Ruby pulled out more pictures, laying them neatly across the table. She was unaware of how fast Cordie’s mind was working in order to figure out what happened to the man she loved. She rummaged through the photos, stopping briefly on anything with Jon and Carter both present and looked at the trusting smile of her love, and the hateful expression Carter always wore.
“It seems my family is cursed with unhappy members. My poor grandson moved away some time ago after that wretched woman he called a wife abandoned him and his newborn daughter. It seems ages since he came last to visit, but now that his daughter is older, I firmly expect to see her in a few weeks. You might like my great-granddaughter. She is spirited like you.” Ruby continued to rummage until she found something of interest.
“Well, forevermore!” Ruby said. “Take a look at this.”
She handed Cordie a worn, leather journal. She opened it to the page Ruby’s finger held. This belonged to my father - Carter’s son.
I heard my father cursing God tonight. I know he has been through much with the war. I try to be understanding, but it is not easy. He had taken a bottle of the wine and ranted through the yard about ghosts and how he would not tolerate the abuse. I think he is losing his mind. Then, he screamed, “I did not want to kill you. I had to kill you. If I ever wanted a life for myself, I had to do it…”
“Mrs. Ruby, I want to thank you for your time. I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for, but I have gotten a great sense of what the family was like, and I very much appreciate your time.”
Ruby rose gracefully from the couch. “Are you sure I can’t do anything else to help you?”
“I think I have everything I need,” she replied. “Again, thank you so much for letting me come by.”
Ruby nodded and showed her guest to the door.
“Have a nice day, Mrs. Ruby,” Cordie said and smiled.
Ruby replied, “You too, Cordie. And you just let me know if I can help you with anything else. I don’t get much company, so it’s no trouble at all.”
“Thank you,” Cordie replied graciously.
She held the small pile of notes close to her cheeks as she walked to the old Ford. Insight, it was something she had not had before this moment, and while others would think it a smile of triumph, to Cordelia it was like winning the war…literally. There was a chance Carter would be turned. Now she only had to figure how.
Chapter Sixteen
Down by the Riverside
Cordie sat, parked along a small branch of the river that ran not far from her home, wondering what to do next. She had to get to Jon; she had to find out how Carter killed him. Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of brother perishing against brother. In all her years, she would have done anything, anything at all to have a sibling.
There just has to be a way.
Cordie stared at the river as her mind wandered. She wondered what it would have been like to travel the river on a paddleboat, a big steamer, like the one she had seen pictures of at the Museum of Modern History.
Her plans to go through Schelling House, room by room, had been squashed by having to help her uncle. She listened to the sounds of the barges as they moved down river, blowing their horns before realizing Jon’s home was where she needed to be. Cordie had a newfound determination. She ran to the truck, leapt into the front seat, and turned the key.
“Don’t worry, Jon,” she whispered. “I will find something that will take me to the time I need to see.”
Cordie drove home quickly. She had to put on the dress and see Jon. He had to tell her what had happened to him. She wouldn’t allow anything less than the truth.
She pulled into the circle drive and noticed that Aunt Sadie and Uncle Jesse were gone. Perfect.
Schelling House looked lost and so alone in the center of the field as Cordie ran toward it. She paused when reaching the porch to look for the key. Her fingers slid along the edge of the door frame until Cordie felt the key. Quickly, Cordie looked over her shoulder. She felt like a cat burglar in some old black and white film. The old skeleton key slipped into the lock, turning effortless as though it was glad to see an old friend.
I don’t have much time. There has to be something here that can take me the time before Carter shot Jon.
The inside of the house was exactly as it had been the day the Schelling family abandoned it. Cordie wondered if Ruby’s father had left the home, moving to the other side of town, in an attempt to distance himself from the tragedy that filled his life growing up. Cordie could not imagine what it would be like to grow up in home with so much hate.
“Wow, this is what over a hundred years of cobwebs looks like,” Cordie whispered as she stepped from the foyer into the sitting room. It was the same as it had been when Cordie stepped through time to be with Jon. She walked to the fireplace mantle, pausing to look at the old sepia photographs lining it.
There were pictures of Miss Mable, two young women, Mr. Schelling, and Carter. By the time Cordie reached the far side of the mantle, she had seen the entire Schelling lineage, from the Civil War to a picture of Ruby when she was small, but nowhere in the midst of the many photographs was there a picture of Jon.
She walked slowly to the next room, a formal dining room with a long, solid oak table. The sheer length of the table, complete with fourteen chairs, was larger than any dining table Cordie had seen. Images of grand parties, women in colorful dresses, men in fine suits, and food trailing the length of the oak table filled Cordie’s mind. She could nearly see Jon as a young boy, running around the table as his father looked at him crossly while Mable smiled.
The other rooms of the downstairs offered nothing that was substantial, certainly nothing that pertained to Jon. Cordie turned toward the stairs, praying some article belonging to him remained. She placed her hand on the railing, gathering her strength, and slowly ascended the stairs.
Two of the rooms she entered obviously belonged to women by their décor. Soft pinks and delicate yellows adorned the rooms with old curtains had faded from years of exposure to the sun. An old porcelain doll sat waiting in the middle of the large, four-poster bed for a little girl who was never coming home.
There were eight rooms in all, and not one of them appeared to have belonged to her beloved Jon. One door remained, a small door that was half the size of standard one. Her hand trembled as Cordie reached for the knob.
“This is ridiculous. What is there to be afraid of in an old empty house?” she said aloud.
The door creaked as it opened. What lay behind was a storage room, much the same as a modern day attic. All it contained was a single steamer trunk. Slowly, Cordie stepped inside and knelt before the trunk before lifting the lid. It appeared to be filled with nothing but old clothes until Cordie found the jacket Jon had been wearing the day Carter shot him. She lifted it from the trunk, staring at that hole where the bullet had entered Jon’s side and the black stains she knew was blood. It had weight to it, more weight than seemed normal for just a coat with brass buttons. Cordie rifled through the pockets and found a pocket watch. She wound the watch and popped open the face.
“A father could not be more proud. Congratulations Jon.”
It was heart-wrenching and crushing as Cordie pulled the watch to her chest. Jon had been carrying the watch in his pocket the day Carter murdered him.
Chapter Seventeen
Save Me
Cordie ran to Whispering Oaks with the watch held tightly in her hand. She would get the same dress, and go back, even if it took all night. Somehow it could be hid from Sadie. The most important thing right now was to save Jon before it was too late.
She ran into the house, slamming the door behind her. A note lay on the bureau. “Out with the Treadways. We will probably be late. Do your homework and go to sleep at bedtime.”
That was a far cry from the overly protective Aunt Sadie she knew. It seemed like Uncle Jesse was finally getting her to ease up a bit.
Cordie climbed the steps, skipping every oth
er one, to get into her room. She pulled the dress from her closet and quickly pulled it on with the watch firmly held in her right hand. Firmly she placed her hand against the cool surface of the mirror, gazing past her reflection. “Take me back to him and take me back now.”
Instantly, Cordie fell to the ground.
When she rose, she was hidden in a corner of the Schelling House. It was recognizable from the last time she visited. She heard a ruckus and couldn’t figure out what was going on. With no regard for her own life, she ran outside. She quietly rounded the side of the house to see Carter, standing arrogantly over Jon. “If I rid you from my life, I can actually have this house and take the life that is rightfully mine. I am the one who fought! I deserve a reward.”
Jon’s hands were up in a surrender position above his head a he knelt before his brother. “I cannot begin to explain how sorry I am for what you are feeling. If you would like to keep this house, I see no problem with that. You have earned it,” he reasoned.
“Mother and Father will not see it that way,” Carter raged. “Father will see that you are the one who kept it from being attacked and kept the family safe. Of course, Mother will see her smart son, who should be given every advantage in life. This is the only way,” Carter said, holding the gun to his shoulder as he readied for the kill-shot.
“No, please,” Jon managed to get out before the shot rang out.
Cordie fell to the ground behind a magnolia bush. This cannot be happening. This simply cannot be happening, Cordie thought with her mind racing.
Carter stormed away, dropping the musket at his feet, stepping callously over his brother as Jon began to bleed through his clothes and fell to the ground. Cordie ran to Jon’s side. “I have to find a way to stop this bleeding.”
“There is no way to stop the past,” Jon said. “And what are you doing here? I told you it was not safe for you here.”
As the loss of blood began to take hold of his body, Jon shivered, but was strangely happy, knowing this time, he would not die alone.
Tears ran down Cordie’s face. “You don’t believe we met for a reason? You don’t believe that we somehow have a chance to be happy together?”
“It is… not natural.” Jon gasped for air, the pain setting in more and more as Cordie pressed his jacket against the wound, attempting to stop the bleeding.
“What am I supposed to do, Cordie?” Jon asked. “Let you become trapped in a time not your own? Have you relinquish your young life for me?”
She leaned over and kissed him softly as his breath began to slow.
“I can find a way to help you. I know I can,” Cordie pleaded.
“Okay,” Jon said. “Please, Cordelia, save me.” With his last breath, he mumbled the words ‘I love you’ and his eyes went still, staring off into the distance. Cordie leaned over his body, heaving from her heavy tears and pulling his sweet smell into her nostrils.
After a moment, Cordie stood. There was no need to mourn. She could save him. She just had to figure out how. Cordie ran across the front yard to Whispering Oaks and peeked in the windows. It appeared that everyone was out.
She snuck in the back-door and crept into the secret room where the mirror was hid. In front of the mirror again, she wished to be back in her time. Nothing happened. She closed her eyes and ground her fists while holding Jon’s pocket watch. “TAKE ME HOME!” she bellowed.
Her eyes fluttered wildly, and when she gained control and consciousness, she looked up to see Cricket standing over her.
“What the hell are you doing?” she shouted.
Chapter Eighteen
I’m Not Crazy
Cordie was beyond furious. Her aunt and uncle had returned just as Cricket had helped her out of the dress. They took her temperature and talked quietly to each other in the hallway.
“Why did you call them, Cricket? You had no right,” Cordie scolded.
“I couldn’t wake you up! I didn’t know what to do.” Cricket tried to reason with her.
“You knew what I was doing. I had to see him again. And I need to find a way to save him,” Cordie spat.
“You can be mad at me if you want. I know my aunt believes in all of this stuff, but it scares me. I don’t want you to get hurt. And maybe you aren’t really seeing him. You could have something wrong that you don’t know about. You need to get checked out,” Cricket replied, still trying to maintain a calm, understanding voice.
“Okay, that’s it,” Sadie announced as she came through the bedroom door. “I’ve had enough of this. We are worried and aren’t sure what to do. We have no way to explain these fainting spells or why you wake up in the dress. You need to see a doctor.”
“I’m fine!” Cordie shouted. “I was playing in the dress, and I guess the stress I have been under lately has caused the fainting spells.”
“What stress?!” Aunt Sadie shouted, beginning to lose her temper. “Child, we have done everything for you. We have made sure you have something to drive. We make sure you have clothes to wear and food to eat and…”
“And I’m never trusted further than you can throw me? And since you have so conveniently forgotten, YOU are not my parents. My parents are DEAD!” Cordie shouted back. “I’m old enough to be left alone. I would know if something was wrong with me. You’ve got to back off!”
Sadie looked at Jesse. Cordie watched them silently, knowing that Uncle Jesse may be her only hope for reason in this ridiculous display of overreaction.
“Listen kiddo, we are worried. This is not up for discussion. You are going to see Dr. McWhirt first thing tomorrow,” Jesse said.
Cordie sank into her sheets. She could not believe that Jesse had turned on her too. First Cricket, now him. They had no trust in her whatsoever.
“Fine. I will go, but it’ll be a waste of money and a waste of time you could be spending with your precious Daughters of the South,” she yelled, her gaze never breaking from Sadie.
Sadie sighed heavily.
“Cricket, we thank you for your time and that you CARED enough to call us. Cordie is very lucky to have a friend like you and I’m sure she will come to appreciate such a kind gesture.”
Cricket took the hint and gathered her things quickly. She stopped at the doorway and turned to look at her friend. She knew Cordie was in way too deep, and she didn’t know what to do. Petulia might have a suggestion, but she hated to bring her into it, especially because Cordie had respect for Petulia.
She paused at the bedroom door. “I hope you get to feeling better, Cordie. If you need anything, please give me a call,” she said, a bit upset.
Cordie didn’t look at her. She didn’t want to look at any of them. They didn’t understand. There was no way they could understand. Her entire life may be a lie. She had an overwhelming feeling that she was meant to be with Jon, in a different time. She couldn’t just let that go. She loved her aunt and uncle, but she didn’t know them that well. Her parents were dead and this was the only thing she had to hold onto. She wouldn’t give up. She just couldn’t.
“You get some sleep, sweetie,” Jesse said, pulling the door closed. “We will see you in the morning.”
Cordie didn’t respond. She tossed and turned, angry and upset.
That is, until she heard the haunting melody of the harmonica. It grew closer and closer until she could tell it was right outside of her door. She leapt from her bed and pulled the door open.
“Jon!” she shouted before he could quiet her.
He drew her in close to him. “Thank you for visiting me today, although it wasn’t under the best of circumstances.
“Your brother,” Cordie sighed. “It was him all along.
“Yes. I do not intend to sully his memory, but I have thought about it. He killed me for a chance at a good life. I deserve that chance as well. If you can find a way to help me, without endangering yourself, I will support you, Cordelia,” Jon spoke into her ear.
“I’m going to find a way,” Cordie whispered. “You are the only th
ing I care about in this world, or your world… or whatever. I will find a way to save you.”
“I have never met anyone quite like you, Cordelia.” Jon smiled. “I have no doubt that you will find a way. Then, I can take you for my wife and we can be together.”
Cordie’s heart melted. Jon kissed her tenderly.
“Well, first I have to go to stupid Dr. McWhirt’s in the morning. My aunt and uncle are worried that I have some sort of neurological issue.”
“Oh my,” Jon said.
“What?” Cordie asked.
“Why, if I am not mistaken, Dr. McWhirt is a psychiatrist.”
Cordie’s mouth hung open. “They think I’m crazy?”
“It appears that way,” Jon said and brushed her hair back from her face.
“I’m not crazy.” Cordelia said.
“This I know to be true, but they do not. You must go and not anger them with poor behavior. You will know what to do. Rest now. I will do what I can.”
Jon walked Cordie to her bed, where he sat next to her on the floor, holding her hand right until the moment Sadie entered the room to wake her.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Sadie said.
“Don’t ever say that to me again. That was reserved for my dad. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get dressed.”
Cordie rolled onto her side, turning her back to Sadie until the door was closed.
“That is not being agreeable,” Jon whispered.
“I really don’t care.” Cordie paused, still dressed from the prior evening. “Look, you are physically here to me, can you do me a favor?”
“I shall try my best.”
“There is one other dress in that trunk downstairs. It’s lavender with white lace trim. I know Aunt Sadie is going to take the dress from me and hide it somewhere. I need you to take that one and hide it inside Schelling House. Otherwise, I won’t be able to get back to you.”
“I will do whatever is within my power,” Jon said, leaning forward to kiss Cordelia on the cheek. “Do use care. Do not let them take you away from me.”
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