Hearts Out of Time (17 page)

Jessica expertly eyed the tracks. “You’re right, let’s try to push it aside. Garrett, give me a hand, will you?”

There was no need for his help for the barrel proved empty. They moved it easily, uncovering a lead panel about the size of a small teenager, secured to the wall.

Jessica growled as she slapped her thigh. “I can be such a twit when I put my mind to it. I forgot this is Jake’s hideout. He told me about this place time and time again. He wanted me to come here if ever I needed a safe place. I know there’s money inside, warm clothes, weapons, and anything useful for a quick escape or a shelter.”

A secret agent with a hideout made sense. All they had to do was get inside.

Squinting, Tracy gestured to Jessica. “It’s also a good spot to hide something but look, the panel is sealed. How the heck do we get in?”

“See that black box? You just need to lift the lid and press in numbers. Jake calls it a digital code.”

A digital code in 1899? But you said this was identical to our 1899.”

“William is extremely resourceful,” Garrett said, “a man of wit and discretion. Do you happen to know the code, Jessica?”

The vampire huntress punched in a sequence of eight numbers. The panel slid into the wall. They ducked to fit through the narrow opening and enter a very small room. It was a hideout, all right, but what caught their attention was the man slumped in a corner, gagged and bound from shoulders to ankles.

“Oh, dear God!” Jessica rushed to the tied-up man, unshaven, dirty, and hardly recognizable. Yet the incisive blue gaze couldn’t be mistaken.

The gagged prisoner was Jake Cooper.

Chapter 17

“Jess, I’ve been so worried about you.” The real Jake Cooper’s voice oozed with tenderness and excitement as he passed his hand over his girlfriend’s arm. He didn’t take his eyes off his daredevil of a woman during the entire ride back to Garrett’s Nob Hill mansion.

Garrett didn’t utter a single word between the gunslinger’s place and his house. What was he thinking? Tracy wondered. That he should have figured out the truth sooner? Nobody had, yet Jake still sat beside his vampire huntress, his fingers settling on the inside of her wrist, his gaze traveling from her mouth to her eyes.

“How I’ve missed you, darling.”

“I’ve missed you, too. I couldn’t figure out why you’d become so different. I should have known you weren’t . . . you.” Jessica couldn’t tear her eyes away from him either. She grinned at her man until the horses halted in front of the mansion.

They all gathered in the sitting room, warmed by a welcoming fire, enjoying plush couches and armchairs.

Watching the dirty, weakened gunslinger graze a finger on his girlfriend’s arm, Tracy couldn’t help but feel at peace. The idea of Jake being a bad guy had been a kind of torture from the very beginning. Finding out that he wasn’t in the least responsible for her dad’s abduction was extremely relieving and satisfying.

She hated the idea of an officer of the United States being a traitor and a manipulator. Now she felt that things had been put right, and the smile on her face must have displayed her pleasure.

Garrett paced the room, sat down, then paced the room again. “The blame lays on all of us. Jake, I’ve offered you my most sincere apologies. Nevertheless, that’s far from satisfactory. The true villain deserves punishment and I’m disposed to beat him to death.”

A cold anger brewed in Jake’s eyes. Under the filth, the hard features belonged to a true gunslinger. “No offense, Garrett, but the scoundrel is mine. In order to infiltrate The Circle, he kept me captive for weeks. Every day, he fed me with a spoon, like an infant, questioning me about my habits and about the people around me, threatening to gouge my eyes out if I lied, telling me he’d kill me as soon as he got hold of his damn painting.”

Jessica caressed his hand in a loving gesture. “My poor darling, I so wish I hadn’t been that blind.”

Jake’s blue gaze softened although his stiff stance spoke of revenge. “It isn’t your fault, dearest. The worst thing was that I looked at my reflection, listening to his ravings coming from my own mouth. Can you believe it? Being fed with a spoon? In my own house? I swear I’ll have his hide.”

Like Garrett, he started pacing the room, probably needing to stretch his legs as well as vent his frustration.

Jessica watched his comings and goings, love and pride oozing from her whole body. “Easy, darling. You’re safe here, but you need to get your strength back before you do anything rash.”

Weedon shifted in his large armchair without troubling White Fur, sprawled at his master’s feet.

“No wonder our nemesis was aware of everything we knew. Though I have to say, he took a great risk when we were on your train. Jake, those cowboys he hired had no idea who he was and could have killed him.”

“No. There’s a special hiding place aboard my
Drifter
.”

So the bad guy had a Plan B. Even aware of his schemes, Tracy still wondered about the Englishman’s astonishing physical transformation. But the real gunslinger might know.

“How did he manage it?” she asked Jake. “To look like you, I mean.”

“He stole my stuff and used it well. In my house as well as aboard the train, I keep top-of-the-range cosmetics, wigs, wax to mold faces, and other accessories very useful for my undercover missions. Believe me, this isn’t your average Halloween makeup, but first-class governmental materials. It stands the test of time and touch.”

“Impressive,” she said. What wouldn’t she be able to do with this kind of awesome makeup?

“I have to admit,” Jake said, “the rotten crook knew what he was doing though. He recreated my face perfectly.” Jake returned to Jessica who maintained a soothing tone while she slowly leaned toward the upset gunslinger. “Not only your face, dear. Also your tone of voice, your posture, the way you walk, the way you move . . .”

When she trailed off, a frown line crossed Jake’s brow as he appeared struck by a very, very unpleasant notion. “Have you . . .?”

White Fur remained motionless on the warm, comfortable floor.

Garrett got up as if he’d been sitting on a bed of needles, resumed pacing the room, and ended up standing by the fireplace.

Weedon cleared his throat several times, suddenly suffering from a damn bad case of stuck fishbone.

Tracy leaned discreetly toward the couple, ears pricked, eyes fixed on the vampire huntress. “If I had, his cunning plot wouldn’t have been worth a dime. In certain circumstances, a woman in love cannot be tricked.”

Jake swept her into his arms and kissed her, unconcerned by the fact that he remained filthy as a toad in a muddy pond. She didn’t seem to mind, kissing him back with great enthusiasm.

As Tracy let her gaze drift past the happy couple, she caught Garrett staring at her. Did such blissful passion remind him of their time together? She wasn’t sure, but his intense return gaze aroused her, his expression full of desire.

She dropped her gaze, deliberately focusing on the manliest part of his anatomy for long seconds. By the time she looked up at his face again, he’d clenched his jaw, his left hand gripping the mantelpiece, his knuckles white. She offered him her sweetest smile.

Heedless of their private, silent moment, the gunslinger let go of his darling’s swollen lips and sighed. “If you’d all excuse me, I think I’ll go upstairs now. I really don’t want to impose my stench on you any longer, and I’d rather make myself presentable. Who knows, perhaps with a little help?”

His meaningful gaze didn’t escape Jessica as he leaned over to take her hand. She nodded before leading him to the door.

Once they were gone, Weedon also got up from his armchair. “Very good idea. I’ll go for a wash too. It seems to be the rule in this house tonight. By the way, Tracy . . .”

He walked to the door with slow steps and stalled there, a huge grin spreading over his merry face. “Should my grumpy friend here need some help for his bath—”

“Get out, Weedon.” Garrett uttered his order without looking at anyone, staring at the fire instead as though the flames could give him answers.

But Weedon seemed amused by his friend’s irritation. He winked at her and offered his good arm. “Tracy, would you mind giving assistance to a wounded man?”

“That would be my pleasure.” Her words were spoken in jest, yet she wasn’t positive that inspiring Garrett to jealousy was a terrific idea. Not that it mattered.

Still staring at the fire, Garrett ignored them as they left the room.

She escorted Weedon to his room before going to check on her father. He was awake when she opened the door, unmoving but seeming livelier than two hours earlier. She sat beside him. “How come you’re not sleeping, Dad?”

“I woke up a few minutes ago. Bad dreams I guess but I feel fine now. Would you give me a hand?” He shifted to sit up straighter, a healthier shade of pink tinting his cheeks while she fluffed his pillows.

“I’ll drive you to a hospital tomorrow morning and I want you to stay there for a day or two. They’ll take good care of you.”

“Why? Won’t you be staying with me?”

“No, Dad, I’m coming back here.”

“What for?”

The million-dollar question. She could reveal the truth but wasn’t sure she should. Was he inclined to listen to her emotions?

“We’ve just discovered that the guy who abducted you has been passing for Jake Cooper for a while,” she said.

“What? How?”

“Look, you’re exhausted and I don’t want to bore you with details. We’ve found the real Jake. He’s fine and right now having a bath with Jessica.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Yeah.”

She let her father digest the news until he blew out a breath and fixed his eyes on her. “All right, but what does it have to do with you? I told Garrett to deal with the problem.”

“I remember.” Nothing escaped him, did it? Sure, she might sidetrack him for a time but the necessity to spill out the contents of her heart had been brewing inside her for too long and she needed it out of her. Still she hesitated, pins and needles tickling the pad of her fingers.

“Come on, Tracy. You know you can tell me anything.”

“Okay, okay. Well, I want to stay because I’m in love with Garrett.”

First, her father stared at her with a blank look, his nostrils tightening. Then he creased his brow in disapproval. “I don’t believe this. Did he . . .? Please, tell me the man hasn’t disgraced you in any way?”

“Gee, Dad, you can be so old-fashioned sometimes. Anyway, that’s not really what you want to know, is it?”

His angry frown turned into a deep scowl as his voice soared toward higher-pitched irritation. “Yes, it bloody well is. I expect him to treat you with all due respect. You’re my daughter, and believe me, I won’t tolerate—”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I do, but that’s not the point.”

“All right, what’s your point then? Tell me.”

His deep intake of breath resonated inside her belly. Tension crawling up her muscles, she stared at her father as he opened his mouth. “You and Garrett don’t belong together.” He clenched and unclenched his fists.

She started to worry that all this agitation might be too much for his weakened condition. Trying to calm and soothe him, she took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “Why not? It’s not like we won’t be able to see each other often. I can come to this world anytime I want.”

“Of course you can, but that won’t do you any good. I bet he hasn’t told you, but Garrett is leaving for Britain soon. His family needs him. I’m sorry, Tracy, I wish things were different. I honestly do.”

“Well, I guess I can go to England—”

“Open your eyes, girl!” His anger came back in a rush. Or maybe his common sense, and she shivered even before he carried on.

“He’s Lord Garrett, the eldest son of John Burnes, Duke of Burningham and loyal subject of Her Majesty Queen Victoria. Trust me when I say he’ll never be allowed to marry a lowborn American.”

“What? Garrett’s a real lord?”

Her dad’s mouth stretched sideways in spite of his exasperation. “Yes, darling, he is. And so he must act according to the rules and obligations of his titled society. Do you understand now?”

Throat constricted, fingers shaking, she shook her head. No, she couldn’t understand it but most of all, she wouldn’t. “I’ve got to talk to him.”

“No good can come of that.”

“I have to try.”

Heedless of her tone, her father wagged a finger at her.

She stood up and took an uncertain step back while he shooed her toward the door. “I’ll speak to the man myself. Go fetch him for me.”

“Dad, I don’t think—”

“Now! This instant!”

“Okay, okay. Just cool off, all right? I’ll get him.” She met Garrett in the hallway as she came out of her father’s room. He had removed the Band-Aid on his cheek. The cut had already healed. When he saw her expression, he hurried to her, brow furrowed. “Tracy, what seems to be the trouble?”

“Dad wants to see you.”

Given her father's revelations, her relationship with Garrett was at an end. Numb with shock, shivers crawling up her spine, she didn’t tell him the reason for her father requesting his presence. She left Garrett behind to go straight to her guest bedroom and throw herself on the bed. Sprawled, she buried her face in the bedspread and cried her heart out. Cried until no more tears came.

She got up at some point, still sniffling, and splashed some water on her face to conceal the signs of her despair as best she could. Stepping out of the bathroom, she heard a rattling noise coming from the window.

What the heck? As she squinted and discerned a black shape outside, she knew who her dark visitor was. Raphael, the San Francisco drifter. He was perched on the sill when she opened the window, his pale face contrasting with the color of his clothes, his night eyes glowing, his low voice laden with concern. “You’re crying.”

“Yes,” she whispered, in need of solace, unable to hide her misery.

He observed her without trying to enter. “I can’t come in unless invited.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry. Come on in, Raphael.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t leap inside. He didn’t jump. He didn’t drop. There was just an ever graceful motion, like a flowing, billowing blur. Then he stood before her, sheathing her in his protective embrace.

She had no more tears to shed so she clung to him, pressing her face in the crook of his robust shoulder, holding on to the dear comfort of his arms. Throes of anguish subduing her mind and body, she shook helplessly while he held her tightly until the tremors ceased.

Somehow, she found her voice again. “I’m so glad you came, Raphael.”