Yesterday's Magic (8 page)

The man was an idiot. But a good friend, too.
“Why thank you, Bart,” Jed said, forcing his voice high.

Bart grinned at him. “And you smell
especially sweet, like a new rose in a spring garden.”

Jed ducked his head. “Do go on, Mr.
Schneider.”

Bart’s chest puffed up. “You’d look
especially fetching if you were naked—”

The door of the jail flew open. Bella
Wainwright stood in the doorway, her cheeks pink, her long hair
wild from the wind. She stared at the two of them.

Jed pushed away from Bart so quickly that he
stumbled backwards and knocked his shin on the wheel of his chair.
Even through his boot, it hurt.

“Why, hello, Mrs. Wainwright,” Bart said
agreeably, like they hadn’t been caught in a most unusual
situation.

“Just Bella,” she said. “I’m sorry,” she
added, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your…”

“Dancing,” Bart supplied.

She raised an eyebrow. Hers were dark and
finely shaped. “I see.”

He was going to kill Bart. Slowly. Painfully.
But first he needed to get rid of this woman. “What can I do for
you?” he asked, making sure she heard the impatience in his
voice.

“Practicing for tomorrow night?” she asked.
Her tone was cool.

He could smell her scent across the small
room. It was something spicy and rich and full of promise. But he
supposed he shouldn’t hold that against her. Anymore than he should
hold it against her that he’d been a fool and volunteered to take
her to the dance. He was just about to apologize when Bart stepped
forward.

“Jed don’t need no practice, Bella. He’s
a—”

“I’m sure she doesn’t have time to chat,
Bart,” Jed interrupted.

She frowned at him. “Aunt Freida thought you
might want this,” she said, holding up the shovel that she carried
in her left hand. “You know, she can smell snow a-coming.”

She’d done a better-than-fair imitation of
Freida with the last part. “I imagine she’s right,” he said. He
crossed the room and reached for the shovel.

Their fingers brushed. And he jerked his hand
back. The skin on her hands was warm, almost hot. It should have
been cold. The woman was a fool to be out without gloves.

He was a fool to care. He took a breath,
hoping to steady himself and was immediately sorry. Now he had her
scent in his lungs, where it would linger, and threaten to overtake
him.

He reached again, more careful this time to
grab only the handle. “Good day,” he said.
Go. Now. Before I do
something else foolish.

She didn’t move. “Aunt Freida wanted to know
if you could stop by the store later?” She raised a hand to her
head and twirled a lock of her hair around her first finger.

He looked at the floor. There was no need to
be looking at all that hair and wondering what it would feel like
to have a bunch of it wrapped around his hand. Or God forbid,
tickling his bare chest in bed.

“Well?” she prodded, like he was simple.

Oh hell. Any minute he’d prove her right. He
was acting like some old man who needed help remembering where he
was or how to get home. She had to go. Now. “I reckon I could,” he
said. And then, because he was feeling hot and bothered and more
than a little off center, he added, “I suppose there is some other
social obligation that I need to attend to?”

She narrowed her eyes. “There’s nothing
stopping you from changing your mind about the dance.”

“I don’t go back on my word,” he said.

She stared at him. “And I don’t like being
referred to as an obligation.”

He counted to ten. Twice. “Fine.”

She rubbed her hands together, like she was
rubbing off sand. “Great. Now can we talk about something
important? Aunt Freida thinks someone tried to break into the store
last night.”

“What?” He forgot about being irritated with
her.

“The back door was damaged. She found it when
she was putting away stock this morning. After you’d come and
gone.”

Bart raised a finger. “Jed, I’d be happy to
walk back with Bella and have a look-see.”

It would be easier to let Bart handle it. He
could wash his hands of this woman. For the time being anyway. But
Freida was his friend. And Mantosa was his town. He doubted that
someone had actually tried to break into the store—everybody in
town liked and respected Freida—but if his friend was worried, then
he’d go assure her it was nothing to fret about. “I’ll do it.”

He grabbed his coat and hat from where they
hung near the door and put them on. He opened the door and motioned
for Bella to go first. Once they were both outside, he closed the
door behind them. He turned to walk toward the Mercantile and she
turned the other direction.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

She frowned at him. “If you must know, I’m
spying on the competition.”

“What?”

“Aunt Freida wants me to check out the prices
at Saul’s.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why she even
worries about him. They don’t carry the same items. Freida carries
the things a person needs. Saul carries the things a person with
fancy notions might believe they want.”

“Well, it’s my mission and I’ve decided to
accept it.”

“What?” That was the oddest thing he’d heard
anyone say in some time.

“Never mind,” she said. “You should probably
get to Aunt Freida’s.”

“Oh, I will,” he said. And he intended
to—right after he shopped at Saul’s. He fell into step next to her.
“Who knows? Maybe Saul has something I can’t live without.”

They walked side by side, like a man and a
woman did when they were sweet on each other. He glanced at her to
see if she saw it as odd or too forward, but she didn’t seem to be
bothered.

She didn’t say anything about the cold but he
noticed that she slipped her hands in the pockets of her cloak. “I
believe Freida sells gloves,” he said.

She just raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t let
it go. “Most people enjoy wearing something on their head in this
kind of weather, too.”

No response this time.

“I think if we get much snow,” he said,
“those shoes of yours won’t do you much good.”

She stopped, so abruptly that he was two feet
ahead of her before he realized it. He turned around and his first
thought was that if Bart had been impressed with her flashing eyes
before, he’d probably expire from looking at her right now.

Lord, she was beautiful. And mad.

“I was just trying to be helpful,” he said,
knowing the comment was like heaping a log onto a dying fire—the
heat was going to increase and burn longer. But he couldn’t seem to
help himself. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d enjoyed goading
a woman but suddenly, it was like he couldn’t poke enough.

“Sheriff McNeil, you’re extraordinarily
helpful,” she said, her tone so polite that any fool could see that
what she really meant was
Sheriff McNeil, you’re like a burr
under a saddle.
“You protect the town and give fashion advice,”
she added. “How very…useful.”

He wanted to laugh and that startled him. He
was not the type who went on about nothing with a woman and then
laughed at his own stupidity. Before his tongue could get him in
more trouble, he settled for tipping his hat. “Think nothing of it,
Mrs. Wainwright.”

They continued on in silence and he assumed
she was grateful for that. When they reached Saul’s, she hesitated
for just a second as she scanned the merchandise that Saul had
sitting near the window. Her black eyes were bright, alert, and it
dawned on him that Bella Wainwright might not be woman to
underestimate.

She opened the door and a bell that was
rigged to the door jingled. She stepped inside. He followed. Saul’s
store was smaller than Freida’s and didn’t carry nearly as much
merchandise. That made it easier to get around.

“I’m in the back,” a voice called out. Jed
recognized it as Saul’s. “I’ll be right there.”

Bella smiled. “Take your time,” she said.
“I’m in no hurry.”

She’d made it to every aisle but one before
Saul emerged from the back. He was a small, dark haired man who
never went without oil in his hair. His shirts were too bright for
Jed’s taste and he always smelled of spicy foods. He’d arrived in
Mantosa without a wife or children but he hadn’t caused any
trouble.

“Morning, Saul,” Jed said. Across the store,
he saw Bella fold the paper she’d been making notes on and slip it
into the pocket of her cloak.

“Sheriff,” Saul said. He looked pleased to
have him in the store and Jed felt sorry about his part of the
ruse. Granted, Freida was his friend but as sheriff, he had a
responsibility to all the merchants in Mantosa.

“What can I interest you in this morning?”
Saul asked.

Jedidiah picked up the closest thing. It was
a small wooden box, with a glass top. He didn’t realize it was a
music box until he sat it down on the counter. “I’ll take
this.”

“Oh, that’s an excellent choice.” Saul turned
the box over and wound the small crank. Music began and Saul closed
his eyes and took a deep breath. “Beautiful. Do you know it?”

Jed shook his head.

Bella took a couple steps toward them. “The
Blue Danube,” she said. Her voice had a catch in it and Jed
wondered if she was feeling badly about coming to Saul’s.

Saul beamed. “Yes. Yes, indeed. It’s a new
piece by Johann Straus.” Saul hummed along for a few notes and then
glanced in Bella’s direction. “Have you studied music?”

She shook her head. “No. This piece was…uh…is
one of my mother’s favorites.”

Saul wrote out the receipt. “It’s eight
dollars, Sheriff.”

Jed pulled the money out of his pocket. He
hadn’t expected this little venture to cost him a week’s worth of
pay.

“What can I assist you with, Miss?” Saul
asked.

“Nothing today, thank you,” Bella said. She
smiled at Saul, turned, and walked out the door. Jed followed her,
carrying the music box in his hand.

Once they were several feet from Saul’s door,
he turned towards Bella. “Well?” he asked. “Did you accomplish what
you set out to?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Aunt Freida has so
much stuff in her store that I probably only saw a fraction of it
this morning. I looked for similar things at Saul’s and wrote down
the prices. He really has some lovely things.” She looked at the
music box. “May I?” she asked.

He handed her the music box. She wound the
crank and the music began. Bella had a faraway look in her eyes, as
if she were imagining that she was suddenly somewhere other than
Mantosa. She walked and he accompanied her in silence. When the
music ended, they were just steps from the Mercantile.

“Thank you,” she said. “I hadn’t heard that
in a long time.” She handed him back the music box. “It’ll probably
come in handy the next time you and Bart decide to dance.”

Even though it was cold outside, he could
feel heat flood his face. She was teasing him. It made him realize
that it had been a long time since somebody had teased him.

“I imagine it will,” he said. He tucked it
into the pocket of his coat. It wouldn’t do for the townspeople to
see the sheriff carrying a music box around with him in the middle
of the day.

When they entered the Mercantile, Jed walked
directly to the back of the store. He expected Bella to follow him
but when Freida joined him, he realized that Bella had taken over
waiting on the customers at the counter.

The door didn’t show any damage from the
inside but once they opened it and stepped through the doorway, it
was easy to see that someone had done a fair job of trying to pry
the door open. The wood frame was bent and splintered. Fortunately,
Freida’s sturdy lock had held. He looked at the ground. The morning
sun had melted the snow that had fallen during the night so there
were no footprints to examine.

He felt bad about his earlier inclination to
dismiss Freida’s concern. He was angry too. Freida went out of her
way to help people, many times giving them credit when she had no
business doing so. “Any idea who might have an interest in getting
inside your building?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I did tell Warren
Partridge to clean up before he came in again. The old fool
smelled; he stood next to Vera May and her knees buckled. She
practically cracked her head on my candy case.”

Warren Partridge was close to seventy and
given that the man barely weighed a hundred pounds, it didn’t seem
likely that he’d have wielded this much damage with a crow bar. But
Jed would have a conversation with the man, just in case. “If you
think of anybody else, let me know,” he said. “Bart and I’ll keep
an eye out when we’re doing our night rounds.”

Freida reached into her skirt pocket. “I’ve
got an extra key here, Jedidiah. Why don’t you keep it? Then, if
for some reason, you need to check inside the store, you’ll be able
to get in.”

He took the key and dropped it into his vest
pocket. “It’s probably dark at night when you’re leaving. You
should go out the front door,” he added. “And…uh…tell your niece to
do the same.”

“She’s really lovely, isn’t she?” Freida
asked. “I have to admit, I never thought any of Herbert’s family
was all that attractive.”

“She’s got a lot of hair,” Jed said.

Freida nodded. “Ain’t that something? And she
just wads it all up and puts a rubber band around it, like that’s
supposed to be some style. Didn’t even put it in a braid or
nothing.”

“We sort of had words,” Jed admitted, digging
the toe of his boot into the wet dirt.

“About?”

“I said something that made her think I
wasn’t happy about going to the dance tomorrow night.”

“You don’t have to take her,” Freida
said.

“I want you to go,” Jed said. “I didn’t know
about you and Thomas but now that I do, I sure as hell don’t want
to be the reason the two of you can’t spend a Saturday night
together. He’s a good man, Freida. You could do worse.”