Page 76 of Borrowed Time

“At least we have a healthy son. Anyway, Ruby’s theprima-in-waiting now. Just turned twenty-one in June, so she’s in the middle of her consort search.”

“Little Ruby?” He knew he sounded shocked but couldn’t quite help it.

One corner of Charles’s mouth twitched. “Not so little anymore. I suppose you’ll meet her soon enough as well.”

Too many surprises coming all at once. Of course he should have realized that his cousin Ruby would be a grown woman of twenty-one now, not that much younger than Devynn, but since the last time he’d been around Ruby, she’d been a tiny newborn with the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen, he supposed he could be forgiven for being just a bit shocked.

“Anyway,” Charles continued, “you two go upstairs and get changed. I’ll wait down here, just in case a customer comes in.”

Judging by the ironic tone in his voice, he wasn’t expecting that to happen. But because Seth’s hands had continued to work of their own volition, almost as if they weren’t being guided by his brain, he also had a stack of clothes he thought would work — shirts and undershirts, shoes, pants, socks. Maybe at some point, he’d need to add a sweater or jacket, but this should do for now.

He and Devynn mounted the stairs to the apartment. Although he could feel her gaze on him, full of mute commiseration, she seemed to understand that he didn’t want to talk about his parents…or any of the other changes that had taken place over the past twenty-one years.

More of those changes were apparent in the flat that had been his home for the first two decades of his life — the shabby old brocade sofa had been exchanged for one made of some sort of nubby cloth in a soft greenish-blue shade, and the big radio in its cabinet had been replaced by a low side table with a much smaller unit sitting on top.

But the artwork was the same, mostly landscapes painted by McAllister family artists, along with the Persian rug that covered the worn oak floor underfoot. He found a little comfort in that, even as he knew all the alterations he’d seen were only surface-level changes, with the much more profound one being how empty his childhood home felt, how utterly devoid of life.

Right then, a flash of anger went through him. If Charles didn’t need the place — and clearly, he didn’t, not when he shared the big Victorian up on Paradise Lane with hisprimawife — then why hadn’t he given the apartment to a McAllister relative who was just starting out and looking for a place to live?

Because no one needed it,he thought sadly. With so many people gone, there were probably more desirable homes for those who remained to occupy. Honestly, the biggest appeal of the apartment was that it was conveniently located upstairs for whoever owned the mercantile.

“The bedrooms are on the next floor,” he told Devynn, who’d paused awkwardly next to him as he stopped to survey the living room. “We can change up there.”

He wouldn’t go in his parents’ room — entering that space would only reinforce the terrible news that they were both gone, and he didn’t think he could face that right now — but there wasthe room which had been his when he was a boy, with Charles’s right next to it down the hall. Seth’s bedroom had long ago been turned into a sewing room by his mother, and it seemed she’d taken over Charles’s room for a sort of storage space, since it was mostly filled with boxes and a couple of chairs that had been removed from active duty because they were too scarred and scratched to be used in polite company.

“You can change in there,” Seth said, opening the door to the sewing room a little wider.

Maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea. In one corner was a cloth dressmaker’s dummy, with a half-finished dress in a muted cotton print pinned to it.

A project his mother had started and now would never finish.

A lump formed in his throat, but he swallowed it down as best he could. Losing control wouldn’t bring his parents back.

“Thank you,” Devynn said softly, and laid a gentle hand on his arm for just a moment before she went into the sewing room and shut the door.

Even that brief touch was enough to bring back that damnable lump, but he swallowed again and made himself walk into the junk room and close the door behind him.

And oddly, it felt good to pull off the frock coat and vest and high-collared shirt, and to climb into the pleated wool pants and button-up shirt of crisp cotton. The construction of all the pieces felt a little strange to him, but they weren’t so different from the clothing he’d worn in 1926 that he couldn’t figure out how everything worked. He was glad of the suspenders, because in an odd way, they made him feel more like himself, like the man he’d left behind in a life that now felt as if it had almost been erased.

He was the first one back downstairs — not a huge surprise, since he knew it would take a while for Devynn to remove all those layers of clothing and put on her new ones. The clothing here seemed to be a little more complicated than what she’dworn in 1926, and since she wasn’t familiar with it, she might need a bit more time to get into the various pieces.

Charles gave him a brief nod when he reappeared in the store. “How long were you in 1884?”

“Not quite two weeks.”

Was that all? It felt like a lifetime, although something about their stay in Flagstaff now seemed a little unreal, as though he’d read about it in a book rather than experiencing it for himself.

“Why then?”

“I don’t know,” Seth replied. “Devynn’s gift is time travel, but she can’t always control it. We got sent there when we were escaping from Lionel Allenby.” He paused there and sent his brother an inquiring look. “What happened to him?’

Now Charles looked almost amused. “A horrible accident. He fell while inspecting that exploratory mine shaft. Went right over the side of the cliff and wasn’t found until the next morning. The sheriff ruled it an accidental death, and that was the end of it.”

Most likely, there hadn’t been anything “accidental” about Lionel’s demise, and Seth also guessed that his brother had taken care to remove the pistol that had preceded the other man’s “fall” off the cliff. Not that he cared too much. As far as he was concerned, his former boss had gotten exactly what he deserved.

Before he could think of an appropriate comment to make — if one even existed — a creak of the floorboards made him glance away from his brother.

Devynn was approaching, wearing a deep brick red dress with an artfully draped neckline and a skirt much fuller than what he was used to in modern women’s wear, although of course it was still simpler in cut than anything she’d worn back in 1884. No sign of the amulet, and he wondered if she’d stashed it in a pocket so it wouldn’t be visible against the open neck of her gown.

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