and flesh, seemed to have been fashioned for her alone. No, the last thing she wanted to do was wake him. To do so would mean that he’d leave her bed and she wasn’t ready for that yet. They’d been seeing each other now for a few weeks, keeping their affair as discreet as possible, especially to the townsfolk. Evening strolls with her girls after five were the most difficult. Walking past the jailhouse was the worst, especially if he was sitting outside. She would nod and smile all the while her body heating of its own accord as he returned the platonic greeting, but the truth of his desire flickered in his steady gaze. The girls, if they were with her, pretended not to notice what was going on between the two, but they knew of the affair. Lil had asked them to keep the secret, but the girls told her she needn’t worry, that they only wanted her happiness.

Paddy and Cook were apprised as well; in case he was needed in town. However, Lil had sworn them all to secrecy. At least two nights a week, Cook would prepare a supper and serve it in Lil’s room. Her appetite, however, by the time Jake arrived, was not for food and more often than not, their meals went unfinished.

“Get your fill yet, Miss Lilly?” His slower-than-molasses smile crept across his face. The sound of his voice reverberated through her, jumpstarting her heart.

“Not yet, cowboy. I’m not sure I’ll ever get my fill of you.” She propped up on her elbow and ran her palm over his broad chest, reveling in the sinewy strength beneath her hand.

“Anyone complain about the noise last night?” He peered at her with one eye, took her hand and turned it over, placing a lingering kiss on her palm.

Unable to resist playing against his former concerns, she shrugged. “I heard there were a lot of tongues wagging, bets being placed about how long it would last.” She grinned impishly. “That sort of thing.” Lil felt the strong beat of his heart against her skin. He seemed content and she wished desperately to ask him if he was, but something held her back.