Until today, Christmas had never been a cause for much celebration in his life. But seated at this table, surrounded by his friends, he understood for the first time what the day ought to represent – friendship, laughter, celebration – the exchange of small, inexpensive gifts whose real value was in the love they illustrated.
The kitchen was unbelievably crowded.
Lars had built sturdy benches to extend the seating, and although there wasn’t room for so much as an elbow between bodies, no one minded at all.
“Tom, you vill ask the blessing, please?” Isabella’s unexpected request took him by surprise, and for a panicked moment, Tom couldn’t think of anything to say.
He looked around the crowded table for inspiration. Virgil smiled encouragement, his thin face and faded blue eyes stamped with the now-familiar gray tautness that brought a twinge of anxiety to Tom. Virgil’s cough had grown worse in the past weeks.
Next to Virgil was Eddy, his healthy little boy’s face flushed, he eyes glowing with the excitement of the day. He clutched the replica of a flashy ‘90s sports care that Tom had whittled and painted a dashing red.
Leona was next, her golden hair piled high, her rounded belly lending an earthy note to her beauty. Jackson, seated beside his wife, winked at Tom, delighted at his discomfiture.
Eli’s coppery hair was slicked down flat, and his bony wrists protruded from the cuffs of his shirt. He’d grown a good three inches in the past months. He was almost as tall as Tom, although his body hadn’t filled out to match the new found height. He’d been unusually quiet all day, and Tom wondered what was troubling him. He’d have to have a talk with him soon.
Beside Eli was Zelda, and Tom’s eyes lingered on her face. She was looking up at him expectantly, smiling her wide smile, her brown eyes soft, telegraphing her love.
His family. These people had become his family during the months he’d spent there, so far removed from the place and time he’d called home.
Tom had to clear his throat before he could manage the simple grace. “Thank you for good friends, good food, and a fine Christmas,” he said, and everyone joined in the amen.
“And may the New Year bring peace and happiness to all,” Virgil added, lifting his cup in a toast.
Jackson’s eyes skittered to meet Tom’s, and in the look they exchanged was the awful knowledge of the coming Slide. This very house would be gone, along with the others along Alberta Avenue, during that April night now only four months away.
And if their plans succeeded, they’d be gone as well that night--Jackson, Leona, himself.
Desolation swept over Tom, and he turned his head to look at Zelda, spooning the food into sleepy little Pearl’s mouth, laughing at something Isabella had just said, her face radiating life and spirit and energy.
He couldn’t leave her.
He couldn’t stay with her.
“Tom, you still gonna try and get back to that place you came from, when the end of April comes?”
It was a cold, sunny morning in mid-March, and Tom and Eli had gotten up at the crack of dawn to climb to a nearby lake, so high in the mountains that it was still frozen over. They cut holes in the mushy ice and did their best to catch enough fish for Sunday dinner the following day.
“Yeah, I am, Eli.”
“Dad said you wanted us to try and come along, him and me and Zelda.”
Tom’s breath made a cloud of frost around him. “Yeah, I did. Still do, matter of fact. But your dad doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I want to come, Tom.”
Tom checked the line that disappeared into the hole in the ice. One end was tied to his hand, and it didn’t need checking; he’d know in an instant if a fish took the hook. Eli’s words had taken him by surprise, and he needed a moment to think. “You’d be leaving your family behind, Eli. Your dad won’t come, and Zelda won’t either, without Virgil. If the plan works, chances are good you’d never see them again.”
“I want to go anyways.” Eli’s face was stubborn. “I want to see all the things you’ve told me about, the cars and planes and those video things, and rollerblades and laptops and rock groups. Besides, you told me you left home when you were fifteen, and you never saw your family again.”
Obviously, Tom decided, he’d talked far too much. “The circumstances were different with me, Eli. I didn’t come from a family like yours, one where people care about each other.”
“Huh.” Eli yanked up his line hand over hand, his mittens stiff with ice, his movements jerky. “If Zelda really cared about me, she wouldn’t try and make me do what she wants all the time.”
Tom noticed that Eli’s voice, which only a few months before had tended to wander from bass to soprano in the space of one sentence, was now even and deep. He’d started shaving after Christmas, and his face was now that of a young man instead of a boy. The peevishness of boyhood was also gone, replaced by a quiet steadiness, but along with it there was anger.
“If she really cared, she’d listen when I tell her how much I hate school, and that I don’t want to go to that sissy college she’s got picked out back East. But I can’t seem to make her hear me.”
“You know she cares, Eli. She wants the best for you, that’s all it is.” Tom knew his words were ineffectual at best. “If you don’t want to go to college, then what do you want to do? D’you still want to work in the mines, or what? Have you thought about it?”
“I’ve been underground a few times. Smiley took me so I could see what it was like, and I guess it’s not where I want to work.” He hesitated, then said, “I think I’d like to be a Mounted Policeman.” His voice was tentative. “I’ve thought about it, and I figure I’d like that a lot.”
Tom was surprised, but when he considered it, he understood. The North West Mounted, in this early period, embodied adventure and romance. If he were Eli’s age, he’d probably opt for a career as a mounted soldier , too.
“Have you told Zelda?”
Eli shrugged. “I tried. She won’t hear of it, not unless I go to college first.” His voice was scornful. “As if a fellow needs college to be one of the North West Mounted. I’ll be seventeen next October. I’ve talked to Constable Liard, and he told me I can start right here in Frank if I want, taking care of the horses and running errands. Then I can be a trumpeter and stable boy at one of the forts, and when I’m eighteen I’d get to be a subconstable, and I could work up from there. Zel had a conniption fit when I mentioned it. I told her if I went away I’d send my wages home and everything, to help out, but she said if I tried it, she’d make them send me back. She could too, until I’m eighteen. Constable Liard said I’d need a signature before they’d take me on, and I don’t think Dad would agree unless Zelda did. So the only thing left to do is go with you.”
Tom knew he was standing on thin ice in more ways than one.
“Eli, you know that Zelda would never agree to letting you come with me, not in a million years.”
Eli darted a quick look at Tom’s face, and when he caught his eye, looked away again, concentrating on the fishing line. “I didn’t actually plan on telling her.”
Tom struggled to keep his tone mild, his voice even. “That would be a cruel thing to do, not just to Zelda, but to your father as well.”
“Dad would understand.” But the words were less certain. “I think he would, anyhow. Before he got sick, he used to stand up for me with Zel. He used to tell her to let me make up my own mind about things. But now, he seems too tired to argue with her. He’s not strong anymore, not like he used to be.”
A terrible sense of helplessness welled in Tom at the thought of Virgil. The older man was very sick again, confined to his bed, coughing endlessly in spite of the bottles of foul-smelling medicine the doctor dropped off regularly. He’d finally told the boss at the mine that he wouldn’t be coming back.
“Is my dad going to die, Tom?” Eli’s voice was quiet, but there was a tremor in it. “He never gets over that cough, and he seems to j
ust get weaker and weaker all the time. It’s all he can do to get out of bed to go to the outhouse some days.”
Tom’s heart sank. He’d been expecting and dreading the questions, and none of the answers he’d mentally prepared seemed right now that Eli had asked it.
“We all die at some point, Eli. Nobody knows for sure when. Your dad’s got a strong body, and he’s a fighter.”
But no one could fight long when their lungs were destroyed.
“If we could get him to the future, could the doctors there maybe help him?” There was a stark appeal in Eli’s voice, and again, it was a question Tom had asked himself countless times. The answer was never conclusive.
“They might be able to. The can do lots of things that they can’t do now, even lung transplants. But people still die, Eli, then or now. I just couldn’t say for sure.”
There was silence for a long time. The afternoon was swiftly fading into early twilight. A pale blue mist settled over the lake, and dark snow clouds began to gather over the top of Turtle Mountain.
Tom squinted up at them and pulled his line free of the water. “It’s time we packed it in and went home, kid. Looks like it might be going to storm, and we got four fish. Not bad for a day’s work.”
They were halfway home when Eli spoke again. “I wanna tell you something, Tom, but I gotta be sure you won’t tell Zelda.”
Being Eli’s confidant wasn’t easy. Tom sighed and promised.
“I quit school, Tom. I haven’t gone more’n a couple days a week since Christmas, and for two weeks now not at all.”
Tom tried not to show how concerned he was at that revelation. “Where’ve you been spending your time?”
Eli shrugged. “Around. With some guys I know. We built this cabin in the bush over by the river. And I’ve been working extra at the picking tables whenever I can.”
Tom knew hours of idle time for a teenager could spell big trouble. “How come Zelda hasn’t found out you’re not in school?”
“Our teacher for the advanced class, Mr. Beebe, left at Christmas and didn’t come back. His dad was ailing or something. The new teacher doesn’t care who’s in class and who’s not.” Eli sneered. “He’s corned half the time. He doesn’t even take attendance. That’s why I need to come along with you and Jackson, Tom. There’s nothin’ for me to do in this place.” He drew a ragged breath. “Please say I can come.”
“You’d have to have permission before Jackson or I would let you even try, Eli.”
“Shit!” The expletive was explosive. “No matter what I want to do, there’s some reason why I can’t do it. I feel just like a prisoner, like I’m in jail or somethin’.”
“Your family cares about you.” Tom’s voice was sharp. “You should be glad they take an interest in what you do with your life.”
“Yeah, well, Zelda doesn’t seem to realize it is my life.”
Tom didn’t reply. There didn’t seem to be anything he could say to Eli that would ease his frustration, and he’d given the boy his word that he wouldn’t tell Zelda.
Talking to Zelda about her brother didn’t solve a damned thing anyway. Each time the subject arose, it seemed to precipitate a quarrel between them, and the last thing he wanted was to quarrel with her. He was all too aware that the time they had left to spend together was growing shorter with each passing day.
Maybe he’d have a talk with Jackson about Eli. Jackson cared about the kid. Maybe together they could figure out a way to keep him out of trouble.
A Distant Echo: Chapter Thirty
“Tom, old buddy, long time no see.”
A week after the fishing trip, Jackson was waiting when Tom came out of the washhouse. He’d just worked the night shift at the mine, and he blinked like an owl in the brilliant sunlight.
“You wanna grab some breakfast over at the hotel? I need to talk.”
“Sounds good. I’ve got some things I want to hash over with you, too.”
The table Jackson chose was in a private corner, reserved for hotel staff. Tom cradled the steaming mug of coffee between his palms, squinting at this friend. The bone-deep tiredness that came after working a ten-hour shift underground was creeping over him.
He’d listen to what Jackson had to say first, he decided. That would give him a chance to eat and maybe wake up a little. Then he’d bring up the subject of Eli.
“So what’s shakin’, partner? Leona’s okay?”
Jackson grinned and gave him a mock salute with his cup. “Damn, it’s good to hear you use new-fashioned slang. If we ever get back home, I’m gonna have to take a crash course. Leona’s in the best of health, gettin’ a nice round belly on her. She sends her regards.” He waited until their heaping plates were in front of them and the waiter had moved away.
Tom turned his attention to the flapjacks and bacon and eggs on his plate, pouring syrup over everything and attacking it with honest hunger.
“I want you to refresh my memory on that gold shipment, Tom.”
“Gold shipment?” Tom frowned, his tired brain unable to make the connection.
“That damned gold shipment that landed us here in the first place. The Klondike gold that was stolen and buried somewhere here.” Jackson sounded impatient. “Fill me in on all the details again, okay?”
Tom chewed a mouthful and swallowed, washing it down with coffee. “It was the last of the large gold shipments out of the Klondike,” he recalled. “It arrived in Vancouver in mid-April, 1903.” He shook his head and gave Jackson a wry grin. “Two weeks from now,” he amended. “It’ll be fired into gold bars, and secretly shipped via Canadian Pacific Railway across the country to be deposited in the Eastern banks.” It was strange to think that the events hadn’t happened yet.
“The research I did showed that three men ambush the train in a narrow canyon just west of here.” Tom took another hefty swig from his cup. It was confusing, trying to tell the story in the present tense. He decided to tell it the way he remembered it best, as if it had already happened.
“One of the guards recognized the leader of the gang, identifying him as our friend, Bill Miner. The other man was Lewis Schraeger, and the third remained unidentified. As you know, Bill, better known as the Grey Fox, because of his ability to slip away from the law, was wanted on both sides of the border for similar robberies. The police discovered later that Miner had lived quietly right here in Frank for some time, using the alias of George Edwards, working as a land surveyor.”
“He actually does work as a surveyor, y’know. He’s good at it too,” Jackson commented. “Says some dude in San Quentin taught him the trade. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No problem.” Tom took up the story again. “The night they took the gold, Turtle Mountain did its thing, and the authorities concluded that Miner and the unidentified third man must have died in the avalanche, because they were never seen or heard from again. Lewis Schraeger was eventually arrested in Montana for cattle rustling and charged with the murder of a rancher. He was sentenced to twenty years in San Quentin, questioned numerous times about the train robbery, and offered a lesser sentence if he told what he knew. But although he admitted knowing Bill Miner, he refused to talk about the robbery or the location of the hidden gold. He had TB, Dr. Lawrence attended him, and the minute Schraeger was cold, Lawrence left the prison service and came here to Frank.”
“But Lawrence never located the stuff?”
Tom shook his head. “I’d hoped those diaries Evelyn Lawrence had would shed some light on the whole thing, but…” He glanced around and shrugged. “You know the rest. We ended up here, doing field research instead.”
Jackson rested his elbows on the table, his face animated. “I’ve figgered out why Lawrence never found the damned gold, Tom.”
“Lay it on me then.” Tom yawned and signaled the waiter for another coffee refill. “But you better make it quick. I’m going home to bed in another five minutes. I’m beat.” He nodded his thanks to the waiter and sipped the strong br
ew.
Jackson waited impatiently until they were alone again. “Lawrence couldn’t find it because the gold was gone.” He paused, his voice filled with excitement. “Don’t you get it? We knew where it was, and we either dug it up the minute we got back to our own time, or we took it with us here and used it as a grubstake to finance a new business for ourselves. But my money’s on us gettin’ back to the future and diggin’ it up.”
Tom shook his head. “You’ve lost me. How could we do either?”
“Easy. It makes perfect sense. It came to me when I was havin’ a game of cards with Miner last night after the saloon closed. Leona asked me if she could tell him about us, about the robbery and the Slide and all, and I couldn’t see any harm in it. I was there when she did, but the peculiar thing was that Bill didn’t seem to know diddly about that Klondike shipment. Never heard of it until Leona told him, insisted he doesn’t have any contacts anymore on the railway. He’s been fixin’ to retire, plannin’ on takin’ a boat to Europe next summer. Leona was gonna go with him till I came along. He even talked Schraeger into takin’ a job on some ranch out in the valley. That’s why we haven’t seen him around. Leona says Schraeger’s dumb as a stump. Bill has all he can do to keep him out of trouble.”
“So what?” Tom was weary. All he could think of was getting back to the house and collapsing into a bed for a few hours. “Bill probably heard about the shipment at the last minute and changed his mind about retiring. Who knows how it happened? It did, which is all that matters.”
“I know. Just calm yourself a minute and I’ll explain. Like I said, we got talkin’ about it last night, him and me. I get along real good with old Bill. He’s a true gentleman. Anyhow, he asked all sorts of things about this robbery he was supposed to have pulled off, the exact time and place, the way he stopped the train. You know any of the exact details, Tom?”
“Quite a few, I guess. I found copies of the reports the guards made of the robbery, and there were references to it in other material I had.”
Now and Forever: Time Travel Romance Superbundle Page 88
