After dressing, Lizzie wandered into the dining room, intent on finding something to eat. Father was seated at the table. Normally, he would have already left for work. She averted her gaze, darting toward the kitchen.
“Lizzie,” Father said. “I know you’re upset but hear me out.”
She stopped, fists clenched at her sides.
“Unless you plan to tell me you were wrong, and you insist on driving me to St. Louis so that you can apologize to Jeremiah, then I have nothing to say to you.”
“If that’s what it will take,” Father said, “Get yourself something to eat and we’ll leave in the next half hour.”
Lizzie’s mouth dropped. “You’re serious?”
Father nodded. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. I shouldn’t have interfered. Your mother was right, Jeremiah is a good man, and with the love of a good woman by his side, a good man can do anything.”
She almost ran to hug him but reminded herself that his actions were the reason she was in this situation to begin with. “I’ll be ready.”
What should have taken less than four hours to drive, took closer to six because they didn’t have the interstates and faster speed to travel. The first hour-and-a-half, Lizzie worked on her quilt until sleepiness overtook her and she dosed off until Father woke her for directions in the city.
By the time they arrived at Jeremiah’s house, her heart beat faster than the tune to The Little Drummer Boy.
“Wait here,” Lizzie said. “I’ll go talk to him first.”
Lizzie tucked strands of her long brown hair behind her ear, silently wishing she’d had time to make herself more presentable.
Jeremiah’s parents’ home was a fourth the size of the house she lived in now. Lizzie had been inside, and even upstairs to where the two small bedrooms and an equally tiny area between the rooms that served as Jeremiah’s bedroom. To her, they were tiny houses before their time, or maybe they had just become popular again in the future. She climbed the stairs to the older, home and knocked on the grayish-blue wooden door.
The minutes ticked by slowly before Jeremiah’s younger brother, Nehemiah, answered the door. “Lizzie?”
Nehemiah looked a lot like Jeremiah, except his face was fuller and he was an inch shorter. It was obvious he was surprised to see her by his stunned silence and dropped-jaw.
The surprise on Nehemiah’s face concerned Lizzie. “Can I speak with Jeremiah?”
“He’s gone, Lizzie.” Nehemiah’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “He took a train last night and said he took on a longer run. He said wouldn’t be able to make it home for a long while but would send money to help out.”
Air whooshed out of Lizzie’s lung, making her chest tighten. “He didn’t tell you which route he was going to be working on?”
“No.”
“I’ve got to speak with him, Nehemiah.” Lizzie took a step closer to Jeremiah’s brother, her eyes boring into his. “Father’s had a change of heart. He even came to apologize.”
Nehemiah looked past Lizzie, to where Father was waiting in the car. “I don’t know what to say, Lizzie.” Nehemiah’s eyes softened as he met her gaze. “I promise I’ll tell him as soon as we hear from him, but he was pretty upset when he left. It may be a while before I can get word to him.”
A tear trickled down her cheek.
“Don’t lose heart, Lizzie.” Nehemiah squeezed her shoulders gently. “Jeremiah will be so excited to hear the news. He loves you and he’ll wait for you. I’m sure of it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Warrensburg, Missouri – December 1904
T he days ticked by into weeks, and even months with no word from Jeremiah. Summer had passed, and winter was fast approaching.
Mother’s curtains and the fabric Lizzie needed to finish the quilt had arrived much later than expected because of all the orders that had been sold at the World’s Fair. Lizzie had even visited the fair before Thanksgiving, hoping maybe Jeremiah’s aunt would have seen or heard from him. Nehemiah told her that his brother continued to send money home but hadn’t been in touch. He’d asked some of the other men who worked the rail to relay a message to Jeremiah if they saw him.
Lizzie’s heart was torn between holding out hope to see Jeremiah again, or praying to go home if they couldn’t be together. Each stitch she sewed brought her closer to having to make a decision of how she wanted to spend her future. She couldn’t bear the thought of being stuck in the past without Jeremiah.
“Lizzie, Lizzie,” Mary Margaret and Olivia’s squeals sounded through the house before they came bursting into her bedroom.
She saw Mother coming down the hall through the open door. Lizzie put the needle into a pin cushion and set her quilt aside.
“What’s wrong?” she asked Mother as she walked into the room.
“There’s a letter, Lizzie.” Mother held out an envelope for her to take. “Your young man has finally written.”
“He what?” Lizzie stammered, taking the letter in her trembling hand. She opened it and began to read.
Dear Lizzie,
Please forgive me for leaving so abruptly in July. After speaking with your father, I was heartbroken that he refused to give his blessing. I have just received news that your father changed his mind and is willing to allow me to court you.
I have talked to my boss and they will let me go back to my old route on the railroad in another week or two. You don’t know how much I worried that you’d finished your quilt and gone away. Please give me a chance to make up for the heartache my absence has caused you. I expect to be home before Christmas and look forward to seeing you.
All my love,
Jeremiah
“He’s coming home.” Lizzie smiled and clutched the letter to her chest. “He’ll be here before Christmas.”
“That’s wonderful news, Lizzie,” Mother said.
“Yeah,” Mary Margaret squealed.
Olivia’s eyes widened. “Is he bringing us presents for Christmas?”
It was funny the way children’s minds worked. Lizzie laughed. “I think his coming home is the best gift we could ask for.”
Lizzie knew what gift she would give Jeremiah for Christmas—she’d give him the quilt, a sign that she would rather stay here with him. Her heart flooded with warmth. She’d finish it tonight before bed.
Warrensburg, Missouri – December 17, 1904
Saturday afternoon, Lizzie draped the crazy quilt across her bed so that she could admire her work while she wrapped Christmas presents. It had taken her many months to find and retrieve the fabrics needed for the quilt and to hand stitch it together. She felt a sense of accomplishment but was even more excited to be giving the quilt away to Jeremiah.
If you had told her back in April that she would want to stay here, she would have thought it a cruel joke. While she missed her family, her time here with Jeremiah had helped her heart to mend. Geoff’s betrayal no longer mattered, because he didn’t matter. Lizzie had managed to find love again, in the strangest place—the past.
Lizzie smiled as she laid the adorable curly brunette-haired rag doll on the red wrapping paper and folded the sides over, before taping them together.
A heavy knock sounded on her bedroom door. Her heart raced. “Mary Margaret or Olivia, if either of you open that door you’re not going to get any presents come Christmas morning.”
Mother had promised to keep them busy while Lizzie wrapped their presents. The girls were as excited as any child who’d just been told they were having a snow day. They could hardly be contained.
“Lizzie, it’s me,” Mother said. “Someone is here to see you.”
Jeremiah?
“I’ll be right there.” She hurried and finished taping the wrapping paper so that Olivia wouldn’t be able to sneak a peek while Lizzie was visiting. Her heart raced. Jeremiah had said he’d be back before Christmas. Lizzie was beginning to wonder how much longer he was going to make her wait.
Lizzie stopped in front of the mirror
and ran her brush through her hair, adding a fresh coat of lipstick before rubbing her lips together. It had been so long since she’d shared a kiss with Jeremiah. She wondered if Mother would gasp if she kissed him in front of her. She giggled at the thought and smiled even wider at her reflection before smoothing the long layers of her green dress.
Opening the door, she practically scurried down the hall to the sitting room. She stopped short. “Thomas? Where’s Jeremiah?”
His face was downcast. When he looked up, she noticed he’d been crying.
Air whooshed from her lungs. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s been an accident, Lizzie,” Thomas said. “The train derailed. Twenty-nine people were killed and numerous were injured.”
“Jeremiah was injured?” Lizzie’s words were barely a whisper.
Thomas shook his head. A tear rolled down his cheek. “No, Lizzie, he’s…”
“Dead?” She shook her head. “No, it can’t be…it can’t be.” The room began to swirl.
Father caught her as her body slumped. “Let me help you to the settee.”
Lizzie sat there numb, leaning on the arm of the seat. Tears trickled down her cheeks.
“He was on his way back,” Thomas said, “coming to see you.”
A chill ran up her spine. Did Jeremiah die because of her?
“I don’t feel well.” Lizzie rubbed her arms and laid her head against the arm of the settee, curling her legs up. Numbness overtook her as she stared blankly, still unable to comprehend Jeremiah’s death. “I just can’t—”
She felt so cold but couldn’t move.
Her mind tried to formulate images of her time with Jeremiah. Lizzie hadn’t seen him since July. Hope had given her something to hold onto—a reason to stay connected to her surroundings, but now…
The weight coupled with a sense of warmth drew her attention as she realized Father had covered her up. It took a moment more for the pattern of the quilt to register. He’d taken the quilt off of her bed. Fresh tears streamed down her face as she drew the quilt up over her shoulder, burying herself beneath its warmth. Jeremiah would have liked her gift, but now that he wasn’t coming back, it served only to remind her off her loss.
Chapter Nineteen
Warrensburg, Missouri – Present Day
D aylight streaming through the window made Lizzie squint. Her emotions were spent. She’d apparently fallen asleep on the settee. Lizzie stretched. Her eyes flew open. She shot up into a sitting position and looked around. The quilt was still covering her, but she wasn’t in the sitting room any more.
“Grandma Mullane? Grandma Bader?” Lizzie hopped out of bed and ran to the living room.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Grandma Mullane asked.
They were both watching TV.
“You’re both here.” Lizzie blinked several times.
“Of course, we’re here.” Grandma Bader glanced at her. “Don’t worry about lunch. I made us soup and sandwiches.”
“Lunch?” Lizzie was confused.
“Yes, you were going to make us something to eat before you had to go to the train station.” Grandma Bader looked at the cuckoo clock on the wall above the television. She paused her show and set the remote down on the coffee table. “Your train will be leaving in a little over an hour. Why don’t you sit down and talk for a few minutes? You look a little pale and your eyes are puffy, like you were crying.”
“I was,” Lizzie admitted as she took a seat in the leather, cream wingback chair. “It seemed so real.”
“Oh, my.” Grandma Mullane nudged Grandma Bader and pointed at Lizzie. “She looks like she’s about to cry.”
Lizzie wiped at the rebellious tear as it trickled down her cheek. “I’m fine.”
“Maybe you’d feel better if you told us about your dream,” Grandma Mullane suggested.
“You’ll think this weird, but I actually dreamed about Great-great-grandma Ambrewster.” She laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. “That I was back in 1904 and I had the make the quilt in order to get back home.”
“Obviously you did since you’re here.” Grandma Bader chuckled. “Ambrewster was her maiden name. She went on to marry Charles Lillingston.”
Lizzie had forgotten what Grandma Mullane’s maiden name was. At least her great-great grandmother had been able to move on. Lizzie decided not to go into too much detail about her dream. She didn’t want to relive Jeremiah’s death. The loss felt so real.
She did enjoy spending time with the little girls in her dream. “Her two younger sisters, Olivia and Mary Margaret were adorable.”
“How did you know about my aunts?” Great-grandma Mullane asked. “I must have mentioned my mother’s sisters before.”
Lizzie’s eyes widened. Maybe she had. She really couldn’t remember.
“We best let Lizzie get ready, Mother, or she’ll miss her train.” Grandma Mullane stood. “I’ve got a book I promised to let your mother read if you don’t mind taking it to her for me.”
“I’d be happy to.” Lizzie followed her grandmother to the other room to retrieve the book, before going to pack the rest of her things in her duffel bag and grabbing her quilt.
Heaviness weighed heavily on her heart as she said her goodbyes and went to the train station. The stone building was an older version of the past. Had her mind conjured a cleaner, newer version of the depot? Did she only have the dream because of her grandmother giving her the quilt?
By far the most vivid dream she ever had in her life. Whatever the reason for the dream, Lizzie felt she had finally moved past her hurt and was able to open her heart again, just as her great-great-grandmother was finally able to do as well. So, if Grandma Mullane had intended for her mother’s story to help Lizzie get over Geoff—it worked.
“All aboard,” announced over a speaker in the train station drew Lizzie’s attention. She hurried outside with her things, ticket in hand, and climbed the few steps to board the train.
As she walked down the narrow aisle, her gaze locked with an incredible pair of brown eyes. “Jeremiah?”
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” he asked.
Lizzie smiled. “You used to.”
“That sounds like a story I need to hear.” His laughter echoed in her ears. “Perhaps you would like to join me, and you could tell me your name and how you know me.” He stood and allowed her room to pass him to sit at the window seat. “Please tell me you’re not a social media stalker.”
She giggled nervously. “Um, no. I promise, but you might find it kind of weird.”
“Well, I’ve got three or four hours to kill before the train reaches St. Louis.”
Tiny bursts of electricity tingled through her body. “I live in St. Louis too.”
“You don’t say.” His left eyebrow arched slightly, and his smile melted her heart. “I’m afraid I don’t know what to call you, other than beautiful.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. “My name’s Lizzie.”
“Obviously, you already know my name is Jeremiah.” He took her hand as if to shake it, but just held it. “So where have we met before? The train?”
Lizzie smiled. He’d never believe her if she told him. Although, he had believed her in her dream. She rubbered her hand over the quilt, tracing the flower patterns with her index finger. “Do you see the navy-blue centers of these flowers?”
He nodded when she glanced at him.
“They were from a torn pair of work pants that Jeremiah Hopkins wore when he worked on the train.”
“Wait a minute.” His eyes scrunched as lips twisted. “You’re saying that fabric came from my namesake, my great-great uncle?”
“Yes,” Lizzie said. “My great-great grandmother was in love with him and had planned to marry him.”
“You’re Elizabeth Ambrewster?” Jeremiah stared at her in disbelief. “We were just talking about her and how my great-grandfather spoke of how he went away when he thought her father wouldn’t let them marry.”
“You were t
alking about me? I mean her,” Lizzie corrected herself, still feeling disorientated by her dream.
“Well, I was named after him, so it’s a story that’s kind of passed down over the years.” Jeremiah ran his hand through his wavy brown hair. It was shorter on the sides than his great-great grandfather’s.
Lizzie longed to reach out and touch it. Time was surreal. It seemed like months since she’d seen him, touched him, yet she’d only just woken from her nap over an hour ago.
Over the next few hours they shared stories of each other’s families and talked as if they’d known each other their whole lives and were just catching up over ‘old times’.
“Our stop is coming soon,” Jeremiah said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The action sending a surge of warmth through her. “Do you think we could maybe have dinner sometime? I’d love for you to meet my family.”
His family? As odd as it sounded, it made sense. Their families were connected in a strange sense, and perhaps this was the time for their story. But the sense of loss still weighed heavily on her.
“I will, on one condition,” Lizzie said.
“Now you really have me curious.” Jeremiah leaned closer. His breath was warm against her ear. “What’s your one condition?”
“We can’t have history repeating itself,” Lizzie breath was ragged. “Promise me you’ll never ride the train again.”
“For the mere price of a kiss, and dinner of course,” he added, “I promise I’ll never ride the train again. After all, I’d much prefer a long car ride alone with you, where we can hold hands without two little girls watching.”
Her heart pounded. Lizzie turned to look in the direction he was motioning with his head. She laughed, realizing she half-expected Olivia and Mary Margaret to be seated behind them.
A Stitch in Time Page 9
