A Husband in Time by MAGGIE SHAYNE

inside, he’d secretly wished for a modern woman. One who had her own opinions and lived as no man’s servant. Not a fainting, timid, helpless child, but a woman like…a woman like Jane Fortune.
    Not that he wanted any woman bound to him. Not even one like this. No, he’d learned his lessons too well for that. But just to know one. Just to be with her…
    â€œMaybe I’m modern from a nineteenth-century point of view, Zach,” she said. “But to a twentieth-century mind, I’m the one stuck in a time warp.”
    Zach drew in a breath, let it out slowly. “Tell me about…about Cody’s father.”
    Jane’s head came up quickly, her soft brows bending together. “No.”
    â€œI didn’t mean to pry, Jane. I was just wondering how such an old-fashioned girl managed to—”
    â€œI really should be working on the books,” she told him. “Why don’t you go back to the house and finish your breakfast?”
    He’d touched on a tender subject, then. All right.He told himself he wouldn’t ask again. Though, for some reason, he was dying to know about the man who’d fathered Jane Fortune’s child.
    â€œYes, I suppose I will,” he said. And he managed to take his eyes off her, turn and leave the shop.
    â€œWe have lunch at noon,” she told him as he started through the door.
    He nodded, and closed it behind him.
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    Jane had more customers that morning than she’d had since she’d opened the shop. A few of them even bought something. The rest, she was convinced, had come to see if they could catch a glimpse of the man Isabelle Curry had no doubt told them about. The man who was living in sin with an unmarried mother. Damn. It had been hard enough seeing the speculation in their eyes when she arrived here. Everyone wanted to know where her husband was. Most came right out and asked, though a few were subtler. She didn’t blame them for being curious. She’d moved into their close-knit, old-fashioned midst, and they wanted to know what kind of person she was.
    Lord, now they probably thought they did.
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    â€œI need a slate board,” Zach said.
    Cody tilted his head. “There’s one in the attic.”
    Zach’s head came up. He’d been muttering to himself, unaware of Cody’s presence in the room. He’d stationed himself at a small table in Cody’s bedroom. The tools he’d brought along with him lay scattered around him on the table. The device, too, was there. Its protective cover removed, and its insides exposed as he checked to be sure it hadn’t been damagedcoming through the portal. The leather-bound journal with his notes inside was open, and a newfangled ballpoint pen lay beside it. Zach had already filled three new pages with his account of his trip.
    â€œCody. Just the man I want to see.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œYes, indeed. I’m having some trouble with your modern vernacular. Tell me, son, what does it mean when a woman refers to a man as a, uh, hunk?”
    Cody grinned. “Means he’s handsome.”
    Zach felt his brows lift in surprise. “Handsome?”
    â€œVerrrry handsome,” Cody said. “Did my mom call you a hunk, Zach?”
    â€œEr…no. No, of course not. I read it in a book, actually.”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    Zach actually felt his face heat. So Jane found him to be…handsome. Verrrry handsome. It wasn’t such a major revelation. And it certainly shouldn’t be this pleasing to have confirmation of what he’d already suspected. He cleared his throat. “You were telling me about the attic?” he prompted, in an effort to change the subject.
    â€œYeah,” Cody was saying. “There’s lots of neat stuff up there. A big safe, and some old furniture. But I don’t know why you need a chalkboard.”
    â€œAh, yes, my safe.” Zach frowned. No doubt everything in it