Closer To You (Tales of the Sweet Magnolia Book 1) (18 page)

Jake shrugged. “Maybe she wanted to start fresh. Maybe she already had clothes wherever she was going.”

“Without so much as a goodbye, Sheriff?” Paddy asked. “That don’t sound like our Lil.”

“Yep, well,” Jake stated matter-of-fact as he folded the paper. “Mind if I keep this?”

“Sure thing. You heading up to Virginia City then?”

He tapped his glass nervously against the smooth-wood counter. “Not sure yet just what I’m going to do.”

Paddy nodded and went back to cleaning off his bottles. “You tell her Paddy misses her piano playing. Angel, bless her heart sounds like a cat in heat when she sings.”

“I didn’t say I was going anywhere,” Jake remarked adjusting his hat, cinching up his holster.

The barkeep looked up in mild surprise. “I heard what you said just fine. Just

in case you do.” Paddy smiled and scratched his scruffy grey beard.

Jake nodded, undecided and more than a little confused. It wasn’t worth the time to explain to Paddy that Lil had probably left mad as hell because he hadn’t followed her that night. He’d waited until the next day, hoping for her to cool off and give him some time to think on things. It’d taken him some time to weigh the options he had before him, accepting the fact that he’d never know his birth mother, being lied to and blackmailed by his father, and all the while knowing that more than her own happiness, Lil would not let her reputation as a madam ruin his political future. When it became clear that having Lil in his life was more important than accepting any Deputyship, he went to the Magnolia to let her know, but she’d already gone…disappeared it seemed into thin air.

Later that night Jake lay on the bunk in the cell, staring at the moon outside the window high above him. He thought of Lil and how she looked that last night he’d seen her. How beautiful and how much in love he thought she was with him, and the chance he missed in telling her how he felt about her. He pressed his hand on the letter in his pocket, felt his heart beating strong beneath. He could let her go. If Virginia City was where she was, then she’d never been far enough away that she couldn’t contact someone to let them all know that she was safe…and happy.

Jake’s heart twisted in his chest. He shifted, restless on the uncomfortable cot, wishing now that he hadn’t offered to take the night shift and stay at the jail. Something gnawed at his gut, burning inside. Maybe he needed to hear from her lips why she left without saying goodbye. Maybe then he could move on. He sighed as if a large weight had lifted from his chest. No, he wasn’t over her and he had a feeling that even if she turned him away, it would be a long time before he’d be able to put her out of his mind.

***

Thankfully, Nate hadn’t asked too many questions when Jake told him that he was going up to Virginia City for a few days. He slid off his horse, dropping to his feet and took a moment to stretch out the sore spot on his hip. He tied his horse to the rail in front of the St. Charles Hotel. It was quite a showcase for the little town whose claim to fame was the discovery of the Comstock Silver strike a few years back. A few miles from Reno and near Carson City, the triangle of growing towns had exploded overnight it seemed with new business, the railroad, and of course miners. All he needed tonight was a bed to lay his head. Tomorrow he’d set out and see if he could hunt down the address on Lil’s note.

From the saloon down the street, the sound of a seasoned piano player poured out into the street competing with the loud ruckus of the drunken crowd inside.

He was glad that he wasn’t the town’s sheriff.

“If you can’t pay, you ain’t gonna stay,” a gruff voice bellowed.

Jake searched the dwindling twilight in time to see a burly barkeep escorting a small man by his shirt collar through the swinging doors. He landed face first in the dirt road, a wagon narrowly swerving to avoid running over the poor man. The sound of a train whistle echoed in the distance, and Jake wondered if he was already too late, perhaps she’d gone back East. The West was not the best place for a lady.

The poor man struggled to his feet and brushed the dirt from his vest and pants. Jake watched for a moment, regarding the man. It didn’t appear that he was drunk. Maybe just down on his luck. “Can I be of some help to you?” Jake called to him.

Startled that someone should be talking to him, he tapped his derby against his hip, cleaning it as best as he could. “Much obliged, sir, but I’ll just be on my way.” He started to walk down the center of the road.

The thought that he might be familiar with the town prompted Jake to follow him. “Sir?” he called to the man. “I’d like a moment of your time, if I may?”

The gent turned and headed toward Jake, meeting him in the middle of the road. In the dusky twilight, the man’s face was undistinguishable, but as he drew near, Jake was taken aback at his familiar features. He’d seen them twice before— once on the old man in the jail cell and the other the school marm.

“The names Fesuvius, Burt Fesuvius. I own a little photography shop down the street.”

Jake openly stared at the man, for a moment wondering if he was seeing things.

“And who might I have the pleasure of meeting on this fine evening?” Fesuvius asked.

“Uh, Jake Sloan. Sheriff Jake Sloan of Deadwater.” He accepted the man’s hand in greeting. “You don’t happen to have kin in or around these parts, by chance?”

“No sir.” He gestured over his shoulder with his hat. “From back East. Only been here…oh, I’d say about a month…a little over. Been well, let’s say interesting. Truth is, yours is the first friendly face I’ve seen.”

Though it puzzled Jake to know why that was, he was more interested in how well the man knew the town. “Would you care to join me for supper over at the hotel, I’d like to learn a bit more about Virginia City.”

“Oh, here on business?” Fesuvius asked.

Jake searched the space above the man’s head. “Personal business, I guess you could say.” He was drawn unexplainably to the features of the man. He wore his silvery beard and moustache close and well-manicured, and his snowy white hair was thick, reaching to the collar of his tweed vest. At his throat, tied in a perfect black bow was a distinguished bowtie. But his most striking feature—his eyes—is what stopped Jake in his tracks. They were a translucent blue, like a cloudless summer sky. “You sure you don’t have a brother or a sister, maybe?” Jake prodded.

The strange man smiled. “Not to my recollection. I like to think I’m one of a kind, Sheriff Sloan.”

His words caused a chill to race over Jake’s shoulder.

“Looking for someone in particular?” he asked.

Surprised, Jake was stumped with how to answer that. It seemed the man had read his thoughts. He responded instead out of curiosity, “Why do you ask?”

Fesuvius shrugged. “You mentioned that you were here on business and it was personal. Figured that there must be a woman involved.”

“What would make you think that?” Jake rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

“You’re nervous for one. Edgy to find out what, or who I might know around here, I suspect. Why else would you summon a complete stranger to your aid?”

Jake couldn’t admit to him that he felt like he’d already met him twice before, but how to explain the phenomenon was the crazy part.

“Am I close?”

Maybe Jake was too tired to fight it. He nodded. “Her name is Lillian White.”

The odd little man appeared to be mulling over the name and then offered a knowing grin. “Someone pretty special, maybe?”

Jake couldn’t deny it. “She is and I’ve looked everywhere, trying to find her.”

“You think maybe she doesn’t want to be found?” His new friend asked, tipping his head to study Jake.

“I suppose that’s entirely possible. Thing is she left without saying goodbye, and I’d just like to talk with her, make sure she’s safe….”

“Tie up any loose ends,” the man interjected.

“Yeah, that too.”

“Tell you what, come on by. I have plenty of photos of folks I’ve taken in my travels—maybe one of them will be this Miss Lilly of yours.” He turned on his heel and waved his hand. “Seven-thirty sharp and don’t be late.”

Jake watched him a moment and then headed for the hotel. He had a gut feeling that if he looked back, the old man wouldn’t be there. He paused at the hotel porch and glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, Jake was right.

***

“Mr. Fesuvias?” Jake stepped through the unlocked door and into the shop. It was organized in pristine fashion, simple, tidy, but with an air of timeless elegance that showed with his collection of cameras and ornate clocks of every shape and size. In one corner sat a piano. Jake scanned the quiet interior and began to think that the man he’d spoken to the night before was only a figment of his overtired imagination. His eye caught a massive red book lying on top of one of the glass display cases. More than a hand deep, it piqued his interest. “Mr. Fesuvius?” he stated aloud once more. “Thought we might visit a little more about what we discussed last night?”

“I’ll be right out. Go ahead and take a look around,” the man called from a curtained door leading to the back room.

Jake ran his palm over the leather bound tome, drawn to it with a growing curiosity.

“Go on and take a look at the pictures in my scrapbook, Jake. You don’t mind if I call you, Jake, do you?” Fesuvius hollered from somewhere at the back of the store.

“Not at all,” Jake responded only half-listening to what the man said. He opened the cover and from nowhere a cool breeze blew gently over his face. Jake looked around to see if the door had opened. The windows also remained shut, preventing any breeze. He peered down at the pages, studying the pictures, most were buildings, events, parades taken from exotic locations all over the world.

“See anyone you recognize yet?” Jake was asked.

“Just pictures of towns. Did you take all of these?” He must work for the government, perhaps the army.

“Capturing special moments is my passion, young man. It’s what I do.”

Jake nodded as he turned the pages. “You’re very good at this passion of yours.”

“Everyone has a passion for something, son. It just takes some folks a little longer and a little more determination to find it.”

Jake considered how true his words were, though they didn’t apply to the likes of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt a rush of passion—having no doubt, being totally content with his place in this world.

Lilly’s arms.

“You just need to think of that time and grab hold of it. Don’t let anyone or anything, even your own doubts, take it away from you.”

“I don’t know that it works the same for everyone, sir.”

“Call me Burt.” Jake looked up to see the old man smiling at him. “She was your passion, this Lillian White, wasn’t she? Well, that and your deep desire to make a difference—help people. That can only come from a noble man, Jake, and one deserving of a little happiness.”

Jake swallowed. He felt light-headed.

“Go ahead, son. Look at the pictures. All these folks. The poor, the rich, men,

and women…they all found the very heart of their deepest desires.” Burt turned the page and there, seated alone with a demure expression was Lillian.

Jake glanced at Burt. “I don’t understand.”

“Ah well, if we all understood everything, we’d have no problems, would we? All our struggles would be gone. Terribly boring existence, by the way. Sometimes in our quest to understand every little detail, we end up dissecting our passion until it dwindles to nothing more than a pile of wishful thinking.” Fesuvius leaned his forearms on the case and studied Jake. “The secret of happiness, Jake, is embracing your passion and believing that you deserve the joy it will bring to you.”

“You’re saying that believing can make it so, just like that.” As poetic as this sounded, Jake was a clear-thinker, a man of reason. 

Burt chuckled. “I can prove it to you, of course, if you wish, but not without some effort on your part.”

Jake had his doubts and they were deadly serious. Still he was curious just what the old man was talking about. “All right. Show me.”

“You have something in your pocket from a very special person? Take it out and hold it in your hand,” Burt stated.

“How did you know…?” Jake started. Maybe this was a parlor trick. He pulled out the paper and showed it to Burt.

“Now look at the words and remember what they mean to you. Remember a time when you first realized the depth of something you valued more than life itself.”

He looked at the paper and then at the old man. “Should I close my eyes?”

Burt shrugged. “If it’s easier for you, by all means.”

He nodded and looked again at the picture of Lil staring up at him. An unexpected sob choked his throat. What if everything she’d told him about being from the future was true? If so, why couldn’t he be with her?

“You can.” He heard Burt’s voice getting further away. “Find her, Jake. Find the passion that freed your soul.”

His thoughts drifted to moments spent with Lillian, the moments that made him realize that he’d found something as vital to his life as his next breath. He saw her lying on the bed, the sheets still warm from their lovemaking tangled around her, the red gem around her neck, looking regal against her pale flesh. More than anything he wished to be able to tell her how he felt. He’d do anything, travel the earth for or backward for that one chance….