Only in Time (A Mystique Antiques Novella) (8 page)

The bell atop the oak door jingled to life. Her eyes moved up, noting the vintage sign that hung above. The words
Mystique Antiques
stared back at her. Finally!

She put one foot inside the door when the air from a nearby vent swept across her face. Inhaling deeply, she enjoyed the way it cooled her damp blouse. Even the dusty scent of aged merchandise smelled better than the scent of skin baking in the hot Savannah sun.

She walked around the store, glimpsing at racks of used items that most folks called ‘antique’. A set of Pickard china caught her eye. She studied the set before reminding herself why she’d come.

Passing a mahogany grandfather clock, a shelf full of vintage handbags competed with the rack of silk scarves for her attention. The scarves won her over. She rubbed the material between her fingers, wondering if her mother would wear such a thing.

She released the scarf, continuing her journey toward the register.

Stepping up to the case, she noticed an older woman standing behind a glass counter. Her lips curled, accentuating the lines around her mouth. Bright eyes twinkled under the light as Ally approached.

“Is there something I can help you with, sugar?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then adjusted the clip that held her silver strands above her neck.

“Yes, ma’am. I hope so.”

“Call me Twila, darlin’.”

Ally didn’t know the woman from the next Joe Schmoe she crossed on the street, but something about the lady’s presence seemed comforting.

Giving her a nod, Ally unclasped the watch on her wrist. She set the item on the counter, pushing it toward Twila. “My mother bought this watch from you a week ago. She gave it to me as a birthday gift, but I think it may be broken.”

A crease formed between Twila’s brows. “Oh goodness. What seems to be the problem?”

The more Ally stared at the sweet woman, the less angrier she grew about the watch. But she still wanted some type of compensation. “It keeps losing time. I’ve been late meeting a friend and then too early for another meeting. I thought maybe it was the battery, but I couldn’t figure out how to change it.”

Twila’s fingers curled around the watch as she brought it closer to her face. “Oh yes, I remember this watch. It has quite a story attached to it.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Forgive me. I’m a bit of a history buff. All the items in my store have interesting stories behind them. Just like this watch. It’s very old, you know. Predates the Civil War.”

No wonder the stupid thing wasn’t working.

“Wow,” Ally chuckled. “I had no idea it was that antique.”

Nodding her head, Twila leaned her elbows on the counter, turning the piece in her hands. “Wristwatches weren’t very popular until the 1920’s. But they’ve existed since the late 1500’s. This watch belonged to Abigail Hamilton, the daughter of a prominent family in Atlanta. From what I’ve gathered, she received the watch as a gift from an unknown sender. There was a note attached with a cryptic message.
The heart does not see through blind eyes. Only the mind. Time matters not
.”

A chill ran up Ally’s spine. Maybe the watch was haunted. And the ghost wanted to screw with everyone else’s time since time no longer mattered to it.

“That’s kind of creepy.”

“Oh, the story gets stranger,” Twila chuckled, gazing back across the counter at Ally. “The Hamiltons never found the person who sent the gift. Then to make matters worse, their daughter went missing six years later.”

Ally’s stomach knotted. Her mother had gifted her the watch of a dead woman.

“You’re right. That is strange. Did they ever find her?”

Pushing off the counter, Twila’s brows rose higher. “Funny you should ask. In the 70’s, a local artist started receiving a lot of recognition for his paintings. When a historian from Atlanta caught wind, she went to see his work…and nearly fainted.”

It was Ally who leaned on the glass counter this time. Hadn’t even realized it until the heat of the lights below warmed her arms. “Dare I ask why she almost fainted?”

“Of course, darlin’. It would be a pointless story if you didn’t.” Twila smiled. “All the paintings on display were of a woman. One the artist didn’t know from anywhere but his imagination. But the historian recognized her as Abigail Hamilton.”

The news had Ally hanging on to every last word passing through Twila’s lips. “How is that possible? Was he lying about not knowing who she was?”

“Not at all.” Twila gazed at the watch. She stroked the face as though the watch had carried her away on some mystical journey. More like a mystical tale. One Ally found hard to believe but interesting just the same.

“So was it a coincidence that he painted this woman’s picture?”

“One would think. Because short of a picture owned by a museum in Atlanta, there were none of the young woman. All the family portraits were lost when their house burned down during Sherman’s invasion. The only one that survived came from a relative who had asked for it after the girl’s disappearance. That person lived in Massachusetts.”

“I don’t get it,” Ally said, shaking her head as her eyes fell to the watch in Twila’s hand. “How could he paint a picture of a woman who lived a century before he did?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Twila continued to flip the watch, giving it a good lookover. “No one knows for sure, but a year later, the man went to see the historian, again. He brought his new bride with him. A woman he met just a few weeks after the historian made the connection with the paintings. Guess who she looked like.”

“Abigail?” Ally asked, pushing away from the counter.

Twila nodded. “Yes. And she was wearing the same watch. A watch that disappeared when Miss Hamilton did.”

What Twila insinuated couldn’t be possible. Not logically. Yet something about the story had Ally questioning its authenticity. Not that the story couldn’t be true, but that it was true.

If Twila didn’t find anything wrong with the watch, Ally would be stuck keeping it. She didn’t know if she wanted it anymore. Not with its creepy history.

A band of keys jingled against the clerk’s wrist as she grabbed her glasses from the top of her head. They sat on the bridge of her nose while her eyes peered through them, bringing the watch closer to her face.

“I see what the problem is.” A twinge of hope beat through Ally’s heart. Maybe she would get a refund. As Twila stretched her arms toward Ally, she pointed toward the side of the watch. “This is mechanical, darlin’. Have you been winding it?”

Closing her eyes, Ally released a sigh. Darn it. She hadn’t thought about that. Now she looked like an idiot. “No, ma’am. I have not.”

Guess that meant she had to keep the watch. Oh well. It would make for a good conversation piece at office parties.

Yippie.

Twila raised her hand a little, offering the watch to Ally. “You should do so everyday. Mornings are best.”

Slipping the watch over her wrist, she clasped it shut, trying to avoid Twila’s eyes. Thank God she hadn’t decided to be rude to the woman, like she wanted. Now she had a working birthday gift
and
a historical piece to show off. Her mother would be pleased, too. Ally hadn’t missed the crack in her voice when they first spoke, this morning.

“I appreciate all the help. And the history lesson. I should probably get going. Do I owe you anything for fixing the watch?”

“You can’t fix something that isn’t broken. There’s no charge. You weren’t aware of the history. True mechanical watches aren’t common anymore. Now that you know more about the watch, you’ll enjoy your gift.”

Perfect. The watch wasn’t broken. Ally wished she could say that about more things in her life. Like her relationship with her mother. Or her friendship with Jonah. Too bad Twila couldn’t fix those things.

Nothing could. Not even time.

* * *

Yanking her cell phone from her purse, Ally gazed down at the device, reading Cassie’s latest text.

I think we should do it. What would it hurt? We can behave.

She twisted the handle on Mystique Antique’s door, hesitating in the doorway when the sweltering heat swarmed every inch of her skin. She brought up her keypad, trying to come up with a witty response for Cassie.

Her friend had lost her mind. No way would she go on a double date with her and Theo. Especially knowing who would be her date. She hadn’t accepted the fact that Cassie wanted to go out with Theo. Then again, she used to love teasing him when they were younger. Theo didn’t mind. Would have gone to hell and back if Cassie had asked.

Why couldn’t Jonah have felt the—

Ally’s feet shifted beneath her as she slammed into a hard surface. Dazed by the abrupt stop, her legs teetered before they gave out, sending her toward the ground. Then the blurry scene around her wavered. She hadn’t hit the ground. Had made it back to her feet. Warmth caressed her arms as words filled her ears.

“I’m so sorry!” The man apologized. “I was sending a text and didn’t see—Ally? Shit! Ally, are you okay?”

Struggling to focus her eyes, Ally found comfort in the voice speaking to her. Jonah. It had to be. While his voice had deepened over the years, the roughness hadn’t left. And God did it sound sexy as hell.

She blinked a couple of times, clearing the fogginess from her eyes. Then she found Jonah’s. A gasp left her mouth when she saw the crease in his forehead deepen. His eyes danced over her face as he reached for her head.

Before he could make contact, she stepped back, waving him away. “I’m fine. You just caught me off guard. What are you doing here?” Had he followed her? Why else would they be on the same street in a city this big, on a Tuesday afternoon?

“I had to go
shopping
.” He pointed to the bags near his feet. Ally noticed a navy blue shirt in one bag. Jeans hid in another. “I hate shopping for clothes, but I didn’t pack enough stuff for my trip. Didn’t think I’d be here this long.” Their eyes met again as his lips spread in a smile. “But I’m glad I came to town. I would have missed the chance to see you, if I hadn’t.”

God, he knew all the right words to say to leave a woman wanting more. Needing more. Then, when she was ready to give her everything to him, he left her hanging to pursue his own dreams.

At least he had with her. Who knows how many others since they’d parted ways.

Damn him. She couldn’t fall for his games again.

“You sure are a smooth talker, Jonah. You haven’t lost your touch with that.”

Humor lit up his eyes. Guess he didn’t realize she’d just insulted him.

“Yeah? Well, it’s not intentional. I assure you. When I first saw you the other night, I couldn’t have talked to you even if I weren’t performing. Not without stuttering. You blew me away.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she grumbled, gazing down at the sidewalk. She scraped her shoe against the concrete, wishing he would leave her alone. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate you giving your number to a woman from your past.”

“You’re right.” He sighed. She snapped her head in his direction, confused by the ache that played in her heart. She should be glad she’d busted him. Now he would stop with the flirting and leave her alone. “If I
had
a girlfriend, she wouldn’t like me giving my number out to a woman from my past. Even though you’re not just any woman. You were my friend. My best friend.”

Biting the inside of her lip, she fought back the tears forming in her eyes. No way would she allow him to keep screwing with her. This ended, now.

Wisps of hair brushed her neck as she shook her head. Then she stepped around him, making her way down the street. She’d bypassed a couple shops before he’d caught up with her. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going back to work, Jonah.”

“Why? What did I say?”

“I’m not taking this trip down memory lane with you,” she snapped picking up the pace. The new speed didn’t faze Jonah. He kept at her side, dodging a newspaper stand as they continued down the street. Each step she took, he matched. Shooting him a glance, she hated seeing his scrunched up face. A mixture of confusion and pain filled each crease.

“What did I ever do to you?”

A sudden halt had Jonah putting a few feet of distance between them. Good. She needed the space. Needed to get as far away from him as she could. How could he even ask her that question?