Page 47 of Stolen Time

“That’s all right,” he said. “I’ll talk to Mr. Allenby when I get to work tomorrow morning. I’ve never asked him for any extra time off, so I know he won’t mind if I leave a few hours early.”

“Good boy,” Mabel said, and he tried not to wince. “Then Abigail and I will see you tomorrow afternoon.”

She swept off into the crowd after that, calling out to one of the clan’s elders with the sort of cheer in her voice that seemed to indicate she was already imagining Seth as her daughter’s consort. That would tie everything up in a neat, tidy bow, after all.

Never mind that he wanted no part of it, even though he’d done his best to convince himself it was better to get all this over with as quickly as possible so he might go back to courting Deborah.

If that was even what he was doing. The word “courting” seemed far too bound up in ritual and tradition to describe how they’d been spending their time together over the past week.

Enjoying one another’s company, then.

But because he’d now spoken with Mabel and set a time for his meeting with destiny, so to speak, Seth didn’t see much point in staying here any longer. No, he’d go home and do his best to gather his courage…even as he tried with all his might to ignore the insidious little whisper in his mind that told him with everyone here at the party, this might be the best time to drop by Ruth and Timothy’s house and spend a few stolen moments with Deborah Rowe.

The only reason he didn’t give in to the impulse was that he’d already told her he would be occupied with family business this week, and he didn’t want to give the impression of someone who couldn’t stick to a thing once he’d set his mind to it. Besides, everything would be decided after tomorrow. Either he would be Abigail’s consort, or he would be free to pursue Deborah without having to worry about any further obligations hangingover his head. Possibly, it still wasn’t such a good idea to become involved with someone whose past wasn’t merely a closed book, but one that had been locked and the key lost, and yet Seth refused to let her missing memories stand in his way. He knew how he felt about Deborah…

…and he was fairly certain he knew how she felt about him as well.

Asking to leave early the next day was harder than Seth had thought it would be, mainly because he’d spent so much time attempting to avoid his supervisor that it took some effort of will to force himself into the man’s path.

Lionel Allenby had an office in one of the buildings on the mine’s property, a space used by the inspectors and the secretaries and other support staff. After checking to make sure that his men had a good start that morning, Seth walked over to Allenby’s office, wondering what he would do if the man wasn’t there.

Come back later and try again, he supposed. It wasn’t as if he could go to Mabel and inform her that he wouldn’t be able to meet with Abigail for the consort’s kiss because he hadn’t been able to track down his supervisor.

As luck would have it — or maybe not, depending on how one looked at the situation — Lionel Allenby was seated behind his desk, poring over a ledger full of notations, when Seth stepped into his office and paused by the door.

Almost a full minute passed before Allenby deigned to look up from his ledger. “What is it, McAllister?”

“Some family business has come up,” Seth responded, glad he sounded steady and sure of himself, giving no hint thatthe “business” involved a meeting that might change his life forever. Aprima’sconsort didn’t have a job, but instead spent his days attending to clan business and making sure his wife was supported in all ways. This change in life circumstance was usually explained away with a story about an unexpected inheritance, so if it turned out he was Abigail’s consort after all, he would never come back to the United Verde, except to say goodbye to his team and gather the few belongings he kept in a locker there. “I’ll need to leave a little before three today.”

Allenby’s brows drew together. Judging by that frown, Seth got the impression the man wanted to ask what kind of “family business” was involved here but realized that probing into the McAllister clan’s private workings wasn’t a very good idea. Richard Clark might have owned the mine — and most of Clarkdale as well — but the McAllisters reigned supreme in Jerome, no matter what the deeds on the houses and the buildings there might have said.

Watching him, Seth did his best to conceal his dislike for the man. Up until the time when Charles had made his revelations about his connection to the bootlegging ring, he’d thought Lionel Allenby a tough supervisor but one who was generally fair enough. Now he knew it was all a front to cover up the much more lucrative business of manufacturing and distributing illegal alcohol.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Allenby said after a pause, one Seth knew was calculated to make it seem as if his supervisor actually had a say in the matter. “Just make sure you designate one of your men as temporary foreman for the hours involved so people know who to go to in case of a problem.”

“I can do that,” Seth replied. “Thank you, sir.”

“Well, I’m not one to interfere with McAllister business,” Allenby said. “But I’ll still expect you to be here promptly at eight tomorrow.”

Seth had no doubt his supervisor had made that comment because he wanted to let his underling know who was still boss here, even if he was granting a small accommodation. “Of course, sir.”

He nodded and went back outside, then paused to allow himself a deep breath. Anger at the man flared, and for a second or two, he thought it might not be such a bad thing to become the consort to theprima-in-waiting if it meant he never had to come back here.

But that was irritation speaking, nothing more.

There was no way in the world he wanted to be paired with Abigail, not when he knew his heart was already given.

The fateful day both dragged and at the same time seemed as though it was flashing past far too quickly. While he had to admit there was always some benefit to hearing the worst and getting it over with, he also didn’t want to believe that after today, he might not have any sort of a future with Deborah Rowe.

Not if he turned out to be Abigail’s consort.

And even though he tried his damnedest to pay attention to his work and to make it seem as if this was just another ordinary day — except for the small matter of needing to leave early, something he never did — his mind kept working at the problem, wondering what he would say to Deborah if it ended up that he was fated to be with his cousin Abigail after all.

Something about arranged marriages, he supposed. They weren’t terribly common anymore, but enough families still followed the practice that he didn’t believe Deborah would find anything too odd about the story. In a way, it wasn’t even a falsehood; if he became Abigail’s consort, one might say that theuniverse had arranged the match…although if that turned out to be the case, then he thought he might have a few choice words for the universe and its supposed wisdom.

Although his meeting with Abigail was at three, he left the mine at a little past two-thirty, thinking that, even if he dreaded the upcoming kiss with every fiber of his being, he should at least show his cousin — and theprima— the proper respect, and go home first and wash his face and hands, and change into his Sunday best. It definitely wouldn’t do to appear at their house covered in reddish rock dust and sticky with sweat.

However, he couldn’t help feeling just the slightest bit sticky anyway as he blinked himself from the living room of his bungalow to the tangle of bottlebrush and forsythia on one side of Mabel’s house on Paradise Lane. It was a secluded enough spot that no one would have been able to see him appear there out of thin air, but using his magic rather than his feet to get here saved him from a long walk uphill in the heat of a June afternoon. Clouds massing far off above the Mogollon Rim told him they might have thunderstorms later today, although he knew they wouldn’t arrive until much later, possibly even close to sunset.

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