by Cathy Peper
They took a room in one of the newer homes, built in the American style. Their hostess was a cheerful woman who made a fuss over Hannah and didn’t question their marital status.
The Fury, repaired and gleaming, had arrived the previous day, so once they had unpacked, they went in search of Sebastien and Tori. They found Sebastien on his boat. He and Tori had also taken a room on shore, and Tori was there now, resting. They arranged to meet for dinner at the tavern.
While Bryce met with some of the city’s merchants, bringing them a handful of items they had ordered from New Orleans, Ari and Hannah walked out to where their house would one day stand. There was nothing there now but brush, trees and the occasional squirrel running through the bare branches before returning to the warmth of its nest.
“Where’s our house? Why is Ste. Genevieve so different now?” Hannah asked.
Ari sighed. “Remember what we told you? This is the past. My necklace brought us here. Our house and most of the buildings in Ste. Genevieve that we are familiar with have not been built yet. There is no TV in this world, no computers, no Internet, no phones. There is no heating, except by fire, no air conditioning, not even electric lights. Even after we move into our new house, it will still be more like camping than the life you’re used to.”
“We’re not going home, are we?”
“No. The necklace is gone. We have no way to go back. But we’re together and we have Daddy now. We even have Uncle Sebastien and Aunt Tori. There are other, more distant relatives in St. Louis and you even have an uncle, younger than yourself, who might come out to visit.”
“How can my uncle be younger than me?”
“Your grandfather is married to a younger woman and she has a son a little younger than you.”
Hannah seemed intrigued by the idea of a young uncle to play with, but her little face was scrunched up as if she was trying not to cry. “I’ll never see my friends again.”
Ari’s heart ached. “You will make new friends.” But would she? Would this twenty-first century little girl fit in with her nineteenth-century counterparts? Children were resilient. She would adjust.
Hannah kicked at a rock but didn’t argue. She followed her mother back to town and was busy playing checkers with their hostess, who had agreed to watch her, when Ari and Bryce left for the tavern.
Tori looked better than she had the last time Ari had seen her. She confided in a whisper that her pregnancy no longer seemed in danger. If she was disappointed at losing her opportunity to return to the future, she didn’t show it. Of course, she had already made the decision once before to stay with Sebastien.
They ordered bowls of stew and tankards of ale, although Tori drank water. The waitress brought a loaf of fresh bread, still steaming from the oven, along with their stew. Ari slathered butter on a piece and chewed slowly. Bliss.
“If you don’t mind, we would like to make it a double wedding,” Bryce said.
“That’s a great idea,” Tori said.
“I think it’s four years too late.” Tori punched him in the arm and Sebastien grunted. “But we would be pleased to have you join us in exchanging our vows.”
“Have you already made arrangements?”
“Father Andre has agreed to marry us tomorrow. I don’t see why he wouldn’t marry you as well,” Sebastien said. “Granted, he was less than pleased that Victoria has been living with me on the Fury and he will be even stodgier about Hannah, but I don’t think he will refuse to perform the ceremony.”
Ari’s chest tightened. She had forgotten that even after she and Bryce married, technically Hannah would still be considered a bastard. The stigma would be lessened by the marriage, but it would still exist. Fortunately, such things were less important on the frontier.
The warm touch of Bryce’s hand on her knee brought her back to the conversation which had moved on to wedding clothes. Tori was going to wear a dress she had bought in New Orleans. Ari would wear the best of her tour guide clothes. “I suppose it will be impossible to get flowers this time of year,” she said, missing the luxury of a flower shop that carried blooms all year long.
“Unfortunately,” Tori said, frowning.
“It’s not important.” Ari poured herself another glass of ale. “All that matters is that we marry the men we love.”
“Here, here.” Tori raised her glass of water. “To us.”
They all clinked glasses, the sound cheerful in the smoky rumble of the tavern. In one day, Ari would finally be Mrs. Poole.
Chapter 28
The church where they were to be married was not the rosy red brick structure Tori had visited in the future. This church was plain, made of wood, and dark inside, just as it had been the day Sebastien first brought her to Father Andre. He’d hoped the priest could find someplace for her to stay. Tori had feigned memory loss at the time, not wanting to tell people she had somehow traveled from the future. She’d feared they would think her crazy and lock her up in some sort of horrifying nineteenth-century insane asylum.
Almost everyone of importance now knew the truth—Sebastien and of course Ari and Bryce. Even little Hannah had an inkling of understanding. Only Roger, who had agreed to give the brides away, was still in the dark, although he must wonder at Ari’s reappearance and Tori’s unusual behavior. Always a gentleman, however, he didn’t ask.
When Ari and Bryce had appeared, bringing the necklace back into her sphere, and suggesting they all travel together to the twenty-first century, she’d been tempted. She could admit it to herself, if not to Sebastien. Marriage in a modern church or even the courthouse steps had seemed preferable to this primitive chapel. But now, standing next to Ari at the foot of the aisle, gazing at the two men waiting with the priest for them at the altar, she refused to allow herself to be haunted by what might have been. Sebastien meant more to her than the comforts of the future, where she had never really seemed to fit in. She would continue to teach violin here, but in an age where teachers were supposed to be strict, not one where she could be fired for telling a child’s parents he didn’t practice. And she would spend her life with Sebastien, an honorable man who loved her.
Ari looked happy even though Tori outshone her in her New Orleans finery. They both carried silk roses commandeered by Bryce from a millinery shop. So they had their flowers even though it was winter. Hannah stood behind them carrying a bough of evergreens. Father Andre had nearly forbidden her to attend but had at last been persuaded, no doubt by a generous donation from Bryce.
An elderly woman played the harpsichord in a corner of the room. Candles flickered at the head of each roughly hewn pew. The crews of both the Fury and the Revenge filled most of the seats, but she was touched that May, the young nurse who had cared for her during her previous visit to Ste. Genevieve, had also come.
Ari walked down the aisle first, being the eldest. Tori followed and Hannah trailed in the rear. Sebastien smiled at her and her heartbeat sped up. He looked dashing in his bright red shirt and dark breeches. His deep blue eyes were filled with tenderness and he had gone to the barber to have his hair trimmed and his beard removed since she preferred him clean-shaven.
Bryce looked handsome too, though he could never match Sebastien’s good looks in her opinion. He had opted to forgo the typical attire of a riverman and was dressed in a black coat and breeches, his shirt a startling white. Tori had feared that Ari might look a tad shabby beside him, but when she saw the glances they gave one another, her misgivings fled. Bryce looked at her as if she were a precious jewel despite the fact that Ari’s glance held a hint of vulnerability as if she had never really believed this day would come.
Tori could relate. Sebastien had nearly broken her heart when he asked her to be his mistress and she had been so angry she would never have believed she would forgive him enough to marry him even if he asked for her hand. But when she had seen him shot and bleeding on the ground, her anger had vanished in a wave of overwhelming panic. She had known then that she would stay with him,
no matter what.
She turned her attention to Father Andre as he began speaking. They each recited their vows in turn. The scent of incense hung in the air, mixing with the earthy scent of log walls. Not even the light of the myriad candles could disperse the church’s gloom, but instead of being dizzy with fever, as she had been the first time she entered this church, she was radiant with joy and not even Father Andre’s stern expression could shatter her composure. She stood here, with the man she loved and her best friend. The earthquakes were over and eventually, the ground would stop shaking. The necklace, and the temptation it offered, was gone. It was time to move forward.
* * *
Ari had expected to marry in the St. Louis church when she was young and then, after being transported to the twenty-first century, wondered if she would marry at all. Although this version of the church was far different than the one she had attended for the last few years, it wasn’t that different from the church in St. Louis, which was also made of logs.
She recalled from her training as a tour guide, that the Ste. Genevieve church where she now stood had been moved from a previous location due to flooding. It would be rebuilt in stone, then later in brick, finally being enlarged early in the twentieth century to its current state.
So, she wasn’t disappointed in the simplicity of the church, although Tori might well be. But, had she married in St. Louis, her relatives would have filled the pews instead of a group of hardy men. However, the men had cheered when the priest finally allowed the couples to kiss and she found herself touched by their raucous response, which earned them a glare from Father Andre.
As they exited the church, Ari blinked her eyes in the bright sunshine. It was a fine day for early March, sunny and mild. Hannah had been excited to be part of her parents’ wedding, but now she tossed her evergreen bough aside and huddled close to her mother, looking rather bored.
“They’ve prepared a special luncheon for us at the tavern,” Ari told her. “I think they might even have cake.”
Hannah brightened at the prospect. They had run out of their supply of twenty-first-century food and Hannah was having a difficult time adjusting. Ari was, too, if she was honest, but once they were settled in their own home she would be free to experiment with herbs and spices, livening up their rather bland diet.
Bryce took her arm and Ari gazed up at him. He looked so handsome in his tailored clothes, almost like the man she had first fallen in love with. His body was leaner and harder, though, just as hers was softer and more womanly. They had both suffered loss and hardship, believing the other lost to them forever. That they were together again was a miracle and it seemed somehow right that they were back in their own time, despite the convenience and opportunity the future offered. Bryce would continue to search for the necklace, but he had promised her not to obsess and she no longer doubted his word.
Both couples were to travel to St. Louis where they would settle. Sebastien planned to continue in the keelboat business as long as it was viable, but Bryce would open a shop, sourcing western products for his father and selling eastern luxuries to the residents of St. Louis. She and Tori had also recommended he be prepared to supply goods to those moving even farther west.
“Happy?” he asked.
“Very.”
Following Tori and Sebastien, they headed towards the tavern holding hands with Hannah in the middle. Finally, they were the family they had always been meant to be. And although she had no desire to use the defibrillator, stored in Bryce’s sea chest on the Revenge, she hoped that someday she would wear the deep blue stone, nestled in delicate silver filigree, again.
They reached the tavern and Bryce held the door for her and Hannah. A table filled with meats, cheeses, loaves of bread and even a cake, stood in one corner. Tori and Sebastien were already filling their plates. Hannah darted forward when she saw the cake.
“Can I have a piece?”
Ari started to say she could have one for dessert but stopped. “Sure.” She cut a big slice for her daughter and Hannah wandered off to sit by Tori. There, now she was worse than any of her twenty-first-century friends whose lax parenting styles had sometimes driven her crazy. But it wasn’t a day for rules. It was a day for eating dessert first. Laughing, she cut herself a piece, too.
Epilogue
Emory Frost was the best man Gordon had on his payroll. But he wasn’t the only one. And for something as valuable as the crystal blue necklace, Gordon needed a backup plan. So when he sent Frost to steal the necklace, he sent someone else, to follow Frost.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Frost. He didn’t trust anyone. Frost was too in awe of Gordon’s powerful reach to risk betraying him, but temptation cast a strong spell, one Gordon knew all too well. Any item valuable enough to kill for, Gordon wanted in his own arsenal. And he didn’t believe for a minute that Bryce was ignorant of its secrets. Bryce wanted the stone, though he was willing to relinquish it for love of the woman or the child. He had taught the boy better, but Bryce was weak. Women could be replaced and more children born. He’d done it himself, getting another heir when he believed Bryce to be dead.
He quashed the thought of Olivia and the allowances he’d made for her. He was fond of her; what man wouldn’t treasure a wife young enough to be his daughter? But there were plenty of other young women and he was rich enough to buy any of them. Giving in to Olivia’s whims now and then didn’t mean she had any hold over him.
Gordon drained his drink and rose from his chair. He hated waiting. Frost would succeed, he thought as he paced the length of the cabin. Since the man produced results, he was allowed flexibility in his execution. Gordon didn’t know whether Frost would attack Bryce on his way to the ransom drop or allow the exchange to take place and then follow the voodoo couple and steal the necklace from them later. His instructions were clear—he was to get the necklace, but avoid killing Bryce. If necessary, he might even be called upon to protect Bryce. Although Gordon now had a spare, he wasn’t willing to lose his primary heir. An illegitimate granddaughter he was willing to sacrifice, but if the girl survived, too, all the better.
However, the most important thing was the necklace. Frost had never let him down. Still, it never hurt to be careful.
Gordon left the cabin and found his captain on the roof, guiding the boat. The man hadn’t wanted to move at night. The Mississippi was full of debris at the best of times and since the earthquakes, it had become increasingly difficult to navigate. Banks had collapsed, dragging trees into the river. New channels had been created and old ones disappeared. It was foolhardy to try to negotiate in the dark, but Bryce would guess his father was behind the necklace’s disappearance and come after him. They had to be far away by daylight, and he offered his captain a bonus sufficient to risk the boat and everyone on board. They were moving more slowly than Gordon would have liked, but so far they had not gotten caught on debris or hit anything hard enough to knock holes in the hull. With the Fury still crippled by the damage it had suffered during the latest large quake, they would not be able to follow.
Shortly after dawn, the captain pulled over to the riverbank about a mile upstream from where they had started. Frost was supposed to meet with Gordon here.
As the hours passed, Gordon realized something had gone wrong. Had Frost betrayed him after all and managed to escape the second man, Phillips, sent to tail him? Or had Frost been killed by Bryce or the voodoo couple? If Frost had been killed, Phillips would have gone after the necklace. Could both men have been killed? Should he have sent a third man?
Olivia appeared at one point and asked about Hannah. Gordon told her he was waiting for news, but he wasn’t sure if she believed him. Although she had been in bed, she would have felt the boat’s motion, but she didn’t question why they had come upriver. After enduring a few minutes of his company, she returned to the cabin.
Gordon was almost on the verge of setting out himself, although it had been years since he’d tackled the wilderness on his own
when Phillips stumbled into view. There was no sign of Frost.
Gordon could barely wait for the man to climb the gangplank. “Did you get it?”
Phillips nodded and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to his employer.
Gordon flipped the material open, smiling as the blue crystal winked up at him. He wrapped it up again and stowed it in his jacket. “Good work. What happened to Frost?”
“Dead. The voodoo priest threw a knife at him. Poisoned, no doubt. Frost went down hard, though he managed to throw the necklace into the woods.”
Gordon took a deep breath. Frost had been loyal to the end. He would be difficult to replace. “What about the girl and Bryce?”
“Don’t know. Bryce hid the stone in a tree hollow on his way to the drop. Frost grabbed it and took off. I followed. But that voodoo man gave me the creeps. I can’t see him handing over the girl once he knew he’d been tricked.”
So his granddaughter was probably dead. Perhaps Bryce as well. Gordon shoved aside grief. He had the stone. And if Bryce was gone, he had another son. “You took out the priest after he killed Frost?”
Phillips glanced down at his feet. “No need for that.”
“No need? He killed Frost and may have killed my son. Getting the necklace was the most important part of the mission, but if he killed Bryce, he put a price on his own head.”
