Page 6 of Stolen Time

Faced with that declaration, Seth knew there was no point in arguing further. Besides, while he’d walked down to his cousin’shouse the ordinary way because the clan had long ago agreed that he couldn’t just blink himself into other people’s homes without so much as a by-your-leave, he knew such strictures didn’t bind him when it came to appearing in the apartment over the mercantile that had been his childhood home. He could be there and back very quickly, even accounting for the time it would take his mother to locate some proper garments for the strange woman.

“Very well,” he said. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”

With that, he imagined the sitting room of the apartment, the comfortably worn furniture that contrasted with the big, shiny radio in its cabinet that had been given a place of honor on the wall opposite the fireplace. At this hour, he guessed his mother and father and his older brother Charles would all be sitting down to dinner, so appearing in the sitting room wouldn’t be quite as much of a disruption.

Immediately, he stood in those familiar surroundings, and took a moment to get his bearings. As he’d thought, the clinks of silverware and murmur of voices came clearly to his ears, even over the static-y sound of a jazz orchestra coming through the radio’s speaker.

Steeling himself, Seth made his way to the dining room. As always, his father sat at the head of the table, with his mother to his right and Charles immediately across from her. As soon as he paused at the entrance, his mother caught sight of him and set down her fork.

“Seth!” she exclaimed, and began to rise from her seat. “I didn’t know you were coming to dinner tonight.”

“I wasn’t,” he told her. It was on his lips to add that there was no reason for her to get up from her chair, but then he realized she would have had to leave the table at some point to fetch the necessary clothing from the store downstairs. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I need your help.”

“What’s wrong?” his father asked. Like both his sons, he was tall and blue-eyed, although his brown hair had already begun to gray at the temples, and he wasn’t quite as slim as he’d been when he inherited the mercantile from Seth’s grandfather some eight years earlier.

As quickly as he could, Seth explained the situation. Through it all, his father wore an increasing frown, while his mother only appeared concerned.

Before either of them could respond, however, Charles spoke up. Although barely a year separated the two men, he had always taken his responsibilities as the oldest son seriously, and was very concerned with propriety.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to have this woman staying at your house,” he said. “It would appear very improper to anyone looking in from the outside.”

Irritation flared, but Seth did his best to push it aside. Getting into an argument now didn’t seem like a very good idea.

“I’m not having her move in with me permanently,” he responded, knowing there was a snap to his words that he hadn’t been able to fully contain. “Once she’s awake and we can determine who she is and where she came from, then we can all work to get her back to her people. In the meantime, though, Helen thought — and I agree — that the stranger should at least have a change of clothes.”

“She certainly should,” his mother agreed. Like Helen, who was Molly McAllister’s actual first cousin and not the much looser interpretation of the word that witch clans used to refer to anyone in their families, she was blonde and blue-eyed, and slight enough of stature that people often wondered how she’d been able to produce two sons who were both north of six feet tall. “And I will help you find something for her.” She looked over at her husband and other son, adding, “Go ahead and finish your dinner. This shouldn’t take very long.”

Although from the outside it might have seemed as though Henry McAllister ruled the roost, Seth knew his mother was the real person in charge of their household. While both his father and brother appeared a little put out, neither of them said anything as she looped her arm in his and went downstairs with him to the ground floor of the three-story building.

“Is Helen with her now?” she asked, and Seth nodded.

“Yes. We didn’t want to leave the girl alone for too long.”

“It all sounds rather sad to me. There was no way to tell who she is?”

He shook his head as they entered the stockroom at the back of the store. “She wasn’t carrying a bag and didn’t seem to have a wallet of any kind.”

Not that having one in her possession would have made much of a difference. While he’d heard some other states required driver’s licenses and that people used them as a form of identification, things weren’t nearly so formal here in Arizona. And even if the woman he’d found wasn’t from his state, there was a very good chance she didn’t even drive. While women were making greater strides in that area, especially after the Great War when so many men had gone overseas to fight, there were still quite a few among the male half of the population who didn’t think women had any business being behind the wheel of a car.

His mother made a tutting kind of sound. “How very unfortunate,” she said. “But I suppose it’s lucky that we just got a new batch of clothing in from New York. There should be several things that will fit her.” She stopped there, blue eyes keen on his face. “I don’t suppose you have any idea of her size.”

The glaring lightbulb his mother had switched on as they entered the stockroom probably did a very good job of illuminating the embarrassed flush that rose to his cheeks. “I, um….” He stopped for a moment to gather himself, doing his best to remember that he was now a grown man of twenty-four and didn’t need to act like a foolish schoolboy. “I suppose she’s around cousin Daphne’s size,” he said quickly, naming a relative who was slim and rather tall, and his best guess for an approximation of the strange woman’s height and build.

This seemed to be enough information for his mother, who gave a quick nod and then started inspecting the stack of clothing on the big table in the middle of the room, which was the usual dumping ground for new clothing stock that had arrived at the store but hadn’t yet been put on display in the mercantile. She pulled out several dresses and a shirtwaist and skirt, and added to those items a selection of undergarments whose presence again made him want to blink and look away.

To his eyes, it seemed like rather a lot for someone who no doubt would be returned to her family as soon as she regained consciousness, but he didn’t protest. Molly McAllister knew what she wanted and how to make it happen, and Seth had long ago realized it was best to stay silent and simply let her go about her business.

At last, though, it seemed as if the pile of clothing she’d assembled was enough to satisfy her, because she glanced up at her son and said, “And shoes?”

Thank God he’d taken off the stranger’s boots, so at least he had a rough idea of her shoe size. “About like this,” he said, holding up two hands to indicate the length of her feet.

His mother looked almost disapproving. “Big feet, then.”

Were they? Seth had to admit that he didn’t spend a lot of time looking at women’s feet, so he didn’t have much of a point of reference. “Possibly,” he allowed.

Undeterred, Molly went to the shelf where they stored the boxes of shoes that hadn’t yet been put on display and rummaged through them for a moment. “These should do,” she said, coming back to him with a shoebox tucked under one arm. “Honestly, I’m glad to get this pair off my hands, because noone around here seems to wear this size. But if it works for this woman you found, then all the better.”

He took the shoebox, then stood there as his mother piled the rest of the garments she’d collected on top of it. Again, he thought it seemed like an awful lot…and he also couldn’t help being a bit worried as to how he was going to get all this back to his house without spilling something.