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

by Bess McBride

  “Yes.” She offered no further information.

  “Here’s your compartment,” he said, sliding open a nearby door. “Can I get you something? Some coffee? Water? Juice?”

  “Sure, I’ll take some water. Thank you!”

  “No problem.”

  Gem stepped into a compartment exactly like the one she’d just been in on the westbound train. Too keyed up to sit, she stood in the middle and stared down at the platform. She hoped beyond all hope that she could find a way to go back in time. The idea of sleeping seemed out of the question, but she had to force herself to do it. Or something.

  She’d likely fainted after John had said he loved her—probably a combination of emotion, holding her breath and dehydration. How could she possibly force herself to faint to get back?

  The steward delivered some water, and she contemplated asking him to bop her over the head and knock her out once the train started moving. She almost smiled at the absurdity of the idea.

  She gulped down the water and sat down on the edge of the bench, still watching the activities on the platform. At long last, she saw the conductor pick up the step stool and disappear from view as he stepped aboard the train.

  Within minutes, the train blew its whistle and rolled out of the station. Gem’s heart pounded, and she tried to slow it by breathing deeply, knowing she couldn’t possibly fall asleep in such an anxious state.

  She wasted no time on viewing the scenery but settled back into a corner of the bench and closed her eyes. The loud beating of her heart only intensified with her inability to see. She focused on John’s face, the softness in his cobalt-blue eyes when he had last looked at her. She remembered the silkiness of his hair, the strength of his embrace as he held her.

  Her heart slowed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As John disembarked the train, he searched the platform for Gem, but he saw no sign of her. He had hoped against hope that she had found her way back to him, that she would somehow be waiting for him at the station. He had no doubt that she had traveled through time when she disappeared from his embrace, and he only hoped for her sake that she had returned to the future, to 2017. John believed with all his heart that Gem would try to make her way back to him.

  Yet when she disappeared, she had not been able to take the pillowcase containing her clothing and the money she had stowed inside. He bitterly regretted that he had not pushed her to hide some money on her person.

  When Gem vanished, John had wanted nothing more than to scream for her as he had screamed in pain when his arm was severed. He had barely managed to stop himself from shouting out her name as he ran the length of the train in search of her.

  To his dismay, he had found not Gem but Mrs. Sarah Stewart as he hurried through the lounge car. Spinning around, he had tried to bolt unseen, but Mrs. Stewart spied him and called out his name.

  “John!” she cried out. “I thought you were not on the train! Miss Holliday said you were not. Why would she say such a thing?”

  “Forgive me, Mrs. Stewart. I have no time to talk.”

  When John swung around to hurry back through the vestibule toward the dining room, she stalled him with a restraining hand upon his arm. Desperate to resume his search, he almost shook her off, but he stopped. Other people in the lounge watched them. He could not humiliate a lady so.

  “Why, John, what is the emergency? Did you know Miss Holliday was on the train? I am confused.”

  “As am I, Mrs. Stewart. I really cannot talk now. I must dash off. Do enjoy your trip to wherever it is you are going.”

  “I am going to Spokane to do some shopping. John, will you not tell me what is so urgent that you cannot pause? Your face is pale.”

  “I cannot. Good day, Mrs. Stewart.”

  John slipped out of her grasp and ran through the connecting door. He passed through the dining room and rushed into the sleeping train. Fearing that Mrs. Stewart would follow him, John retreated to the lavatory for a few moments. When he felt enough time had passed, he emerged and returned to Gem’s compartment.

  John had cried when he discovered that he had lost his arm, not only from the terrible pain, but because he knew his life would change forever. And it had. He had not cried again. Now, his chest burned, desperate to release the grief he felt at Gem’s disappearance. But tears did not come. He could do nothing but pace the compartment, awaiting the train’s arrival at the next station.

  John had no idea where Gem was in time, in location. He had debated the notion of traveling on to Seattle, with arrival the following day, but he could not be certain that Gem had reached Seattle. Myriad scenarios played in his mind, and he’d had less than half an hour to make a decision before the train reached the next stop.

  Desperate to do something, anything, other than nothing, John had disembarked the train, carrying her things. Gem had not been at the station, and he now hurried into the depot to purchase a return ticket. Fortunately, he had not encountered Mrs. Stewart again as the train carrying her continued on its way.

  At some point during the journey, John noted with astonishment that his visceral reactions to the train had calmed. He found that his legs no longer shook or locked as he walked. Sweat no longer dampened his brow. His skin no longer crawled.

  He purchased the return ticket, fortunate enough to acquire a sleeping compartment. He had no plans to sleep—in fact he wondered if he could ever sleep again, certainly not on a train—but the compartment would provide him the privacy he desired. He could not stomach the notion of chatting with strangers, with anyone, in truth.

  The eastbound train arrived, and John waited impatiently for passengers to disembark. At the first possible moment, he boarded the train, still bemused that he could now do so with less misery than previously. He strode to his compartment, waved off the steward and settled in to await the train’s arrival in Livingston.

  If Gem were to reappear in 1905, she would most likely make her way back to Livingston, if she could. He stared at the stuffed pillowcase, wishing again that it had traveled with her to wherever she had gone.

  The train moved out of the station with a lurch and several blasts of the whistle. As it swayed and rocked, John struggled to stay awake. As he had told Gem, he too had not slept the night before, and exhaustion clutched at him, threatening to drag him down into sleep.

  John rose hastily and paced the compartment restlessly. That he had overcome his hatred of trains sufficiently to find himself drowsy surprised him even further.

  The trip back to Livingston seemed interminable, but at last they finally arrived in the late afternoon. John hurried off the train and scanned the platform for Gem, but he saw no sign of her. She did not await him there, as he had so desperately hoped.

  He ran into the station, scanning the crowd for her face. She was not there either.

  There was nothing John could do but wait to see if the next train brought her to him. He had no need to ask when it was due. He knew the train schedule by heart, simply because he hated the thing. And often that which was despised was given the most attention.

  Although John had discovered that he could, in fact, survive riding a train, he still hated the beast. Despite the depth of his animosity, he was fully prepared to travel back to Seattle to look for Gem. To his chagrin, that would have to wait for the following day. There would be no more westbound trains that afternoon.

  With a heavy heart and a chest that ached with stifled emotion, John left the train station. He eyed his office building with little interest. The decision of whether to return to his house or pretend to do some work in his office mattered little to him at that moment.

  He did not care to face Sally—his mother—or to see her gloat at the news that Gem was gone. He thought he could not bear it. The silence of the office though, where he would be forced to dwell on his loss, did not appeal to him either. John turned and surveyed the train depot exterior. He could, however, keep watch on the station from his office, in the hopes that Gem might a
ppear, though that was extremely unlikely in the absence of an arriving train.

  Only two eastbound trains arrived on a daily basis, and his had been the last of the day.

  John crossed the street slowly, barely acknowledging passersby. He climbed the stairs to his office to find Cedric quite properly at work. The clerk rose quickly when John stepped into the office.

  “Mr. Morrison! I did not expect to see you today.”

  “Yes, I am sorry that I did not inform you I would be out. Please take the rest of the day off, Cedric. I will not need you.”

  John did not wait for a response but passed through to his office.

  “Thank you!” Cedric called out. “Can I make you some tea before I leave?”

  “No, thank you,” John said. “Lock the door behind you.” John closed the adjoining door and removed his overcoat, jacket and hat, hanging them on the coat rack.

  Tired in soul if not in body, John delayed his desire to slump into his chair. He crossed to the window to stare down at the station, now quiet, as passengers had dispersed. As if he could conjure Gem up by will, he remembered seeing her for the first time. Lost and alone, a strange force had drawn him to her. He now recognized it as destiny. She had come for him, and he had gone to her.

  Could it have only been a few days before that she had burst into his life? Turning his world upside down? Forcing him, deliberately and inadvertently, to confront his fears—of love, of the train? It seemed a lifetime ago.

  “I love you, Miss Gemima Holliday,” he said aloud to the empty train station. “I love you, and if it takes the rest of my life, I will find you. You will not look at my history and see me alone—without family, children or love. I will find you.”

  John’s missing arm ached almost as much as his heart. His words sounded strong, but his hopes felt feeble.

  He turned from the window and dropped down into his chair. He cared nothing about the paperwork on his desk. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wishing and hoping for the first time in years that the train’s whistle would shriek its arrival.

  Sleep caught him, and he drifted off.

  Sometime later, John awoke with a start. Consulting his pocket watch, he noted that it was six o’clock. It seemed that he had slept for several hours.

  Gem! He caught his breath.

  Jumping up from his chair, John strode toward the window to scan the train station. Empty, barren, devoid of people.

  Gem was not there. He really had not expected to see her given that no other trains had arrived, but...he had to look. He could not give up hope that he might find her again one day, that she might find him.

  John struggled with a renewed wave of grief at his loss. He braced his hand against the window sash, hoping and praying that she was at least safe. When he brought himself under control, he scanned the station one more time in search of the waif whom he loved.

  Seeing only a vast wasteland, he sighed heavily, turned to gather his things and left the office.

  Emerging onto the street, John hardly noticed that the sun still shone low in the sky given the long days of summer. The street was quiet, most people having gone home to eat their dinners. John strolled slowly, his attention completely absorbed by thoughts of Gem.

  Arriving at his house before he knew it, John paused on the street. Lamps had already been lit in the parlor, and he grimaced. He truly did not want to face Sally right now and could only hope she had retired to her room for the night. He doubted it though. The woman had been a mother hen long before he realized she was in truth his mother.

  With little else to do until the train arrived the following day, John dragged himself up to the house. As he approached, the front door burst open.

  Gem rushed toward him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gem opened her eyes to the beautiful sight of mahogany paneling in her compartment. She knew without a doubt that she had traveled back through time again. She only hoped that the year was 1905.

  Daylight filtered in through the window. She wondered about the time. Jumping up, she pulled open the compartment door to scan the corridor in search of someone to ask the time and date.

  Gem thought fast, her mind in a whirlwind. No steward or conductor wandered the railcar, and she realized that was probably for the best. Once again, she didn’t have a ticket for her sleeping compartment, not if she was in 1905 heading east. The conductor or a steward was likely to want to know where she had come from, and she didn’t want to reenter a never-ending loop of train employees who wanted her gone.

  Still, she had to ask someone the time, the date.

  Gem slid into the corridor, scanning compartments for an open doorway. Spying one, she hurried down to it and tapped on the doorsill.

  “Excuse me,” she said.

  Two ladies dressed in what Gem hoped was clothing appropriate to the turn-of-the-century, looked up from books they had been reading. She thanked her lucky stars she was still in her blouse and skirt, although her hat had long since disappeared.

  “Yes?” responded one, a middle-aged slender woman with dark hair. The haughty quirk of her thin eyebrow intimidated Gem, but she rushed in with her inquiry.

  “These may sound like odd questions, but what time is it and what date is it?” Gem tried a toothy grin.

  The other woman, also middle aged, albeit a bit plumper, laughed and looked at the watch pinned to her blouse.

  “The time is noon, my dear. As for the date, why, it’s June 25th, 1905.”

  Gem’s knees weakened, and she grabbed the doorjamb.

  “Oh, thank you, thank you!”

  “My pleasure, dear,” said the plump lady. “Are you well?”

  “Better than well!” Gem grinned. “Better! Where are we?”

  “Gracious! You seem to be a little lost, young lady.” The dark-haired woman spoke.

  “You could say that.”

  The friendlier of the two women set down her book and rose.

  “Come sit down, dear. Have a cup of tea. Martha did not drink hers.”

  Rather than struggle with the little woman who had taken her arm, Gem allowed her to pull her into the compartment.

  “Where are we again?”

  “About an hour from Livingston, Montana, I should think. We could ask the conductor.”

  “No, that’s okay,” she answered hastily, unwilling to deal with any more train staff. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  She perched on the edge of the bench, ready for action, any kind of action. An hour seemed like an hour too long. She was desperate to reach Livingston, to find out if John had made it back, to reassure him that she was returning to him. A cell phone would have come in very handy about now.

  “Here, dear, have some tea.” The friendly lady handed Gem a cup of tea, which she drank gratefully.

  “My name is Macy Buckley, and this is Martha Covington. We are from Seattle, on our way to Chicago. And you?”

  Gem nodded. “Gem Holliday. I’m from Seattle too. I’m going to Livingston.”

  “Oh, well, that’s just the next stop then!”

  “It is,” Gem said with a wide grin. “The very next stop.”

  “It is so odd that you asked the date, Miss Holliday,” Martha murmured, still holding her book, though not reading it.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I had just woken up, and I was disoriented.”

  “Well, of course you were, dear,” Macy said. “Quite understandable.”

  Her companion looked skeptical, and Gem smiled benignly. She was headed back to John—if he was there—and nothing else really mattered. If he wasn’t there, she would either wait or try to find him, she wasn’t quite sure which at the moment.

  The only downside was that in the absence of anywhere else to go, Gem would have to hope Sally would let her back into the house.

  “And are you visiting friends or family in Livingston, Gem? I’ve never stopped there myself. It seems like a very small town.”

  “Yes, family,” Gem said
, the dimples in her cheeks deepening as she smiled. “I have family there.”

  “How lovely! Will you be staying long?”

  “Forever!” Gem murmured. “I’m getting married.” She wanted to shout the news but tamped down her joy...just in case, just in case.

  Macy clapped her hands together. “Oh! How very exciting! Congratulations!”

  “Thank you,” Gem said.

  “Is your beau there in Livingston then? Is he waiting for you?”

  Gem nodded, but the fear that had been screaming to be heard finally broke through. Her smile wavered. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

  What if John had traveled in time? What if he had vanished to the future...to the past? What if he had fallen into a time before the trains had reached the West?

  “You’ve gone pale, Miss Holliday,” Martha noted.

  A wave of blackness crossed Gem’s vision, and she reached out. Encountering Macy’s soft hand, she murmured.

  “I can’t faint! I can’t faint! Please don’t let me faint!”

  “No, of course not! Martha, take my handkerchief and go moisten it.”

  Martha took the proffered handkerchief and hurried out of the compartment.

  “Breathe, breathe, dear,” Macy said. “Are you prone to fainting?”

  “I’m getting there,” Gem muttered through clenched teeth as she waited for the compartment to stop swimming. There was nothing she could do to stop the rocking of the train though.

  “Getting there?” Macy repeated.

  “I mean I seem to be fainting a lot, but I can’t faint now. I can’t. I’ll travel if I do.”

  “What an odd thing to say. Well, of course you would travel. I do not think the conductor will stop the train because you have fainted. Are you traveling alone, Gem? Is there anyone we should fetch for you?”

  Martha returned with the wet handkerchief and handed it to Macy.

  “Here, dear,” Macy said, pressing it to Gem’s forehead. Gem clutched it gratefully, the cool sensation helping to ground her.

  “No, I’m alone. I just have to get to Livingston in one piece without fainting. I’m never going to ride another train.”