Page 23 of Stolen Time

I could almost see his brain working as he analyzed my statement, trying to see if it had any meaning beyond the innocent use of a phrase that wouldn’t be significant to anyone outside the witch world, telling himself that of course it had to be a coincidence. His own senses would have already reassured him that I couldn’t be a witch. Otherwise, he would have known I was more than an ordinary young woman the moment we met.

Of course, he could have no idea that I’d inherited a very special gift from my father, one he’d told me wasn’t uncommon in his clan but which appeared to be utterly unknown to the clans here in the Southwest.

But then Seth’s expression relaxed, and it seemed clear to me that he’d brushed the slight dissonance aside.

“Maybe,” he allowed. “Although I’d say most folks I’ve met are pretty friendly and ready to lend a helping hand to those who’re in a difficult situation through no fault of their own. Still,” he went on, clear blue eyes meeting mine, “I can’t say I’m sorry that you ended up here.”

Our gazes held for just a moment, and then he looked back down at his plate of chop suey. He might have been kicking himself for being so open, even if for only a few seconds, but I was glad he’d been so unguarded right then.

That brief instant had been enough to tell me this was a little more than just a friendly dinner, and a certain warmth kindled in the pit of my stomach, one that had very little to do with the food I was eating or the tea I’d just drunk.

No, this was the happy realization that the guy I thought I liked seemed to like me back.

Of course, reason kicked in a minute later, reminding me that the man who’d shared that soulful gaze with me across the table had lived and died decades before I was even born, and the absolute last thing I should be doing was thinking we had any kind of a future together.

I made myself look down at my meal as well, knowing it would be absolute madness to encourage him.

Even if I really did want to.

“You’ve all been very kind,” I said, forcing a lightness to my tone that I definitely didn’t feel. “I have to thank you all for that.”

As I’d hoped, the polite words might as well have been a bucket of cold water thrown on the conversation. Seth mumbledsomething like, “I’m glad to hear it,” and the two of us attended to our food for the next few minutes without saying anything else.

But then someone paused by our table, and I looked up to see a man who was probably a year or so older than Seth and very much like him in looks, with the same mid-brown hair and blue eyes. However, his features were subtly different, not quite as perfect from every angle, even though I supposed he was attractive enough.

“Is this Aunt Ruth’s guest?” the newcomer asked, and Seth put down his fork, looking resigned.

“Yes, this is Deborah Rowe,” he said, then glanced over at me. “Deborah, this is my older brother Charles.”

No wonder they looked so much alike. I put on a smile and said, “I’m very pleased to meet you, Charles.”

He inclined his head toward me. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Rowe. It seems like my brother is taking good care of you.”

Innocuous enough words, but there was an undercurrent of almost condescension to them that made my hackles go up. “Oh, he is,” I said calmly, knowing I should do my best to be polite. For all I knew, I was reading way more into his tone than necessary. I was probably just a little on edge from the raw moment Seth and I had shared a moment earlier. “I wanted to see more of the town,” I went on, “so Seth very kindly offered to take me to his favorite restaurant.”

This was a flat-out lie, of course, because it was Seth who’d invited me to dinner, not vice versa. In fact, I noticed the way his lips parted for a moment, as though he’d intended to say something, and then realized it was probably better not to contradict me in front of his brother.

Charles smiled thinly. “I’m afraid there isn’t much to see. We’re in quite a little corner of the world here in Jerome.”

Well, that was true enough, I supposed, but I still didn’t like his tone very much. “Oh, it may be small,” I replied, “but I think it’s fascinating.”

His gaze flicked to Seth, but my dinner companion only said, “Yes, Miss Rowe has seemed interested in just about everything she’s seen so far. It makes me think she must be from somewhere far away, although of course, none of us knows yet where that might be.”

“Yes, Mother told me a little about Miss Rowe’s amnesia.” Charles stopped there — maybe wondering if he should ask me directly about my condition? — but then he must have realized that interrupting our dinner for much longer wouldn’t be very polite, because he said, “I hope you’re feeling better soon. It was nice to meet you.”

A nod toward me, and then he headed over to the counter, where he picked up a brown paper bag of what I assumed must be a takeout order, then headed out the door.

This mystified me somewhat. Hadn’t Seth said something about his brother still living at home with their parents?

My gaze must have been questioning, as he said, “Sometimes Charles likes to fetch his own dinner. I suppose it makes him feel more independent, since he still shares the apartment over the mercantile with our parents.”

Well, that seemed to explain that. “Something that’s a lot easier in Jerome, considering you can walk pretty much anywhere you need to go.”

While I wouldn’t have said Seth seemed exactly tense, I still couldn’t help noticing the way he relaxed against the back of the booth as I spoke, as though my words had helped to dissipate a little of the tension that had arisen with the arrival of his brother. “True. I don’t think our mother is very happy about him fetching his own meals from time to time, but I suppose she’s trying to give him a little grace.”

“‘Grace’?” I echoed. As far as I’d been able to tell, Charles McAllister looked like an able-bodied man in his middle twenties. He didn’t seem like the sort of person who would require a lot of coddling.

For a split second, Seth appeared vaguely uncomfortable. But then he gave a hitch of his shoulders and said, “He was engaged, but his fiancée called it off. She’s living in Prescott now with her great-aunt.”

---