“No!” Stella yelled at him, cringing at the shrill tone of her voice. She looked sheepishly at Mr. Darcy. “You’re exactly as I imagined you’d be, but this is ridiculous, right? Arnie might have put this party together, but I’m ending it.”
Jack stepped toward her, and she temporarily lost her grip on her anger. “You’re upset. You and Arnie are close, and you’re scared and confused, and I know this sounds cockeyed.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “IamJack Henry Mathis. I have no reason to lie to you, Stella.”
His words resonated in her chest, flowed through her like steaming coffee, warming her all the way to her toes. He pulled his other hand out of his pocket, and three words, pastel pink and fluttery, drifted out as though caught on a breeze and floated straight toward her.You. Me. Please.Stella watched the words as they coasted toward her. Without thinking about what she was doing, she opened her hands. The words landed on her palms and melted into her skin, leaving behind an imprint of warmth.
“Jack Mathis is from a book, one of my dad’s favorites,” Stella babbled. “It’s impossible. People don’t walk out of books. Who would believe that? Sure, what book nerd hasn’t dreamed about a fictional boyfriend being real or seeing Mr. Darcy?”
Mr. Darcy’s shoulders straightened, and he inclined his head. “I cannot argue with her logic.”
Jack pointed toward a study table. “Perhaps you should sit down. Arnie didn’t want you to find out this way, but he’s been keeping secrets from you.”
Arniewaskeeping secrets. But why? Jack pulled out a chair, and Stella walked to the table and dropped into it, feeling the cold, unforgiving wood press against her bones. The back of her head throbbed.I wish I had an aspirin, a Pepsi, and a do-over for the past few days—no, years.
The French couple lingered near a bookshelf, watching her. Stella remembered all the French lessons she and Arnie had done together. She asked, “Parlez-vous français?”
The woman nodded, which loosened strands of dark hair from her braid. She smoothed her hands down her dress before wringing her hands together in front of her.
“Êtes-vous ici pour une fête?” Stella asked.
The woman glanced at the nobleman beside her. His shoulders stiffened, but he nodded as though encouraging the woman to answer. She replied, “Non.”
Jack sounded surprised when he said, “You speak French.”
Stella nodded. “And a few other languages. A fun thing Arnie and I have done together for years. He knows I love words.” She pressed her palms against the cold tabletop. “The French couple says they’re not here for a party. And they’re not the first strange characters—emphasis on the wordcharacters—I’ve seen roaming around the library.”
Jack sat on the edge of the table and looked at her. “You have an idea about what’s happening, don’t you?”
She glanced up at his handsome face, studying the lines of his eyes and mouth. “An idea that I’m not ready to accept.” Looking at him felt like a dream. In fact, the last few days were playing out like a strange waking dream sequence. Could this actually be happening?
“Go get the things for Arnie,” Jack said. “I’ll keep everyone down here in the archives tonight.”
Stella’s logical brain kicked in. She thought of the cash box, which held very little money, and the priceless antiques and artifacts in the archives. An image of the costumed strangers pilfering Blue Sky Valley’s precious history formed in her mind. She shook her head.
“I can’t leave people in the library. That’s against the rules.”
Jack touched her arm, and she stared at his fingers against her skin. She wanted to reach up and place her hand on his, just to feel his skin and see if her fingertips would tingle at the touch, to see if he was actually real.
“Lock us in. We’ll be fine.”
Shewantedto believe him, but what he was saying wasn’t reasonable. Arnie trusted her to be responsible with the library and its holdings, but he’d also told her to keep these people in the library. What if logic had nothing to do with what was going on? Could she sincerely be standingin the fleshwith her biggest crush? Her gaze drifted over Jack, taking in the real-life version of him.
Jack’s World War II uniform consisted of a drab olive-green, long-sleeve jacket with copper-colored buttons and two front pockets. A tan tie and matching olive-green shirt were tucked behind the jacket. Patches, pins, and stripes of color decorated the jacket, and if her dad had been there, he would have known what each itemrepresented. Stella, on the other hand, was completely distracted by his hazel eyes.
“You can trust me, Stella,” Jack said, interrupting her thoughts.
The weird part was, shedidfeel like she could trust him. “This is outrageous, but okay.”
When Jack smiled at her response, Stella’s lips parted. For years she had wondered what Jack Mathis looked like when he smiled; now she knew, which made her need to see it over and over again.
“Go see Arnie. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jack said, his words sounding like an enchantment in her ears.
Stella nodded. “I’m not locking you in the archives. That would be barbaric, but I’ll lock up the library like usual. I’m assuming you know how to get out if you need to, but just know you’ll set off the alarm if you open the outside doors.”
Jack nodded, repeating himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Stella left Jack and the others in the library, closing them up in the archives. Although this entire night felt like an out-of-body experience, an awareness of powerful magic hummed through her. The words had sent her to Arnie’s aid tonight. She had so many questions, but all she could handle was putting one foot in front of the other.
In the darkness, she crossed the lot between the library and Arnie’s cottage. Using her spare key, she let herself into his place. He would want a change of clothes—his own clothes—rather than the open-back gown and skid-proof socks that were the normal standard issue at the hospital.
