by Bess McBride
“I am afraid my phrasing was clumsy, Amanda. I am the one who should apologize. What I meant to say was that you are not the same woman who knew and loved me well enough to marry me. Circumstances have changed. However, I do not believe you have changed—your tastes, your dislikes, your likes. In fact, I am counting on the latter!”
Amanda looked up in confusion, and Nathan wished he had not been so forthcoming. He found himself so desperate to make Amanda fall in love with him again that he was saying whatever was on his mind. Although he and Amanda had felt an immediate connection when they first met, the course of their romance had occurred more naturally that time, even given the fact that she was out of time and place. He had to stop pressing her. He was only making matters worse.
“I apologize. I am mumbling. Pay no attention to me.” He dropped his eyes and picked up his fork.
Thankfully, Mrs. Spivey entered at that moment because Nathan was at a loss for uncomplicated conversation.
“I’ve put a few things in your room upstairs, Mrs. Carpenter, and I stepped out for a minute and went next door to speak to Murphy’s Clothing Store about your problem. Jim Murphy and my husband have known each other since they were kids. Mrs. Murphy agreed to outfit you on credit if we vouch for you, which I did.”
Nathan jumped up and took Mrs. Spivey’s hand. “Thank you, madam. Thank you very much. That was most kind of you.”
Mrs. Spivey blushed. “It was nothing. Mr. Spivey and I talked about you this morning, and we agreed that you had the air of a man of means about you, that you were most likely being truthful.”
Nathan shot Amanda a rueful look. He supposed “most likely being truthful” was an affirmation of some sort. He found the Spiveys to be a brusquely-spoken couple, but more than generous.
He turned back to Mrs. Spivey, her roughened hand still in his. He gave it a final shake before releasing it. “Thank you again for your trust. I will not let you down.”
Mrs. Spivey nodded, picked up a few dishes and turned to leave the room. She paused at the door and looked over her shoulder.
“I can have a nice hot supper for you when you return this evening. Will you be here?”
Nathan and Amanda looked at each other and nodded.
“Yes, of course, Mrs. Spivey. We look forward to it,” Nathan said.
She nodded and left the room.
Nathan, alone again with Amanda, found it difficult to meet her eyes. He picked up his cup of coffee and savored it.
“They’re nice, if a little rough around the edges,” Amanda ventured.
Nathan nodded. “Yes, they have surprised me. I consider ourselves fortunate to have encountered them.”
“Well, I’m done with breakfast. I guess I’ll go see what Mrs. Spivey has dropped off in the room for me.” Amanda rose from her chair, and Nathan leapt from his seat to pull her chair back.
“When you are ready, we can visit the shop next door and see what Mrs. Murphy has available for us. I would like to visit Mr. Spivey at the station as well and see if a telegram from my bank has arrived.”
Amanda nodded and left the room to climb the stairs. Nathan sat down again to finish his coffee, eyeing the now empty doorway with a fervent wish that Amanda might come dashing back through the door to declare her love for him. But that did not happen.
He lingered at the table for about fifteen minutes and then climbed the stairs to knock on Amanda’s door.
“Yes?” Amanda called out, her voice high-pitched, almost ragged. Nathan’s heart began to race.
“Amanda! Are you all right? Is anything wrong?”
“No,” she squeaked. “Well, yes. I...can’t...get...this...button...undone!”
Nathan’s shoulders sagged with relief. She had come to no harm.
“May I enter? Can I help?”
“Yes,” she called faintly.
Nathan opened the door to find Amanda fully dressed in a dark blue cotton skirt and a plain white shirtwaist blouse. She stood in front of the small mirror on the wall above the dresser, her neck tilted back as she struggled with the top button of the high-necked blouse. Her hair hung down in soft waves to the middle of her back.
He moved to stand behind her, clasping his hands behind his back to restrain himself from touching her hair.
“How can I help?” He cleared his throat of its huskiness.
She turned toward him, her face reddened. “I can’t breathe! This collar is too high. I buttoned it and now I can’t get it undone! Can you undo this button? I’m about to rip it off, but I don’t want to do that to Mrs. Spivey’s shirt.”
Nathan grinned. Amanda did indeed look as if she were choking.
“Yes, of course.” He reached for the button. “Tilt your head back again.”
“I am,” she moaned. “As far as I can!”
Nathan loosened the top button. “Do you want the entire collar unbuttoned?”
“Oh, yes, please!” She closed her eyes and waited.
Nathan undid the other two buttons, exposing the soft skin of her throat. Against his better judgment, he bent to kiss her neck, a favorite pastime of his when they were engaged.
Amanda gasped and jumped away. She clutched at her throat and stared at him.
Nathan pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Forgive me. I should not have done that, but I could not resist. That kiss used to make you giggle with delight. You said it tickled you.”
Amanda bit her lower lip. “I don’t remember it,” she murmured.
“No, I am fully aware that you don’t,” Nathan muttered, his eyes on the floor. “And I should have remembered that I am now a stranger to you. Again, I apologize.”
“That’s okay,” she said quietly. “I can fully understand why I might have giggled with delight.”
Nathan looked up quickly, hope rising in his heart.
Amanda smiled quickly and moved toward the mirror as if to end the conversation. “Thanks for busting me out of this collar. I hope it’s okay to wear it open. Now, what should I do about my hair? I notice Mrs. Spivey wears hers up in a bun.” Her matter-of-fact voice brooked no further sentimental discussion.
“She does. Most adult women wear their hair up. When you first came, you did not enjoy having your hair on top of your head, but you grew used to it.”
She caught his eyes in the mirror. “It’s still so hard to hear you talk about me in the past tense. I almost feel like I have amnesia.”
Nathan shook his head. “Not amnesia. No loss of memory. For you, we have never met before. It is a very difficult concept for me to grasp as well.”
“Can you help me do my hair?”
Nathan drew in a sharp breath. “You asked me that very question the last time.”
Amanda’s cheeks, still red from her exertions, brightened even further.
“Did I? How did that work out for us?”
“Very well,” he murmured. “In the absence of pins, we used a band to tie up your hair. I believe you wore it at breakfast?”
“This one?” Amanda held up a small circle of purple.
“Yes, something similar. I became quite proficient at it until my housekeeper took over and did a far better job of dressing your hair. May I?”
Amanda nodded.
Nathan pulled her hair up into a ponytail and wrapped the band around the base. He then twisted the ponytail into a chignon and tightened it within the band. Small curly tendrils drifted down the back of her neck, but he resisted the urge to run his fingers along the back of her neck...or to kiss it. Perhaps another opportunity would come at a later date. He had never wished for anything more.
Amanda reached up to touch the chignon at the crown of her head. “Nice job!” she said with a smile. “You have had some practice with this, haven’t you?”
Nathan smiled. “Yes, but only with you, my love.”
Amanda turned slowly to face him. “You know, you keep calling me by these endearments, Nathan, but I’m not sure I deserve them. I really don’t feel like you kn
ow me, no matter how many times you tell me we were once engaged.”
Nathan sighed deeply and nodded. “I understand, Amanda. I do try to avoid using them as I imagine you must think I’m imposing myself on you, but the endearments will erupt from my mouth of their own accord. A matter of habit, I think. I will try to stop.”
“Well, you don’t have to stop...exactly. I was just commenting.” Amanda turned away quickly and crossed the room to slip into her black canvas deck-style shoes. “Do you think these shoes will be noticeable? What does Mrs. Spivey wear for shoes?”
Nathan watched her, his mind in a whirlwind. The kaleidoscope of her emotions confused him, and he did not know what she wanted. He had been honest with her. She wasn’t the same woman he had fallen in love with, but then again she hadn’t been faced with a complete stranger from the past who claimed to have once loved her.
“No, I do not think anyone will see your shoes. The skirt Mrs. Spivey loaned you is long enough to cover them. I imagine Mrs. Spivey wears a dark boot. Most women do for daytime wear. Slippers for evening.”
“Well, let’s go see what’s outside. Wenatchee in 1906. I can’t imagine.” Her smile appeared forced, and Nathan thought he recognized the worry on her face...the same fear of the unknown she’d had when she had arrived before.
He held out his arm to her. “Everything will be all right, Amanda. I promise you.” He vowed to see that happen, though what form it might take he could not say.
Chapter Seven
Amanda stepped out into the daylight and halted. She hadn’t known what to expect. From her window early that morning, she’d seen dirt roads with the occasional horse and wagon, but few people had been about at that hour. Now, the streets were lined with wagons and carriages. People milled in the streets and sauntered along the sidewalks in front of rows of two-story buildings in a myriad of colors ranging from painted white and yellow to original red brick. Shop signs jutted out over the sidewalks advertising their goods. Awnings presided over the entrances to many of the buildings. Massive poles dotted the street, power lines Amanda assumed from the wires running between them. The sweet smell of apples continued to hang in the air along with the occasional smell of burning wood from chimneys.
She gaped at the men and women—especially the women as they floated down the dusty sidewalks without lifting their skirts. She looked down at Mrs. Spivey’s skirt, now clutched in her free hand to keep it out of the dirt. Her black walking shoes showed, and she dropped the skirt.
“Is anything wrong, Amanda?” Nathan asked.
“No, no.” She shook her head. “I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all. I mean, look at all of this.” She spread her arm to encompass the scene before them.
“Yes, I imagine that you must feel overwhelmed. I had a similar reaction when I traveled to your time.”
“How do they do that?” she mused, watching two women passing them on the sidewalk.
“What is that?”
“Walk without tripping over those skirts? I couldn’t even make it down the hall upstairs without grabbing the edge of my skirt.”
Nathan chuckled. “Perhaps I am not the best person to ask. I have often wondered the same myself.”
Amanda shot him a grin. “Well, I guess we’d better go. I’m sure you would feel better with a change of clothes.”
They made their way to the store next door located in a two-story red brick building. Passing under a low-hanging bright green awning, they stepped inside the shop. A young blonde man standing behind the counter eyed them curiously as he moved forward.
“May I help you?” he asked.
Amanda looked to Nathan to speak.
“Mrs. Spivey at the hotel next door told us she spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Murphy regarding clothing for my wife and myself?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Murphy said you would be by. I’ll go get her.” The young man, sporting a beige suit, hurried down the length of the store and disappeared into the back.
“Well, he’s quite dapper,” Nathan said. “My taste is more conservative, but I am pleased to see they have modern clothing here.”
“Modern?” Amanda’s eyebrows shot up.
Nathan grinned. “Well, modern to me, that is.”
Three people emerged from the back of the room—an older, gray-haired man of similar short height to the young man who accompanied him, and a stout gray-haired woman who removed an apron from around her waist as she moved forward with her hand outstretched.
“Sadie Murphy,” she said with a warm smile. “This is my husband, Jim, and you’ve met my son, Will. Welcome to Wenatchee.”
She took Amanda’s hand first and shook it before turning to Nathan.
“Thank you,” Amanda said. Nathan repeated her thanks.
“So, Jean Spivey said you were ambushed and lost your luggage and money.” Mrs. Murphy’s tone held no undertone of doubt.
Amanda let Nathan do the talking.
“Yes, that is right. I do appreciate your consideration in allowing us to purchase a few things on credit. Mrs. Spivey probably told you that I have telegraphed my bank and expect to receive a response within the next two days. However, my wife is wearing borrowed clothing, and we need to find her something more suited to her...frame.”
With that, Nathan flashed his charming smile, and Mrs. Murphy predictably responded with a blush.
“My son will help you with your clothing, Mr. Carpenter, as my husband is working on the books right now. We do have some ready-to-wear things that I can hem or tailor, as you need. I’ll take Mrs. Carpenter under my wing, and we’ll go along to the ladies department in the back of the store to see what she needs.”
Amanda panicked. How would she know what she needed? She threw a quick pleading look toward Nathan who reacted quickly.
“I have never been able to make clothing decisions without my wife’s guidance and approval, Mrs. Murphy. And she appreciates my advice on her garments. Would it be possible for you to see to us both?” He turned to Will. “It would be difficult for you to attend to my wife, but I have been clothed by a woman before.” A flash of his teeth mollified Will who returned to the counter. Mr. Murphy nodded absent-mindedly and returned to the doorway from which he had emerged. Mrs. Murphy smiled an agreement.
“Well, in that case, we’ll dress Mrs. Carpenter first, and then you, Mr. Carpenter. If you would follow me.”
Mrs. Murphy led the way to the back of the store, past the men’s section, and past polished wooden shelves of ladies shoes and hats, bolts of material, what looked like undergarments, and hanging racks of skirts and blouses.
“If you would like to take a seat there, Mr. Carpenter, I’ll help Mrs. Carpenter pick out a few things, and she can show them to you for your approval.”
Amanda raised her eyebrows. Approval? Well, they had certainly set themselves up for that one. She regretted her initial panic at being separated from Nathan, but she hadn’t felt as if she had the skills to “pick” clothing in 1906 just yet.
As Mrs. Murphy turned away, Nathan wagged an eyebrow at Amanda and took a seat on a hard-back chair with a solemn face. Amanda suspected he knew she didn’t like the word “approval,” especially if he knew her as he said he did.
Mrs. Murphy led her to a wall of skirts and blouses, all of which looked remarkably similar—dark skirts and white blouses.
“Do you see anything you like, Mrs. Carpenter?”
Amanda looked over her shoulder toward Nathan who smiled encouragingly.
“Well, they look similar. Maybe just one white blouse and a dark skirt? How about that blue one there?” She pointed to a plain navy blue cotton skirt.
“Will you only be needing one change of clothes?” Mrs. Murphy asked with a raised brow.
Amanda looked to Nathan. What did she need? What was he willing to pay for? When he did pay, that is?
“Perhaps four or five blouses and an equal number of skirts of varying shades. A dinner dress. Do you have jackets, shawls and gloves? I think Mrs. Carpenter wil
l also need shoes, several hats, and feminine garments.” Nathan blushed on the last word.
Amanda stared at him, unwilling to argue the amount of clothing he had just requested in front of Mrs. Murphy.
“Oh, certainly,” Mrs. Murphy said. “We have all of those things.” She pulled five blouses and skirts from the racks and handed those to Amanda. “Here, my dear, go into that closet there and try these on while I get some other things. Just flip on the light switch.” She turned to hurry off, and Amanda rotated, her arms full of clothing, to look at Nathan.
“That’s a lot of stuff, Nathan. How am I going to repay you?”
“No repayment is required, Amanda. I have provided for you before, and you asked the same question then. The matter was resolved to both our satisfaction.” He smiled softly.
“When we got engaged, I take it.”
“Exactly.”
She looked down at the pile of clothing in her arms. “You know, that’s not a foregone conclusion in this scenario,” she murmured. “That was then. That was someone else. You said so yourself.”
Nathan rose to take the weight of the clothing from her arms.
“No, that was you, just another version of you. You are right. It isn’t a foregone conclusion that you will again agree to marry me. I do not kid myself about this. But I have decided that I will pursue you once again as I did before, and I hope that you’ll fall in love with me again.”
Amanda caught her breath. He was irresistible. Who talked like that?
“And the clothing is not a price you have to pay,” Nathan added. “It is a gift and something you need.”
“Well, then, I’d better try them on,” Amanda said as she held out her arms for the clothes. “Gifts are always welcome.”
Nathan laughed as Amanda moved away and entered the closet/dressing room to try on the clothing. There was very little room in what she suspected was really a broom closet, and she struggled to undress and then dress. The light, shedding little more than a faint yellow glow, was unhelpful. Claustrophobia struck, and she almost busted out of the door to get out of the closet. She clutched at her shirt with one hand and the skirt with the other and eyed Nathan wildly.
