He nodded.
“How the hell did you end up in Pennsylvania?”
Jamie dragged his hands down his face. “Emma, just be patient, okay? I know it’s not your strong suit, and that you hate surprises, but all will be revealed.”
She continued to pluck at the ribbon as she leaned her head against the parlor car window. If people in period clothing didn’t surround her, she might have fooled herself into thinking she was on a train to Seattle. The terrain whizzing by her wasn’t much different.
Jamie had insisted she smooth some foundation over her bruise. In the light of the morning, it had turned a nasty purple color, and he didn’t want people staring too closely at her. She still got strange looks from a few of the passengers, but chalked it up to the glasses she refused to take off. If she were being whisked away to some strange fantasyland, she wanted to see it coming.
The whistle blew and the train chugged to a slow crawl as they pulled into Harrisburg Station. Jamie glanced out the window. “Fuck me,” he breathed out.
Emma’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”
Jamie groaned. “Your sister.”
“What about her?”
“She’s here.”
“She is?” Emma plastered her face to the window. “Where? I don’t see her.”
Jamie pointed to a carriage just to the left of the platform. “See that beast of a horse there?”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “The beautiful chestnut Morgan that could only be described as magnificent?”
“You are related.” Jamie shook his head. “Anyway, that’s Samson. Your sister’s beloved bane of my existence. If he’s here, then she is.”
“Oh! There. There she is.” Emma waved frantically and jumped up and down in her seat. “She’s stunning, Jamie. Look at her!”
Jamie chuckled. “I’m aware of her magnificence.”
Sophie turned her head toward the window and held her hand over her forehead to shield her eyes. Emma saw her gasp, even if she couldn’t hear it, and then Sophie lifted her skirts as if to run.
Jamie frantically signed something to her through the window, and Emma grimaced when she dropped her skirts and crossed her arms. “Oh, she’s pissed now, Jamie.”
A beautiful, petite woman squeezed Sophie’s elbow and Emma studied her. Strawberry-blonde hair framed a heart shaped-face, and Emma noticed larger-than-life blue eyes. She said something to Sophie, but Sophie continued to glare at the window.
Jamie slammed his hat on his head. “I’m sure it’ll get worse before it gets better.”
“Why?”
“I left without telling her.”
Emma looped an arm around Jamie’s neck as he steadied her. “Well, that was dumb.”
“What was dumb was telling Christine what I was doing.” He sighed as they hobbled down the aisle. “She can’t keep anything from your sister.”
“No one can keep anything from Sophie.”
“True.” They reached the doorway and Jamie stepped in front of her. “I’ll lift you down. Just make sure you have your bag secure.” He jumped onto the platform and held his hands up. Emma laid her hands on his shoulders and let him pull her from the small ledge. Jamie wrapped his arm around her waist and raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”
Emma shook her head. “I’m in pain and I gotta pee. What do you think?”
“Nice. Okay, let’s face the music.”
They’d barely reached the edge of the platform when a flash of fabric came swooping in, wrapping her arms around Emma, and bursting into tears. “Oh, Emma. Where did you come from?”
Emma mirrored her sister’s emotions and the two sobbed and hugged, then sobbed and hugged some more.
Jamie wrapped his arm around both of them and squeezed. “We should get back to the house, Ten-Cow. People are starting to stare.”
Jamie had given Sophie the nickname when they’d gotten engaged. He said it was based on a fable about a farmer with three daughters and their bride prices. A young man worked for a year to save up enough to give ten cows and other livestock to the father to pay the youngest daughter’s price. Jamie said that Sophie was his ten-cow woman.
Sophie pulled away and stomped her foot. “I don’t give a flying fuck about people staring. I have my baby sister standing in front of me. And you, husband of mine…” she hissed as she jabbed a finger into his chest, “…are in big ass trouble.”
He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “I know, baby. But before you kill me, let’s get your sister home. She has a badly sprained ankle.”
Sophie gasped. “Oh, no, what happened?”
“Sweetheart. Home. Now.” Jamie lifted Emma into his arms and settled her into the carriage. Sophie muttered under her breath as she climbed up beside her. Jamie turned to the woman who’d spoken to Sophie earlier and tipped his hat. “Hello, Christine. Good to see someone can keep a secret around here.”
Christine stood her ground. “She guessed.”
“I’ll bet.”
Christine climbed into the driver’s side of the carriage and Jamie glanced up at Sophie. “I’m assuming you’d like me to ride Samson?”
Sophie wrinkled her nose. “Oops, I forgot about him. Yes, please.” Jamie grinned and squeezed her leg. Sophie pushed his hand away. “I’m still mad.”
“I know, baby.” He tipped his hat and mounted Samson.
Christine released the brake and clicked the horse ahead. The buggy jarred forward and Emma grimaced as her ankle whacked the side. Emma didn’t notice anything on the drive home. Her focus was on the tiny elves driving mallets to her leg, but she absolutely refused to cry until she was behind closed doors.
She vaguely registered the sound of Christine setting the brake, and then she felt strong arms wrap around her waist. She forced her eyes open and leaned against Jamie with a sigh.
“Just a few more minutes, Em.”
Emma slid an arm around his neck. “Where are we?”
“Dr. Wade and his wife, Norine, graciously allow us to live with them. You’ll meet them soon, and I know they’ll adore you.”
Emma’s jaw fell open as they approached the large home of the doctor. The scene before her looked like something out of a romance novel, and the brick Federal style manor reminded her of “The Patriot.” Seven steps led to a cobblestone porch, housing two large white doors bidding entrance and an iron doorknocker with a lion’s head motif. Jamie followed Sophie through the front door and up the stairs.
Christine closed the door behind them. “I’ll find Mary and get ice.”
“Thanks, Christine,” Sophie called as they continued down the hall. She glanced over her shoulder and then forward again. “Betty prepared the yellow room for her.”
The threesome made their way into the yellow room and Emma almost laughed out loud. It was totally frilly. Not her style at all, but Sophie’s to a T. A large iron bed seemed dwarfed in the spacious room. Someone had started a fire and the room was already warmer than the hallway. Two high-backed chairs faced the hearth, and a small round table was nestled between them. Jamie set Emma down on the bed and her gaze swept the room.
An intricately carved walnut armoire and matching bureau flanked two windows, which were just big enough for a person to climb through. The furniture shone with a deep luster that could only have come from elbow grease and copious amounts of beeswax.
Yellow wallpaper covered every wall, and the daffodils on the china pitcher and bowl matched the color perfectly. An embroidered quilt covered the bed, varying squares of yellow made up the design. “It looks like a daffodil threw up in here,” Emma said.
Sophie giggled. “I know what you mean. It’s a little over the top, but I still love it.”
A knock on the open door brought a tall man, dark blond hair graying at the temples, and a quick smile from a somewhat weathered face. “Christine mentioned there was someone hurt.”
Jamie waved him in. “Yes. Michael, this is Sophie’s sister, Emma.”
“It’s very nice
to meet you.” Michael knelt down before her.
“Nice to meet you, too,” she murmured as she shifted on the bed.
“Emma wrote that she would visit when the baby came, so we weren’t expecting her for some time. I hope it’s all right for her to stay.”
Michael chuckled. “James, this is your home as well, you may invite whomever you please. Besides, any sister of Sophie’s will be loved by the Simmonds women, no doubt about that.” He turned back to Emma. “Let’s see the extent of the damage.”
Michael examined Emma, and Jamie stood next to the fireplace while Sophie paced the room.
“Well, young lady, you appear to have a nasty sprain, but nothing is broken.” Michael patted her hand. “I’ll get you some ice from the icehouse at the edge of the property and you should keep your foot elevated for the next few days. I’ll send Betty in with the supplies.”
“Thank you.” Emma smiled.
He gathered his medical bag and stood. “Welcome to our home, Miss Wellington.”
The doctor left and Jamie stepped outside so that Emma could change. Sophie steadied Emma as she slid from the bed. Once Emma’s day dress was removed, Sophie loosened her laces. Sophie started to cry again and pulled out a handkerchief just as a maid walked through the door with extra blankets and ice. Sophie gave a half-smile. “Thank you, Betty.”
Betty wrapped Emma’s ankle with the ice, elevating her foot with a pillow, and then quietly left the room. Sophie hugged Emma, then hugged her again, before poking her head into the hallway. Jamie stepped inside, closed the door, and pulled a chair close to the bed for Sophie.
Emma’s hand shook as she linked her fingers with Sophie’s. “What’s really going on? The whole story.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Jamie asked.
Emma grimaced. “I went to the library… that freakin’ room has always creeped me out. Now I know why.”
Sophie squeezed her hand. “What happened then?”
“The room disappeared. Well, the room in front of me did.” Emma shook her head in confusion. “I’m not making sense. It was like I was looking through a bubble at something that wasn’t the library.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Did you see snow?”
Emma’s eyes widened. “No, a barn.”
“Really?”
Sophie and Jamie exchanged a glance.
“What?” Emma asked.
“I saw snow,” Sophie said. “Above my bed. The ceiling disappeared.”
“And I saw a field,” Jamie said.
Emma raised an eyebrow. “In the library?”
Jamie nodded. “Yes, as you said, it was like the room had disappeared.”
“Yeah, exactly.” Emma smoothed her hand over one of the patches on the quilt. “Did you cut yourself at some point? We found blood in the library.”
Jamie shook his head slowly. “No, I was shot.”
Emma’s head whipped up. “Excuse me?”
“I was shot.”
“Did someone break in? Or a drive by?”
Jamie lifted his shirt and revealed a puckered scar on his ribcage. “I was shot from a Civil War bullet, through the rift in time, or portal, whatever you want to call it.”
“Shut up!”
“Weird, huh?” Sophie grimaced.
“Have we really been sent back in time?”
“Yes.”
Emma began to shake. Sophie moved to the bed. “Shh, it’s okay, baby sister.” Sophie pulled her close and rubbed her back.
Emma let the events of the past year and a half wash over her. “We thought you were dead.”
“I know, honey. I know.” Sophie leaned back. “Where did you end up?”
Jamie handed Emma his handkerchief and she took a deep breath and blew her nose. “I ended up in some guy’s carriage house.” Emma gasped. “Oh, my… a black boy found me… does that mean he was a slave?”
Jamie shook his head. “Clayton doesn’t own slaves.”
“Clayton? As in, Clayton Madden?” Sophie squealed. “I thought you said Andrew found her?”
Emma groaned. “You know him?”
“Andrew, yes. Clayton, not so much.” Sophie scowled at her husband. “You better start explaining, Jamie.”
Jamie held his hands up. “Okay, slow down. Both of you. Let’s start at the middle and then we’ll go back to the beginning. How did you guess what I was doing?”
Sophie slid off the mattress and crossed her arms. “It’s not like it was hard. You were all weird yesterday when you stopped in with Topper.”
“How was I weird?”
“You were all wound up. And don’t think I didn’t pick up on Christine suddenly going for food. We’d just eaten.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Did you accost her right away, or wait until I left?”
“I didn’t put the pieces together until after you left. And for your information, Christine wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really.” Sophie flailed her hands. “Topper’s the one who spilled the beans about the note, and I figured something was up when Christine growled at him.” Sophie turned to Emma. “Christine does not growl at anyone for any reason.”
Emma nodded. “Noted.”
Jamie dragged his hands down his face. “How did you know about the train, Sophie?”
Sophie smirked. “Well, apparently, you’ve underestimated me, my darling husband, because I took Samson down to the telegraph office and charmed the man behind the counter.”
“You, what?” he snapped. “Alone?”
Sophie waved her finger in accusation. “Don’t even! I told him that the original message had been slightly marred and asked if he could fill in the blanks for me.”
“Meaning, with the right look here, and a little bite of the lip there, he read the entire thing to you, right?”
“Sort of,” Sophie mumbled.
“Sophie.” Jamie’s voice pitched low in warning.
“What? You don’t really need to know the rest. All you need to know is that I figured it out.”
Jamie stared at her for several seconds and then his eyes widened. “Sophie Jane, what did you wear to get that information?”
“Sophie!” Emma suddenly got an attack of the giggles.
Jamie advanced on his wife. “Sophie, you’d better tell me you did not wear that god damned blue jacket.”
Sophie raised her chin, her expression impassive. “I did not wear the blue jacket.”
Jamie’s shoulders sagged in relief and Sophie turned to face Emma, squeezing her eyes shut and mumbling, “I wore the green.”
Emma jumped when Jamie swore. “Are you kidding me, Sophie?”
Sophie spun around. “Well, I had to know what you were up to! Getting information out of Christine is pointless once she’s promised not to tell, and Topper’s loyalty to you is annoying.”
“What kind of a name is Topper?” Emma mumbled, although no one heard her.
Sophie continued to rant, “I’m the one who nursed the child back to freakin’ health. Topper should fall at my feet… but, no, it’s all about you.”
“Why do you think I took them into my confidence?” Jamie retorted. “I can’t believe you rode into town without an escort.”
“And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about Andrew’s suspicions at the beginning!”
Jamie dropped his hands onto her shoulders. “Sophie, what if it hadn’t been Emma? What if it really was someone else from the future sent back to hurt you again? He didn’t want to take that chance.”
“Hello…” Emma waved her hand. “Can someone please fill me in on who this Andrew person is? Other than a total dick?”
Sophie gasped. “Dick? No, no, babe, you cannot be talking about Andrew Simmonds.”
“Um, if it’s the guy with the limp and nasty scar on his face, then yes I can. He totally threatened me in the hottie’s office.” Emma slapped her hand over her mouth and then mumbled, “I mean, Mr. Madden’s of
fice.”
Sophie sat back on the bed. “We’ll address the hottie comment later, but right now, I want to know what happened with Drew.”
Emma filled them in on the scene and Sophie groaned. “Oh, Em. I’m so sorry. You must have been terrified. Andrew and Christine are the only two people who know about our, um, situation. They’re related, by the way.”
Jamie chuckled. “Sophie, focus.”
“Right.” Sophie squeezed Emma’s hand. “Anyway, someone tried to kill me—”
“What?”
“Long story.” Sophie waved her hand dismissively. “Andrew and Jamie were instrumental in finding him. Andrew pulled Clayton Madden in for some help, but told him nothing, and I think he was trying to keep Clayton from getting suspicious.”
Jamie poured water into a glass. “Andrew filled me in on what he said to you, Em. He’s going to be home in a couple of days, so be prepared for an apology. He feels terrible.”
“Seriously. He’s a lot like Luke. He probably won’t sleep knowing he’s offended you.” Sophie giggled. “You should absolutely make him suffer, though.”
“Sophie Jane!”
Sophie shrugged. “What, Jamie? He’s part of the reason she’s hurt and the whole reason I was kept out of the loop. So, yes, Em. Make him suffer.”
Emma took the glass of water from Jamie and sipped. “I most certainly will.”
A KNOCK AT the door brought servants carrying a large copper tub, followed by more who filled it. Betty poured lavender essence into the water and then set thick towels on the chair closest to the fire. Sophie took a deep breath and promptly threw up into the bowl on the bureau.
Emma let out a quiet squeal. “Are you sick?”
Jamie handed Sophie a washcloth and rubbed her back. “Not sick, per se.”
Emma tried to shuffle off the bed. “Are you—?”
“Don’t move, Em. You’ll hurt yourself.” Sophie held her hand up. “Yes, I’m pregnant.”
Emma clapped her hands and burst into tears. Sophie hugged Emma once her nausea calmed and then shoved Jamie out of the room. She turned the lock in the door and made her way to the bed. Emma gripped her sister’s hand as she gingerly climbed to the ground and hobbled to the tub.
“How are we going to do this?” Sophie murmured.
The Bride Found (Civil War Brides Book 2) Page 5
