Page 10 of Borrowed Time

DRESSING THE PART

He’d broughttheir dirty dishes down to the hotel’s kitchen, even though the waiter who’d wheeled the cart of food up to Deborah’s — Devynn’s — room had told him he could just leave them in the hallway. But the small task gave Seth an excuse to get away, to let himself be alone with his thoughts for a while.

He’d known she was from the future…but he could never have guessed she was a Wilcox.

Looking back, he could now detect some little inconsistencies in the things Devynn had said to him, how she’d done her best to use the excuse of amnesia to hide her ignorance of what the world was like in 1926. He supposed he’d been so utterly entranced by her that he hadn’t stopped to question any of those minor discrepancies, finding all sorts of ways to make excuses for her.

And now he had to decide what to do next. Forgive her? Tell her in no uncertain terms that the way she’d lied to him about her true identity was unforgivable and he never wanted to have anything to do with her again?

The second option didn’t seem very likely, for a variety of reasons. Yes, he knew he was still angry…but he also had toadmit that he had no idea how he would have reacted if he’d been lost in a decade…a century…not his own.

Although, he thought, with a grim twist of his lips, he was finding out that very thing now.

Back in his room now, with only a wall separating him from the chamber where Devynn slept. Or at least, he hoped she was sleeping, doing her best to regain her strength. Emma’s magic had brought her back from the brink, but still, she had some recovering to do. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said she looked better after eating, some color beginning to return to her cheeks, and yet she still appeared far too pale for his liking.

And he knew he wasn’t in the same position Devynn had been in when she traveled back to his time, because they were in this together, for better or worse, whereas she’d had to navigate being in a new century all on her own. Also, it seemed as if they had stumbled onto an entirely unexpected ally in Jeremiah Wilcox, who appeared ready to offer whatever help he could, possibly out of some obligation to a woman who was his grand-niece at least five or six times removed.

At least, Seth couldn’t see any other reason why he’d decided to lend a hand. Somehow he doubted that Jeremiah would have been quite so helpful if Devynn hadn’t turned out to be half Wilcox.

And it seemed as if their situation wasn’t quite as unprecedented as he’d thought. Once — either more than a hundred years ago or just the other week, depending on how you looked at the situation — the Wilcoxprimushad helped Devynn’s mother and father escape this time and get to a place where they would be safe.

Could he manage the same feat again?

Seth honestly couldn’t say for sure. It sounded as though Danica Wilcox possessed much greater control over her time-traveling gift than her daughter did. Jeremiah had lent hisstrength so Danica and Robert Rowe could return to her time, but he didn’t have any inherent powers of time travel. And with Devynn’s talent being so unreliable, it might not be that good an idea to have Jeremiah help out. They might be sent back to ancient Greece — or into an unimaginable future where people flew in rockets and visited other planets, like in those books his cousin Freddie was always ordering from New York, and which eventually joined Seth’s library once Freddie had tired of them.

We’ll figure that out when we have to,he told himself.For now, you’re safe.

What an odd thing to think when he was trapped in the heart of enemy territory. And yet, although he still wasn’t sure whether he could allow himself to trust Jeremiah Wilcox, he had to admit that the man had handled the situation admirably — had made sure Devynn was healed, had gotten them accommodations that were certainly much better than he otherwise might have expected. From the sound of it, Jeremiah intended to put them up here at the Hotel San Francisco for as long as necessary, so it wasn’t as if he and Devynn needed to fear being homeless.

No, what they really needed to worry about was whether they would be stuck here forever.

And he couldn’t also stop himself from fretting over his parents’ reaction to his disappearance. Even if Charles had tried to sweep the whole thing under the rug, no one would be able to deny that Seth McAllister and Deborah Rowe had gone missing without a single clue to explain where they might have gone.

Certainly no one would ever think they might be living in the past.

He pulled his covers up to his chin and told himself he needed to stop stewing over this mess, if only because staying up half the night wouldn’t help his current situation. Whatever happened the next day, he needed to face it as rested as possible.

Whether he’d be able to accomplish such a feat was an entirely different question.

But after tossing and turning for a bit, he’d managed to sleep through the night, and to wake when the sun was already up and daylight doing its best to peek past the heavy linen draperies at the windows. Like the room Devynn occupied, this one had been furnished comfortably without being elaborate, quite unlike Jeremiah Wilcox’s heavy, handsome house, which looked like something out of a museum.

No private bathroom, of course; he had to wait his turn to use the facilities and the bathtub, although at least they had actual plumbing here and he could rinse out the tub and fill it again without having to worry about sharing the bathwater. In fact, he’d just gotten back from the bath and was buttoning his shirt when he heard a timid knock at the door.

They didn’t have room service here, and he somehow doubted the maid would be coming by this early.

Frowning, he went to the door and opened it — only to see Devynn standing outside, a frilly robe tied around her and spots of color burning high in her cheeks.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, and if anything, her flush only deepened.

“It’s these damn — darn — clothes,” she replied, speaking in a fast murmur. “Can you come help me?”

Seth wasn’t sure how much help he could be — he’d had a difficult enough time fussing with the puff tie that completed his outfit — but he also didn’t want to leave her stranded.

Even if the mere thought of having to help her get dressed was enough to send a blush of his own to his cheeks.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said, and she released a breath of relief.

“Thank God.”

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