Page 21 of Stolen Time

Seth had thought much the same thing, which was part of the reason why he’d returned here at the end of the day. Still, it was generally his job to oversee a small project like boarding up the mine shaft, not the superintendent’s.

However, he knew better than to question the doings of his superior. “I’m sorry about the delay in getting it closed up,” he said. “It was on my list of things I needed to do this week.”

“It’s fine, my boy,” Allenby said, and clapped an avuncular hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I know you’ve been busy. But as I always say, what difference who does the work as long as it gets done in the end?”

“Of course,” Seth responded right away. While he wasn’t afraid to stand up for himself — or his team — when the situation truly warranted it, he also knew it was foolish to jeopardize his position at the mine by making specious protests. “I’m glad to see it was so easy to take care of.”

“Well, it was rather a small shaft,” Allenby said. “Too bad there wasn’t anything worth digging up here, but I suppose that’s just how it goes sometimes. I’ll let you get back to finish up with your team.”

Those words were an obvious dismissal, so Seth only nodded and headed over to the open pit where his men were working to finish the final part of their quota for the day. After all, he didn’twant to linger here, not when he would be meeting Deborah for dinner very soon.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t quite stop himself from wondering why Lionel Allenby had been so motivated to make sure that particular mineshaft was hidden from public view.

7

A LITTLE NOODLE

It wasstupid to be nervous, wasn’t it? After all, this was just dinner, nothing crazy.

Right. Like this planned dinner with Seth at the English Kitchen didn’t have “first date” written all over it.

Ruth hadn’t seemed too worried about me skipping dinner at her house to go out with her nephew — or cousin; I was still a little foggy as to their actual relationship. In fact, she’d seemed cheered by the prospect, as though she was already thinking of us as a couple. During the day, when I’d helped her by hanging up the wash in the backyard, shelled what felt like an entire mountain of peas, and stood by and acted as operating nurse, handing over carefully measured vanilla and sugar and anything else she requested as she baked what seemed like enough apple tarts to feed the entire town, she’d told me a few things about Seth.

He was the younger of two brothers — which I’d already guessed — and McAllister Mercantile had been in the family for going on three generations. Ruth didn’t seem to have any problem telling me how the clan had emigrated from Scotland some fifty years earlier, although obviously, she kept out anymention of the tiny little detail about them all being witches and warlocks. Because of her, I learned that Seth wasn’t married and had never even been engaged, unlike his older brother Charles.

“But she broke it off,” Ruth said, looking almost indignant, as if she couldn’t imagine how anyone would have the bad taste to turn down a chance at becoming a member of the McAllister clan. “Her family was always very strict. They decided that Charles wasn’t suitable, and the poor girl got sent off to stay with an aunt in Prescott. That was only six months ago, so of course Charles hasn’t been in any mood to start looking for a wife. I’m sure he will again soon enough, though — at twenty-five, it’s high time he got married and started a family.”

That was a little old for a warlock to be unattached, especially in light of the age in which he was living. I found myself feeling sorry for Charles, whom I had yet to meet, and wondered if Seth was being wary about settling down after seeing what had happened to his brother.

Then again, a cautious man probably wouldn’t have invited me out to dinner in such a public place.

I hadn’t asked a lot of questions — no need to, not when Ruth McAllister seemed just fine with volunteering all sorts of information about the family. Surface-level stuff, sure…she wasn’t loose-lipped enough to let slip anything too sensitive…but still, it seemed like the clan was doing just fine, and rather than feeling impinged upon because she’d taken in a nonpaying guest, she seemed happy that someone had shown up to fill a little of the gap left behind after the youngest of her children married and moved out to start her own life.

That meant I was armed with a lot more facts now than I’d been the day before, and yet I still couldn’t quite ignore the fluttery sensation in my stomach when someone knocked at the door.

I’d been sitting in the front room, pretending to read a copy ofTheLadies Home Journal— something that probably would have brought a pretty penny if sold in a vintage shop in my own time — when Seth knocked on the door. At once, I set down the magazine and went to answer it. Ruth had already told me I could let him in when he came, since she and her husband always sat down to dinner at six-thirty and Seth would be arriving a little after that.

He’d clearly gone home and washed up, since his face was clean and shiny, hair slightly damp and combed back from his brow.

How could someone be so adorable and so drop-dead gorgeous at the same time?

“Evening,” he said, and I smiled.

“Evening. Did you want to come in?”

He sent a glance past me, presumably toward the dining room where Ruth and Timothy were sharing their meal, and shook his head. “No, that’s all right. We can just head down to the restaurant.”

Fine by me. Ruth had fed me a lunch much bigger than I usually ate, of cold chicken and fruit and a leftover roll from dinner the night before, but that had been almost seven hours ago, and I was ready to eat again.

For a second, I thought Seth might offer me his arm, because he made a hesitant movement before deciding maybe that was taking too many liberties after such a short acquaintance. To be honest, I had very little idea of what was acceptable and what wasn’t in the world of 1926, although I had a feeling that, while this wasn’t the Victorian age any longer, people were still a lot more reserved than their counterparts in the twenty-first century.

Instead, we headed out, with the two of us walking down the porch steps and then following the curve of the street as itwended its way toward Jerome’s main drag. Just like the night before, music and laughter drifted up toward us, letting me know that even on a Monday evening, the little mining town was still a pretty happening place. I’d gotten that impression from some of the bits of local history I’d read, but it was much different to witness all that activity in person.

I hadn’t gotten much of a chance to explore yet, thanks to being stuck at Ruth’s house all day, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking side to side, trying to take in all the sights and sounds. The buildings appeared to be almost the same as they were in the twenty-first century, less worn, of course, but everything was pretty much right where it was supposed to be.

There were far more restaurants and hotels and boarding houses than I’d expected, and a lot fewer shops. I supposed that made some sense; back in 1926, Jerome had been very much a working town, not the tourist attraction it had become. These people needed to sleep and places to eat and drink, and probably couldn’t have cared less about buying a copper bracelet or a piece of Navajo horsehair pottery.

The street layout was just the same as I remembered, and we turned down Jerome Avenue from Main Street so we could get to the English Kitchen. It seemed much smaller than its modern-day incarnation as Bobby D’s, mostly because the big patio/deck off the back where you could sit outside and eat barbecue and smell the luscious pecan wood smoke from the smokers they had going all day hadn’t yet made its appearance.