by Bess McBride
“But then you didn’t have any shoes to walk with, did you? Don’t tell me you actually managed to climb along the hillside down the river, did you? You were lucky you didn’t meet up with a cougar.” She handed him a hot cup of coffee.
Nathan nodded. “Yes, I did climb along the hillside. I didn’t know there were cougars around here.”
“There are...and wolves,” she said. She eyed his feet again.
“Yes, I heard the wolves.”
“They must not have been too hungry,” she said with a grin.
Nathan wished he could have grinned but couldn’t. His feet were thawing, and pain was setting in.
“Let me get something for your feet. Some salve and I’ll get you some of my son’s socks and an old pair of shoes. You can’t walk any further with only those bloody bandages on your feet. What are those? Your shirtsleeves?”
Nathan nodded and sipped his coffee. He was anxious to reach the other side of the river and find Amanda and Robert, but he really did not want to show up as filthy and bedraggled as he was.
Mrs. Canton returned and handed him a bucket of water, a clean cloth, the salve and some bandages. She set down some old boots and faded socks at the foot of his chair.
“I’ll let you tend to yourself. I’m not much of a nurse,” she said gruffly.
“Thank you, Mrs. Canton. I am most appreciative of all you are doing for me. Truly.”
She nodded and turned away to enter a door at the back of the station.
He pulled the shirtsleeves from his feet and tried not to wince as they stuck to his open wounds. He thrust his feet in the bucket of water and gritted his teeth. The water, though cold, stung. Still, his feet needed to be cleaned. He soaked them for a few minutes and dried them before applying the salve and bandages.
Mrs. Canton returned, holding a bowl of soup in her hand.
“You can have this when you’re done. I’ll bet you haven’t eaten. Goodness, there was quite a stink when you went overboard. Everybody heard about it. They looked for you yesterday, but they didn’t see you.”
Nathan gingerly thrust his feet into the overly large boots and took the soup from Mrs. Canton. He avoided standing as long as possible.
“This looks delicious. Thank you. No, I haven’t eaten.” He spooned some of the soup into his mouth and reveled in the taste. “I saw the sternwheeler pass by, but they didn’t see me, no matter how much I jumped and shouted.”
“That’s too bad. The company will be glad to know you’ve survived though. I was just in Wenatchee yesterday, and Mr. Cunningham, the manager, said there will be heck to pay for losing a passenger. Sternwheeler accidents come and go, though we’ve never had one, but they don’t like to lose passengers. Invites lawsuits and such.”
The corner of Nathan’s mouth twitched. “Well, I am no longer lost, Mrs. Canton, and I have no intention of suing the steamboat company.”
She nodded. “I’ll leave you to it then, I guess. I’ve got some paperwork to do in the office. I’ll be back when it’s time for the ferry to leave.”
Nathan nodded and finished his soup. He stood up and hobbled over to the counter to leave the soup bowl and spoon. As he did so, he caught sight of his reflection in a mirror behind the counter. He looked much, much worse than he ever had when he was indigent in the twenty-first century. His face was filthy, his hair full of sand, his shirt without sleeves. He made his way over to the door through which Mrs. Canton had disappeared and knocked on it.
“Yes,” Mrs. Canton said.
“Mrs. Canton, if you could indulge me just a bit further. Do you have an old coat or a jacket? I would be happy to reimburse you or to purchase something new once I returned to Wenatchee. I simply cannot present myself without shirtsleeves.”
She looked him up and down with a smirk.
“Well, I’m sure I can find something old of my son’s. I wondered when I first saw you if you knew how bad you looked.”
Nathan smiled wryly. “I only know how much pain I was in and how grateful I was to see your ferry. I did not realize how odd my appearance was...especially given that I have no sleeves, coat or shoes.”
She turned away and returned with a dark wool jacket that Nathan slipped on gratefully, although it was also too big. Her son must have been a big boy.
The front door burst open, and a large red-headed young man entered.
“We’re just about ready to go, Ma. We don’t have any fares going over but maybe we’ll have some coming back. Do you need us to pick up any supplies in Wenatchee?”
He stopped short and stared when he spotted Nathan.
“Sam, this is Mr. Carpenter. He’s that fella who everyone thought drowned in the Cascades wreck. He managed to save himself, and he’s back. We’re going to give him a ride to Wenatchee.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Sam said. He shook Nathan’s hand. “Wow! Back from the dead.”
Nathan grinned. “Something like that.”
“Well, we’re getting ready to go now,” Sam said. “If you want to board.” He looked down at Nathan’s feet. “Hey, I have a pair of boots like that!”
“Those are your boots, Sam. Don’t worry, you’ll get them back,” Mrs. Canton said. She gave him a shove toward the door when it looked like he would protest. “Go on now.”
“I will repay you,” Nathan told Sam as he followed him outside. Sam grunted acknowledgement and led the way toward the small gangway leading to the ferry, hardly more than a plank really. Sam stepped aboard, and as Nathan stepped onto the plank, he started to shake.
“Are you coming?” Sam asked with a curious look over his shoulder. “We have to shove off soon.”
Nathan bit his lip and cursed himself for being a coward. He looked down at the water below the gangway and clenched his teeth as he steeled himself to walk aboard the ferry. He took up a position at the railing and dug his fingers into the wooden bar top rail molding for the entire journey across the river.
Upon docking, Nathan thanked Sam and promised him once again he would reimburse them. Nathan’s heart pounded as he anticipated his reunion with Amanda, and he quickened his painfully hobbling steps. The train station was the first building to come into view, and he darted inside. Mr. Spivey was sure to know where Amanda was, and whether Robert had remained in town.
Mr. Spivey looked up. His eyes bulged and his jaw dropped.
“Mr. Carpenter! As I live and breathe! You’re alive!” Mr. Spivey emerged from his office and came into the lobby. He scanned Nathan’s appearance and shook his head. “What a sight you are. Where have you been? They said you had drowned in the wreck.”
Nathan explained quickly, anxious to ask his own questions. “Have you seen my wife? How is she doing? I am most anxious to see her. I hope my disappearance has not caused her too much distress.”
Mr. Spivey cleared his throat and shook his head slowly, a look of sympathy crossing his face. Nathan’s heart froze.
“She is uninjured, isn’t she? Please tell me that she is all right!”
“Yes, yes, she’s okay,” Mr. Spivey reassured him. “But she’s not here. She went back to Seattle with Mr. Chamberlain on last night’s train. I don’t think she wanted to go yet. She told the missus she wanted to stay here and wait for you, but everyone was convinced there was no hope you survived, especially since the rescue paddle boat, the Rockies, telegraphed back and said they couldn’t find you.”
Nathan sank onto a bench—relief uppermost in his mind, followed by disappointment that he would have to wait longer to see her. Still, she was with Robert and in safe hands. How she must have suffered, thinking him dead. He remembered her words of love just before the accident. Had the roles been reversed, and she been lost overboard.... No, he could not even imagine such a thing. Would not imagine such a thing.
He nodded wearily.
“That it as it should be. I am most grateful to Robert for seeing her back to Seattle. May I send a telegram? I suppose I do not need to tell you that I have no cash on me a
t present...again. I shrugged off my jacket in the water, and with it, my ready cash. I shall reimburse you once again after I visit the bank. Oh, and of course, I would like to book a compartment on tonight’s train.”
“Yes, of course,” Mr. Spivey said. “Oh, I almost forgot. Your grandfather came out on the train from Seattle, a Mr. Carpenter? He arrived the same day as you left on the Cascades.”
Nathan jerked. “My grandfather? Are you sure? How could he have heard so soon? Did Robert send him a telegram?” He shook his head, exhausted. “No, what could I be thinking? That’s not possible. He would have caught the train from Seattle the morning of the accident.” He looked up at Mr. Spivey who stood patiently by.
“I’m not quite sure,” Mr. Spivey said. “My wife overheard him tell Mr. Chamberlain that he’d heard from the bank that you were alive. Didn’t make sense to me. That was even before the accident, but maybe it makes sense to you.”
Nathan nodded. Yes, it did make sense. The bank must have notified his grandfather that he was alive, probably against Robert’s wishes, and against his own. But perhaps, like Mrs. Spivey, his grandfather had overheard something at the bank. At any rate, it no longer mattered. Now, his grandfather would think him dead again. The poor man, how horrible for him. And yet, he must have seen Amanda. He would be elated to find her again, but she would not know him.
Nathan sighed heavily and rose to his feet. He remembered telling Amanda that they found themselves in a conundrum. It seemed to only be getting more and more complex.
“Thank you for telling me, Mr. Spivey. I had better send that telegram. As a matter of fact, I think I had better send two—one to my grandfather and one to Mr. Chamberlain to pass along to my wife. I am sure she is staying with Mr. Chamberlain and his wife.”
He dictated the telegrams, watched them sent, and left to return to the hotel before presenting himself to the bank once again.
Nathan had never realized how much Mrs. Spivey resembled her husband until he arrived at the hotel to find the same expression on her face as her husband had worn upon discovering he was still alive.
“Mr. Carpenter!” she shrieked. She enfolded him in what he imagined was a rare embrace before quickly stepping back with reddened cheeks.
“What happened to you? You look terrible. Come, sit down.” She pointed to one of the sofas in the lobby but Nathan looked down at his dusty clothing and declined.
“No, I had better not,” he said with a wan smile. He explained his misadventures for the third time that morning, and felt thankful nonetheless to have the opportunity to do so. The alternative would have been a watery grave.
“If you don’t mind, Mrs. Spivey, I think I will go bathe and put on some fresh clothing. I must go to the bank before it closes. I owe your husband yet again for telegrams, as well as Mrs. Canton and her son for ferrying me over. And for the use of his boots.” He looked down at his feet.
“I’ll bring you some hot tea,” she said with a brisk nod. “Poor Mrs. Carpenter. She was devastated, just devastated.”
Pain seared through Nathan’s chest at the image of Amanda in tears, and he cleared his throat to rid himself of the hard knot that had risen in it.
“I have sent her a telegram. I hope she receives it soon. I hate to think she suffered.”
“No, well, it wasn’t your fault. She’ll be overjoyed when she hears from you. Your grandfather too. Mr. Spivey told you he arrived?”
“Yes, he did.” Nathan elected to say no more on that subject as it circuitously touched on the subject of the time travel. He reminded himself to stay as close to the original story as possible—that he and his wife had been accosted in Spokane and their possessions stolen.
“Poor man. He was so shocked to hear of your...death, although you’re alive now. Everyone was.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Spivey.” Nathan moved toward the stairs. “I’ll just go upstairs now.”
“I’ll leave the tea and something to eat in your room while you take a bath,” Mrs. Spivey said.
Nathan nodded and climbed the stairs. He paused at Amanda’s room, and tapped on her door, willing her to be in the room, waiting for him. His heart pounded in anticipation as he turned the knob and pushed open the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Amanda awakened to a tapping on her door. She blinked in the darkness. Where was she?
“Spokane in ten minutes, Miss.” The cabin attendant’s voice was hushed, as if he didn’t want to awaken anyone else.
Amanda gasped and pushed herself upright to peer blearily out of the window. Glowing lights twinkled in the distant darkness. A jolt of the train indicated that they had switched tracks, and the familiar screeching of the brakes suggested they were slowing.
Acute grief coursed through her veins. She hadn’t traveled back in time, had she? The glass of the window, the small twin bed, the cabin attendant’s voice, even the lights in the night all indicated she had done nothing more than travel from Seattle to Spokane...in the present. She hadn’t managed to wish herself back to 1906. Wenatchee had come and gone, and she’d slept through the entire trip.
She pressed a fist against her mouth to fight back a scream. No! No! If she hadn’t traveled back in time, it was because Nathan was really dead, wasn’t it? He was no longer there waiting for her. Why hadn’t she made it to 1906? Or even 1905, before Nathan disappeared? He’d said the women he knew traveled at will. Well, two of them did. Why couldn’t she? What had she missed?
Amanda blinked back the ready tears, took a deep breath and lifted her chin. That was okay! She’d ride the train again and again and again until she managed to go back in time. And if she managed to get back to 1906, and Nathan was still dead, she’d find a way to travel back even earlier.
She was no stranger at riding the train, that was certain. That would not be a problem. She took a deep breath and stood, pulling the door open and peering out into the hallway. The cabin attendant stood by the car door in preparation for their arrival. He spotted her, nodded politely and returned his attention to the train car window. She had only paid fare through to Spokane, and he would open the door for her to detrain. No other passengers huddled in the hall beside him, so she assumed she was the only one getting off in Spokane. Where she was going to go, she had no idea. She hadn’t planned on arriving in Spokane in the middle of the night in the twenty-first century.
“What time is it?” she asked as she came to stand by the young man.
He checked his watch. “Three-thirty, ma’am. We’re running about two hours late.”
She leaned against the wall next to the luggage rack to balance herself against the jostling while the train switched tracks again.
“I don’t remember. Did you have any baggage?”
Amanda shook her head. “No,” she replied briefly. “What time does the train going west come through?”
He pulled a plastic card from his back pocket and consulted it.
“It’s supposed to arrive in Spokane at one-forty and leave at two-fifteen,” he said, stowing his card, “but I think I see the train right over there.” He peered out the window as the train slowed to a crawl. “They must be running late, too. I’m sure they’ll pull out soon.”
Amanda noticed a stack of Seattle newspapers that had been stashed in a spare spot on the luggage rack. A large headline caught her eye, and she craned her neck to see it. Something about politics, the same story they had been covering for weeks. Nothing new. How many days had they covered the story? Her eyes strayed to the date of the newspaper, and she stiffened. It wasn’t possible. The date was October 15, 2013. She had boarded the train on October 22nd! With a shaking hand, she fished in her skirt pocket for her ticket.
Yes, October 22, 2013. The ticket was dated October 22, 2013. She had traveled back in time, just not far enough. She eyed the cabin attendant. He was the same young man who had taken her ticket when she boarded...last week.
“Hey, I was wondering, do you remember taking my ticket when I got on the tra
in in Seattle?”
He turned a distracted eye to her. “Yes, ma’am.”
“What day was it?”
His eyes narrowed, and he looked down at her skirt before raising his eyes to her face. “Tuesday.”
“No, I mean what was the date?”
He shook his head as the train stopped. “The date? You mean yesterday? October 15th.” He turned away from her and pulled open the door. Grabbing the metal step, he set it outside. Stepping down, he held out a hand for her.
“Thank you for traveling with us, ma’am,” he said as he nodded and moved away down to the track toward the station.
Amanda stood in the cold, staring around the train depot in the diffused lights from the lampposts. The train heading west toward Seattle hugged the track on the other side of the concrete platform, poised as if it were ready to leave. Workers still filled the cars with potable water, and several insomniac passengers loitered near the doors.
She wrapped her arms around herself and thought quickly. Should she hurry down to the station to buy a ticket for the other train? Was there time? What on earth would she do in Spokane until the train heading west came through tomorrow night?
She turned to hurry for the station. She would buy a ticket now.
“Amanda?”
As she neared the entrance to the upper level of the station, she thought she heard a voice. She stopped, instinctively looking for Nathan huddled by the station. She turned in that direction, but no one leaned against the brick wall of the building.
“Amanda?”
The voice was female. Amanda swung around. A woman stood on the platform looking at her, a backpack slung over her shoulders. Though she wore a jacket, black leggings and knee-high boots, something about the upswept style of her hair seemed out of place. Amanda raised a hand to her own hair, now hopelessly bedraggled and half hanging down her back in a ponytail.
The stranger moved forward to grasp her hand.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
Amanda shook her head carefully. Beyond the small woman, she saw the passengers of the westbound train boarding. She galvanized into action.
