She joined them as they showed her the small dining room with a table long enough to seat six people and a wooden chair for each spot. That was when she realized that people in the late 1890s did without a lot of comfort. She had taken her recliner, her couch, her air mattress, and cushioned kitchen chairs for granted.
As soon as they walked outside, she caught sight of Ted talking to Richie Madison, who was Milly’s twenty-five-year-old grandson. Ignoring them, she wandered the length of the porch which wrapped around half the house. She noticed that the white paint along the house was peeling. Grass and weeds suffocated any flowers that tried to thrive in the hostile environment. It did need some work. She stopped herself. Yes, it did need work…but not her work. Once she figured out how to get back to her correct time, this would be a bad memory.
Sunlight graced the acreage that looked as removed from civilization as one could get. The river edged their property, Esther had said, and as Megan examined the land at the back of the house, she saw where the slope declined to the flowing water. The Red River. Last year there had been a flood, but the house remained far above ground to avoid damage. Or at least, that’s what Esther said.
Megan turned her attention to more pressing matters. Though she’d never been in one, she knew the little wooden building the size of a closet was an outhouse. She shuddered. Why couldn’t she have ended up in the past when they had flushing toilets in the house? Clenching her jaw, she debated whether or not to relieve her full bladder. Curse it all! If she’d been a man, she could just go anywhere. But a woman had to sit down to go to the bathroom!
“Mrs. Jacob!” Miriam called out as Megan tapped the porch rail with her long fingernails. “Mrs. Jacob.”
Megan jerked when someone touched her. She turned her head and saw Miriam move in front of her.
“Sorry. I called your name.”
Right. Mrs. Jacob. What a creepy sound.
“Would you like to eat dinner at my house? We don’t expect you to cook without any food.” She smiled and folded her hands in front of her, as if praying Megan would say yes.
“Well…” Megan paused. Could an outhouse be called a bathroom in this time period? She had no idea, so she pointed to the outhouse. “I need to take care of some personal business.”
Miriam blushed. “Oh, of course! I’ll let you tend to your needs at the privy.” She scooted away from her.
Privy. Right. She’d have to remember that. Megan hobbled to the small building, feeling as if her bladder would burst at any moment. She winced as the door creaked. The first thing she noticed was the smell. Placing her hand over her nose, she forced back the urge to gag. This had to be the crudest thing she’d ever done. Yes, people in her time camped and did their business in the wilderness, but she wasn’t one of them.
She wanted to leave, but if she didn’t go, she’d soil her clothes! She stepped back outside and shut the door, taking a deep breath of fresh air. She could do this. Her ancestors did this every day they lived! Brave souls. She inhaled again and held her breath. Then she flung the door open and stepped to the wooden bench with a hole cut into it. She pulled up the awkward dress and worked the belt on her shorts loose, her fingers anxious since she wanted to be quick. If she didn’t work fast enough, she’d have to breathe this rancid air. She unzipped her shorts and shoved them and her underwear to her knees. Then she sat down, shivering as a blast of wind blew up her bare bottom. Trying not to think about where she was, she released her bladder.
What should have taken a couple of seconds seemed to take forever as she listened to the sound of her urine splattering the dirt in the hole someone had dug long ago. She didn’t want to breathe, and she fought it, even when her lungs burned. Then someone knocked on the door and she gasped for air. The putrid smell invaded her senses and her eyes watered. This had to be the most disgusting thing she’d ever done in her entire life!
“What do you want?” she yelled as she frantically searched for toilet paper. Toilet paper? In 1898? Oh great. What could she wipe with?
“I have some papers for you,” Miriam called from the other side of the door.
“Papers?” Is that what Miriam thought she needed? Reading material?
“To wipe with.”
The meaning dawned on her. Thank you, Lord, for Miriam’s quick thinking! “Give them to me.”
Miriam cracked the door open and shoved the papers at her.
Megan gladly accepted them, said thank you and set the pile of magazines by her on the long bench. After she heard Miriam’s retreating footsteps on the grass, she tore some pages from the top magazine and wiped. When she was done, she emerged from the privy, feeling better but also dirty. Where did one wash their hands after this? Or, worse yet, what if they didn’t wash their hands at all?
Miriam waited a few feet away from the outhouse. “Here’s soap.” Miriam handed her the bar.
Relieved, Megan took it and followed Miriam to the pump where she washed her hands.
“It sure is peaceful out here,” Miriam said. “Are you ready to eat?”
She dried her hands on the towel the woman handed her. “Yes.” She’d feel more optimistic on a full stomach, she decided.
Once they returned to the porch, she noticed that Richie continued to talk to Ted who kept shaking his head and mumbling something about bad luck under his breath. She rolled her eyes. As if arriving in Fargo in 1898 and getting married was on her “to do” list that morning!
“So that’s all you need to know about Ray’s farm,” Richie concluded and slapped Ted on the back, causing him to stumble forward. He laughed. “You’ve got to toughen up. Farm work will do that for you.”
“Farm work?” Megan asked.
“Yes,” Esther said. “Ray could use another hand on the farm and Richie will get your husband a job. Ray lives that way.” She pointed to the west. “He’s only a few miles away, which makes this place ideal. Isn’t it terrific how God works things out? Everything is looking better already for you two.” She gave a contented sigh and waved the group toward her. “Come on. Let’s get some grub.”
Miriam giggled and whispered, “That’s her joke. She can’t handle the fact that I’m a better cook than her.”
Megan resigned herself to the task at hand and stuck with Miriam who talked enough so that she could think. Now, just how was she going to get out of this mess?
***
Ted fell onto the thin mattress in the second bedroom, glad that he didn’t have to share it with Miss Prissy Megan. The woman shouldn’t get on his nerves, but he realized why she irked him as much as she did. How many women had he come across who didn’t want to go out with him because he didn’t make enough money, whatever that meant. He worked hard at his job. Sure, he got bored sitting on the phone, listening to people complain about the software on their computer. Who wouldn’t after dealing with it for eight to nine hours a day, five days a week? He made a decent wage and could live comfortably off of it. So he wasn’t a CEO or some other important executive in the company, but he could do worse. He could be a lazy person who didn’t work at all. Some men wanted women to support them.
He punched his pillow in aggravation before he settled his head back on it. He’d seen the engagement ring on Megan’s finger. The size of the diamond meant she had a fiancé who earned the same amount of money in one month that he earned in half a year. The guy had to be loaded, which explained her aversion to him. He shrugged. Not that he would consider her anyway, even if she was good looking.
He wondered why Megan’s opinion mattered to him. It wasn’t like she mattered or anything. Sighing, he watched the shadows on the ceiling. At least the breeze drifting in through the open window helped calm his anger.
He finally fell asleep and the stream of sunlight hitting his eyes woke him in the morning. He got up and put on his clothes, feeling disgusting since he’d worn them yesterday. But what else could he do?
After a quick visit to the outhouse, he entered through the kitchen door and s
aw that Megan sat in the parlor. She wore her shirt and shorts and was peering out the window. He debated whether or not he should talk to her. Surely, she wanted to get back to their correct time as much as he did, and there was that saying, “Two heads are better than one.” Maybe together, they could figure out how to get back to the future.
He lumbered forward until he came to the small table separating the two rocking chairs. Reluctant, he sat in the empty rocking chair and looked out the window, wondering what held her fascination out there. All he saw was grass, a clear blue sky and a deer leaping along the property.
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Soon I’ll have to put on that awful dress.”
Shrugging, he said, “It won’t be for long. We just need to figure out how to get out of here.”
“That’s true. I was thinking the train might be the answer.”
He nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. But I guess we’ll have to wait until we have enough money to buy train tickets.”
“We can get money today.”
Now this he was something he had to hear. “How?”
“I’m hawking my ring.” She held up her hand and waved her ring finger.
He furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Your fiancé won’t be happy about that.”
“Well, I don’t have a fiancé anymore, do I?”
He blinked. “Oh come on. Once we get back to our time, we won’t be married.”
She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I caught my fiancé kissing another woman right before you bumped into me.”
“No kidding?”
She shot him a ‘do I look like I’m kidding’ look. Then she peered out the window again. “As far as I’m concerned, this ring is payment for the year I wasted on him.”
“It doesn’t sound like you loved him.”
Still refusing to meet his gaze, she replied, “My mother loved him. I wanted to make her happy.”
Surprised, he glanced at his watch which hadn’t worked ever since they traveled in time. He wondered if he could sell it. Probably not. It was a cheap brand he bought at a retail store.
Megan stood up and took the awkward dress off the hook by the door. At least she had something respectable to show up in. Glancing at his jeans and t-shirt, he knew that his clothes would not suffice in an old fashioned church. What could he do about it? He had no money and no way to get new clothes, so for the time being, he was stuck looking odd.
He tried to hide his humor as she squirmed into the bulky dress, but she saw his smirk and rolled her eyes. Whether he liked it or not, he was stuck with her for however long it took for them to get back home, so he might as well do what he could to get along with her. Bickering wouldn’t do them any good. It could even delay their progress.
Taking a deep breath, he eased out of the chair so he could face her.
She blinked as he stepped forward.
“I’m not going to bite,” he promised, wondering why she looked apprehensive.
“Well, one can’t tell what you’ll do. Your opinion of me is low enough as it is.” She tied the strings of her bonnet under her chin.
“And you’re just as delightful,” he quipped, immediately wishing he hadn’t. He was trying to make things better, but so far, he’d made them worse. “Look. I’m sorry, alright? We both want to return home.”
She nodded, though the hesitant expression on her face didn’t falter. “True.”
“We can accomplish that goal better if we put aside our personal opinions of each other and work together.”
A smile crossed her face. “What are you? A team empowerment supervisor?”
“Very funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny.” She turned back to the window. “Oh great. They’re coming.”
“You thought they wouldn’t?”
“I hoped they’d forget about us.”
He scoffed. That showed how little she knew. Miriam and Esther reminded him of Tony. That guy always kept his word. If he said he’d do something or be somewhere, it’d take a freak accident to stop him. And on a beautiful April morning with the sun shining, birds chirping and squirrels playing, unexpected absences didn’t happen.
“Well, at least we’ll get lunch after the service.” Megan straightened her back and strode toward the door.
“Let’s just hope we’ll be long gone before dinner.”
“You’d better hope that,” she agreed, putting her hand on the brass doorknob, “because I can’t cook anything I can’t microwave.”
Cute, he thought, his lips curled up in amusement. She assumed she’d be the cook. Little did she know that he found his way around the kitchen quite well, thanks to his five year job as a chef. Fortunately, he’d also paid attention yesterday when Miriam made the meal and her sister gushed on and on about the cookstove’s wonderful features.
Megan turned the knob and opened the wood door.
He inwardly cringed. Great. The marshal stood right there on the porch beside Esther who hugged Megan as if they’d known each other their entire lives. Aaron simply narrowed his eyes at Ted, but Ted refused to let the lawman know he intimidated him.
Instead, he stepped forward to shake his hand. “How are you this morning, Marshal?”
The clean shaven man’s grip tightened a bit, probably a subtle warning to notify Ted that he was wary of him. “Good. And you?”
“I’ve been better.” He wiped his hand on the backside of his jeans. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to shave. Or dress properly. Are you sure you want me in church?”
“Now don’t you try getting out of it,” Esther intervened. “It doesn’t matter what you look like. God can take you as you are.”
That was all well to say but when they got to church, Ted noticed that all of the men wore their best suits. Everyone stared at him, so he had a hard time following Aaron, Esther and Megan to the pew. He knew how he looked from their perspective, a sinner of the worst sort. Maybe they thought he’d been drinking at the bar the night before or doing some other wicked deed. It wasn’t like going to church in the future when wearing jeans and t-shirts was acceptable.
He sat next to Megan, keeping a safe distance from her. Unfortunately, Richie showed up and squeezed himself into the pew, forcing Ted to press up against Megan.
“Give me some room,” she hissed in his ear.
“I can’t. I’m trapped. It’s either you or Richie.”
“Then choose him.”
“I will not.”
“You like him.”
“But you’re a woman, and there’s a big difference.” He ignored her and her soft side that pressed against his. Regardless of how much she irritated him, he’d rather cozy up to her than Richie!
She wiggled but couldn’t budge from her spot next to Esther, so she crossed her arms and looked forward.
Richie leaned over and said, “You two make a happy couple.”
Ted hid his grimace. The man was nuts.
“So I’ll see you at Ray’s farm bright and early tomorrow. I think you’ll enjoy riding a horse.”
“Nothing doing, Richie,” Esther admonished, peering around Megan who kept her eyes fixed on the pulpit. “He needs to get clothes. Then he can do the farming come Tuesday.”
Ted remained still, lest he shake his head in protest. Once he and Megan went back to the train, they’d figure out a way back home. And that would be after lunch. His growling stomach insisted he eat, and he had a church service to muddle through first. Not that he was opposed to church. He was just opposed being hungry for a couple of hours.
“Tuesday then,” Richie consented.
The people stood up and Ted joined them and started lip-synching the words to the hymns.
Chapter Five
Cole wiped the water from his lips. The cool river satisfied his thirst, but hunger remained another problem. He’d spent most of the night walking but managed to sleep in the
barren fields in this godforsaken land. He stayed near the train tracks and continued to keep guard, especially when a train passed by. But Blake didn’t show up and that gave him one thing to be grateful for. What he needed now was a decent meal and to find out where he was. He hoped that Fargo wasn’t too far away. Last check at the time travel device showed him that the chip hadn’t budged from its location, and that was a good thing. Once he found it, he’d put it back to where it belonged. Then what? Where would he go?
He stood up from the sandy bank of the river and glanced at the train tracks about a mile away. Maybe he’d follow the river. It seemed to run parallel to the tracks. Then he could drink whenever he got thirsty. When the tracks veered away from the water, he’d walk along them again.
The trek was a hard and long one. The sun beat down on his head. He’d lost his hat in the train. His face heated from the glare of the sun, and he knew a sunburn was inevitable. His legs grew sore from the endless miles he walked, making his pace slower than he wished. Birds offered their melodic consolations for his plight, but his aching body refused to be comforted. Instead, he trudged forward, ignoring the sting on the soles of his feet or his breaths as they became shallow from pressing on.
He’d focus on his goal. He’d find the chip and go to the 1950’s. Then he’d make a new name for himself. He’d become someone important, gain wealth, maybe even get some fame. The 50’s had the conveniences he enjoyed and no one would know him, so he’d be safe. The 50’s were a good time, he decided. It was the flourishing period of America. He’d know what was to come and know how to deal with it. Then he’d die, safe in his bed in another country. Maybe Canada. Some place where he could remain out of Christian Jacob’s reach.
At least he finally had a plan. Now all he had to do was find the chip and he’d follow through with it.
***
Megan decided eating lunch before going to the train station was a smart move. However, staying and listening to Miriam and Esther talk in the parlor about buying clothes from the mercantile was not as smart. Their enthusiasm did little to motivate any excitement on her part. She just wanted to get home, and not the antique one they’d given her and Ted to rent. Which reminded her…She also wanted out of this farce called a marriage.
Meant To Be Page 5
