Finding Your Heart (A Town Lost in Time Book 1)

by Bess McBride

  “I know,” she fumed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

  They reached the boardwalk on the opposite side of the street, and Jeremiah led her toward a two-story wooden office building.

  “Dr. Cook!” a voice called from behind them.

  They paused and turned around to see Sophia running across the streets, one hand clutching her skirts, the other pressed against her chest.

  “Wait, please,” she exclaimed as she reached their side of the road. She hurried up to them, glancing quickly over her shoulder toward the post office.

  “I am so sorry about Jacob,” she said, directing her comments to Leigh. “I disagreed with him and told him so. That was not his place. The truth is that Jacob’s father, Hans, was widowed when Jacob was only three. Hans wanted to marry Mary Anne Moore—or Johnson—but she never agreed to divorce Harry. Hans blamed Harry, but it was truly Mary Anne’s decision to stay married. She did give up her married name though when they moved to Orting, though she let Nancy keep the name of Johnson.”

  Jeremiah looked at Leigh, who seemed a little stunned by the information Sophia had just shared.

  “Will you tell us where they live?” Jeremiah asked.

  “Yes, of course, and I told Jacob I would say so. This is your family, not ours to meddle in. We live just up the road to the north in a small farmhouse on the left. Jacob’s brothers tend to the farm while we work in the post office. Nancy lives on the farm just north of us. Our properties are very close. Rosanna and her husband, William Ferguson, live with her. They lease out the land to us, as William works as a carpenter.”

  “Just up the road? How far would you say?”

  “About four miles. Our house is large and white. Nancy’s house is smaller and more of a tan color. You can’t miss it. On the left hand side, set back from the road a bit.”

  “Thank you, Sophia!” Leigh finally said, taking the older woman’s hands in hers. “Thank you!”

  Sophia’s tight lips loosened into a slight smile. “You are welcome. I wish you the best with your cousins. Hopefully, they are ready to reconcile. Perhaps you will be the tie that brings them all together. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

  “It would,” Leigh said with a bright smile.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jeremiah saw Jefferson emerging from the office building. He spotted Jeremiah and headed in their direction.

  “I must return to the post office,” Sophia said. “Goodbye! I hope to see you again.”

  “You too, Sophia!” Leigh called out as Sophia hurried back across the street.

  Jeremiah had no time to thank Sophia before she vanished, and Jefferson arrived at their side. Leigh whirled around to greet him.

  “We got the information! Nancy and Rosanna live up the road about four miles!” She turned to Jeremiah. “Can we go directly there? Eat lunch later? It’s still early!”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “I discovered the very same information,” Jefferson said enthusiastically. “Samuel knows the family and knew where they lived. He handled Mary Anne Johnson’s estate, though it seems that she went by her maiden name.”

  “We heard that,” Leigh said. “We’re going up there now. Fingers crossed that they agree to speak to us, much less go down to Kaskade to visit with Harry.”

  “I would like to accompany you, if possible,” Jefferson said. “My business was concluded quite expeditiously, and I am at loose ends until we meet for lunch.”

  “I do not think—” Jeremiah began.

  “Sure!” Leigh said. “Maybe we could use a good attorney. A doctor, a lawyer, and a great-granddaughter walk into a bar.” Leigh laughed. “Let’s go!”

  She seemed happy to the point of giddiness, and Jeremiah watched her in amusement and apprehension. He feared that her happiness might soon turn to sorrow should her great-grandmothers reject Harry, and by extension, her as Harry’s representative. He had no doubt they would love her had they known that she was their great-granddaughter, but they could not know that information.

  He was not happy to see Jefferson heading off to gather up his horse, but he had no reasonable objection, certainly not if Leigh desired Jefferson’s presence.

  Jeremiah escorted Leigh across the street and helped her into the buggy before picking up the reins and maneuvering the buggy back onto the street. Traffic had thickened, and he concentrated on wending his way through wagons, pedestrians and solitary riders to move north. Jefferson rode up alongside them, positioning himself near Leigh.

  Traffic thinned out as they left Orting proper and meandered up the road through fields of hops and bulb farms.

  “You must come up here next spring when the bulbs are in bloom,” Jeremiah said. “Tulips and daffodils abound. It is a wondrous sight.”

  “Really?” Leigh asked, scanning the quiet fields on either side of the road. “That must be beautiful!”

  “It is,” Jeremiah responded. He had almost refrained from saying anything about the bulb farms, but remembered that Leigh would still be in his time during the following spring. She could not return to the twenty-first century until summer solstice in June. To his surprise, he was pleased at the notion.

  “I’m nervous,” she said in a low voice, as if she didn’t wish Jefferson to hear. “I’m nervous about meeting them. I’m afraid they’ll reject me, and that can never be undone. My great-grandmothers would have rejected me.”

  Jeremiah reached over to pat her hands, clasped in her lap.

  “Do not imagine the worst, Leigh,” he said gently. “Hope for the best, and be prepared for disappointment, but do not imagine what has not happened. It may never happen, yet your mind will believe that it has, for you spent time imaging this rejection, mourning it. Your great-grandmothers may embrace you. Do you intend to pass along this story of being a cousin? Would they believe you?”

  “I don’t know. I doubt it. I’d have to remember who Mary Anne Moore was related to, or more likely who Harry was related to—if he had brothers or sisters. I’m sure he did, but I can’t remember any names.”

  “Perhaps you could make an obscure reference?”

  “I could try. Or we could just use your doctor-ness and say that you think Harry needs to see them...for his well-being and all. Which is the truth, right?”

  “What scheme are you two hatching over there?” Jefferson asked.

  “We’re trying to figure out what to say once we reach Nancy’s house, whether I should say I’m a cousin—which is what I accidentally blurted out at the post office—or whether Dr. Cook here should just say that Harry’s health would be improved if his family would come see him.”

  Jefferson nodded. “So you are a cousin now?”

  Leigh related what happened in the post office.

  “I had no idea Harry had such a history. Nor did I realize what an attractive descendant he would produce.”

  Jeremiah pursed his lips at the outlandish compliment. But then again, Jefferson had always had an easy way with words that Jeremiah did not. Tanya had once said that Jeremiah was a very serious man. At the time, he had taken it as a compliment, but on hindsight had determined that she meant it as some sort of constructive criticism.

  “Oh, Jefferson!” Leigh laughed. “That’s a bit much, but thank you!”

  Jeremiah knew a moment of satisfaction. Yes, it had been a bit much, and he was pleased that Leigh had recognized the effusiveness of the compliment.

  Jefferson, in his good-natured way, took no offense but laughed. The more lighthearted of the Lundrum siblings, he’d had no difficulties in attracting the fairer sex. Martha, on the other hand, was as “serious” as Jeremiah. Tanya had commented upon that as well.

  It had been both the Lundrums’ and his father’s hope that Martha and Jeremiah should choose each other as mates, but that had not happened. Martha was a dear, sweet woman, and as beautiful as the first snow in winter, but Jeremiah thought of her only with profound respect and affection. She did not elicit in him the racing heart t
hat Leigh did or the jealousy that Jefferson instigated.

  Jeremiah drew in a sharp breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Leigh asked. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, nothing,” he responded, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “Okay,” she said and turned to respond to something Jefferson had said, no doubt another extravagant compliment.

  Jeremiah would have been a fool not to recognize that he was fascinated by women of the twenty-first century. Katherine had intrigued him, as did her fairly scandalous former profession, so divergent from her elegant bearing. Tanya had stolen his heart but returned it as a dated historical artifact. Leigh had— He stole a look at her out of the corner of his eye—chatting easily with Jefferson.

  Leigh had hypnotized him, bewitched him, if one believed in such things. He wanted nothing more than to please her and to care for her. He dreaded the day she would return to the future, but she had left him in no doubt that she would.

  She had overcome much in her life, had in fact soldiered on through her distrust and fear of medicine to care for her great-grandfather. Adversity had given her great strength that she appeared not to recognize. He admired that about her. Her outspokenness delighted him. Her colorful vocabulary shocked him in the most amusing way. Her beautiful dark-copper hair and white-speckled blue eyes entranced him, and he thought he could stare at her forever.

  Was she attracted to Jefferson? Enough to stay? Jefferson looked very pleased with himself. Jeremiah wondered if Leigh’s husband, Sam, had been fair haired like Jefferson.

  The large white farmhouse came into view, and beyond, Jeremiah saw the smaller tan house belonging to Nancy Reid and her family.

  “There is the house,” Jeremiah pointed out.

  “Oh!” Leigh exclaimed. “So soon?”

  “I thought you were in a hurry to get here,” Jeremiah said.

  “I was, but now we’re here, and I’m not.”

  Jeremiah could not help but smile at the perversity of the statement. Yet he understood her elation and apprehension.

  They reached the turnoff leading to the tan house, and Jeremiah turned the buggy into the lane. Jefferson followed, and they soon came to a stop in front of the house.

  A woman with faded copper-colored hair came out onto the porch, shading her eyes with her hands. Jeremiah looked from her to Leigh. The hair was the same.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Leigh’s pulse pounded so loudly in her ears that she almost didn’t hear Jeremiah’s words.

  “The resemblance is remarkable,” he murmured. “There is no doubt that you are related.”

  “Does she look like me?” Leigh whispered.

  “You in about twenty-five years. Apparently, you will age well. This woman has.”

  Jeremiah waved a hand in greeting. “Good morning, madam,” he called out. “Are you Mrs. Nancy Reid?”

  “I am,” she said. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Jeremiah Cook. This is Mrs. Leigh Peters, and our friend Mr. Jefferson Lundrum. We wondered if we could have a word with you?”

  Leigh’s great-grandmother didn’t exactly welcome them with open arms.

  “If you’re asking about the place, I’m still not selling. We’re doing fine here.”

  “No, no,” Jeremiah said. “May I climb down? It is an entirely different matter. I do not blame you for not selling. What a lovely house!”

  “Yes, you can get down from the buggy,” she said.

  Leigh stared hard, wondering if there was a resemblance. So busy was she gaping at Nancy that she didn’t see Jefferson had dismounted and waited to help her down. Jeremiah had come around the front of the horse’s head to do the same but turned away when he saw Jefferson.

  “The resemblance is startling,” Jefferson whispered.

  “Really?” she asked. She stepped forward and followed Jeremiah to the large wraparound porch. The house was in decent shape, and she remembered seeing it still standing in the twenty-first century, though abandoned and covered by moss and vines. It stood alone in a field of some sort of crop. She had never paid attention. The larger white farmhouse to the left belonging to the Henker family stood as well, also abandoned to Washington’s fertile overgrowth.

  “What can I do for you?” Nancy asked in a fairly brusque manner.

  Leigh swallowed hard. Her image of a sweet, nurturing grandmother was fading fast.

  “The matter is delicate, and it would be best if we could sit and talk with you, perhaps in those chairs on your porch?”

  “Not until you tell me what you’re here about,” she said. She smiled as if to soften her words, but she seemed not at all intimidated by them.

  Jeremiah looked at Leigh, who hunched her shoulders. He started to speak, when Nancy interrupted him.

  “You look familiar, Mrs. Peters. Have we met before?”

  Leigh’s heart fluttered. Nancy had dropped the hand shading her eyes, and Leigh saw her own blue-and-white eyes mirrored on her great-grandmother’s face.

  “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “I think we might be related though. I asked Dr. Cook and Mr. Lundrum to come with me to talk to you.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Nancy exclaimed, her smile widening. “I should have recognized that head of hair. Looks just like mine did when I was younger and like my daughter’s hair does now.”

  Leigh could have died with happiness at that moment. “I have my mother’s hair,” she said.

  Nancy moved down a step to take Leigh’s hand and pull her onto the porch.

  “Well, who is your mother, dear? I’m sure I know her...or of her. I know all my cousins!”

  Leigh thought quickly. She really didn’t think she could lie her way out of the situation, and she didn’t want to. But she couldn’t tell the truth either.

  “Harriet Day,” she said.

  “Come sit down on the porch, gents!” Nancy said, settling Leigh into a weathered wicker love seat. She took the seat next to her, and the men sat down in single chairs.

  “Harriet Day,” Nancy pronounced with a squint. “That name doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “My mother came from Iowa.” Leigh vaguely remembered her mother mentioning family stopping in Iowa on their westward trek. She hoped she’d thrown Nancy off the scent.

  “Oh, Iowa!” Nancy said with a nod. “Yes, we do have some leftovers in Iowa who didn’t move out here. Well, I’ll be darned. So you’re a Johnson! Well, of course you are. Your hair! That widow’s peak. And you’ve got the Johnson robin’s-egg eyes!”

  Leigh put a hand to the outer corner of one eye.

  “Is that what they’re called?” A tear threatened to slip out of one of those eyes. Nancy wasn’t anything like her sweet mother in temperament, but she certainly looked like her. Leigh struggled to keep herself from sobbing and hugging the older woman, reminding herself that the gesture might seem a bit grabby for a newly found cousin relationship.

  “That’s what the Johnsons have called them for as long as I’ve been around. They’re special. That’s how I knew you were one of us.”

  Nancy patted the hand that Leigh had resting on her lap. “So what are you doing here in Orting? Are you visiting?”

  Leigh threw Jeremiah a glance. “Well, I recently moved down to Kaskade. I’m working for Dr. Cook down there.”

  Nancy looked at Jeremiah, then at Jefferson. Her wonderful eyes narrowed. “Kaskade, huh?”

  Leigh could see that Nancy had already come to some sort of conclusion, and Leigh wanted to prevent what she thought might be a hasty denial.

  “I was looking forward to meeting your daughter, Rosanna, and her husband, William. Are they here?”

  “They are,” Nancy replied. “They were just upstairs tending to the baby, Jane.”

  “A baby!” Leigh exclaimed. “Jane! Just think! She’ll be a great-grandmother one day!”

  Jeremiah coughed, and Leigh realized what she’d said. Nancy drew her brows together, though she smiled.

  �
�Well, I guess that’s probably true. I can’t say we’ve actually thought about that yet.”

  “Silly of me to say.”

  “I’ll go get them in a minute because I know they’ll want to meet you, but I think you’d better tell me what you’re really doing here. I know my father lives in Kaskade. Is he dead?”

  Leigh gasped and looked to Jeremiah for help. Jefferson crossed and recrossed his legs, as if uncomfortable.

  “Why else would you come with a doctor and a lawyer?”

  “That is entirely a coincidence, Mrs. Reid,” Jefferson said. “I am only here as a friend to Leigh.”

  “Harry is alive,” Jeremiah finally said, “but he is very ill. He is suffering from a severe bout of pneumonia, and I do not know if he will recover. He has had pneumonia before, but this episode has brought him low.”

  “Is he in the hospital in Tacoma?” Nancy asked. Her expression was guarded, but Leigh swore her eyes watered.

  Jeremiah shook his head.

  “No, he will not consent to go to a hospital. He is staying at my house.”

  “Stubborn old man,” Nancy groused. “Well, I’m glad he’s staying with you.”

  “He asked us to find you and your daughter and ask you to come see him.”

  Nancy was already shaking her head.

  Leigh spoke up. “Please, Nancy. Give it some thought. I’ve heard a lot of history, a lot of sadness, regret, mistakes. Please think about it before you say no.”

  Nancy patted Leigh’s hand again.

  “You sound like you know more than you want to know,” she said. “Look, my father made my mom’s life so miserable that she left the only man she ever loved, would ever love, took her kid and moved away without any help from him. She took in washing, cooked in the diner, planted bulbs and did every other job she could find until she could finally afford this house. She died loving that man, but he loved the drink more than he loved her...or me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Leigh said, curling her fingers around Nancy’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I can’t change the past. I wish I could.”

  “No, we can’t. Harry doesn’t deserve a visit from me or my daughter.”

  Jeremiah sighed. “As it happens, Rosanna will not be able to visit him.”