“And when do you think it would be a good time to start worrying?”
“If they’re not back by tomorrow night, I promise you, I’ll worry!”
Nick sighed. “Fine, I’ll take a break. I’ll go for a walk. Do you swear you won’t take your eyes off the monitor?”
“What do think, Nick? That I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“No. No, I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I apologize for being a jerk.” He didn’t want to get on the boy’s bad side. After all, he thought, when Cassandra and I marry, James will be my stepson.
“That’s all right,” said James giving him a pat on the shoulder as Nick rose. “I understand.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in a few.”
“Take your time.”
As Nick walked out the door of the lab, James punched the tiny button and started strumming his invisible guitar, eyes firmly glued to the monitor.
*****
Cassandra and the other three women all woke around the same time, and took turns with the basin and pitcher, cleaning up as well as they could. They dressed in the same clothes as the day before, donning the fresh linens that had been supplied. Evie helped Cassandra with her hair, holding the one available hand mirror, and then Cassandra reciprocated.
They all ate together in the men’s quarters. Once the table had been cleared, Miss Ketchum picked up a ball of yarn and two knitting needles and began to cast on.
“What will you knit?” Evie asked her.
“Oh, whatever I have time to finish. I could probably work up a nice muffler for Mrs. Adams in the course of a day.”
“I never learned to knit,” said Evie. “No one in my family ever did.”
“What? How surprising!” declared Miss Johnston.
Caleb, seated next to Evie picked up her small hand and regarded it tenderly. “I do not think these hands have done much serious work, except painting,” he said to her with a smile.
“I am almost ashamed to admit that is true,” she said, looking into his eyes.
“Come, let me show you,” said Miss Ketchum.
She began to teach Evie while Caleb looked on affectionately.
“Miss Ketchum, where did you learn to knit?” Cassandra asked.
“Master’s wife taught me, down in North Carolina, when I was just a little girl. Even though once I was older they sent me to work in the fields, I kept it up and was able to make an occasional pair of socks or a hat if I could get a hold of a bit o’ extra yarn.”
Cassandra pictured the small girl laboring night and day in bondage. The image made her own troubles seem insignificant.
Samuel fished a small, rudimentary, wooden horse and a folding knife from where he’d stashed them in his pocket and began to carve. Cassandra watched him for a while, then picked up her book, but could not focus on the words on the page. Images of James’ face, Jake’s, Professor Carver’s and Nick’s swam before her eyes. She knew they must be getting worried.
The door opened and her heart leapt. Perhaps it was Mr. Adams with news of Carter! Instead, Mr. Evans walked in, having used the water closet in the hall, and went to wash his hands in the basin. He then came to the table with a deck of cards and sat down next to her.
“Fancy a game?”
“I am sorry. I would not be good company. I cannot concentrate.”
“No need to apologize, Mrs. Reilly, I understand. We need some diversion, however. Would you like me to read out loud from—” He looked at the cover of the book. “Ah, Nathaniel’s masterpiece!”
“No, I do not think it is suitable for our mood.”
“Then we need a story. Caleb, have you ever told Mrs. Reilly the tale of your escape from slavery? I imagine she would like to hear what has brought you to this moment in your lives.”
“I would!” Cassandra said, putting down her book. “But I do not want to impose if you would rather not, Mr. Stone.”
“Would you mind, Brother Caleb?” asked Miss Ketchum. “It is a long tale, but he tells it well,” she informed Cassandra.
“Not at all,” Caleb said. “I think it is time for Mrs. Reilly to hear it and time is certainly one of the things we have.”
Samuel put down his carving, and Miss Ketchum reached over and squeezed her brother’s hand. Evie put aside the knitting and Miss Johnston sat up straighter in her chair.
“It begins from my earliest days when I worked in the fields. My hands were small and nimble so I could get a hold of that cotton…”
He spoke for an hour. When he finished telling of the encounter with the slave-catchers in Mr. Clarkson’s cart, Cassandra realized she’d been holding her breath.
“At the house that Mr. Clarkson delivered us to,” he continued, “across the bay from Baltimore, we met a group of ladies who had come ’specially to meet us and hear our stories. They were amazed at what we had been through. They said their group raised funds to help runaway slaves and that they had money to put us on a train to Philadelphia. This was the best news we had ever heard. After a good night’s sleep, we put on our same clothes, I kept my old man disguise, and they drove us in a carriage to a train station where they bought us five tickets, including the two for Nate and Sharla. We could not thank them enough, but they would not accept the gratitude. They gave fifteen dollars to us three, and ten to Nate and Sharla, plus a nice basket of food for the trip. They said that once we went over the Pennsylvania line, we would be free.
“The train pulled into the station, big and smoking. I had never seen anything like it. We were a little scared to get on the great steel monster, but more scared to be caught and sent back.
The train chugged along all that day and we watched houses, fields, and rivers go by. We saw black folk out working the farms, and in my heart I said a prayer that they would get themselves to freedom too. We slept in our seats overnight, and in the morning I was woken by Nate yelling.
‘We’re in Pennsylvania! We’re here! We crossed the line!’
“We were free. Before the Fugitive Slave laws, once you were over that line, nothing could send you back. We laughed and cried and hugged each other. We were really free! When that train pulled into the Philadelphia station, we put our feet on the ground for the first time as free men and women. I tell you, nothing ever felt like that before or since.”
“It is true,” chimed Samuel. “It was a wondrous moment.”
“It is beyond my imagining!” sighed Cassandra.
“We stayed in Philadelphia for about a month with Nate and Sharla, who had a sister there,” Caleb continued. “They told us where to find work and were most generous to let us share their tiny home. We heard about this place called New York from the people we met, and the three of us decided that was where we wanted to go. So after we saved enough money, Sam and I doing building work, and Lill sewing and doing laundry, we bought train tickets and came on. We thought we had found a home in New York. We thought we would live there forever, especially after we met the Johnstons and they took us in. But now, it is time to move on again.”
Lillian and Samuel shook their heads sadly, and there was silence for a moment. Mr. Evans patted Caleb on the back.
Evie was weeping.
“Excuse me,” she said. She hurried away into the women’s bedroom. The rest of the group sat quietly for a moment.
Finally, Miss Johnston said, “Go on, Caleb. Go comfort her.”
He did as he was told, went into the bedroom, and closed the door behind him.
*****
“We have heard from Carter!” cried Mr. Adams bursting into the room. He will be here with the luggage by five tomorrow. He has borrowed a different carriage so as not to be recognized and followed, and he will escort Miss Bay and Mrs. Reilly back to Manhattan after we have seen the others off.”
Cassandra gasped with relief. They could go back by the house, get their things, and make their way to the portal exit by hack coach. They would dismiss the coach and when the coast was clear, they’d go. They would be back in 2122 befor
e midnight the next day.
Evie hurried out of the women’s quarters, followed shortly thereafter by Caleb. “Mr. Adams, did you say that Carter will be here tomorrow?”
“Yes, my dear. You and your friend can return to Manhattan then.”
Cassandra saw Evie turn to Caleb, her face pale. The young man squeezed her hand.
*****
The next day, Cassandra tried to keep herself occupied as she waited anxiously for five o’clock. She listened as the fugitives and Miss Johnston talked about what it would be like in Canada, what they would do, how they would survive.
“And what does your family think of your going?” Cassandra asked her.
“They do not know,” she said, her eyes downcast.
“My goodness! They will be horrified when you do not return with me and Evie! I am sure they are already quite worried!”
“Only Anna Mae and Caroline know,” she said quietly, “and I asked them not to tell my family just yet, for fear they may try to coax me back. Those two ladies have been our confidants in matters of the Railroad for a long time.”
“Oh, Cass,” said Miss Ketchum, “I feel so terrible.” She took the woman’s hand.
“No, no, dear.” She patted it in return. “Anyway, the house will go to Jerry and it will be wonderful for him and Aimee to raise their family there.”
“But Cass, you must inform your mother and Reverend Williams before we move on. You must pen a note and send it back with Mrs. Reilly and Miss Bay to deliver to them.”
The two women moved to one side of the room to work on the note, Cassandra dreading delivering such news to Miss Johnston’s family.
The day wore on. Mr. Evans had taken up position next to Cassandra and would not relinquish her company. They spoke about what he would do in Albany, how he would stay out of sight, go undercover, stay hidden from the Vanderhoff family and the police, in much the way they were hiding now, and if it became too difficult, he’d head to Canada for a while, or out to Kansas to see what could be done about the political situation there.
“Mrs. Reilly… Cassandra,” he said to her at last, talking low. “I have something to ask you and wonder if we might adjourn to the other room. I do not want to seem indelicate, but I would like to talk to you in private.”
She glanced at Evie and Caleb, their ankles entwined. Caleb’s hand was on Evie’s leg and she clutched it.
“At this point,” she observed, “I do not think delicacy is much of an issue.”
They rose and went into the women’s bedroom, Evie lifting an eyebrow at Cassandra as she passed. Mr. Evans closed the door and went to sit near the foot of her bed. She looked at him suspiciously.
“No, no, do not worry,” he said, “I do not have anything untoward in mind. Come sit here by me.”
She went and sat on his left side, allowing a good two feet of space between them. But he reached out and clasped her hands in his, taking her by surprise.
“Cassandra,” he said, “I want you to come with me.”
“What?” She tried to extract her hands from his grasp.
“No, listen,” he went on, moving closer, holding on to her. “Why shouldn’t you? Why not come and have an adventure with me? It will not be easy at first, I admit, but once I shake the Vanderhoffs, we can go and explore a new frontier. I need a strong woman like you. No, I mean to say…it is not that I need you,” he paused. “It is that I love you.”
“Oh dear,” she replied.
“Please, Cassandra,” he said, inching closer. “Do you not think we would be wonderful together? You are so intelligent, so worldly. You understand me like so few people do, and like no woman ever has, with the exception of my Marjory, but that was so long ago. We can send a message to your family and assure them that you will not be gone so very long. When the situation clears, we can move to Boston together.” Cassandra opened her mouth to speak, but he hurried on. “And as far as Miss Bay is concerned, she can manage without you, that one. She is quite the independent spirit. But you are just the woman I want by my side.”
She considered his hazel eyes, his tousled hair, his wry mouth. He was so attractive. A wave of tenderness came over her. She thought with amusement what it would be like to take him into the future. He actually might be able to understand the concept, someone as unconventional as he was.
He noticed the look in her eye, and took it for concession. “Oh Cassandra,” he uttered, drawing near. He put his arms around her waist, pulled her toward him, and kissed her. She gave herself up to the kiss. All thoughts were banished from her mind as his hands moved over her back. She brought her body up against his. He lay her down on the bed without taking his mouth away from hers. She clutched him. He positioned himself between her legs and pressed his hips into her. She felt his firmness. She pushed her breasts against his body and he caressed them over her clothing. He lifted her skirts as they kissed.
A thought formed in her head, gray and distant at first, then clearer as her skirts came up over her knees. She pushed the thought away. She wanted to keep kissing him. She wanted to make love to him. But back it came again, and then she saw Nick’s face clearly. She pushed Mr. Evans off and sat up gasping.
“What? What is it?” he cried.
“I cannot,” she replied, panting.
“Oh, I am sorry,” he said, straightening up his clothes. “I have been too bold.”
“No, that is not it. Well, yes, that too, but, well…there is someone else.”
“What!” he moved away from her.
“Yes, someone in Boston.”
“Are you betrothed?”
“Um, no—” Cassandra suddenly felt awash in confusion.
“Do you love him?”
“I…I do not know.”
“Cassandra,” he said, “do you or do you not love him? You are the only one who would know.”
Cassandra smoothed her skirt down, trying to think, trying to understand what was going on in her own mind. “I think I loved him once.”
“And then what? Did I have anything to do with changing your mind about him?”
“Actually, no,” she said, looking up at him. “No. He disappointed me of late. But I have not told him how I feel.”
“Are you in love with me?”
“I think…it is possible…that I am.”
He started to move in toward her again.
“But,” she put up her hand, “nevertheless, I cannot, I will not go with you.”
“But why not?” His eyes grew moist.
She sighed. Where to begin? “So many reasons. First, I must go and reconcile myself with him. I cannot just disappear, that would not be fair. Also, there is my family to consider…no, it is impossible. Besides that, Thaddeus,” he took her hands in his as she spoke his name, “I do not want to go out west. I am not cut out for that life. I may seem hardy—”
Mr. Evans laughed, “I said you were strong, not hardy.”
She smiled sadly. “You know that I support and admire what you do with every fiber of my being, but I have my life in Boston.”
“But what is more important than this work?”
“Truthfully, nothing. Yet, I suppose if I needed to give you one principal reason, besides my family, which is indeed the most important, it would be my music.” This, she thought, he would understand. “I am a musician. It is who I am, and I must stay connected to my music or I will wither. Going out west with you—who knows what we would encounter. Even if, as you say, we return in a few months, it is too long for me to be away from what I love most. What you do is to save lives—what I do saves my own.”
He looked at her tenderly. “I understand.” He said nothing for a moment as they looked into each other’s eyes. “May I come back and see you in Boston?”
Her face grew hot. “Hopefully.”
She felt a wave of regret. Her explanations seemed small and insignificant.
“Come,” he said standing and taking her hand. “Let us join the others.”
She rose, and he took her into his arms. She lifted her face to him and he kissed her again, long and deeply. “Oh!” she gasped when he released her. She put her hand to her hair. She couldn’t catch her breath. “You go on; I need a minute to collect myself.”
“Very well.” He smiled at her, kissed her hand, then left the room and closed the door.
She sat back on the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks. This was the agony of the time traveler. She had gone through it with Ben Johnston and had felt certain after that experience that she’d never go through anything like it again. She never even thought she’d travel again. She was beginning to regret that she had. Time traveling only reminded you that you could not change anything from the past no matter how terrible it was, no matter who was going to suffer or how. She couldn’t end slavery here and now, or stop the Civil War from happening, or stop Miss Johnston from breaking her family’s heart, or let Evie and Caleb be together, or protect Thaddeus from the slave catchers, if that were to be his fate. No matter who was going to suffer, or how much, she couldn’t stop it.
She lay down on the bed and cried until she had no more tears to shed. She pulled herself up, washed her face, and forced herself to open the door and walk into the next room. She took in the people sitting there. Mr. Evans looked up at her with a mixture of hope and sadness. Evie was bent over her knitting with fierce determination. Caleb met Cassandra’s gaze with a soft, mournful expression. Samuel stood, as he always did when a lady entered the room, and gave her his magnificent smile. Miss Johnston and Miss Ketchum had come back to the table and were sitting near each other quietly, waiting. They both looked up at her.
“Are you well, Mrs. Reilly, my dear?” Miss Johnston asked.
“Yes,” replied Cassandra, although her voice cracked.
There was a knock on the door, and everyone jumped. It was Mrs. Adams. “Carter is here!” she announced.
Everyone leapt up. Carter, Mr. Adams, and Emmanuel came in, hauling the luggage.
“Oh, thank God!” cried Evie.
“I think you had all best get cleaned up and changed for your journey,” Mrs. Adams advised. “When you are ready, we will move your things through the passage and out to the dock. When the boat comes, we must be ready to have you board without delay.”
The Time Heiress Page 21
