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A Summer in Time (Train Through Time Series Book 6)

Page 4

by Bess McBride


  Gem quirked an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look.

  John drew in a sharp breath.

  “Oh! Did you mean my grave?”

  Gem bit her lower lip and nodded slowly with a grimace. “Yes.”

  John closed his eyes for a moment and gave his head a small shake. When he opened them again, he shrugged his shoulders.

  “And when do I die?”

  Gem shook her head. “I’m not about to tell you that, John. You’ll be fine. You live a long life.”

  John pondered that for a moment. “And you are...”

  “A descendant through your mother’s line. Your first cousin twice removed, as it happens.”

  “I am afraid I do not know what that means, twice removed. We are cousins? Through whom?”

  “Your mother and my second great-grandfather were sister and brother.”

  John’s eyes widened. “That doesn’t seem possible. The math alone...”

  “That’s because math doesn’t figure in here. I’ve traveled through time. If you were from my time, you and I would be fourth cousins.”

  “Fourth cousins,” he murmured.

  “But we’re not. We’re first cousins, three times removed, except that you’re adopted.”

  John’s mouth dropped open, and his sharp intake of air startled Gem.

  “Oh, please tell me you knew that! John, please tell me you knew that!”

  John closed his mouth slowly and gave a slight shake of his head.

  “Well, maybe I had that wrong,” Gem said hurriedly. “Maybe that’s not true. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”

  John held up his hand.

  “Don’t apologize. I don’t even know if I believe you. How would you come by such information?”

  “A newspaper article. I don’t think I should say more.”

  “When was the article written? How would such personal information make its way into a newspaper?”

  Gem shrugged. “That, I don’t know.”

  “Then it could be in error. Are you sure it was me the article referred to? Did it say that William and Amelia Morrison were not my parents? Did it say who was?”

  Gem pressed her lips together.

  “This is all happening so fast, John. I should have kept my mouth shut. I need time to think about what I say and the implications. I made a mistake. I don’t want to make more mistakes. Can you give me some time?”

  John rubbed his hand along his eyes, dragging it down over the rest of his face and across his beard. He looked up.

  “Yes, all right. None of this makes any sense to me, and I can see that you are equally disturbed. Given that you believe you have traveled in time, which I respectfully submit that I am skeptical about such, what are your plans?”

  “I don’t know,” Gem said. “They threw me off the train. A very nice woman, Mrs. Vandingham, gave me some money from your time. Look!”

  Gem hauled some coins out of her pocket.

  “But I don’t know how far those will get me, and I know my clothes are a problem.”

  “I see no recourse but that you should stay at my house for the time being. I will ask my housekeeper to help clothe you.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure these coins will go very far, will they, but you can have them.” Gem laid them on the desk.

  “Keep your money. I am not a poor man, and if you are family, then it is only proper to help you.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it. I really do. I’ll try to figure a way out of this mess.” Gem repocketed the coins.

  “If I may ask a question?”

  “Sure! Except about the future or your parentage.”

  “Even if I believed that you had traveled through time, I would wonder why you would you travel all the way from Seattle to visit my grave.”

  Unable to meet John’s searching gaze, Gem dropped her eyes to her hands, lacing and unlacing her clasped fingers. Rather than meet John’s eyes, she directed her attention to the window.

  “I don’t really know how to explain it. You might think I was a stalker.”

  “A stalker? One who stalks?”

  “People who follow other people around?” Gem tried to explain. “Who obsess over them? Invade their privacy? Oh! That sounds like me already.”

  “Is that a legal term?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Hmmm,” John said.

  “Well, in my case, I didn’t know you were alive, so there’s that.”

  “There is that,” he agreed.

  He didn’t smile. In fact, Gem hadn’t seen him smile yet. And why should he? She had sprung some pretty sensational news on him, several bits of news actually.

  “Genealogy is a big hobby in my time, tracing ancestors.”

  “I do not think it is particularly rare in 1905. Many people have memorized their familial lines.”

  “Well, so I had headed out on a genealogy trip to do some historical research, look up some cemeteries, visit with the ancestors, you know.”

  He watched her enigmatically.

  “So that’s why I came to see you.”

  “My tombstone, you mean.”

  Gem grimaced again at the awkwardness of discussing a grave with a living person.

  “Yes.”

  “But you have said that we are not related. Most of my family is buried in Ohio. I came west to open up my practice after I returned to work. You surely don’t mean to say that you came here to Livingston especially to visit my gravesite.”

  Gem nodded, not enjoying the moment when a girl’s crush realizes the extent of her adoration.

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it. I thought I’d be talking to your tombstone.”

  “You may talk to me in person.”

  “Your life fascinated me. I won’t tell you about it because you haven’t lived it yet, but it fascinated me. I wanted to ‘meet’ you.”

  John’s cheeks above his beard bronzed, and he covered his mouth with his fist before clearing his throat.

  “I am flattered,” he said.

  Gem shrugged, unwilling to disclose her crush.

  “Cousins and all, you know.”

  “Except that we apparently are not, as you have pointed out.”

  Gem shook her head, not in denial but just as a sign that she couldn’t discuss the matter further at the moment.

  John pressed his lips together and rose.

  “Come. Let me take you to meet my housekeeper, Sally Stanton.”

  He deftly slipped his coat over his shoulders and tapped his hat down on his head.

  Passing through the outer office, he spoke to Cedric.

  “Close the office, Cedric. I will not return today.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cedric said, jumping up. He eyed Gem curiously.

  “Nice to meet you, Cedric,” she said.

  “And you as well, Miss Holliday.”

  Gem followed John back down the wooden stairs. Although she had seen his house address on census forms, she had no idea how far it was or how they would get there. He pulled open the entrance door and stood back to allow her to precede him, but just as Gem was about to pass through, he spoke.

  “Just a moment, Miss Holliday. I think you should wear my coat,” he said. “I know it is warm in the summer, but I would not care to have people on the street comment on your attire.”

  He shrugged out of the coat and deftly draped it over Gem’s shoulders. She slipped her arms into the sleeves. The hem fell to her ankles.

  “And you don’t think they’re going to comment on this?” she asked, softening her comment with a wry smile. John’s lips didn’t even twitch, and she sighed inwardly. Somehow, she hadn’t even wondered if John had a sense of humor. She truly hoped he did, but she hadn’t seen sign of it so far. Given her unusual arrival and the shock she had obviously given him with her theory of time travel, it was probably no wonder that he didn’t smile.

  Gem stepped outside in the warm sunshine and looked up a
nd down the dirt road that served as a main thoroughfare through the town. She wondered when asphalt would come into play. Soon, she hoped, as dust rose from several wagons trudging along. Buildings lined the street on both sides of the road, the large train station nestled between them. Most were wooden with false fronts, but a few sturdier structures were made of brick.

  She looked up at John.

  “Are we riding? Driving? Walking?”

  “My house is just a few blocks away. I walk every day. I have no need of a carriage or wagon.”

  “Okay,” Gem said.

  “This way.” John pointed to the right. They followed a wooden boardwalk past other commercial-style buildings until they reached the outskirts of the business district. Square brick and wooden buildings transitioned to lovely, graceful Victorian homes that perched on a rise above the road. Vast green lawns swept over the properties, often divided by concrete walkways and steps that led up to the homes.

  John paused in front of one of the Victorian delights and pulled open a largely decorative iron gate, stepping back to allow Gem to climb the steps at the base of the walkway.

  Gem looked up at the house, a two-story wooden structure in shades of gray and white. Accustomed to the sight of the colorful Victorian homes of Seattle, she found the two-tone look of John’s home elegant, if uninspired. Several rosebushes featuring yellow summery roses lent a small bit of charm to the base of the house. The walkway led up to a broad verandah, devoid of any of the usual porch furniture, such as rocking chairs or swings.

  “What a beautiful home!” Gem said, sincere in her compliment, albeit a little sad that John’s residence appeared to be more of a house than a home. She had wanted more for him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I purchased it when I moved here.”

  He pushed open a heavy oak door and stood back while Gem stepped inside. A large foyer greeted her, the floors distinctly varnished dark oak. Large double doors led off to the left and right, and a hallway stretched out beyond. A highly polished dark wooden staircase rose to an unseen second floor. A pleasant gray-and-blue Oriental carpet centered the foyer, upon which a round table held a vase of yellow roses.

  “May I help you with the coat?” John asked. Gem slid out of it and handed it to him as he turned and hung both the coat and his hat on a coat rack by the door.

  “John! You are home early!” said a slender middle-aged woman, hurrying down from the hallway and wiping her hands on a white apron that protected her plain, serviceable white blouse and gray skirt. She saw Gem and stopped short. Gem winced as the woman surveyed her from head to toe before throwing John a questioning look.

  “Sally, this is Miss Gemima Holliday. She is a distant relation of mine, and she will be staying with us for a while. Gem, this is my housekeeper, Mrs. Sally Stanton.”

  Gem barely noted that John had reverted to the more familiar use of her first name again, perhaps to explain to the housekeeper why he was dragging a strange female home with him.

  Sally ran a hasty hand across her graying hair, which she wore in a chignon on top of her head. Dark-blue eyes did not smile when she nodded in greeting. Gem sensed an unwelcome, and she opted not to hold out her hand in greeting.

  “A distant relation, John? Miss Holliday,” Sally murmured. “How do you do?”

  “Fine, thank you. I know my arrival must be a bit of a shock, and I hope I’m not too much trouble.”

  “Not at all,” Sally murmured. “We have plenty of rooms in this big house. John, are you hungry? Shall I get you and Miss Holliday some tea or coffee before I freshen up a room?”

  John looked at Gem inquiringly, and she shook her head.

  “No, thank you, Sally. We just had tea at the office. I’ll take Gem into the parlor while you see to the room.”

  “Can I take your luggage upstairs, Miss Holliday?” Sally asked, looking around on the floor as if expecting to find it. “Is it out on the porch?”

  “Gem is without luggage at the moment,” John said firmly. His expression seemed to forbid the housekeeper to ask further questions.

  She blinked but said nothing.

  “Very well. I will let you know when your room is ready.” She turned and climbed the stairs.

  John may have missed the moment when the Sally paused to stare down at Gem, but Gem didn’t.

  She looked up and smiled crookedly in the housekeeper’s direction. Gem had no doubt Sally had questions, but she would have to direct those to John. Gem suspected that she would. The housekeeper seemed very familiar with John, as if she had known him for a long time. The census data indicated she had been with the family for years.

  John led the way to a set of dark oak double doors on the right and pulled open one of the doors. Gem stepped into a pleasant room, filled with light from a large picture window. She had imagined a parlor might have flowered furniture or patterned wallpapers, but John’s parlor reflected the same uninspired look of the exterior house. A plain gray divan and matching wooden chairs flanked the dark mantel of the brick fireplace.

  The same blue-and gray-carpet covered the well-polished wooden floor. Several unimaginative pastoral paintings covered white-painted walls. The broad window, framed by blue-gray satin curtains, faced the porch, and beyond that, the street.

  “Sit down, please,” John said, pointing to the divan. He waited until Gem did before taking a seat in one of the wooden chairs himself. Crossing his legs, he looked distinctly uncomfortable as he glanced at Gem, then averted his face, seemingly intent on inspecting the room.

  Gem, having longed all her life to meet John Morrison, found herself without words.

  Chapter Six

  “All my life I think,” John said. “She was a servant in my father’s house and then became housekeeper. When he passed away, she kept house for me. She moved here with me as well. I am very appreciative of her service.”

  Gem blinked but said nothing. The genealogical wheels in her brain churned.

  “That’s nice” was her only response.

  “Are you certain you wouldn’t care for some tea or coffee? Some lemonade? I am sure Sally has some ready. She always does in summer.”

  “Lemonade? That sounds nice. Yes, I would like some, thank you.”

  John jumped up eagerly, as if he had been looking for something to do or a way to leave the room.

  “Excellent! I will have some as well.”

  He strode out on long legs, and Gem stood, too keyed to sit still. She crossed over to the window to look out on the wide green lawn, a lawn that screamed to have children playing on it, bowling, playing badminton or whatever it was that children in 1905 did for fun.

  But John would never have children. Gem felt a strange sense of despair. The sum of John’s life, when viewed from a historical standpoint, flashed before her eyes like a barren wasteland. Granted, he might hold a future helping people with their legal concerns and would become a judge, but his personal life had passed without remark, without legacy. That prospect seemed all the more poignant now that she had met him in person.

  Gem’s throat tightened, and tears sprang to her eyes. She wondered if she could change the outcome of his life, hopefully for the better. How much damage would occur if she tried to change his future?

  She wiped at the corners of her eyes, wondering what she could possibly do to make John’s life happier, or if that was even something that she could or should attempt to influence. Maybe his life was all that it was supposed to be. To imagine possible descendants who never existed boggled the mind.

  Not to mention she had no idea how long she would remain in the past.

  The door opened, and Gem whirled around with a last swipe of her eye. John paused at the door and reached for something just on the other side. He juggled a silver tray with two glasses of lemonade.

  “Oh! I should have gone with you. I could have helped!” Gem hurried forward to relieve him of the tray.

  “I do not need help fetching a few glasses of lemonade,” he said harsh
ly.

  Gem jumped back, dropping her arms to her sides. John’s expression turned instantly contrite. He set the tray down on a side table and turned to her.

  “I am sorry. I do not mean to snap. I have turned into quite the curmudgeon these past few years. Please accept my apologies.”

  “I understand,” Gem said. She promised herself that she would try to understand. She had no idea what it was like to have lost an arm.

  “I’ll try to stop trying to help you when you don’t need it. I’m sorry. I’ve just never—” She stopped.

  “Never—” He repeated with a lift of one eyebrow as he handed her a glass of lemonade. Gem, momentarily distracted to find the lemonade at room temperature, followed John back to the seating area.

  “Never been around someone with a missing limb,” she said, for lack of any better term. “So I don’t really know how not to help. I do understand that it could be irritating to have someone try to help when you don’t need it.”

  He grimaced.

  “As I said, I am overly sensitive on the subject. I must learn to accept help gracefully. Sally hovers over me like a mother hen, and I have been known to bark at her as well.”

  Gem blinked again but said nothing.

  “The lemonade is wonderful!” she said, changing the subject. “In my time, we serve it cold, from the refrigerator.”

  “How very unusual! I do not have a refrigerator yet, but I plan to purchase one soon. However, one would need ice in ready supply, and Livingston is a very small town. In summer, Sally prepares lemonade daily.”

  Gem nodded and crossed her legs. John caught the motion and stared at her legs.

  “If you will excuse me for a minute, I need to speak to Sally about some clothing for you. I wonder how many dresses you will need.”

  Gem swallowed hard.

  “I have no idea,” she said. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be in your time. I suppose I might just vanish back into my time. I can’t really remember what happened to throw me back in time. I know I fell asleep.”

  “Do you plan to leave soon then?”

  Gem was touched to see that John looked a little put out by the idea.

 

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