“Mama!” Washington ran through the front door of the Treasure Trove a little over a week later, his father locking the door behind them before trailing after in a more leisurely fashion.
Cat whisked the boy up and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. “Did you have fun at the park?”
“Yes!” He hugged her tightly around the neck but then wriggled his way down from her arms and raced back to Ben. “Dada, I’m hungry. I have a snack?”
“How about supper instead?”
“Yay!” Wash charged up the stairs, not even looking behind to see if his father was following.
“You ladies okay here?” Ben asked.
“Yes, go—you know that boy when he’s hungry!” Cat waved her husband off, and he gave her a salute before taking the steps two at a time.
Turning to Amara, Cat let out a big sigh. “I wish Wash didn’t have to be with someone else all week. But I can’t watch him and run the bookstore. At least he loves Mrs. Postupak.”
“And you, him.” Amara twisted her mouth into a rueful grin. “I did not have such a close relationship with my parents. As a child, I spent my time with my nurse and nanny.”
Cat half-chuckled, half-sniffled at that. “I don’t know if that makes me feel less guilty, or just sad.”
“We do that to which we are accustomed. Eliza is very involved with baby Rose, though. She won’t hear of a wet nurse and has insisted the baby be across the hall from her chambers, rather than in the nursery.”
Cat’s eyes moistened. “Thank you for speaking of Eliza in the present tense. I miss her so much.”
Both women glanced at Eliza’s portrait over the fireplace. The blonde beauty’s ever-present smile and joyful blue eyes soothed Amara.
Blue eyes brought unwelcomed thoughts of Matthew. Mr. Goodson. He hadn’t contacted her since the morning he’d returned her here. As far as she knew, he’d not spoken with Cat, either. He’d even canceled last week’s Sunday meeting with Ben.
Was he avoiding her? As if you merit that much consideration.
Clearly, she’d been but a momentary distraction for Mr. Goodson. It bothered her that he was proving harder to forget. Would he show up this evening? It was Sunday again, after all.
Amara shook her head, determined to dislodge any thoughts of Matthew Goodson. She walked behind the large oak desk, anxious to see the photographs flashing across the register’s computer screen.
Earlier in the week, Ben had transferred the pictures from Eliza’s phone to the computer, to enlarge them. Amara viewed them daily and spent much time telling Cat stories of her family.
One photo showed Eliza with Deveric. A second showed them with baby Rose. And Amara.
“Eliza wanted everyone in the photograph,” Amara had said, “but reasoned she could not explain the machine. I was the only one, besides Deveric, who knew her truth.” She bit the inside of her cheek, willing the stinging behind her eyes to dissipate. “At least she captured that painting of our family when no one was looking. I can still see my family. For that, I am grateful.” She’d pointed out her mother, Grace, Emmeline, Cecilia, and Becca. Chance and Frederick.
As the portrait flashed up on the screen again—a screensaver, Ben called it—Amara’s fingers hovered over their faces. Oh, how she missed them.
She’d busied herself the past few days talking with Cat, reading, exploring the immediate area on foot, and with completing her application for admission to the University—UVA, as everyone called it, pleased she’d managed it without Mr. Goodson’s help—and only a little from Ben. She was grateful for Eliza’s far-sightedness in arranging for a set of official school records to be included among the documents sent to her. The dishonesty troubled her; the records obviously weren’t authentic. But what could she do? Explain to University officials she had no such papers—transcripts—because a governess and tutor had schooled her?
“What if the University does not accept me?” Amara suddenly exclaimed, panic in her voice. She’d practically been having fits of the vapors since sending off the application yesterday, even though she likely wouldn’t hear of the decision for months. She wanted this so badly.
Footfalls sounded on the steps, and Ben’s voice echoed in the room. “One doesn’t have to go to college to get a good education, you know.”
Cat burst out laughing as she looked up at her husband, who carried Wash in his arms. “That from a professor?”
“It’s true.” He set Wash down before continuing. “If you’re driven, you can teach yourself. Libraries often carry college textbooks and numerous other educational materials. Many colleges and universities even offer free courses online now.”
Amara’s face lit up. “Indeed? Oh, I should like to try one. Though my dream is to attend a true university, as that was a privilege denied to the women of my era.”
“Well, UVA’s a pretty big one. You could always choose something smaller.”
Amara crinkled her nose. No, UVA was where she wished to learn. She’d walked the University’s grounds nearly every day this week, enjoying the sense of home it stirred. Surely there was a way to make it happen.
An idea hit her. “Can you amend my story so I am already a student?”
Cat shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. I’ve tried. I can create potential love connections, but that’s it.”
Disappointment dragged down Amara’s shoulders as a knock sounded at the door.
“That would be Matt.” Ben strode to the front of the store.
The name hit her in the chest like a blow. She’d fought the temptation to visit his place of work, to send a greeting. Matthew Goodson was a complication her already confusing life didn’t need. So why was her pulse racing, her eyes hungry for the sight of him?
How would he behave? Would he react to her, or would they be as strangers? Amara sucked in a breath, then feigned nonchalance as Cat cast her a questioning look.
The door swung open, and Matthew crossed the threshold, his hair and blue sweater wet with the mist permeating everything outside. He ran his hand over his head as he wiped his feet on the rug. Each movement called Amara to him. Her mouth watered as if presented with a feast after a long famine. Ridiculous. Still, she swallowed as he passed through the room. When his eyes fell on her, he stopped, and a smile broke out on his face.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey.” She offered the unfamiliar word in return, not sure what else to say.
“Well, don’t let me disturb you.” He gestured to the book Amara had forgotten she was holding, a biography of Ada Lovelace. Not that she’d chosen it because of Mr. Goodson and his cat. No, not at all.
“Ben and I will try to be quiet over here.” He turned his back to her and walked to the table on the other side of the room.
That was it? Disappointment unfurled in her midsection, but she did her best to hide it.
“I’m going to take Wash up for his bath. Amara, you’re welcome to stay here in front of the fire if you’d like. I certainly wouldn’t want to leave that cozy spot.” With a wink, Cat and the boy made for the stairs.
Amara probably should have followed her. She didn’t need to interrupt the men. Wash was likely to be loud, however—bath time seemed a favorite time for him to launch into raucous yelling—and she was quite comfortable here. Surely if she read, she wouldn’t bother them. She cast a quick glance toward Matthew. To her surprise, instead of sitting with his back to her, as she’d expected, he’d rounded the table and was seated where he had a direct view if he wanted one. Which apparently he did, as those icy blue eyes were fixed on her.
She gasped, and Ben, who’d settled in next to Matthew, looked up. “Everything okay?” He looked from Matthew to Amara.
“Absolutely,” Matthew said, his tone business-like. Breaking his gaze with Amara, he whipped open his laptop. “Now about those algorithms you’ve been testing regarding the security loophole in ... ”
Amara tuned the words out, though she peeked at the men once in a while. This was silly. She was making calf ’s eyes at Mr. Goodson like a love-struck girl, and he wasn’t paying her the least attention, completely focused on the work in front of him. She didn’t even want to be fixated on him.
Cat had said the attraction, while strong, was not insurmountable. Amara didn’t have to choose Matthew for anything just because Cat had written the two of them into a magical story. After all, when Cat had chosen her love, it hadn’t been any of the men about whom she’d written. She’d picked Ben, instead. And from watching them in the short time Amara’d been here, it was obvious Ben was Cat’s true love.
Amara gnawed on her cheek, pretending to be lost in her book when in reality she wasn’t absorbing a single word. If Matthew Goodson was her soul mate, was it wise to ignore that? Look at what happened with her brother and Eliza. Amara had never seen two people more in love, regardless of the bumps they’d hit on the road to get there. Should she pass up the opportunity of a love like that?
A groan escaped her lips, much to her mortification, and when Matthew’s eyes flew to hers her cheeks burned. Perhaps he’d attribute it to the fire.
She squirmed on the sofa seat. She was warm, but it had nothing to do with the flames behind her but more the sparks with the man across the room. Had it really only been two weeks since she’d arrived? Two weeks ago, she’d left behind everything she’d ever known. Two weeks ago, she’d traveled forward in time—in time!—to 2016. Two weeks ago, she’d kissed that man. And enjoyed it most thoroughly. She wanted to do it again.
She wanted to do it now.
She stood up, setting the book on the sofa. She’d put it away later; what she needed now was to escape. “Pardon me,” she whispered before running up the stairs and disappearing through the door at the top to the Matthew-free apartment within.
Matt’s eyes remained glued to the screen, but he was intensely aware of every movement Amara made. And she made a lot, her hands flipping pages too quickly to be reading them, her head turning toward him with amusing frequency. He’d had the strangest urge to plant a kiss on her the minute he came through the door, though he hadn’t seen her since a week ago Wednesday.
What was it about her? It’d taken all he had to settle himself in with Ben and pretend he didn’t care one whit about the woman across the room, didn’t wonder what she’d been up to. He’d told her to contact him if she needed anything. She hadn’t. He’d gotten the message.
On the other hand, technology baffled her. Had he misread her silence? Had she not known how to contact him, despite his instruction? He shook his head. Ludicrous. There was nothing between him and Amara Mattersley. She’d made that clear. Especially now that she’d darted up the stairs.
Away from him.
“You disagree?” Ben’s voice broke him out of his reverie. “I think students might like that type of seminar.”
“No, sorry, that wasn’t directed at you.”
Ben leveled a gaze at him over their laptops. “You could ask her out, you know.”
“What? Me? No. I’m not interested.”
Ben shrugged, though a smile teased at his lips. “If you say so.”
Matt tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. “Seriously, I’m not interested. I don’t have time to be interested, even if I were, which I’m not. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. She seems a little like a fish out of water.”
Ben muttered something under his breath, which to Matt sounded suspiciously like, “Understatement.” With a grin, he added, “Just saying, better to step up to the plate than wait. I nearly missed out on Cat because I didn’t make a move.”
Matt’s eyebrows rose. He’d never heard how the Coopers met. Not that he’d asked. Colleagues didn’t normally share such info. Did they?
Ben waved a hand. “Long story. Just remember: life is short. Prioritize what truly counts.”
“Like tenure?” Matt’s chuckle sounded more forced than he’d intended.
Ben didn’t laugh with him. “I’d be lying if I said that hadn’t been important to me or isn’t important to me now—but in some ways, I wished I’d let myself have more of a life earlier.” He took a sip from a mug near his elbow. “On the other hand, had I done that, maybe I would have missed Cat, too.” With a wink, he set the mug back down. “Some things are just fate, I guess.”
“Fate. Right.” Amara’s hazel-green eyes danced before him. He didn’t believe in fate. He believed in choices and hard work. That’s what brought results and success. Not chance. Not luck. Not anything as absurd as fate. Would fate be so cruel as to give a kid a dad who gambled away the family’s entire life savings and more, digging them into tremendous debt? Who left and never looked back, leaving behind six devastated kids and one furious wife?
And yet, some part of him wondered if he’d met Amara for a reason. Absurd. She’s your colleague’s relative who happened to get stuck in your apartment for two nights. That’s it. “Let’s get back to the seminar,” he said to change the subject.
Ben nodded, and the two fell into friendly but professional conversation about classes for the fall semester. The subject of women didn’t come up again. Though that didn’t mean Amara didn’t pop into Matt’s head. She did, with alarming frequency. His eyes occasionally drifted to the top of the stairs, though she didn’t return. Finally, after a frustrating hour in which he’d accomplished little, he stood up. “Guess we should call it a night.”
Ben rose, too. “Guess so. Wanna come up and say goodnight?”
Matt shook his head. “No need.” If only he believed it.