"What about you, Adam? Would you like some ice cream as well?"
"Adam, say yes," Chloe said pushing her head back into the rest of the toddler seat.
"Adam…answer."
It was heartbreaking. Adam barely communicated with anyone and rarely acknowledged him. Austin thought he just needed time to get used to his mother not being around. But it had been a few months now, and he was starting to worry, especially since he’d be starting school soon.
"I'm talking to you, Adam. Please answer." He looked back at the little boy whose attention was focused on the Rubik cube.
Austin decided to try a different approach. "How did you line them up so fast?" he asked, noticing all sides were matched up perfectly.
"He's not going to answer you," Chloe said.
Truth be told, she'd done enough talking for the both of them, always asking questions about everything.
“When is Mommy coming back?"
“I'm not sure, honey." He didn't think she would be, not after six months but he wasn't about to take away her hope. When he looked into her eyes, he could see she too wondered if her mother would ever be back.
Every day a blanket of guilt swathed him. He loved the three kids but had no idea how he was going to be both father and mother to them. However, the only other option would be foster care and he wasn’t about to do that. As long as he was breathing, he’d do whatever it took to provide for them.
They pulled up to the diner. “Let’s go say hi to Moira.”
“Yay,” Chloe shouted, tugging at the seat belt.
Austin came around and opened the back door.
“I told you. I’m the only one who can unlock the seatbelt, remember?”
“I forgot,” she said in her small voice.
“Just try to remember because it’s important.” Austin unlatched her and the other two kids.
Chloe nodded.
After getting them all out the car, he opened the door to Moira’s place, looking forward to a hot meal. She and others in the community had helped him out so much over the last few months. He was sure he would have been lost without her.
When he got in, she was talking to a lady sitting at the counter. She smiled, holding up a finger. He nodded and smiled back as they took their seats.
Chloe was chatting away as usual and in between his replies, he kept glancing over at the woman Moira had been talking to. He only had a side view, but something about her fascinated him, even with her wearing the strange-looking plaid dress that resembled a tablecloth. She definitely wasn’t from around there. What was her story?
The blonde had placed her face in her hands and slouched over. Moira patted her on the back before turning to walk away.
“Moira,” Chloe shouted, as she neared the table, spreading her arms out for a hug.
“How’s my favorite family doing?” She leaned over and hugged Chloe tightly.
“We’re good,” Austin said, still drawn to the woman at the counter as he looked over Moira’s shoulder.
“I see something, or should I say, someone, has caught your attention.”
Was it that evident? He shook his head and smiled. “Who is she anyway?”
“Her name is Emma-Jean, she’s not from around here.”
“I kind of figured that much,” he said, removing his hat and placing it on Hanna’s head. She’d been reaching for it since they sat down. “What’s her story?”
“I’m glad you asked because I think I have the perfect solution to your problems?”
“I doubt it, unless you’re planning on moving in with us full-time.”
She laughed. “I wish I could but this place doesn’t run itself, you know.”
“I’m just fooling around. Anyway, I’m listening,” he said, folding his arms in front of him.
“Well, I may have found someone who can help you out around the ranch and with the kids. And get this, she may even consider being a live-in nanny for shelter and small wages.”
Focusing on what Moira said was a little hard with him being so intrigued by the woman at the counter. Plus, Chloe was trying to order enough food to feed a small army.
He rubbed his hand over his face and took another look at the lady he’d been unable to keep his eyes off since arriving at the diner. He’d been subtly gawking over at the stranger for too long. Now he needed to focus on what Moira was saying.
“And I want a burger, and fries, and chicken soup, and—” Chloe continued, pointing to everything on the menu. When did she learn how to read so well anyway, he wondered?
“I don’t know. Sounds like one of those too good to be true deals. Anyway, who is this person? And has she worked with children before?”
“Yes, she has. But I’m afraid she can’t provide references so you’ll have to just trust me. I’m vouching for her.”
He had no problem with that. A reference from Moira was all he needed to say yes. She loved the children just as much as he did. As a matter of fact, at least twice a month she’d come pick them up for a night out just so he could have a mini break.
“You know I’m more than okay with that. But how will she feel about helping take care of a child with asthma?”
“Well, you can ask her yourself but I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”
He sighed. “Okay, when can I meet her?”
“How does right now sound?”
He followed Moira’s eyes over to the direction of the woman at the counter.
“No way!”
A Hard Pill to Swallow
Emma-Jean had felt like she’d just woken up from the weirdest dream of her life. And it seemed like she was still feeling the aftermath of it. She’d lifted her weighted head just a little before falling back and placing her hand to it, hoping to cater to her throbbing pain.
“Try moving a little slower,” a voice had said.
Emma-Jean had shot up, knocking over the water Moira had offered her.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Emma-Jean had said, looking down at the mess.
“Don’t worry, it’s just water.”
She’d looked up at the woman. “Why are you dressed like that?”
The woman had laughed, strolling over to her desk to grab some old newspapers.
“I’m Moira Lockhart. Cissie Dunham is my relative but I assure you, we’re not the same person. Everyone always think we’re the same but trust me, we’re not.” She’d continued to soak up the water.
Emma-Jean had followed her every movement, listening as she spoke. “Anyway, you have something for me?”
“Oh, yes.” Emma-Jean had reached for the paper inside her pocket, remembering the name Moira.
“Are you two twins or something? We had a set of twins back home but we all knew who was who because one had freckles and the other didn’t.” Emma-Jean had handed her the letter.
“No, we’re not.” Moira has said as she’d opened and read it. Emma-Jean had watched her eyes scan over the paper, wondering what was on it.
“Ah. So, I see.” She’d folded the letter and placed it on a nearby table.
“Well, what does it say?”
“Basically, that you belong here, and I’m supposed to take good care of you.”
Emma-Jean had observed Moira. She’d though, surely, she’d been the one to write the letter. So why had she been pretending not to know what was on it or that maybe, it was her twin sister.
Anyway, she’d wondered why was she even talking to this balled-up woman instead of just getting up and walking out. Even with no place to go, she could find something better to do with her time other than allow some lonely woman, who was playing dress-up, to confuse her.
“Okay, I’m leaving now,” she’d said, rising and walking to the door to open it. Looking in one direction, then the other, she wondered why things seemed so different.
Emma-Jean had walked to the back where the kitchen was and Moira had followed her.
“Am I not still at the boarding house?” she’d asked, turning around.
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“No, you’re not. However, if you follow me back into my office, I’ll get your stuff and explain everything.”
Emma-Jean hadn’t wanted an explanation. She’d just wanted to get her bag and leave. How had this woman moved her from one location to another without her knowing? The people in Texas were crazier than the ones in Kansas, she thought.
“Please just come with me” Moira had led the way back to her office with Emma-Jean in tow.
“Have a seat, and I’ll get your stuff.”
Emma-Jean had watched as the woman dug inside a trunk and pulled out some clothes, shoes, and an old newspaper. Then Moira sat across from her.
“So, I know you don’t believe that you’ve traveled in time but you did.”
Emma-Jean had thought it was unbelievable that she was still on the whole-time travel fantasy. Also, for things to be so different, she’d wondered how long she’d been out for. Surely it had taken some time for her to put this all into place.
“You know what, let me just show you.” Moira had stood and reached for Emma-Jean’s hand to bring her to the window.
“Look.” Moira had pulled the drapes back.
Emma-Jean’s eyes had grown big as she stared outside at the large, fast-moving, rolling machines that slightly resembled the steam wagons she’d only seen a few times. But these moved much faster. Her arms fell to her sides and she’d shaken her head. “Impossible,” she’d said, blinking rapidly. She’d stepped back, then deciding she needed another look, had moved forward again. “And unnerving.”
She’d scrambled to make sense of it all.
“And this.” Moira had handed her two newspapers, one from 1880 with President Rutherford B. Ford on it and one from 2017 with the headline reading President Trump.
“I just can’t believe what I’m seeing. Did I die or something? Wait, no. This can’t be where you go when you die.” She’d turned and started to pace the floor. Clenching the waist of her dress, she’d started to fan herself.
Moira had ushered her back to the couch.
Emma-Jean had stared openly at her.
“You didn’t die. You’ve traveled through time.” Moira had pulled out the timepiece and opened it. “Do you remember this?”
“Oh my God. That’s what you, I mean, she, Miss Dunham, showed me before sending me here.” She’d waved her hand in the air as if to disperse the confusion.
“Yes. This timepiece only works when someone is in the wrong time. Once you’re transported to the future or past, it starts to slow down, until it eventually stops. When this happens, you’re stuck living wherever you are at that time.”
Emma-Jean had leaned back and placed her hand on her forehead.
“But what if I want to go back?”
“Then you can, anytime, as long as the hands are still moving. But I suggest you at least give it a chance. You just might end up wanting to stay.”
Moira had patted her knee before grabbing the items she’d pulled out of the trunk.
“If you do stay, I suggest you change into something more of this time,” she’d said, nodding toward the dress sitting next to Emma-Jean. She’d lifted it into the air and ran her hand across it. The dress had been paper thin, even more so than the slips Miss Freeman had owned.
“Oh no. I can’t wear that. It’s improper.”
Moira had smiled. “Trust me, it’s not. And before long, you’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t think so.” Emma-Jean had tilted her head to take a second look.
“You will,” Moira had continued, lifting a pair of sandals. “And you can wear these shoes, they’re closed toe so you should be fine.”
Emma-Jean had looked at the shoes. “What do you mean by closed toe?”
“Your toes are covered.”
“But aren’t all shoes closed toe?”
“Not in the future.” She’d leaned over and picked up a packet of something else.
“Now this may be a little harder to adjust to.” Emma-Jean had felt her eyes grow big, hearing the loud pop as Moira had opened the strange material of the packet and pulled out the fabric.
“Is that some kind of sleep cap?”
Moira had covered her mouth. “No, my dear, these are undergarments.”
Emma-Jean had dropped them to the floor. “No way.”
Moira picked them up and sat them next to the dress. “Yes, they are. And these are a full pair that covers everything. Though, they may be a little big on you. I promise, you’ll be fine.”
Emma-Jean’s eyes had been still fixed on the underwear. She’d leaned forward and whispered, “Are you wearing these?”
“Yes I am.” Moira had chuckled, rising to her feet.
“Now, what do you say we put all this to the side for now, and you come sit up front with me while I get some work done?”
Emma-Jean had thought about it for a few seconds. Realizing it was all just too much, she’d made up her mind.
“I want to go back.”
Moira had sighed, clapping her hands on her thighs.
“Okay, but can I at least tend to my dinner customers. I won’t be long, maybe a couple of hours max.”
“I don’t see any harm in that. As long as you send me back soon.”
Moira had agreed.
She didn’t know exactly what happened or how it had happened, but Emma-Jean concluded, something had brought her to the future.
Still, there was no way she would stay. It was just too different from what she was used to.
Emma-Jean had wrapped her arms around her stomach. Nerves had gotten the better of her and she’d jumped every time the bell rang when people went in and out.
Moira had sat a glass of water in front her and handed her two pills. “Here you go.”
“What’s this?” she’d asked, looking at the pills.
“Medicine for your head pain.”
Hesitantly, she’d put the pills in her mouth and swallowed hard. Then picked up the water and drunk the full glass.
“You’re probably used to powders, these can take some getting used to,” Moira had said, refilling the glass.
Emma-Jean had hesitated to ask but felt it was the proper thing to do.
“Can I help you with anything?” She’d hoped Moira would tell her no. Everything had looked scary including the strange rolling thing that was perhaps a modern type of baby carriage—it had held the toddler who’d just come in—the man pushing it was certainly handsome.
“No. I’m okay, but here. You can read this while I tend to the crowd.”
Emma-Jean had looked down at the newspaper. One thing had stood out in particular—with the big red circle around the words “Children’s Caretaker Wanted.” Her heart had skipped a beat. She’d gone on to read the rest. “Single-father seeks live in caretaker. Free room and board plus wages. Must love kids.” She knew this was the next best thing to being a schoolmarm.
Could it really be that easy she’d asked herself? It was perfect. She’d waited patiently for Moira to return. Busying herself with rearranging the condiments, she’d smiled, biting slightly on her lower lip. It would be the perfect arrangement. And hopefully, in four months when Gracie turned eighteen, she would have a place all ready for her.
But then, she’d been hit with a sudden awareness. If what Moira had said was true, how would she get back to Gracie? “Oh no, Gracie!” she’d gasped, remembering the letter she’d sent, informing her of her uncle’s passing.
Just then Moira came back to the counter, and Emma-Jean came back to the present moment.
“Why the long face? I thought you’d be happy. According to Cissie, you were looking to become a schoolmarm. Being a caretaker for children is good too. Plus, you need a degree to work as a teacher, I mean…a schoolmarm. At least this way, you can get paid for doing what you love, while we figure out how to get you the training you need to teach children. If you decide to stay.”
Emma-Jean dropped the newspaper onto the counter and released a long sigh. “This w
ould have been great but I wish you hadn’t shown it to me. You knew this would make me want to stay?”
“I didn’t but I’d hope it would make you reconsider.”
“But I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I made someone a promise.”
“But your letter said you were alone.”
“I am, but there’s Gracie. I met her at the orphan home, and she’ll be turning eighteen soon. When she does, Miss Freeman will put her out. I was supposed to find her uncle and have him send for her, but I found out he’s no longer living. So you see, I have to get back. I’m all she has.” Emma-Jean lowered her head.
Moira came from behind the counter and rubbed her shoulder. “I do see. You made a promise, and of course, you have to keep it.”
Emma-Jean considered her options a bit longer. This was her first bit of good luck and it appeared she’d have to forfeit it.
“I tell you what, why don’t you spend a few weeks here, and we try to figure out something together. Gracie won’t expect you for months so we have time to come up with something,” Moira said reassuringly.
Emma-Jean nodded. Besides, she had no other plans. “Okay.”
“Good.”
“But do you think I can get this position?” she asked, pointing at the newspaper.
Moira nodded, pursing her lips together. “I sure do, and I’m pretty certain you can start fairly quickly.”
Hello Sunshine
Austin got up two hours earlier just to make sure things were in order for when Emma-Jean arrived. The plan was for her to come by every morning at six and stay until eight at night, just for now. She’d been uncomfortable with the idea of staying with a man. Austin understood and had decided it was better to have part-time help rather than no help at all. There was no need to mess things up by insisting she moved in. However, working such long hours, it would be a good idea for Emma-Jean to have her own space. So, anxious as well, Chloe had helped him prepare the guestroom the night before.
But if he was to be completely honest with himself, instead of hiring a caretaker, it felt more like he was getting ready for a job interview. He should have been happy but instead, he was more nervous and anxious than anything. What if she thought he was a slouch? Or what if she quit on her first day because things were just too much? Caring for three children at once could be a handful. He needed this to work and he needed to get the mechanic shop back up and running.
Timeless Honor (Timeless Hearts #7) Page 4
