Across the Winds of Time (30 page)

“Sleep, my love,” he whispered.

I thought I’d lie awake all night, but I soon found myself drifting off to sleep with images of the dark curls and long skirts of a woman fluttering in the wind as she stood with her arms outspread like a bird’s near the oak trees on the hill that would soon become a cemetery.

****

My eyelids flew open to the sun streaming in through the window, and I jerked awake. I was alone. Darius was gone. Apparently, he had pulled the quilt over me in the night, though I didn’t remember it. I pushed the cover back and crawled from the bed. I didn’t have my watch with me, so I had no idea what time it was.

What I did know was that this was the day that Darius would come back to my time with me, and we would begin our new life. If the house was still there, if we didn’t travel to another time, if Sara hadn’t somehow buried an empty coffin for me on the hill, if...I swallowed hard and gave myself a shake. So many ifs...

I tiptoed to the door and listened. I could hear vague sounds in the house, but I wasn’t quite sure where they were coming from. The kitchen? Had Mrs. White returned?

I eased open the door and rushed across the hallway to the bathroom. It looked remarkably the same although I couldn’t find any faucets. A jug of warm water had been set by some kind soul on a table near the pedestal sink, and I assumed this was for me to wash with. I cleaned my face and looked at my expression in the oval mirror. Dark shadows made me look as tired as I felt. I spotted a hairbrush and ran it through my hair before using the facility. It seemed to work in much the same way, though I had to look for a pull string on the wall to make it work.

I stepped out of the bathroom, having given up on any hope of sneaking downstairs. The water running through the pipes had given me away.

“Molly?” Darius called from downstairs. His warm voice still sent shivers of excitement up my spine. “Are you finally awake?”

“Yes,” I answered quietly. Was Mrs. White down there, I wondered? I still hadn’t found any “proper” clothing to wear. What would she think?

He came around the corner and looked up at me. I saw that he no longer wore the denim shirt and jeans but wore a white shirt like I’d seen him in before, a gray vest and matching trousers. He looked stunning. No matter what he wore.

“Good morning, Molly.” He tilted his head boyishly as he grinned at me.

“Good morning,” I whispered shyly. We had, after all, spent the night together.

“Would you like some hot chocolate this morning? Mrs. White is cooking breakfast.”

“You’re back in your clothes,” I commented.

He looked down at his trousers with a rueful smile. “Yes, I am afraid my new clothing needs to be washed, so I donned some of my usual attire. I think it best I wear normal clothing when I go into town this morning.”

He pulled his pocket watch from his vest and looked at it.

“I must go now, but Mrs. White is here and she is anxious to meet you. Will you come into the kitchen and have some breakfast?”

“Yes,” I continued to speak quietly. “But what is she going to think about
my
clothing? We were supposed to put me in something.” I descended the stairs and met him at the foot. I longed to reach up on tiptoe and kiss him but dared not. I saw the same longing in his eyes.

He cleared his throat.

“I will think of something to say.”

“Does she know about James? Did she ever meet Molly?”

“Yes, she has heard the rumors. And yes, she knew Molly. They were extraordinarily fond of each other.”

I turned to look up at him with widened eyes.

“What am I supposed to say? Won’t she think I’m Molly risen from the dead?” How coarse that sounded. I winced.

Darius blinked, but his lips twisted in a smile.

“You and I will improvise. Just as we have done in your time,” he whispered.

“Okay,” I muttered. “Let’s do this,” I said, in the tone of a member of a military rescue operation. I sailed toward the kitchen, leaving Darius in my wake.

Mrs. White busied herself at the stove with what appeared to be pancakes, and despite my anxiety, my mouth watered. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Certainly not in this century.

Out of bravado and steam, I paused at the doorway uncertainly, and Darius came up behind me. He touched my shoulder quickly and lightly. He cleared his throat.

“Mrs. White, may I present Miss Sara Hamilton, Molly’s sister?”

At that, I turned to look at him in astonishment, but only for a second as Mrs. White turned from the stove and bustled up to me. She put out a plump hand, and I shook it.

“Well, Miss Sara, it’s so nice to meet you. I am so sorry to hear about your sister. Mr. Ferguson tells me that you are up here from one of the Southern states to visit her grave?” She dropped her gaze to my bare legs before pulling them back to my face with an effort.

I dared not look at Darius. What a concoction of convoluted lies! What a great imagination! I could never have come up with a story for my appearance...and my shorts.

“Yes, I did, thank you, Mrs. White.” I didn’t know how far to push it, but I tried. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“I knew Miss Molly had a sister, but I didn’t know that you lived in the South. What state are you from exactly?”

“Ummm...Florida,” I said quickly. Was Florida already a state in the 1880s? I should have paid more attention in American history, I thought.

“Oh, that
is
a long way from here, isn’t it? Did you travel by train?”

I looked up at Darius over my shoulder, cursing him with loving affection. He managed to keep a straight face, but seemed in no way inclined to help.

“Yes, by train.”

“All the way to Lilium. Imagine that,” Mrs. White said in wonder. “How many days did you have to travel?”

I really needed Darius’s help at the moment. I had no idea how long travel took in the nineteenth century.

“I think she said approximately a week, didn’t you, Sara?”

I nodded mutely.

Darius coughed.

“Well, ladies, I must go into town. I have promised Sara some of your special flapjacks, Mrs. White. I know she’ll enjoy them.” He ran a discreet finger along my back out of Mrs. White’s sight, and I longed to turn to him and beg him to stay, but I knew he had to go.

“See you later,” I mumbled toward his retreating back. To my embarrassment, a tear of anxiety and exhaustion slid down my face. I was hoping Mrs. White would miss it.

She didn’t.

“There, there, Miss Sara. Come sit down, and I’ll pour some of Mr. Ferguson’s hot chocolate for you. He says you like it. I know your sister did.”

Mrs. White led me to a well-polished round oak table nestled where my glass kitchen table sat. Five high-backed oak chairs were pushed up to the table, and Mrs. White pulled one back. She went to pour a cup of the chocolate, and I wondered how long Darius would be gone.

“Will you have some pancakes, dear?”

I nodded with enthusiasm. Mrs. White brought a lovely white and blue porcelain plate over to the table with several pancakes stacked in the middle. She poured a glass of obviously freshly squeezed orange juice and set it on the table along with silverware and a white linen napkin.

I stared at the food with admiration. The woman really could cook, I thought. I’d never imagined Darius as a porcelain plate kind of guy, which only served to remind me that there was a great deal I didn’t know about him yet.

“And here is some lovely syrup direct from the New England states. It’s wonderful.” She set down a small glass pitcher no bigger than a creamer.

“Won’t you sit and have some breakfast, Mrs. White?”

I probably sounded as pathetic as I felt, because I saw her hesitate.

“Well, Miss Sara, I’ve already eaten, but certainly I will sit with you.”

She poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down on the other side of the table. I gave her a small smile of gratitude and poured syrup on the pancakes.

“I understand your husband and children work here as well?” I prompted as an opening. I was sure she had questions for me, and I wasn’t sure I could come up with any credible answers, so I went on the offensive...so to speak.

She beamed. “Yes, they do. My daughter does some cleaning and laundry. And my husband and son take care of the yard, the farm and the animals. They’ve all done their chores and gone home for the day.” She looked out of the window. “Mr. Ferguson works with them during planting and harvesting season, but in between times, he works around the house.”

I scooped my first forkful of pancakes into my mouth and stilled for a moment as I savored their delicious light texture.

“Mrs. White! These are delicious. So light and fluffy.”

“Thank you, dear,” she beamed. “It’s an old family recipe. Mr. Ferguson loves them, so I made them special for him today.” Her face sobered and she shook her head. “He’s not been himself this last year. It was such a pleasure to see him smiling this morning and preparing his special hot chocolate.” She smiled at me brightly.

I supposed I should ask.

“You know that a man named James was here yesterday.”

She bit her lip and looked down at her lap.

“Yes, I know. The whole town knows by now. He’s told them that you are Molly, that she didn’t die after all, and that his brother was wrongly hanged down in Council Bluffs for her murder.”

I stopped eating. Chills ran down my arms.

“Mr. Ferguson has gone to talk to the sheriff again, hoping to pass the word along that the woman James saw yesterday was you, Molly’s sister.” She looked at me with a kindly expression, but I thought I saw a note of skepticism in her eyes.

“We look almost exactly alike,” I murmured as I stuffed some pancake in my mouth.

“Yes, the resemblance is remarkable.”

“People used to mistake us for twins,” I added.

“I certainly would think so,” she agreed.

“How are your parents, Miss Sara? We haven’t heard from them since they left after the funeral.”

“Ahh...well, I believe my parents have traveled west,” I murmured. Shouldn’t I know that? “At least, they wrote to me and told me that’s where they wanted to go.”

“I wished they had left earlier and taken Miss Molly with them.” Her face almost seemed to crumple, and I could see that she was very attached to Molly.

“Things were very difficult for her around here, Miss Sara, with that Jack threatening her and Darius.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I heard that even your father decided Jack would be a dreadful husband for her, and he told James’s father that any plans they had in the past were over.”

“Really?” I mumbled, trying to tread lightly in case I made a mistake. “I’m pleased to hear my father came to his senses finally.” I took a final bite of pancake and gave up. My heart ached for Darius and for poor Molly.

I rose from my chair, and Mrs. White stood.

“Thank you so much for breakfast, Mrs. White. I think I’ll take a walk now.”

“You’re welcome, dear. I’m glad you liked the pancakes.” She picked up the plate and glasses and shooed me away when I tried to help. “Take your walk now. You look so pale. The sun will do you good.”

I nodded and turned toward the kitchen door.

“Miss Sara.”

I turned back to Mrs. White, whose cheeks took on a rosy hue.

“I think perhaps the clothing in the South is a bit more...brief...than we are used to here in the north.” Her gaze flickered to my shorts. “I think it might be best if you didn’t try to go into town or anything until Mr. Ferguson finds your luggage. He said it was lost on the journey here?” she said with a lift of her eyebrows.

“Yes, that’s right, Mrs. White. I lost it.” How true those words were in modern day vernacular. I nodded with an effort at a grin. “I’ll stay out of sight.”

“I won’t see you when you get back, Miss Sara...not until tomorrow. Mr. Ferguson said he won’t need me any more today, so I’m just going to tidy up the kitchen dishes and go home,” Mrs. White said.

I had my hand on the door when she spoke, and I turned to look at her. Little did Mrs. White know, but I would never see her again. Never. I bit my lip at the thought that someone would live and die in the time it took me to travel back to the twenty-first century.

I moved to where she stood by the sink and gave her an impulsive hug. I could feel her body stiffen for a moment before she wrapped her arms around me and patted my back soothingly.

“There, there, now, dear. What’s this all about?” Mrs. White murmured. “You’re upset about your sister, I know.” She made consoling clucking noises as she returned my embrace.

I pulled away from her and dipped my head in some embarrassment at the unwarranted display of warmth for a virtual stranger. Although she would never know I was saying goodbye for a lifetime, I knew it was the last time I would see her. I wasn’t quite sure whether Mrs. White would stay and take care of the house for Darius’s brother, but I was sorry she could not return with us.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. White.” I blushed. “I think I am a little bit...distraught. Thank you for letting me hang on you.” I managed a slight grin.

“Oh, pooh! ‘Hang on me’ indeed. What an expression!” She chuckled. “There’s no reason why we can’t offer each other a little comfort in our times of need.” She patted me on the shoulder. “Now, go for your walk. It will do you a world of good.”

I smiled once again and went out the door with a backward glance over my shoulder to see that she was washing dishes. I stood on the porch for a moment, wondering what to do. I supposed I could walk up to the cemetery. I crossed the lawn and started up the path. The climb didn’t take long, and I came through the trees and emerged into the meadow on top of the hill.

Even though I had seen it only a few hours before, albeit at dusk, the unfettered expanse of the field with only a few tombstones caught me by surprise. Long feathery grass drifted lazily in the wind while the small oak saplings rustled with just a promise of the majestic shade trees they would become.

I strolled along to my favorite spot on the far edge of the meadow, giving Molly’s stone a pat and a good morning, as I passed. I faced the wind coming off the valley and raised my arms—as I had done only days before—truly wishing I could fly away.