“When he came to, he pretended to still be out cold and heard one of the men say the Wade family were a threat to the Cary family, and that Travis and Christopher Wade had to be killed. Since Travis had already been killed in battle, they were sent to take care of Topper.”
Sophie gasped. “But why?”
“He said something about family allegiance and that if they weren’t successful, the Cary family would lose.”
Sophie started to pace. “Lose what?”
Emma squealed. “Oh, my… all that could be true.”
Sophie stalled. “What do you mean?”
“In the future, the Cary family maneuvered Senator Wade out of office.” Emma waved her hands in the air. “What if Topper had been killed? The name wouldn’t continue. Michael and Nona don’t have any children so Topper would be the last alive, right?”
Jamie nodded. “In theory, yes.”
“So, if they got rid of the last of the line, so to speak, the Cary family could continue to take over politics.”
Clayton raised an eyebrow. “How?”
“They travel back in time and get rid of their opposition.”
“Emma.” Clayton chuckled.
She wagged a finger at him. “Don’t use that tone. It’s all possible. Think about it. How did Topper learn a code used in a war eighty years in the future? Someone from the future would have had to teach it to him.”
Jamie glanced at Clayton. “She’s right, you know. As impossible as all of this seems, the fact is that it could have all happened exactly as she said.”
Clayton shrugged. “It doesn’t make a difference now.”
Emma’s head whipped up. “Why?”
“We’ve caught the men who tortured Topper, we have Rose in custody. It’s done.”
Sophie cocked her head and stared up at Jamie. “How do you know they are the men who tortured him?”
Jamie and Clayton shared a private glance, but stayed quiet.
Sophie rose to her feet. “Jamie? How do you know?”
“Topper confirmed it.”
“You made him confront the men who tried to kill him?” she snapped.
Jamie cupped her face and forced her to look at him. “Ten-Cow, they didn’t know he was there. He was hidden.”
“But won’t the men guess it’s him ratting him out?”
Jamie shook his head. “They don’t know that Topper’s the reason they were caught.”
Emma stood. “How could they not know?”
“These are bad men, Squirt,” Jamie explained. “They have a lot of sins to account for.”
“Do they know that?”
Clayton nodded. “Yes, sweetheart. They believe they have been brought up on war crimes, and since we’re certain they have committed more than even we have named, they will more than likely be hanged.”
“What about the man that followed Emma… the one with the scar?” Sophie asked. “He must have been the one who taught Topper the code. Can he just ‘poof’ his way back to the future?”
“He can’t now,” Jamie said.
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”
Clayton sighed. “He’s dead.”
“What about this Victor Cary person?” Sophie asked.
Emma waved a hand dismissively. “He’s in the future… or at least he was when I was. I’ll know him if he ever shows up.”
Sophie shuddered. “I still say we keep Topper close. Someone should be with him at all times.”
Jamie wrapped an arm around her back. “We can do that, love. In fact, it’s already in place.”
A knock at the door brought Walter with a note. Clayton read it quickly and then threw it into the fire. “I need to meet with Chris for a few hours.”
Emma slipped her hand into his arm. “Problem?”
He kissed her cheek. “Not at all. Just a logistical issue with the trip.”
“Wait.” Sophie groaned. “There’s something you should know.”
“What?”
“The President is sick, Clayton,” Sophie whispered. “He has smallpox.”
Clayton’s head whipped up. “Excuse me?”
Sophie grimaced. “It’s being kept quiet right now, but it’ll be announced a week after the Gettysburg Address.”
“No, that can’t be right.” Clayton shook his head. “Are you confusing the fact that Tad is sick?”
“No. Tad has something different. They think it’s complications from typhoid, but many people come to believe he may have some form of cancer.” Sophie waved her hand dismissively. “However, the President definitely has smallpox. It will take several weeks for him to get better.”
“He’s the picture of health,” Clayton argued.
Sophie stared at him for several seconds. “Is he, Clay? Think about it.”
Clayton paced the room and Emma frowned at her sister. Sophie gave her an apologetic shrug. “Have you ever had smallpox, Clayton?”
He paused. “No, I don’t believe so.”
Emma put her hand to her throat. “Oh, God, I didn’t think about this part of the past. What does that mean, Sophie? Will Clayton get it? What will that mean for him?”
Sophie grasped her sister’s hand. “Don’t borrow trouble, Em.” She turned back to Clayton. “Clayton, I remember Richard saying you had dairy cows at one point in your life, is that correct?”
“Yes, for years, we had several and we would get milk for both of our families.”
“Do you remember any childhood illnesses, specifically with spots?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, Tim and I both got this itchy, feverish rash when we were boys. They called it cowpox or something like that.”
Sophie’s shoulder’s sagged. “You should be fine.”
“What?” Emma hissed. “That’s it? ‘You should be fine’?”
“Emma, a doctor in England has discovered that milkmaids who got cowpox seemed to be immune to smallpox. They have been making immunizations from cowpox in England for a little while now. America isn’t far behind, it’s just not widely used,” Sophie said.
“What about the President?” Clayton frowned. “Is he in danger?”
Sophie glanced at Emma and Emma nodded her head. “You should tell him.”
“He dies?” Clayton scowled.
“No, no, not now.” Emma laid her hand on his knee.
“Not now? But, soon?”
“Clayton. The President will be assassinated in 1865,” Sophie said.
Clayton whipped around. “You’re speaking treason!”
Jamie stepped slightly in front of Sophie, but she pushed him away. “Clayton, I know this is really difficult, and if I could keep you in the dark and keep my conscience clear, I would. Lee surrenders to Grant on April 9, 1865. Lincoln will be assassinated on April 15, 1865.”
“By whom?”
“John Wilkes Booth.”
“The actor?” Clayton exclaimed. “That’s what Rose said.”
“It’s true.” Sophie sighed. “It’s not single-handed, but he’s the one who delivers the shot that kills him.”
“He’s shot?”
“Yes. He’s shot while at a play at Ford’s Theatre on April 14. He dies the next day.”
Emma linked her hand with his. “I know this is a lot to take in, Clay. There is so much information about all of this and now might not be the right time to go into it. You and I can sit down some time over the next few weeks and I’ll fill you in.”
Clayton cleared his throat and absently kissed Emma’s hand. “I must meet with Christopher. Excuse me.”
Once he’d left the room, Sophie wrapped her arms around her sister. “He’ll be fine, Em. Just give him time.”
* * *
Clayton didn’t return to the townhouse for several hours. When dinner came and went, Emma paced the parlor, worry growing rapidly by the minute.
“Em?”
She turned to the sound of her sister’s voice and her stomach growled at the tray Sophie held. “I don�
�t think that’ll be enough food.”
Sophie set the tray down on the sideboard and slid her arm around Emma’s shoulders. “Jamie went to find him.”
Tears slipped down Emma’s cheeks as she nodded and piled a plate full of food.
“He probably just got caught up in the plans, Em. You know how guys are.”
Emma pulled away from Sophie and shoved a piece of meat in her mouth, then resumed her pacing—and her nail biting. “Ouch!”
Sophie glanced at her. “What did you do?”
“I bit my nail too low.” Emma shook her hand out. “Damn it! Where is he?”
Emma heard the front door slam and then heavy footsteps on the stairs. She hurried out into the foyer to see Jamie handing his hat to Walter. “Where is he?”
Jamie nodded toward the stairs.
Emma lifted her skirts and rushed up the stairs. She let herself into their room and quietly closed the door. Clayton sat at the edge of their bed and stared off into space.
“Are you all right, honey?”
He ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know.”
Emma removed her clothing and pulled a nightgown on. She made her way to Clayton and silently began to unbutton his shirt. She slipped it from his shoulders and kissed his forehead. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his head on her chest. “I don’t know what to do with this information.”
“Shh. I know.”
“How do I stop it? I can’t let him die, Emma. I can’t.”
“I know.” Emma stroked the back of his neck. “It took a lot for Sophie to tell you. She didn’t know whether she should do anything to change history.”
Clayton nodded.
Emma lifted his chin. “Let’s go to bed.”
* * *
Emma woke while it was still dark and reached for Clayton. He wasn’t in bed. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Clay?”
“I’m here, sweet.” He stood by the window, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
She climbed out of bed and shivered as she walked over to him. He held the blanket open and she slid into his arms. “Are you okay?”
“Just a lot to think about.” He wrapped his arms around her. “You’re freezing. You should climb back into bed.”
“Only if you come with me.”
He kissed her. “Let me start a fire and then I’ll come back to bed.”
She ran and jumped back under the covers. “If you hadn’t ruined my warm nightgown, perhaps a fire wouldn’t be necessary.”
“If you’d sleep naked, perhaps I wouldn’t have ruined your warm nightgown.”
Emma giggled. “Hurry with that fire. I want you back in bed.”
He finished lighting the kindling and added a log. “What will you do to me in bed, sweetheart?”
“Mmmm, come over here and find out.”
By the time she was ready to sleep, the fire was somewhat unnecessary.
EMMA SLEPT UNTIL well past nine. Finding Clayton gone from their bed and room, she made her way downstairs to look for him. She arrived at the dining room to find fresh coffee and breakfast still laid out. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she turned when she heard the rustle of skirts.
“Hi,” Sophie said from the doorway.
“Hi.” Emma raised an eyebrow as she took her seat at the table. “Did you just wake up?”
“Who said I was awake?” Sophie grumbled as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table.
Christine walked through the door. “Good morning.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “You’re up late.”
Christine grinned. “I’ve been awake for several hours, my friend. Hattie and I went for a walk.”
Emma buttered her toast. “I wonder where the guys are.”
“I don’t know, but it’s too early for me to care.” Sophie popped a grape into her mouth.
“About what, love?” Jamie made his way over to kiss her.
Sophie presented her cheek. “About where you were and why you left our bed so early.”
Emma glanced back at the door. “Where’s Clayton?”
“He’s taking care of some last-minute travel details,” Jamie said.
“What are you doing up so early, anyway?” Sophie wrinkled her nose. “You never get up unless you have to.”
He stole a slice of orange from her plate. “Clayton woke me at eight. I nearly killed him for doing it, but he needed some information and since I happened to know the answers, I decided it would be safer for him if I took care of it, rather than waking you.”
“Ah, good thinking.”
Emma huffed. “So, when is my husband going to be back? Did he say?”
“I can’t imagine he’ll be long. He and Christopher are meeting again.”
“Well, I’d like to go for a ride.” Sophie pushed away from the table. “Anyone else?”
Emma took a last sip of coffee and rose to her feet. “I’ll go for a ride with you, Soph.”
“Great. How about you ride Samson? I’d like him to get used to you.”
“I’ll get the horses saddled while you girls change,” Jamie offered.
Jamie was just finishing up with Samson when the girls arrived. Emma stood at his head and began to speak quietly to him. She let him smell her hand and stroked his muzzle. She mounted him from the ground and he stood perfectly still.
“Should I be jealous?” Sophie stroked his nose. “Don’t go and fall in love with my sister, will you? You’re still my horse.”
The three of them took off toward the White House. This seemed to be their favorite morning jaunt and the horses knew exactly where to go. Their ride was cut short by the threat of snow, and they arrived back at the house an hour later. Emma guided Samson to the entrance of the carriage house and dismounted.
Jack took the reins from her. “Mrs. Madden, Mr. Madden is awaiting you in his office.”
“Thank you, Jack.” She glanced up at her sister. “I’ll see you in a few minutes?” She didn’t wait for Sophie’s answer. Rushing through the back door and into Clayton’s office, she found him sitting at his desk. “I don’t like waking up to find you gone.”
He stood and held his hand out to her. “Sorry, sweet. I got up early and didn’t want to disturb you.”
She removed her bonnet and gloves, dropped them on the desk, and took his hand. “Well, disturb me next time, please.”
“Gladly.” He kissed her. “Did you have a nice ride?”
“Yes, Samson is a magnificent horse. Are we all ready for Gettysburg?”
Clayton chuckled. “Yes, we are.”
“Good. I’m starved.” She strolled toward the door. “Up for a snack?”
Clayton followed with a grin. Emma removed her coat as they made their way to the parlor and dropped it on the bench by the front door before stepping into the warm room. Christine sat on the sofa reading a book.
“Where’s Hattie?”
Christine glanced up. “Walter escorted her on a walk.”
“Did he now?” Clayton raised an eyebrow.
“They like each other, Clay. Don’t make it difficult for them, okay?” Emma whispered as she pulled him over to the window.
“Walter loves every woman he meets.”
“Well, he likes her best.”
“All right, sweetheart.” He stroked his fingers gently down her cheek. “I’ll check with Sarah about a light repast.”
“Thank you.”
Clayton left the room and Emma sat next to Christine. Sophie fluttered in a few minutes later. “I’m freezing!”
“Melodramatic much?” Emma giggled. “Come by the fire and get warm.”
Emma heard the front door knocker and rose to her feet. “I’m assuming Walter won’t be getting that.” She made her way to the foyer and opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise. “Dr. Paxton? What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Madden. I was wondering if Christine Martin might be here.” He removed his hat. �
��I know she and your sister are close. I hoped she might have come to see her.”
Emma nodded. “She’s here, Dr. Paxton. Come in.”
“Thank you.” He stepped inside and Emma led him into the parlor.
“Christine.”
Christine jumped from the sofa and her book fell on the floor with a thud. “What are you doing here?”
Sophie rose to her feet. “We’ll give you some privacy.”
“Don’t bother, Sophie. Stephen was just leaving.” Christine crossed her arms and moved to the window.
Stephen closed the distance between them. “I’m not leaving, Christine.”
“Yes, you are.” She tried to escape, but he caught her arm.
“I’m not leaving.”
“What are you doing here?” Christine pulled out of his grasp. “How is it possible you were able to break away from the hospital? How long were you planning on staying? How did you find me?”
Stephen laughed quietly. “I’m here because I love you. Dr. Palmer allowed me a short leave. I will need to return tomorrow and I asked Michael where you went.”
Christine hissed. “I can’t believe he told you where I was!”
“He didn’t, Nona did.”
Christine fisted her hands at her side. “Traitorous sister!”
“Christine, I’m not going to let you run away from me.” He took her arm again. “I’m not that easily put off.”
“Why is that, Stephen? I can’t marry you.”
“You can’t or won’t, Christine?”
“What difference does it make?”
“It doesn’t make a difference.” He stroked her cheek. “Because you don’t have a valid argument.”
Christine tried again to pull away from him. “Stephen! This is ridiculous.”
“Yes, I agree. It is ridiculous.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Christine broke the kiss. “I can’t do this, Stephen, it’s too much.”
Stephen shrugged. “Christine, I love you. We can take this slowly and I’ll wait as long as you need. I just don’t want you to deny what you feel. Can you do that?”
Christine glanced at Sophie and her face reddened. “We’re not alone,” she whispered.
“Look at me, Christine.” Stephen tipped her chin toward him. “These are your closest friends, you don’t need to be embarrassed.” He chuckled. “Besides, I want witnesses.”
The Bride Found (Civil War Brides Book 2) Page 29
