Yesterday's Magic (15 page)

Once dinner had ended, when it was clear that
Jed didn’t intend to ask her to dance, she’d accepted Stroud’s
offer. She didn’t especially want to dance with the man but she
hadn’t wanted to pass up the opportunity to get more information.
Unfortunately, Stroud had been more interested in sniffing her neck
and putting his hand on her butt. Once the dance had ended, she’d
made sure she had a partner for every other dance.

The dancing had been fun. Just like it had
been when she’d been fifteen and the girls’ gym class had been
paired up with the boys’ gym class for the Social Dance curriculum.
Then, the boys had held her too tight, or too loose, and they’d
stumbled over their feet and counted their steps out loud. Very
much like tonight.

She’d enjoyed it. More than she’d imagined
she would. Which, according to Jed, made her some kind of dance
slut. Fine. She wasn’t here to impress Jedidiah McNeil.

But, she had to admit as she stood there
shivering in her cloak and too-thin dress, he had managed to hurt
her feelings—which was dumb, considering that she’d be gone in
days. Why should she care if he didn’t approve of her? She was a
screw up. Everybody knew it. She hadn’t wasted much time over the
years in trying to change what they thought.

She heard the door open behind her and heard
footsteps. They stopped directly behind her. Thinking it was
Freida, she turned.

Saul. She hadn’t seen him inside.

“Hello,” she said.

“I understand that you’re Freida
Stroganhaufer’s niece.”

She’d blown her cover. Maybe Jed was right
and she should have danced less. She looked down the street but
there was no sign of Jed. “Yes, that’s right.”

He leaned close to her face. “I don’t expect
to see you in my store again, Miss Stroganhaufer.”

“Wainwright,” she corrected, terribly pleased
that she’d remembered her own name. She really didn’t know what the
big deal was. He and Aunt Freida sold a few of the same things but
mostly different items. “You know competition can be healthy,” she
said. Wow. Her economics professor would be so proud.

Saul had evidently not taken economics
because the corner of his lip rose in a most unattractive sneer. It
appeared that he was on the verge of saying something else when Jed
pulled up his carriage. Saul turned and walked away.

“Was that Saul?” Jed asked.

“Yes.”

“What did he want?”

“He wanted me to know that my spying days are
over. Can we just go?” she asked. She was freezing.

“Of course.” He got down and offered her a
hand to help her up. She took it without a word. Once she was
seated, he handed her the blankets. Silently, she covered her legs
and wrapped the other around her shoulder, just as she’d done on
the ride to town.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded.

He sighed. “Bella, I was an ass tonight. I’m
sorry.”

Well, hell. She hadn’t expected him to
apologize. “It’s fine,” she said. “It really doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” he said.

Not really. What mattered was that she was a
witch who lived a hundred and thirty years in the future. And she
needed to stop Toomay from cursing her father and all his
generations to come. “Please just take me home,” she said.

Neither spoke on the way. Once he’d pulled
into Aunt Freida’s yard, she figured he’d slow down the horses just
enough to toss her out of the carriage. Instead, he stopped the
carriage, got off, and then turned to help her down. She stood and
reached for his extended hand but in the process, her toe caught in
the blankets now lumped at her feet and she pitched forward.

He grabbed for her and hauled her up against
his chest. It was a bit like stepping off a cliff, hitting a brick
wall, and then sliding down it, inch by inch, until her toes
touched the ground. She realized what she would have known had she
and Jed danced earlier; she was the perfect height to fit right
under his chin.

She tilted her head back. “Thanks,” she said,
feeling rather foolish. It was so cold that the word came out in a
puff of white steam.

“My pleasure,” he said, his voice sounding
strained. He had his arms wrapped tight around her and even though
they both had coats on, all her important parts were pressed
solidly up against all his important parts.

Oh boy. It was probably a good thing they
hadn’t danced. The Bump and Grind hadn’t been invented yet.
“Uh…Jed.”

He pulled back and with two fingers under her
chin, lifted her face. He stared at her. “What, Bella?” he asked.
His voice was low, sexy, intimate.

She swallowed hard. He was staring at her
mouth. “I…should probably go inside,” she said.

“Probably,” he agreed. He looked very
serious. Then he stroked the underside of her chin. His fingers
were cold and rough with calluses but his touch was gentle.

Nerve endings, dormant from inactivity, were
springing to life. Her breasts tingled. She ached between her legs.
“Inside. Yes. Definitely the thing to do,” she added. Her voice
wobbled.

“You don’t seem to be the type that always
does the right thing, Bella.” he whispered.

Hell, she never did the right thing. “I’m
turning over a new leaf,” she protested weakly. She couldn’t even
think. How could she act responsibly?

He shook his head. “Not tonight. I’m going to
kiss you, Bella.” He bent his head until his lips were just inches
from her own. His breath was warm, sweet. He hesitated, as if to
give her a chance to say no.

The heck with that. Tomorrow would be soon
enough to do the right thing. She wrapped her arms around his neck
and pulled him close.

He kissed her hard, his lips warm, his tongue
insistent. Probing. Sweeping. She ached with the sudden and intense
pleasure. She tasted cherry pie and strong black coffee. She
smelled soap and fire. She felt hard muscle and warm skin. She knew
determination and need—whether it was his or her own, she wasn’t
sure.

When he finally pulled back, they were both
panting, the short breaths making quick bursts of steam in the cold
night air. He dropped his arms and they hung loosely at his
side.

“Oh, my,” she said. Her heart was beating too
fast.

“Damn,” he said. He bent over and braced his
hands on his thighs and took a deep breath. Then another. Finally,
he straightened up. “Bella, I think you should go inside now.”

She didn’t think her legs could carry her
that far. The kiss had been explosive. And as crazy as it seemed,
it made her forget that she’d ever been kissed by anybody else.

“I think you’re right,” she said. She turned,
managed to walk through the door, and quickly shut it behind her.
Which, of course, was foolish because it was pitch black inside the
cabin. She inched toward the stove where Aunt Freida kept the
lantern. She managed to stub her toe—the same one Wymer had stepped
on when he’d gotten particularly daring in the middle of a Virginia
Reel—and even in the dark, she saw stars.

She found the lantern and got the wick lit.
Outside, she heard the soft neigh of a horse. She edged over to the
window, lifted the curtain with one finger, and saw that Jed had
turned the horses and was leaving.

The cabin was freezing. She held her breath
while she got undressed and into her nightgown. Then she crawled
under the covers and pulled them up over her head, trying to
capture all the warm air.

If there’d been anyone to question her, she’d
have dismissed the trembling in her legs as pure reaction to
that.

She’d have been lying.

She’d never trembled over Bradley. Even when
they were having sex, there weren’t that many shaking, quaking
moments. But all Jedidiah McNeil had to do was kiss her once and it
was like she’d run a marathon.

This was the screw up of all screw ups.

***

When Bella woke up the next morning, every
muscle hurt. She stretched and cursed the man who’d invented the
damn polka. She threw back the covers and wasn’t a bit surprised to
see that the baby toe on her left foot was already turning black
and blue.

She’d slept soundly. She hadn’t even woken up
when her aunt had come home. Unless, oh my, perhaps Aunt Freida
hadn’t come home last night? Was it possible that Thomas Bean had
convinced her to go home with him?

No. She dismissed that idea at once. Mrs.
Bean would have met the couple at the door and looking at her would
not inspire anyone to want to have sex. Bella thought it was
amazing that the woman had somehow managed to produce two sons
because that meant she’d at least done it twice.

But that didn’t mean that Thomas couldn’t
have spent the night cuddled up with Freida in the other
room—perhaps testing out to see if they had the
what
. Trying
to be discreet, Bella opened the door and peeked out.

Damn. Freida’s bed was not only empty, she
was dressed and already standing at the stove.

“Good morning,” Bella said.

“Morning, dear. Sleep well?”

“Like a log. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Thomas insisted on staying for the very last
dance. Lord, my legs are sore this morning. But it was surely fun.
If it’s possible, his brother Earl is even more smitten with you
after you took pity on the poor man and danced with him last night.
He came over and sat with us and you were all he could talk about.
You’re a
vision
, you know that, don’t you?”

“Excellent,” Bella said, smiling at her aunt.
“If he could only see me now.” She pointed at her hair which always
looked big and scary in the mornings. “I’m going to get some
clothes on, take care of some business outside, and then we can get
an early start to the store.”

Aunt Freida cracked eggs into a bowl. “It’s
Sunday, dear. The store isn’t open. Services start at nine.”

Church. Of course. She hadn’t been to church
since her mother had died.

“We’ll need to hurry home today,” Aunt Freida
added. “I’ve invited Thomas, Earl, Mrs. Bean and her companion,
Constance to join us for Sunday dinner.”

Bella looked around the crowded room. She
didn’t know where all those people intended to sit. There weren’t
that many available chairs.

Aunt Freida laughed. “I know. I’ve got a
little tidying to do before they get here.”

It was times like this she really regretted
that she’d had to leave her magic at home. Even Averil would be
hard pressed not to see that this warranted extreme measures.
“Where would you like me to start?” she asked.

Aunt Freida smiled. “I’m not sure. You’re the
one who has the talent for organizing and such.”

Yes, well, she was fairly sure the bulldozer
had yet to be invented so that left that option out. “I guess the
best plan would be to take everything into my bedroom. We’ll shut
the door and hope the Mrs. Bean doesn’t take it upon herself to go
exploring.”

“The woman does make me nervous,” Aunt Freida
admitted. She straightened up from the stove. “By the way,” she
said, her tone much too casual, “you and Jedidiah left early last
night.”

It wasn’t a question or a statement, but
rather, something in between. “Yes,” she said, hoping Aunt Freida
would let it go. In her heart she knew that was as hopeless as
wishing the Titanic had never sunk.

“You know, I like Jedidiah McNeil very much,”
Aunt Freida said. “He’s been very much like a son to me.”

Bella resisted the urge to sigh. “I know
that.”

Aunt Freida turned to face her. “But he’s not
blood, Bella, and you are. And while you’re a grown woman, I’m
still responsible for you while you’re here. So if he’s done or
said anything to make you uncomfortable, then I need to know that,
and I’ll take it up with him.”

Oh this was great. Her legacy in Mantosa
would be that she was the woman who drove a stake between Freida
Stroganhaufer and Jedidiah McNeil. “Jed didn’t do anything wrong,”
she said. “He just…” Bella could feel the heat rush to her
face.

“Just what?” Aunt Freida picked up a wooden
spoon and slapped it against her hand.

“He kissed me,” Bella blurted out.

Aunt Freida stopped slapping and considered
her. “And what did you do?”

Melted. Exploded. Most any action verb
would fit.
“I sort of kissed him back,” she hedged.

Aunt Freida folded her arms across her chest,
pursed her lips, and raised one eyebrow. Simultaneously. Bella
would have appreciated the coordination of movements if she hadn’t
been altogether consumed with the memory of how she’d
sort
of
kissed Jed back. She sank down in the chair and buried her
face in her hands.

Aunt Freida didn’t say a word. Finally, Bella
worked up the courage to look up. Aunt Freida stood in the same
spot, a big grin on her weathered face.

“You’re telling me,” Aunt Freida said, “that
you and Jedidiah have the
what
?”

Bella almost swallowed her tongue. “No. Oh,
no. Absolutely not. You can’t know that you have the
what
with one kiss.”

Aunt Freida shook her head. “I don’t know,
Bella. Maybe you ought to let him kiss you again just so you can
know for sure.”

She’d probably spontaneously combust. “That’s
not a good idea. Come on. Let’s get this place picked up.”

By the time Bella and Aunt Freida left for
church, the cabin was in much better shape. Her bed was a college
sorority tea party—there were dolls everywhere, most of them half
dressed, a few with fully painted faces, and there was tea cups and
other assorted crap everywhere around them.

Bella was surprised when Aunt Freida drove
her wagon up to Stonemark Hall. “This is where you have
church?”

“Makes for comfortable praying,” Aunt Freida
said. “I don’t reckon God will fault us for that.”

Once inside the church, she saw many from the
night before. Wymer. Patience and her sister, Madeline. The Bean
brothers. Mrs. Bean and Constance, looking as sour as ever. Rows of
chairs had been set up on the dance floor and a big wooden cross
had been rolled in. She saw Saul in the back row. Their eyes met
and Bella could feel the man’s animosity.