It is still quite fascinating to me that this has even happened. Not just that she has traveled through time, but that I was the one to find her, and she has changed my life because of it. There may even be the possibility of my having a second chance at life. This could mean anything from traveling to the future with her, to living with her there …or here. At the moment, there are too many variables; possibilities; even disasters before we can think of much beyond Parkville.
Bri glanced across the table as they ate luncheon. Jake looked a little better after sleeping longer, especially given his state last evening. Admittedly not every man could be in the vicinity of a baby being born, but he was a doctor after all. She took another sip of coffee, smiling behind the cup. It hadn’t been the doctoring part of the adventure that had gotten to him.
“Do we have a plan?” He lifted still blurry eyes to hers.
“What?” she questioned loudly, just to gage his reaction.
As predicted, he winced.
She laughed.
“Just what do you find so funny?” He scowled. His voice was a scratchy whisper, as though he had drank too much saltwater; or whiskey as she knew the case to be.
Since she understood his reasons now, she could feel sorry for him.
“I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t badger you. You did offer some help last night.”
“We’ll not speak of last night, in any of its sundry forms.”
Sundry, she supposed, could mean the baby, the drinking, or the fact he spilled his guts to her. It didn’t matter in the long run.
“Okay. A plan, you asked?” She pursed her mouth and looked around the room.
“You don’t have a plan.” It was a statement, not a question.
She sighed. “Well, since I didn’t exactly plan on coming here, it’s hard to figure out a plan for getting back. I only know the date and location of the original incident. If I can be there at the appointed time, perhaps it will just…” she shrugged, “…happen.”
“We’re getting close. We’ll just have to stay onboard for the next couple of days.” He stopped, in thought. “There’s no surety that the steamer will stay on time, or that something else won’t interfere in the next few days, but we can only assume history will remain intact.”
“You know what they say about assume,” Bri muttered under her breath. Before he could ask her to explain, and she knew he was about to, she latched onto another word he had repeatedly used. “Exactly what do you mean by all the we words?”
He cleared his throat and she narrowed her gaze. Had she missed some clue; some hint as to his feelings. She had somehow been thrust into his life; a burden he had neither wanted nor graciously accepted. He had constantly struggled against getting involved – with her; with the people on board. Yet once they had made love, his attitude had gentled, and since that night, she no longer thought of herself as alone, as not belonging here. In fact, if they missed the Parkville portal, she had begun to think she could handle living in this century, if he was there with her. And of course, that was the big if; the gigantic if. Everything hinged on his continuing to be her partner in this adventure. And then she recalled what he had said when he first found her journal.
“Jake.” She shook her head. “I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen. Not only whether I can get back, but certainly not whether you can go with me. According to the manifest, there were no lives lost. How would your disappearance be explained in the future?”
“It is easy enough to disappear out here in the west. While many of the staff, and certainly Captain Terrill, know me, they also know I tend to come and go as it pleases me. In the panic of the steamer going down, I doubt anyone will be able to remember if I was here or not. Was my name on the manifest?”
Her eyes widened. “God, I don’t know. I never saw the document, or heard anyone talk about individual passengers, except for those whose items they could identify. All the newspaper reports from the time named some passengers, like Able D. Kirk and his wife, newlyweds on their way to Nebraska, and there were statements from the Captain and people who helped in Parkville.”
“There, that’s one less worry. It won’t harm anyone, and the Captain would in all probability not report me missing as it would ruin his reputation at the thought of a passenger on his steamer drowning.”
Bri’s heart gave a flutter at the thought that Jake might travel through time with her. How? That seemed a ridiculous question since she didn’t understand that about herself. Was it a leap of faith? Could she wish herself and him to the same place when the moment came?
Her heart pounded at the idea that they might not make it, or that she might return to her time and he would stay here. After all, that was one way in which history wouldn’t be disturbed. The more she thought, the more confused she became.
She scooted back her chair and rose. Her chest hurt and she was finding it difficult to breathe. “Let’s not think about it right now. It’s daylight, and the Arabia is moving upstream. We can’t get off and go into town, but we can at least take a walk outside for a little air.”
Bri grabbed a shawl and Jake donned his coat. She gave a soft sigh as they began their walk around the promenade deck. The day was clear, the air just the slightest bit crisp. She wondered if fall would come early this year and then frowned at the thought she wouldn’t be here to watch the leaves change or to see the crops harvested. It was February in her time; not early September.
Jake interrupted her thoughts. “You have explained quite a bit of the history between my time and yours. Things that have been invented, progress that has occurred from this date to your present in the 1980’s. But you’ve neglected any of the disasters, and surely there have been some. Struggles such as I’ve been hearing and reading about concerning the northern and southern states over slavery. Even though we are considered well into the western territory, there are still places where people are taking sides.”
“At the time we discussed all this, you were dealing with the improbable fact I was from the future. I couldn’t see adding all the various wars to the mix.”
“There will be a war?” he questioned thoughtfully as he stopped. He leaned his forearms on the rail; she kept her hand tucked through his elbow.
Together they stood quietly and looked out over the slowly moving water of the wide Missouri. On the opposite bank, some trees were just beginning to show a bit of color, even though September had just begun. A few deer were at river’s edge, drinking their fill. The morning sky was clear; puffs of white clouds breaking up the brilliant blue. Bri thought it too peaceful to be disrupted by war and yet she knew it would be. Not today or tomorrow. Not even before she left here. But it would come, and suddenly she hoped that Jake could follow her to the future so that he would not be caught in the struggles.
“Yes,” she answered his question, “but not for some years yet. Until 1861, there will be scrimmages; small then larger outbreaks of violence.”
“Why would we engage in a war against ourselves after fighting so hard to gain our freedom from England?”
“That was a long time ago, I guess, and people forget the terrible atrocities that were done then. And really, when you think about it, the arguments today are for some of the very reasons we fought the war for independence.”
Jake shook his head. “We weren’t slaves to the English, although they did pretty much tell us what to do. From what I understand, slavery is the issue now.”
“In 1776, colonists wanted the right to choose—their own means of commerce; their own government. They wanted their own lives.” She sighed, thinking of the thousands who had given their lives for the freedoms she enjoyed. “Today, it’s the same. Though slavery is an issue, it’s really about the right for people in the south to choose their own lifestyle.”
“And will the south succeed in that?” He turned his head to look at her and she knew he would read the truth in her eyes, whether she said it out loud or not.
“No.” It was as si
mple as that.
“But why are the people out here involved? I believe Missouri is a state in the union, but the Kansas territory?”
“Missouri advocates slavery, whereas Kansas will come into the union as a free state in 1861. It seems everyone has to choose sides and in doing so, cause their neighbors to resent it. For example, people named a hotel in Lawrence the Free State Hotel and bushwhackers burned it to the ground in March. There will be other scrimmages—border wars—between Missouri and Kansas.”
He looked thoughtful. “Earlier this spring, I recall something about guns being smuggled aboard the Arabia.”
Bri gave a sigh, figuring there wasn’t much sense in not talking about the troubles of the time. At least it gave her something to think about besides her own situation.
“Just this past March, an organization called the New England Aid Society tried to smuggle guns to free-state supporters. In Saint Louis they boarded with one hundred rifles in boxes marked as carpenter tools for Lawrence. They managed to get as far as Lexington, Missouri, before pro-slavery ‘border ruffians’ discovered the plot and boarded the Arabia to confiscate the weapons.”
“How do you know all this? You weren’t here at that time.”
She shrugged. “I researched and studied when I was accepted for the excavation of the Arabia. I had studied archeology and planned to make that my life’s work. They probably call it the study of antiquities at this point in time. But in the process of my graduate studies, I became just as tuned into anthropology, which is close, but still a deviation.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
She searched for an explanation between the two. “I’m just as interested in the what of a person as I am in the who and when.”
“That certainly clears things up.” Jake cocked a brow.
“For example, I know my grandfather’s name, and when he lived; even where he was born and died. What I’m interested in just as much is what he did—for a living, a pastime, a hobby. Things about the culture of his time. To me, it’s not just that the Arabia sank and more than one hundred thirty years later people will be digging up artifacts. I want to know who the passengers were; where they were going and why.”
“So you interact with the passengers on the steamer, hoping that when you later dig up their belongings, you will know their history.”
“That’s about it. Although if I return to the present time, I’m not exactly sure how to go about recording that individual history as no one else will know it.”
He pushed away from the railing, “We’ll discover a way.”
Again, she zeroed in on his use of the plural. “Jake, there may not be a way…”
He turned, pulling her into his arms. “Sh.” He leaned down, brushing her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. “Perhaps we’ll find a way,” he qualified. “And perhaps there is something we can do now to take our minds off our problems.”
Bri wrapped her arms around him, wanting to hold on to the happiness she had found in his embrace. “Perhaps.” Even as she spoke the word, she really had no idea of what her future; their future; could be. To assuage the panic she could feel in her chest; to keep her from thinking of what was to come, she took his hand and walked with him back to the cabin.
Jake knew they were just marking time. Why was it when sorrow or worry were present, time dug in its heels and dragged only slowly along? He thought, given a choice, he’d rather have it over quickly. As that was not the case, what better way to spend his day than making love to Brianna. He locked the door behind him and pulled her back into his embrace. He wanted to move slowly, to take his time, if not to prolong the exquisite rapture he found in her arms, then to at least keep her from thinking about the next few days.
The whole situation sat like a boulder on his chest. He was where he belonged, even if he no longer wanted to be here. But it wasn’t a matter of time or place, but rather of whom he wanted to be with. Regardless of what happened at Parkville, he would survive as Brianna kept assuring him there were no lives lost. So that was fine…for him. But he no longer could think only of himself. She had opened his eyes, and his heart, and he found it impossible to consider life without her.
She took his hand and led him to the bed. She pushed him down on the edge of it, and as he watched, she removed her articles of clothing, one by one. When she was down to her chemise, she stepped between his legs. He reached up a hand to gently follow the curve of her breast, the hollow of her stomach.
“Touch me; love me.” Her whispered plea was his undoing. His hands shook as he slid thumbs under the straps of her simple cotton gown and slid them down her arms. The swell of her breasts appeared and he stopped for a moment, leaning closer to kiss the rise of creamy flesh. Then, with his mouth still on her, he slid the chemise the rest of the way down. Her nipples peaked and he sucked one into his mouth.
His seduction had her clutching his hair, hugging him closer. He didn’t disappoint her but rather took her other breast, squeezing, molding it to fit his palm until she groaned.
“More; more.”
He could feel her shaking and thought to take her down to the bed, but she stepped over one leg then the other and straddled him. He switched his attention to her other breast and she rocked, rubbing her private parts against his crotch until he thought he would explode. And still, she kept him locked in her embrace until he felt she was the aggressor; he the passive recipient of her passion.
Well, not exactly passive, he thought, sucking; tonguing the hard nub; biting down gently with his teeth.
“Please, I can’t stand it. Do something.” Her command was followed by her hands tugging his jacket off, pulling his shirt up and off so her hot hands could touch his chest.
There was no more talk; no more aggressor or mild recipient. Wildly, he rolled back, taking her with him to sprawl on the bed. As she scooted upward, toward the pillows, he unbuckled and unbuttoned and was quickly naked. When she opened for him, she was as greedy as he, reaching out to caress him, to steer him to her most secret part. He did not hesitate as he rammed into her, the heat and the wetness so intense his brain momentarily blanked; dazed at the magnitude of what they had; what she offered. Then she lifted her hips to him and he was beyond thinking.
Chapter 14
We’re only half a day from Parkville. I’ve written down what I remember from my research; what happened that day. I can’t guarantee it will happen the same way. I can only hope.
September 5 – we will stop at Wayne City Landing near Independence.
By four in the afternoon we will arrive at the Town of Kansas (known now as Kansas City).
We will leave there at six o’clock in the evening and dinner will begin to be served by seven.
And then chaos breaks out when the Arabia reaches Quindoro Bend near Parkville.
I can’t help but sigh as I re-read my notes. Is there more and I just can’t remember? Does it really matter? I don’t know why I came back in time at the point I did. I didn’t arrive at the date the Arabia sank or even when it was commissioned but rather somewhere along its last journey from Saint Louis. There is no reason that I can see. The facts are that I was helping on the excavation and I am on board for her last trip up the river. I just have to leave it at that.
Maybe of more importance is Jake. He has become the other half of me. Serious, reflective, at times somber, but he can still light up the room with his smile and make me laugh at his dry sense of humor. And when he touches me; kisses me, I know I have a reason for being. I love him more than life. If there were any way to know for sure it would happen, I would just play the passenger, climb into a lifeboat at the proper time, and get hauled up on dry land at Parkville. Then we could continue the way we have begun—loving, laughing, and living from day to day without a worry. But since I don’t know how I came to be here, I cannot possibly predict whether or not I can stay. And yet, how can I leave him?
Bri glanced down to see wet splotches on the carefully written pages. Touching a f
inger to her cheek, she realized they were her tears and knew there would be plenty more before all was said and done. She carefully closed the journal and wrapped it in an oilcloth. There were no zip lock baggies to seal it in and she couldn’t think of a place to hide it so that she would be the one to find it again, if she—and the journal—made it back where she belonged. Instead, she tucked it into one of the outside pockets in the long coat Jake was fond of wearing. If she left—if he didn’t come with her—at least he might have some remembrance of their time together.
Now, for the plan. She laughed ruefully to herself. Her Plan, as she called it, consisted of nothing more than being at Parkville on the Arabia today—the day it had sunk. And she really didn’t even have control over that. There could still be delays, unanticipated stops; who knew what. She could only hope the boat followed the original course through history and that meant she dared not venture far, although she knew she needed to be out of the stateroom.
She scanned the room as she donned the clothes she had been wearing when she was hauled aboard the steamer. She could leave nothing of herself behind; no link to the future or to what had happened over the past two weeks or so that she had been on board. Except for the journal, she thought as she buttoned up a flannel shirt over the thermals she had been wearing. The journal had been purchased here so was part of this time. And it would be in Jake’s safekeeping.
She wondered where he was. He had assured her he would be with her. Although he had changed dramatically since discovering her secret, she didn’t know if he understood the entirety of it all. She wished there was more she could have done for him; more she could have given him in their time together.
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