Page 51 of Stolen Time

And that was actually what we ordered — apple for him, berry for me, accompanied by a couple of tall iced teas. After our waitress dropped off the food, I felt as if it was finally time to ask the question I’d been holding back for the past fifteen minutes.

“So…you got your family business handled?” I inquired, and he nodded, looking far more cheerful than I’d seen him in a while.

“Yes, it’s all taken care of,” he replied. “It’s nothing I’ll need to worry about ever again.”

That was all he said, but because I’d already read between the lines, I knew the consort kiss had been a swing and a miss for the McAllisterprima-in-waiting. She was probably feeling as disappointed as he was relieved.

But although some part of me could be sympathetic to Abigail for missing out on having someone handsome and smart and kind as her consort, a much, much larger part was simply happy that Seth had been knocked out of the running, and the two of us could go back to the way things were.

What that meant exactly, I didn’t know for sure. I hadn’t spent all my time while he was waiting to audition to be the new McAllister clan consort simply moping or weeding the garden — no, when I was alone in my borrowed room, I’d tried several times to send myself back when I was supposed to be. And on each occasion, I’d utterly failed. Maybe I could have done more, made multiple attempts each day, and yet I wasn’t sure whether that would have made any difference at all.

How long was I supposed to wait before I resigned myself to being here permanently? It had already been almost two weeks, and it sure felt as though two more weeks would pass, and two more after that, and….

At some point, I’d have to admit I didn’t have the power to get back to the twenty-first century. I hoped Bellamy McAllister wasn’t too wracked with guilt over daring me to go into the mine, and I prayed my family would someday be able to get past the strange disappearance of their middle child. After all, my father had left behind his own family and friends to make a life with my mother in the modern world, so this sort of circumstance wouldn’t be quite as strange for them as it might have been for a lot of other people.

In the meantime, I reassured myself that all my tenure here in 1926 Jerome was slipping by in the past, and therefore neither I nor anyone else I knew had even been born yet, and if we hadn’t been born, then they couldn’t know I was missing. Or at least, I hoped that was how it worked. Not being an expert on time travel despite my dubious gift…or maybe because of it…I couldn’t really say for sure.

The only thing I knew with any certainty was how much I cared for Seth McAllister, and how much it had hurt to think he might be Abigail’s consort. All those worries had been for nothing, apparently, and that meant Seth was free to pursue a relationship with me.

Since it didn’t look as though I was going anywhere soon, either, how long was I going to place caution over the truth of my heart?

Judging by the thrill that went through me as our gazes met across the table, not for very long at all.

“That’s good news,” I said. Then I paused, wondering how bold I should be. Even though I’d been in 1926 for the greater part of two weeks, I still didn’t have a completely firm handle as to how a young woman my age was supposed to act.

Then again, sometimes you just had to say, screw it.

“I know it was a couple of days,” I went on. “But it felt like forever.”

“You missed me?” Seth asked, face lighting up like a kid who just found out Santa was real.

“Of course I missed you,” I replied. “I don’t think I really understood how much I enjoyed our time together until you had to step away for a while.”

He was quiet for a moment, sun-browned fingers playing with the handle of his fork. “Well, there’s no need for that to happen again,” he told me. “So we should do something fun to celebrate.”

“Isn’t this fun?” I asked, only half-joking. That pie was damn good.

Amused crinkles showed around his gentian-blue eyes as he grinned back at me. “Sure, it’s fun,” he said. “But I was thinking about something a little more interesting than a couple of slices of pie. How about we drive into Prescott tomorrow night and have dinner there?”

I had to admit that sounded like a fun outing. Despite living in Jerome for nearly a month in my own time, I still hadn’t driven over the mountain to visit the former state capital. Sure, I’d gone there once when I was a kid, but I had to admit there hadn’t been much about it that wowed me, except maybe the bigpark in front of the historical courthouse downtown. Well, that and the decidedly Wild West–themed restaurant where we had lunch and I’d had the best chocolate milkshake ever.

All the same, it also seemed like quite a drive to take on a weeknight, probably at least an hour each way. That might have been generous, considering I had no idea what the roads in 1926 looked like. Then again, a big part of the journey would be taken up by traveling the switchbacks on 89A — well, Highway 79 in the 1920s — and even in the newest and smartest self-driving car in the world, you could only go so fast because of all the mountainous hairpin turns.

“We won’t be out too late?” I asked, knowing how dubious I sounded.

Another of those brilliant smiles. “I don’t have a curfew, Deborah. Did my aunt Ruth give you one?”

I couldn’t help making a face. “Of course not. I was only worried about you being out so late when you have to get up and go to work the next morning.”

He made a dismissive sound before scooping up another bite of apple pie. “It won’t be late enough to make a difference. So…I can pick you up at six-thirty tomorrow?”

What would be the point in protesting further? I wanted to spend the evening with him, and he was a big boy. He knew that missing a little sleep wouldn’t be a huge deal, even if we ended up coming back much later than expected.

Besides, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was looking forward to taking that scenic drive in his convertible. My hair might be a mess by the time we were done, but it would still be a lot of fun.

“It’s a date,” I told him.

As promised, Seth was at the door to Ruth and Timothy’s house right at six-thirty to pick me up. Any diffidence Ruth might have tried to hide over me seeing Seth was now completely gone, telling me the only reason she’d been concerned was his standing as a possible consort to Abigail. But with that fun little trial by fire now over with, it sure seemed as if we had her blessing. Not, of course, that she was the one to give said blessing — that would be Seth’s parents’ role — and yet I got the impression the McAllisters weren’t too upset by our budding relationship.

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