Page 25 of The Spinster & the Sock

I’m smiling like an idiot as I walk into the modiste, one perfectly cut post in each hand, a bag of tools slung over my shoulder and Jo’s coin purse, no less empty, in my pocket.

“Honey, I’m home!” I holler, then cringe. I probably should have checked to see if anyone else was in here before yelling.

“There you are!” Jo exhales in relief, jogging from the back room. “What took you so long? I was starting to worry something happened.”

I hold up the posts, grinning from ear to ear. “I got some hard wood for you.”

She just blinks at me.

I deflate slightly. “Josephine, darling, I wish you understood my dick jokes.”

“Maybe you can start explaining them to me?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “First off, who is Dick?”

I shake my head and laugh. “Later, wife. I have good news,” I say, digging the coin purse from my pocket and handing it to her.

“It feels as though you didn’t spend any of it.” She squints at me.

“Because I didn’t.” I smile broadly, straightening to my full height.

“Blaze Lynyrd Hollows, did you steal that wood?” she gasps.

“No!” I frown. “Do you really think I would rob poor Alby? I got a job and I start tomorrow.” I guide her upstairs as I explain the details of mine and Albion’s agreement: I’ll work off the cost of the oak and the bag of simple tools, and then he’ll pay me a weekly wage.

“Why on earth would you find employment?”

“Listen, I’ve been going crazy cooped up in here—no offense—and I have a little workshop back home, so it’s no different than something I would do anyway. With me living here, it’s twice—thrice—the food, you’re clothing me and funding all of these absurd attempts to get me home…let me bring in some income. I want to take some of the burden off your shoulders and honestly, I want to do this for me too.” After a silent moment, Jo surprises me by agreeing.

Jo pretends to read where she sits on my chaise, and I pretend not to notice while I repair the bed. It seems she’s just learned it’s a straight shot from there to here—perfect eyeline from where we both slept—but of course that’s not news to me.

I finally set down my tools and drag myself over to flop down opposite her. “That should hold well enough, but to be safe, maybe don’t go jumping on it.”

“Well, there goes my evening plans.” She sighs dramatically, leaning on the arm of the seat and stretching her legs out before putting her feet in my lap. I don’t even realize I’ve grabbed and started rubbing her soles until she groans. “On second thought, this is better. No jumping.”

I laugh and lean my head against the wall, the short back of the lounge chair not exactly accommodating for this type of lounging.

“Will you tell me about your time?” she asks a few minutes later. I open my eyes, not even sure when I had shut them. The book she was reading is closed in her lap, and she’s studying me.

“I’ll tell you anything, Jo. What do you want to know?”

Crop Dust The Congregation

Josephine

Any insufferable rake could have been chosen to scale the impossible barrier of two hundred and twelve years.

He could have been far too old; he could have been ugly; or he could have had the personality of a stale piece of bread.

He could have been mean and wicked and small-minded.

But an awful man wasn’t who fell through time, knocking me off my feet. For good, it would seem.

Blaze did. And as I sit here, warm and comfortable and…safe…against him now, I hate that he’s the one that came. I need to scream into the heavens and ask what cruel sense of humor would send me this man.

For when he leaves, I am certain I shall be irreparably changed and further disgraced from society.

I manage to have this horribly depressing train of thought all while snuggled comfortably in the chaise, book in hand, with his big hands on my feet, massaging the tension from them. He says he will tell me anything, but there is so much I want to learn, and I struggle to find the right words to ask. Or maybe I don’t exactly grasp what I’m hoping to accomplish by knowing specific details about a future which occurs decades after I die. I wish to understand what his time is like, but why? Whatever 2025 turns out to be, it has created this strange man who I can’t help but need to know deeper.

Blaze notices my silence, and his warm hand tightens around my heel, his eyes searching mine. “What are you afraid of?”