Only in Time: Mystique Antiques Novella

PROLOGUE

The tires on the old Chevy pickup squealed in protest as Jonah McCabe slid into a parking space. Ripping the seatbelt from its lock, he grabbed the slip of paper off the dash, scanning the words until he found what he wanted.

7:50 PM

He gripped the handle, pushing the door open. One last look at his wrist brought his eyes to his watch.

7:46 PM.

Damn. Time was almost up.

Slamming the door behind him, he raced toward the main doors of the train station. The scent of stale Old Spice lingered in the air when he entered.

He scanned the waiting area for a familiar face. One that made his heart catch every time he looked upon it.

A feminine voice echoed off the walls of the station from the PA system. The cheeriness in her voice knotted his gut, but not as bad as when she announced the final boarding call for New York.

Pushing his legs to move faster, he ignored the tightness in his chest. Time wasn’t a luxury. Never had been. Maybe one day, he would get his shit together. Take life a little more seriously.

He’d have no other choice if he didn’t make it in time to stop the train.

Weaving through the wooden benches, he searched for the boarding entrance. It wasn’t the easiest task. Recent passengers crowded the lobby, huddling with family and friends they’d been separated from for only God knows how long.

Other people were assembled at the ticket booth, making purchases and checking schedules. Just ahead, another crowd pushed into the building. Bold letters hung above the door with words he’d been anxious to see.

DEPARTURES.

The sign should have read, Last Chance at Happiness. Because that’s what waited on the other side of the door.

His last chance.

Forget stopping the train. He had to stop her.

As the seconds ticked away in his head, Jonah raced past the ticket counter, ready to curse anyone who tried to stop him from going outside. Luckily, no one did. He said a silent prayer as the cool metal handle greeted his hands. One hard push had the door opening.

The scent of diesel assaulted his nose as he stepped onto the cement pad. He searched for the train that should have been in front of him. Running to the edge of the platform, he stared at the empty tracks below, trying to tune out the metal squeaking in the distance.

Metal squeaking…? No!

The shrill sound of a whistle startled him as he turned just in time to see the end of the train pulling away.

“Hey,” he shouted. “Hey, stop!” Zipping past a crowd of onlookers, he made it to the end of the pad. But not soon enough to reach the train, though that didn’t stop him from protesting. “I need to get on that train! Please! I need to…”

His pleas fell on deaf ears. The only patrons remaining were those who’d seen off their family or friends. While a few shot him glares adorned with folded brows, most just ignored him.

He’d ignore himself, too, had the roles been reversed.

The one thing he couldn’t ignore…the ache in his chest. How it built near his heart, spreading like a deadly virus through his arms, legs, even his head. Everything ached. His lungs burned when he tried to take a breath.

As his hands fell to his sides, the slip of paper he’d been holding fell toward the ground. He didn’t bother catching it. He didn’t need it anymore. Everything he ever wanted just disappeared, along with the taillights of the train.

Wallowing in the pain, he wanted to make sure he never forgot how bad this hurt. To breathe. To think. To stand and watch his life go down the drain. That way he’d never make this same mistake, again. The mistake of giving his heart away to a woman. A woman who would never know how much he loved her. That he’d come to stop her. To give her the reason she’d been searching for.

Too bad time hadn’t been on his side. Would have been if he hadn’t—

Damn her mother.