by Bess McBride
Nathan, who had jumped up when she emerged from the closet, crossed his arms and put a hand over his mouth.
“You’re laughing, aren’t you,” she muttered. “Do you have any idea how small that closet is?”
She turned to the mirror. “Oh, boy! What did I do to my hair?” Her hair hung halfway down her back again, Nathan’s chignon ruined. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t move around in there.”
From behind his hand, she could hear his voice. “We can fix that. You, however, may wish to button the front of your blouse and your skirt before Mrs. Murphy returns. Or do you wish me to help you with that again?”
She turned to see Nathan’s eyes crinkling. A laugh escaped, and he turned away, his shoulders shaking.
“Nathan! Stop laughing,” Amanda said with a responding chuckle. “No, I think I can do the blouse by myself now that I have some room to move and light to see with.”
She buttoned the blouse, a sweet little thing of cotton trimmed with ruffles on the chest and wrists, and she tucked it inside the plain navy blue skirt. Though a little bit long, the skirt fit as well as she supposed it needed to. She didn’t think it was meant to be tight at the hips, and it flowed loosely to the ground.
Mrs. Murphy bustled back with hats, several boxes of shoes, jackets, and other frilly bits of lace which Amanda assumed were undergarments.
The next hour was spent trying on the various shoes, jackets and hats. Amanda, unwilling to fight with the closet again, insisted that if the one blouse and skirt fit, they would all fit. Mrs. Murphy conceded she was probably right. The navy blue skirt was raised to an appropriate length, in Mrs. Murphy’s estimation, with the addition of some ankle boots. Amanda noted silently that the boots were back in style in her time at any rate, and that she had a pair at home she wore on occasion with leggings. Her modern pair were much more comfortable, but she would have to make do.
After agreeing with Nathan that she should remain in the new clothing and return the loaned clothing to Mrs. Spivey, Amanda’s wardrobe was boxed and placed on the counter at the front of the store while they went off to the men’s section in search of clothing for Nathan. Amanda, unsure whether Nathan really wanted her there or not, hesitated at first.
“Mrs. Carpenter, are you coming?” he asked. “I need your guidance.”
Amanda rolled her eyes at his use of the married name, but followed him. She took a chair as he had, and waited while he and Mrs. Murphy discussed his clothing. He had very specific tastes, she could see, and they agreed upon several dark jackets with matching trousers, white shirts, vests, shoes and several hats which surprised Amanda. She hadn’t thought of Nathan in a hat except the watch cap he’d worn on his head the night before. He looked very dapper in a straw hat as well as in the dark Homburg that Mrs. Murphy proudly brought forth.
Nathan elected to wear his new clothing as well, and he chose a dark suit with a dark blue vest. He changed out his scuffed shoes for a new pair of shiny black ankle lace-up boots.
“What do you think, Mrs. Carpenter?” he said, turning to her with a grin. Amanda wasn’t quite sure, but she thought she saw a hesitant look on his face.
“Handsome,” she said. “You clean up well, Mr. Carpenter.”
Mrs. Murphy beamed. “He does that, doesn’t he, Mrs. Carpenter?”
Nathan’s cheeks bronzed, and he turned toward the mirror to take one last tug at his sleeves and his dark blue tie. “As long as Mrs. Carpenter is pleased, I am pleased, Mrs. Murphy. Thank you, madam. You have been very kind.”
“Certainly, sir,” Mrs. Murphy replied. “Your boxes are at the front. I’ll have Will deliver them next door to the hotel.”
Amanda rose, suddenly intimidated by Nathan in his finery. He looked stunning, as if he’d hopped straight out of a period romance movie, and she found herself tongue-tied.
“Thank you, Mrs. Murphy, for everything,” she forced out as she moved toward the front door, acutely aware that Nathan followed.
“Oh, just a minute, dear,” Nathan said. “Let me fix your hair.”
“Oh, goodness, you do hair as well, Mr. Carpenter? You are a husband after my own heart,” Mrs. Murphy tittered.
“I am a man of many talents, Mrs. Murphy,” Nathan said with a chuckle. He wound Amanda’s hair up into a chignon again and tucked it into her ponytail band. “Do you have any hairpins, Mrs. Murphy?”
“Oh, yes. Here you go. On the house.” Mrs. Murphy reached below the glass counter and produced a package of something that looked like bobby pins. Nathan stuck a few into Amanda’s hair and pronounced himself satisfied.
“There, that will stay in this time. Shall we, my dear?” He held out his arm for Amanda, who gave him a pointed look and tucked her hand underneath.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Murphy. And thank you again,” Nathan said as he tipped his hat. He had chosen to wear the straw hat. Amanda eyed him as they left the store. His new clothes had altered his personality in some subtle way—given him an extra boost of confidence or of comfort. She wasn’t sure which. He seemed more poised, more polished, even in his demeanor. And the clothes served to enhance his already striking looks.
They paused on the sidewalk and surveyed their surroundings. “I think I shall go see Mr. Spivey. Would you care to come along?” Nathan asked.
“Well, you’re not leaving me on my own,” Amanda said firmly. “So, let’s go.”
“Never,” Nathan laughed. They crossed the dirt road with care, Amanda shuddering at sweeping the street with her skirt.
“Look at your new shoes!” she exclaimed when they reached the other side of the road. “Look at mine!”
Nathan produced a handkerchief, one of the many purchases he had made in the clothing store.
“Allow me!” He bent and dusted off her boots before running the cloth across his own shoes. “There! Better?” His smile was broad, almost relaxed, a playful light in his eyes.
“You know we have pavement now...in 2013,” Amanda muttered, turning to eye the unpaved and ungraded street.
“Yes, I do know,” Nathan said. “You may not remember, but some of the streets of Seattle are paved now, although not of the quality of the roads of the twenty-first century.”
They turned in the direction of the train station with Nathan leading the way while Amanda eyed her surroundings with wonder. The town had come alive this morning, and an Indian summer day of sunshine revealed much that she hadn’t been able to see in the night. Her parents had taken her to an Old West theme town once, and the dirt roads, wooden sidewalks, false-front buildings and wagons pulled by mules reminded her of that town.
They reached the train station, the unremarkable wood building appearing in daylight to be as plain and unassuming as Amanda had previously thought when she saw it the night before. They stepped inside. A few passengers waited on the benches inside, and Amanda wondered when the next passenger train came through. Her heart thumped with the thought that maybe she could get on it, but she quickly realized that she still had no money, nor did she fully understand how she would get back to her own time. Just close her eyes and wish? Wish for what? Nothing really waited for her in Seattle. Her life had been quiet and dull with little excitement. It was hard to believe but the little town of Wenatchee in 1906 was proving to be much more stimulating than Seattle in 2013. She looked up at Nathan’s profile. Or maybe the constant strumming in her veins was because of the man at her side.
“Good morning, Mr. Spivey,” Nathan said in a jovial tone. Mr. Spivey could be seen through the bars at the ticket counter seated at his desk.
The station agent looked over his shoulder and jumped up.
“Mr. Carpenter,” he said, with evident surprise in his tone as he scanned their clothing. “Mrs. Carpenter.” He nodded in Amanda’s direction, and she responded, regretting her behavior the night before.
“Good morning, Mr. Spivey,” she said sweetly.
“I was wondering if a telegram had arrived for me yet?” Nathan asked. “Anything from the bank?”<
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Mr. Spivey shook his head. “No, nothing yet, but that’s not unusual. They might not have received it until this morning.” He checked his pocket watch. “In fact, the bank has probably only just opened.”
Nathan nodded. “I imagine you are right. I’ll try to wait patiently.” He leaned forward as if to speak in confidence. “I’m sure you understand, Mr. Spivey. I just cannot stand owing so many people in town already—yourself, Mrs. Spivey who has been wonderful, and now the good people of the Murphy store who have been so kind to my wife and myself.”
“What time does the next train come through?” Amanda couldn’t help herself from asking. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nathan’s head jerk in her direction. She averted her face but could feel him watching her. It was as if he held his breath.
“The train from Seattle?” Mr. Spivey asked. “One fifty-seven this afternoon.” He eyed her curiously but didn’t ask any questions.
“Thank you,” Amanda said. “I was just wondering. The passengers, you know.” She nodded toward the waiting passengers, speaking more for Nathan’s benefit than Mr. Spivey’s, although she suspected the station manager would balk at giving her a ticket without cash. Not that she had any plans to board a train in 1906 heading for Chicago. If she did hop a train, it would have to be heading westbound toward Seattle.
“I’ll let you know right away if a telegram comes in, Mr. Carpenter.” Mr. Spivey nodded and turned away to do whatever it was that station agents did when a train wasn’t at the station.
As soon as they stepped outside the station, Nathan turned to Amanda.
“Were you thinking of trying to board the next train, Amanda? The one going east?” Although he seemed to keep his face expressionless, she watched the muscles of his jaw tense, and her heart rolled over. Whoever Nathan thought she was, whatever she—or her doppleganger—and Nathan had together in the past, he was still very much in love with that person. The pain in his eyes reflected that.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Amanda spoke softly. “I worry though, Nathan, that you’re in love with someone who isn’t here.” She pressed her hand to a spot above her breast. “I’m not the person you fell in love with. When you look at me, I can see the love in your eyes, but I keep thinking that it’s for someone else, someone you think I am.” She searched his face, hoping for some sort of reassurance, although she wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say.
Nathan bent his head to look into her eyes and he cupped her chin in his hand.
“I think I understand what you are saying, Amanda, and I don’t wish to frighten you or to place an unbearable burden on you. If I could hide the expression in my eyes, I would. Believe me, I do try. Yes, I am in love...with you. I know that you believe I fell in love with someone else, but I don’t. You are the same woman. Perhaps a day or so younger.” He smiled teasingly, and a corner of Amanda’s lips twitched.
“I have no expectations of you, and if you did wish to board a train in the hopes of returning to your time, I would let you go.” Nathan’s voice thickened, and he nodded as if convincing himself. “Yes, I would let you go. I wouldn’t try to stop you. Is that what you want to do? Would it work on the train heading east?”
Amanda felt the breath sucked from her lungs as she heard the words spoken aloud. Leave? Nathan? So soon? She hugged her arms around her waist and struggled for air.
“No, I wasn’t planning...” She dragged in a deep breath and shook her head. “Right now? No. I don’t think...” She paused and gathered her racing thoughts. “I’m not sure what I was thinking, but I can’t just jump a train and hope for the best. I’d end up in Chicago in 1906, and I’d rather be here.” She stopped short of saying “with you.”
The lines on Nathan’s forehead eased, and he straightened and offered her his arm again. “I have to admit that I too would be concerned to see you board a train for the unknown. If and when you do decide you must return, then we must put our heads together to see how best it can be done. I do think you should wait to speak with Dani Sadler before you do though. She has so much more experience with this than I, and perhaps she can offer you some advice on how to safely travel.”
Amanda nodded. “I will.”
A long muffled whistle blew just then, startling them both, and they looked at each other.
“I thought the train wasn’t coming for another couple of hours,” Amanda said.
“As did I?” Nathan looked toward the side of the building. “That whistle doesn’t really sound like the train though. It’s coming from beyond the station. Let’s go explore!”
He grabbed Amanda’s hand and they hurried around the side of the train station, emerging near the tracks. Across the tracks ran an expansive river, one Amanda hadn’t seen in the night. Beyond the river, a small mountain range, its soft peaks layered in snow, formed the horizon.
“The Columbia River,” Nathan said. “And that is what is making the noise.” He pointed.
Amanda watched as a boat chugged up the river heading toward a wooden landing not far from the station.
“It’s a paddle boat! Just like on the Mississippi!” she exclaimed.
“Also called a sternwheeler, I believe, as the wheel is at the back of the boat,” Nathan said.
“Let’s go down there,” Amanda said. “Will you look at that?” she breathed. The sternwheeler, a white boat much smaller than the large riverboats that plied the Mississippi, appeared to have two decks topped by a wheelhouse and chimney. But it was the paddle wheel that captured her attention as it cleaved the water with a steady hiss like a huge steaming teapot combined with a rhythmic thumping of the paddles.
“It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” Nathan said. He took her hand in his arm and they followed the tracks until they found a road which crossed the tracks. They arrived at the landing just as the sternwheeler pulled in. Several carriages and wagons awaited passengers and goods. Nathan pointed to crates of apples ready to be delivered onto the sternwheeler as it returned downriver.
“And yet more apples,” he chuckled.
“Oh, I’d love to ride on one of those boats,” Amanda said with a sigh.
“Then you shall,” Nathan said. “I hesitate to ‘flash my brights’ any more than I have to date, but as soon as I arrange matters with my bank, we will book a short trip on the sternwheeler.”
“That would be great!” Amanda said. “Who doesn’t love a good riverboat cruise?”
“Someone who hasn’t been on a sternwheeler when it ran aground and sank. We’ve lost three of them this year alone.”
Amanda, startled by the male voice behind her, turned. A tall gentleman dressed similarly to Nathan gave them a wry smile. He checked a pocket watch and nodded.
“She’s on time for once.” He held out a hand. “I’m sorry. Mitch Cunningham. I work for the steamboat company. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Amanda wasn’t sure he meant frighten her by tales of sternwheelers running aground or by startling her from behind. His Southern drawl caught her attention.
Nathan shook his hand. “Nathan Carpenter, and my wife, Mrs. Amanda Carpenter.”
Mitch appeared to be about thirty years old, with close-cropped brown hair and tanned skin. “Nice to meet you. So, you’re thinking about booking passage?”
“Not today,” Nathan said quickly. “But my wife would like to ride on a sternwheeler, and frankly, so would I.”
“Well, do it soon.” Mitch shook his head. “They’re going to build a bridge downstream soon, and we’re already struggling to keep these boats running. The bridge will allow people to cross the river by wagon or even automobiles, and they won’t need the sternwheelers to transport goods and passengers up and down the anymore. At any rate, I hate to say it, but I think our sternwheeling operations here are nearing their end.” His voice held a note of sadness.
“Why is that?” Nathan asked.
“The river is unpredictable. We’ve got some rapids downstream that beat these boats up regularly. Some of t
he boats just seem to give up and stop fighting to stay afloat.” Mitch smiled. “Oh, I know that sounds sentimental, but that’s how I feel. I grew up on the Mississippi, and I’ve loved sternwheelers all my life.”
“I thought I heard a Southern accent,” Amanda murmured.
“Louisiana born and bred, ma’am,” Mitch grinned. He tipped his cap in her direction. “Well, I’d better get back to the office.” He nodded toward a small wooden building nearby before striding away. Amanda turned to Nathan.
“Don’t listen to him. I’m going!” she said firmly.
“As you wish, Mrs. Carpenter,” Nathan laughed. “I believe it is time for some lunch. Let’s see if there is a restaurant in town.”
On the way back up toward the town, Nathan stopped by the train station to ask Mr. Spivey for a recommendation for lunch.
“Well, there’s the Empire Hotel. They serve a nice lunch.” Mr. Spivey looked around furtively. “Don’t tell my wife I sent you there. Competition, you know. Not that Mrs. Spivey serves lunch to the public, but you know...the hotel.” He nodded conspiratorially, and Nathan smiled.
“Not a word, Mr. Spivey.”
He gave them directions, and they made their way down the street toward a red brick building in the middle of town. A bold emerald green awning led them inside a hotel which boasted a festive lobby, carpeted in bright red, and centered on a burning fireplace flanked by dark olive green velvet couches. A restaurant led off from the lobby, and Nathan escorted her toward it. They were seated at a window table that overlooked the mountain range in the distance and part of the river.
“Oh, gosh, poor Mrs. Spivey,” Amanda murmured. “This is competition.” The dining room bustled with business.
Nathan picked up his menu and nodded. “Yes, I think Mrs. Spivey’s hotel probably caters more to the working class during the harvesting season.”
“And the homeless?” Amanda smirked.
“And the homeless,” Nathan nodded with a smile. They ordered lunch and ate at a leisurely pace. Amanda wondered that she could even eat in Nathan’s presence. Her stomach often seemed to twist into knots when he was around, and she didn’t know whether that was from anxiety or just sheer appreciation of his charm and looks. Maybe both. She averted her face to look out of the window often, especially when Nathan gazed at her with the love for her other self that he couldn’t hide.
