by Bess McBride
“I would not believe it could be possible, but I think the conductor is up and about at this hour. I fear I was seen.”
Amanda eyed the water with concern and surreptitiously put it on a side table while Nathan pulled aside the curtain on the door’s window and peered out. Was the water even treated?
“What’s the worst they can do to us?” she asked. “Make us pay, right?”
Nathan dropped the curtain and turned to eye her with a rueful expression.
“I don’t know. I cannot say that I have ever ridden a passenger train in my time without purchasing a ticket.”
Despite Amanda’s best efforts to block Nathan’s view, he saw the glass of water.
“You are not thirsty?”
“Me? Oh, no, I’m fine. Thank you for the water though.” What did they drink in these days anyway? To hydrate safely. What had she read? Wine? Beer? Oh, gosh, she’d be a lush before she managed to get back to her time. Which she fully intended to do.
“I don’t think it is wise for me to attempt to procure you some tea which I know you enjoy.”
“I do?” Amanda said. “I don’t drink tea.” She bit her lip. Well, maybe she did if the alternative was untreated water. “Oh, maybe I do,” she murmured. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”
Nathan held a finger to his lips again, and a loud knock sounded on the door. He grimaced and stepped back.
“You in there, sir! Come out! This is the conductor,” a loud voice boomed from the hallway.
Amanda jumped up. Conductors in her day didn’t shout at the doors of sleeping compartments. Her palms broke out in a sweat. She felt distinctly like a criminal. Were they going to be arrested or something?
“Open the door, man. I know you’re in there. I saw you enter. This compartment is vacant.”
Nathan turned to her with a wry smile and shook his head.
“I’m afraid we have little choice, Amanda,” Nathan said in a low voice. “Short of engaging in a public spectacle, I think I must open the door. Here, take my coat. It is long enough to cover you.”
“Just a moment,” Nathan called out.
He shrugged out of his dark coat and draped it around her shoulders where it hung warm and heavy. Amanda slipped her arms through the sleeves to find the cuffs fell way below her hands The coat reached to her shins.
“I look as indigent as you now,” she whispered. “Well, let him in.”
Nathan unlocked the door and pulled it open.
The conductor, a tall burly man whose booming voice matched his frame, stepped in, leaving the door open behind him. He scanned them from head to toe, studying their clothing with raised brows. He nodded a greeting in her direction, barely, but she sensed he didn’t think much of her and didn’t think she belonged in the luxurious sleeping compartment.
“Let me see your tickets, please. I have no one assigned to this compartment.”
Amanda looked to Nathan.
“I am afraid we have no tickets, Conductor. There is no point in lying. We boarded the train in Spokane.”
“Without purchasing tickets? You can’t do that in the sleeping compartments. You must buy tickets in advance.”
Nathan nodded. “Yes, I know. I apologize.”
“Well, you and your wife have to get off at the next stop.”
“Get off?” Amanda said. “Wait! I have money. I can pay now.” She stuck her hand inside her purse. Nathan laid a restraining hand on her and she turned to stare at him.
“No, I am sorry. My...er...wife is mistaken. She does not have any money after all. I am afraid I spent it yesterday, dear, on our hotel.”
“What? No, I do—”
Nathan’s hand tightened on hers. “And I am afraid I also do not have funds to cover the costs of the sleeper or indeed of any ticket, even in tourist class. However, I can rectify that once we reach Seattle. I would be happy to reimburse the train company.”
The conductor shook his head, clearly believing neither one of them.
“No, I’m sorry, that won’t be possible. You must detrain in Wenatchee.”
“Wenatchee? But I thought we had passed Wenatchee,” Nathan said. He threw a surprised look in Amanda’s direction.
“No, sir—” The conductor caught himself. “No, not yet. We should arrive in a few minutes. If you would follow me.” He scanned the room behind them. “No luggage?”
That was the death toll as far as Amanda was concerned. There was no way now to convince him that they weren’t vagabonds without luggage.
“No,” Nathan replied shortly. He stood back to allow Amanda to precede him while the conductor waited in the hallway.
Waiting until the conductor turned his back to lead the way, Amanda hissed under her breath, “Why did you stop me from giving him some money?”
“We cannot offer them money. Your currency is printed in the future, as is the money in my pocket,” he whispered.
The conductor stopped at the end of the car just as the train slowed. He opened the back door, and Amanda wondered if he were going to toss them from the train. She grabbed Nathan’s hand and hung on.
But the conductor simply leaned over the edge of the train and waved toward the front as if to signal the engineer when to stop. The train came to a halt with a screech of the wheels, and the conductor turned to them.
“Because your wife is present, sir, I will hold my tongue, but don’t let me see you on the train again without a proper ticket. And if you know what’s good for you, I suggest you avoid the train altogether for a while. I will alert the authorities next time, and you will be arrested. Both of you.”
Amanda clamped her mouth shut, aware that her jaw had dropped open at the severity of his words. She looked up to see Nathan nod though his eyes narrowed. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking given that the beard often hid his expressions.
The conductor turned away and opened the door of the sleeping car before stepping back.
“Off you go then. See to it you don’t try this again, you two.”
“Your customer service skills stink,” Amanda muttered as she allowed Nathan to help her down to the wooden platform of the station.
“What’s that?” the conductor asked in a prickly tone. He took two steps down the stairs, and Nathan snatched Amanda away from him as if he meant to boot her.
“No need for that, Conductor. My wife is tired and overwrought. Thank you for not turning us over to the authorities.”
Amanda snorted.
“Stop aggravating him, my love. He can still call the authorities,” Nathan hissed. He nodded toward the conductor and pulled Amanda away toward the station.
“Where are we going?” Amanda asked. A delightfully sweet smell filled the air, surprising given the strong smell of coal emanating from the smoke stacks on the train. “What is that smell?” she asked.
“Apples. Boxes and boxes of apples awaiting shipment,” Nathan replied, nodding toward wooden crates stacked on the edge of the platform which were barely visible under the faint light from the station.
“The apple capital of the United States!” Amanda chirped. She remembered Wenatchee had styled itself as such.
“And we shall see ourselves picking apples on a chain gang if I do not convince the station agent to allow me to telegraph for funds without actually paying for the telegram.”
Chapter Four
Of course, Nathan was jesting, but he did wonder how he was going to convince the station agent to let him send a telegram. He knew he looked disreputable and shady, and probably much like a hobo. The conductor’s contemptuous treatment of them had been proof enough of his appearance.
He looked down at Amanda, still eyeing the boxes of apples. In an effort to cover her limbs with his oversized coat, he had transformed her also into a woman who appeared to have little means.
No other passengers had descended from the train, leaving the platform devoid of activity. No people milled about on the platform, no baggage was loaded, no porters helped passeng
ers load.
“We must hurry,” Nathan urged. “I am afraid the agent will close the station at any moment as the hour is late, and there are no passengers awaiting other trains.”
Amanda allowed herself to be towed into the station, a long one-story wooden building butted up to the platform. Nathan settled her onto a wooden bench in the modest waiting room while he hurried up to the agent who eyed them curiously from behind an iron-grilled ticket counter.
“Excuse me, sir. I wonder if you would consider allowing me to send a telegram. I have lost my wallet with my money, and I need to have funds wired to me here in Wenatchee.”
The agent, a slender elderly man, eyed him wearily. He shook his head.
“I’m closing down the station. Come back tomorrow morning after 10 o’clock.”
“Sir, my...wife is tired. Forgive my persistence, but we have traveled a long way and have nowhere to stay tonight. Please allow me at least to send the telegram. The earlier I send it, the sooner I will receive some funds.”
The agent hesitated, looked over Nathan’s shoulder toward Amanda and sighed. “That’ll be fifty cents,” he said.
“Yes, thank you. The thing is though that I have lost my wallet and do not have the fifty cents. I wonder if you could trust me to reimburse you when my bank wires the money to me.”
The agent laughed without mirth and shook his head. “No, sir. I cannot do that, I’m sorry.”
Nathan wanted to shake the man, but he drew a deep breath and thanked his lucky stars Amanda was not standing beside him to make matters worse with some acerbic comment regarding customer skills. He turned on the charm.
“My good man, surely you see that I am in a difficult position. I cannot pay for the telegram without funds, and I cannot acquire funds without sending for them. If you do not have sympathy for me, please think of my wife. She cannot sleep on the station platform once you close the station, which is what I think you wish to do.”
Amanda, apparently wondering what was occurring, stood and approached. Nathan turned to look at her. She did look rather wan and tired as well as very confused.
“As you see, she is exhausted. We have traveled a long way.” Nathan hoped Amanda would follow his lead. Smart girl that she was, she did.
“Yes, I’m very tired. About to drop on my feet,” she mumbled. Nathan wasn’t certain that she was pretending. The station agent scratched his ear as he stared at them.
“All right then,” the agent muttered at length. “Quickly now, write your message down.” He thrust a pad of paper toward Nathan.
“Thank you, good sir!” Nathan hastily dictated a telegram to his bank, hoping they had not frozen his accounts over the past year. He did not wish to send anything to his grandfather or friends just yet as he wanted to see them in person to explain his whereabouts for the past year.
The station agent sat down at a desk to send the telegram while Nathan watched.
“There! It’s gone,” the agent said. “Now, mister, you and your missus will have to leave. I’m closing the station.” His voice brooked no argument as he came out of the ticket office and ushered them toward the door.
“Do you know of any nearby rooming houses? A hotel? Somewhere with food?” Nathan asked. He held out his hand to help Amanda to her feet.
The small man sighed deeply as if to signal that he had been very patient with them, but that was at an end. Nathan gave him his brightest smile. Though he was glad to be “home,” he had never tried to live in his time without money, and this was becoming as inconvenient as traveling to the future without means.
“There’s a hotel just up the street there. I’m sure if you ask the manager, she’ll rustle you up some soup or something. Someone will be awake there. They get passengers arriving late at night once in a while. You’re not the first people to get off the train here in Wenatchee in the middle of the night, you know.”
Nathan bowed his head humbly, and squeezed Amanda’s hand as she opened her mouth to speak—her face red and her eyes sparkling with anger.
“Yes, thank you so much for all your trouble. We’ll just be on our way. I hope to be able to reimburse you for the telegram within the next few days as soon as funds arrive from my bank.”
The station agent waved a dismissive hand and shut the door behind them. Nathan heard the key in the lock just as Amanda erupted.
“What a jerk!” she exclaimed. “Acting like he’s so put out!”
Nathan took her hand under his arm. “Well, he was of great help despite his ill-mannered ways. He could have done nothing else but offer to pay for the hotel or invite us home to eat with his family.”
Amanda’s face smoldered. “I would have refused to go,” she said.
“Well, he did not invite us, so the point is moot. Let’s go see about this hotel. I shall have to sweet talk the manager into letting us stay.” He guided her away from the station and turned left to walk down the street in the direction the station agent had pointed.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll do fine. You seem to have a gift for getting people to do what you what,” Amanda muttered. She raised a hand in a sweeping gesture as if to encompass the town. “After all, look at where we are? In your time, though we’re not exactly on our way to Seattle. What was I thinking when I agreed to help you? How did I expect I was going to get back?”
Nathan could do little but pat her hand, denying himself the urge to stop and wrap his arms around her as he had done in the past. She would not welcome his embrace, of that he was sure.
What had he been thinking? That she would welcome traveling back to 1906...again? She hadn’t been happy the first time...not in the beginning. But he hadn’t brought her back to the past as he had this time. She had come on her own. Some mysterious force had brought her to him, though he’d never understood it.
“Oh, wait! I wasn’t thinking, was I?” Amanda continued to mutter. “I thought you were off your rocker. It never really occurred to me that we would actually travel through time. I thought if I just held your hand for a bit, you’d see this time travel thing was all just a fantasy and that you needed help.
“But, noooooo,” Amanda went on. “Here we are! Smack dab in the middle of I-don’t-know-where-from-Adam and I-don’t-know-when! Oh, noooooo. Clearly, I’m the one who was delusional...or am delusional.”
At that, Nathan stopped abruptly and turned Amanda to face him. “Amanda, my love, you are not delusional. You are quite sane, if a little rabid at the moment. We are in my time, in 1906. We have traveled in time. All will turn out well. It will. If you truly cannot abide this era, then I will do everything within my power to help you get back, but that will not occur tonight...or within the next few days until I procure funds for us. We need the train.”
Amanda pressed her lips together and looked up at him. The faint light of the moon played on her face, and he thought he saw tears in her eyes. He ran his thumbs along the outer edge of her cheeks to catch the tears.
“It will be all right, Amanda, I promise you. We have a few difficulties ahead of us, but I will ensure that you have a roof over your head and food in your stomach tonight. Is it that which worries you? Do you fear we shall be forced to sleep on the street?”
Away from the station, few buildings along the wooden sidewalk of the town were lit. Most people slept at this hour. He could see the two-story hotel a short distance down the street, two welcoming lights flanking the front door under a porch.
She shook her head. “No, of course not. I told you I know you’ll manage to get anything you want. All you have to do is turn on the charm and show your bright whites! No, I’m worried about my sanity. I think I’m losing it.”
Nathan couldn’t help but laugh.
“You are not ‘losing it,’ my dear, though it may feel that way. When I first arrived in your time, I also thought I must have lost my mind, for though you had described some aspects of your world, I did not comprehend the scope of the changes that have occurred throughout the century.”
/> Instinctively, Nathan bent his head to kiss her, but Amanda gasped and reared her head back.
“Forgive me,” he muttered. “I am sorry. I continue to forget that you do not know me yet. Yes, I know how you feel. I too feel as if I might lose my mind. If only because the woman I love no longer knows me.” He gritted his teeth and swallowed hard, hating the note of bitterness that had crept into his voice. He forced a smile to his lips and lightened his tone.
“Come. It is time for me to ‘turn on the charm and show my bright whites.’” He took her hand and turned toward the hotel.
They reached the hotel and climbed stairs from the wooden sidewalk to reach the porch. Nathan pushed open the door. A bell sounded as he did so, and they paused just inside the doorway, surveying the modest lobby.
A shabby though well polished wooden counter lined one wall which presumably was normally attended over by a desk clerk. At present, the lobby was empty, but a small lamp at one end of the counter shed soft lighting throughout the quiet room.
Nathan looked down at Amanda to assure himself that his coat covered her from prying eyes which would come soon if the bell had done its job. And indeed, an older woman came bustling in from a door at the rear of the lobby, pulling a shawl around her shoulders and running a hand to her silver hair.
“Yes, can I help you?” she asked.
“We wished to inquire about a room. I apologize for our late arrival, but we just got off the train.” Though Nathan had expressed his concerns about acquiring a room without ready cash, he hesitated to tell Amanda that it was likely they would have to share a room. How else could he explain her presence? He had already named her as his wife to the station agent, and he suspected that Wenatchee was a very small town indeed where such information traveled fast. He could not now call her his sister, neither would anyone believe him.
The woman, presumably the manager, appraised their clothing with raised brows, and Nathan took the preemptive measure of reaching for Amanda’s hand in a warning gesture. He thought it best to be direct with the hotel manager.
