by Cathy Peper
“We will be wanted for theft, but no one will suspect us of time travel, not even Miss Merrell. After a few days, she will probably begin to doubt her own memory.”
Ari wasn’t convinced, but there was nothing they could do about it. No need to worry about it now. Even if they did manage to return home, they might have to take on new identities. Their crimes were piling up.
Bryce left to explore. Ari slipped the necklace over her head. As they waited for Bryce, she pointed out the different trees and animals to Hannah. The little girl could recognize most of the common trees near their home in Ste. Genevieve as well as squirrels, bunnies, and several types of birds, since Ari regularly identified them on their walks. It had been part of her training as a young girl and she continued it with her daughter even if there were far fewer species of wild animals in small-town twenty-first century America than there had been on the nineteenth-century frontier. She found a hoof print of a deer pressed into the mud and showed it to Hannah.
“Maybe we will see a deer,” Hannah said. It wasn’t that unusual for them to spot deer in the woods at home.
“I am sure we will along with foxes or wolves. Or a bear.”
Hannah laughed. “Mommy, you’ve told me there are no more bears in Missouri.”
She knelt down so she could look directly into her daughter’s eyes. “Do you remember the dizzy feeling you got in the ATV?”
Hannah nodded. “I thought I was going to throw up.”
“We went back in time. I’m not certain what year it is, but I’m guessing 1812. Things are going to be very different. No cars, no lighting, except by candle. I brought my phone, but it won’t work.” She dug her phone out of her pocket and showed it to Hannah. She could turn it on, but there was no signal, no time and date, no Internet access.
Hannah’s big, blue eyes grew even wider. “Why, Mommy? I like to play with your phone.”
“Think of it as a camping trip. You know you’ve been bugging me to take you camping. And it was the only way to see Uncle Sebastien and Aunt Tori.” She watched the struggle on her daughter’s face. At four, she probably couldn’t really understand what her mother was saying, but she was a bright girl and she obviously understood enough to be worried.
Bryce returned before Hannah could ask any more questions. “I’ve found a trail. We should be able to clear enough of a path to get there.” He started the motor, the noise loud in the quiet of the clearing. A handful of birds burst from the trees, startled by the alien roar. Moving slowly, stopping to clear the way of downed logs and brush too thick for the ATV to penetrate, they finally reached the trail. “It should go quicker now.”
The sun peered through the clouds to the west. They were headed towards Reelfoot Lake and the treasure, but she decided not to argue further. Having something valuable to sell might come in handy. Once they dug up the goods, they could go after Sebastien.
Chapter 14
Mississippi River, January 1812
About a week into Olivia and Gordon’s journey upriver, a second major quake struck the region. It hit early in the morning, but they had been up for about an hour and had already finished their coffee and hardtack biscuit, which passed for breakfast on the boat.
Although Olivia enjoyed the scenery she glimpsed from the deck and the few small hamlets they visited, she had already begun to regret her decision to leave New Orleans. Conditions on the boat were worse than she had expected, especially the food. The small captain’s cabin they called their own sported a small bunk and a desk and chair. To her astonishment, Gordon let her have the bunk all to herself and slept on the floor. Olivia’s maid had taken one look at the cramped space allotted to her and quit on the spot. So Olivia not only faced primitive conditions but had to fend for herself for the first time in her life. It was inconvenient, but also strangely refreshing.
She was on deck, cradling a cup of coffee in her gloved hands, more for the warmth than the horrid taste, when the quake hit. At first, she didn’t understand what was happening. The trees on shore began to sway and tilt as if in a storm, but the air was still. A low rumbling sound grew until it roared and the boat pitched and dipped on the sudden swells. Her coffee sloshed over the rim of her cup, the heat of the liquid uncomfortably hot even through her gloves. With a cry, she dropped the cup and watched it shatter on the wooden planks below.
“Earthquake!” one of the men shouted as they pulled their poles out of the whirling river and braced themselves against the boat’s motion.
“Keep her centered,” the captain yelled. “Stay away from the banks.”
Olivia stumbled on the heaving deck and sank to her knees. She wondered why they didn’t attempt to land, but then to her horror, she saw the shore to the left collapse into the river, dragging full-grown trees with it. It seemed to happen slowly. The mass of earth hit the water, creating a swell that swamped the boat. The water poured over her head, soaking her and dragging her across the deck. Frantically, she tried to grab onto something for if she was swept overboard she would surely drown. She hadn’t swum since she was a child and paddling around in the creek on a hot summer day hadn’t prepared her for facing the mighty Mississippi during a devastating earthquake.
She screamed for help, but her cries were muffled as she choked on muddy brown water. Besides, who would save her? Gordon? She wasn’t even sure where he was and everyone was intent on saving their own lives. The rough men who had leered at her when her husband wasn’t around wouldn’t risk themselves to help her.
She hit the cabin and grabbed for it, grappling for purchase. It wasn’t easy to hold on to, but she managed, clinging with aching fingers until the boat dropped with a thud, shaking her loose. She lay on the deck, shivering and gasping until the worst was over. The boat still bobbed like a cork in the heaving waters, but the great wave that had nearly dragged her to its depths had passed. She stood, shaking as the cold winter air hit her sodden form. Trees trembled on the shores, but she could no longer hear the roaring sound and a stench of sulfur filled the air.
“Men overboard!”
Olivia shuddered as she realized how close she had come to becoming one of the victims.
“Captain, what should we do?”
“Leave them,” he said tersely, “They are probably already dead and I don’t want to risk anyone else.”
Olivia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Captain Hobbs, you must at least make an effort to find those men,” she said.
The first mate strode the length of the boat and whispered something in the captain’s ear. Hobbs glanced over at Olivia, his expression grim. “Looks like your husband is one of the missing. Bring her about, men, we’re going survivor hunting.”
Olivia’s heart, already racing, slowed for a second before resuming its frantic pace. Gordon could be dead. She might be a widow. A very wealthy widow, free to do as she pleased for the first time in her life. Something flickered deep inside. Was it hope? Olivia could not be certain. She had buried childish dreams on her wedding day.
Cold to the marrow of her bones and knowing she should change into dry clothes, Olivia remained on deck as the boat reversed direction and headed downriver. It moved swiftly with the current but was hindered by trees which had fallen into the water and others which had become uprooted from the murky bottom. She watched with dry eyes as they found someone and pulled the man on board. She saw immediately that he was one of the crew, followed quickly by the realization that he was dead. The men returned to their task, quieter now than she had ever heard them.
They drifted further, finding no one. Hobbs would soon call a halt to the mission. She shivered, staring into the unforgiving water. The sulfurous smell continued and the day seemed to have grown darker. It seemed as if an eternity had passed. Surely no one could have survived this long.
“Over here,” came a cry.
Olivia turned to look and saw a black-clad arm waving near the shore. Gordon often wore black.
“Take her in. Careful now.”
The men maneuvered the boat towards the shore, getting as close as they could before thrusting a pole at the man. He was wet, shivering, his complexion as white as the clouds overhead, but Olivia recognized her husband. His frozen hands could barely hold onto the pole as they pulled him near enough to grab, but he managed and they dragged him over the side, dropping him on the deck where he shook like leaves in a stiff breeze.
“Gordon.” Olivia ran to him and helped him to his feet. “We need to get you into dry clothes.”
“You, too,” he said through chattering teeth.
She led him to their cabin, dreams of an independent life fading as they tore off their wet garments. By the time they emerged, in search of a brazier to chase the chill away, the crew had changed into dry clothes as well and were back at work, slowly regaining the distance they had lost while searching for Gordon. The dead crewman had been wrapped in a sheet and shunted off to the side. He would be buried later.
“You were right,” Olivia said as they held their hands over the brazier. “I should have stayed in New Orleans. I probably should have stayed in Williamsburg.”
“I usually am. Annoying, I know.”
Olivia forced a smile. Gordon rarely joked about anything. He was still pale, but too tough to succumb to illness. Was she disappointed? Perhaps a little. But she had to admit she was relieved as well. She wouldn’t have wanted to be left alone in the wilderness.
* * *
Gordon took a chill from his brush with death but refused to let it keep him down. After one day in bed, insisted on, oddly enough, by his wife, he rose every day, wearing extra layers, but pacing up and down the deck hoping for a glimpse of the Revenge.
“I promise to come and get you if we see it,” Olivia said, but he shunted her offer aside. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. She could spot the boat as easily as he could and she or Captain Hobbs would inform him, but he didn’t like lying in bed.
Occasionally he played chess with Hobbs or the first mate, although neither was a challenging opponent. At other times he would sit with Olivia and listen to one of the crew play his fiddle. On a whim, he even asked his wife to dance during one of those sessions. It was out of character, but there was no one to see but a handful of rough rivermen and Olivia’s flushed, happy face rewarded him for the effort.
He even wrote letters to his secretary, although he couldn’t post them until they reached a town. Olivia’s comments about the dresses in New Orleans and his own enjoyment of good Kentucky whiskey roused his business instincts. He concentrated his efforts on trade with England and Europe, but with war looming on the horizon, it would be wise to hedge his bets and find something to trade that might not be affected by tariffs and blockades.
He kept himself so busy with various distractions, he was almost surprised when they did eventually come upon the Revenge moored alongside the river in the middle of nowhere.
“There’s your quarry,” Hobbs called down from the roof where he sat every day monitoring their progress and keeping an eye out for obstructions and ambushes. “Hold up!”
The men stopped poling and steered the boat towards shore. They drew close and Hobbs said he wanted to talk to the Revenge’s captain.
A tall man, with gray at his temples and broad shoulders thick with muscle, responded. “I’m acting captain. How can I help you?”
“Are you in distress?” Hobbs asked.
“No, we require no assistance.”
“Where is Rivers?” Gordon asked.
The tall man’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you and why do you want to know?”
“Gordon Poole,” Gordon said, introducing himself. There was no recognition in the man’s face, but it was a hard face, not given to excess emotion. “I have business to discuss with Rivers.”
“He’s not here.”
“When do you expect him back?”
“I don’t keep tabs on my boss.”
Something was wrong. “Let me come aboard. We can discuss things in private.” They stared at each other for a long time, each taking the other’s measure.
“Very well,” the acting captain said at last.
Hobbs and his men lowered the gangplank and Gordon crossed to the shore and then up to the Revenge. Olivia asked to come with him, but he refused. He needed to get his son’s first mate to talk and the fewer ears the better.
The two men shook hands. “Name’s Claude,” the other man said. “We will talk in my cabin.” Gordon followed Claude into a room similar to, but even smaller, than the one he shared with Olivia. “Whiskey?” Claude asked once they were seated.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Gordon replied. When the man passed him a glass, he swirled the amber liquid before tasting it. “Good stuff.”
“Bob only buys the best. You look like an Easterner. Bob doesn’t do business with anyone back East.”
“Do you think yourself privy to all his dealings?”
Red rose in Claude’s cheeks. “Everything having to with the Revenge.”
“Exactly. The Revenge only scratches the surface of his activities. Are you aware that Bob Rivers is not your employer’s true name?”
Claude snorted. “Doesn’t take a genius to guess. Lots of folks on the river use fake names.”
“I admire your loyalty, but I’m a rich man. Tell me where he went and I’ll make it worth your while.”
“He went after some girl.”
Gordon frowned. He expected Bryce to have already married his sweetheart. Had the relationship failed or was he already chasing another woman in spite of his declarations of undying love for the St. Louis girl. “Does he do this often?”
“Where’s my money?”
Gordon pushed a coin across the scarred wooden table. “If you want more, you’re going to have to do better. I want the name of the girl and where she can be found.”
“Victoria Foster. She’s a passenger on the Fury. Bob hired one of their crew, a slimy fellow named Dalton, to spy on her. I don’t know why, but she is a beauty.”
“Where is the Fury?”
“Best guess…day or so upriver from us when Bob left. Now? Couldn’t say.”
“How long has he been gone?”
The man’s gaze dropped and he worried a scratch on the table. “About a week.”
“He left you no instructions?”
“We were to wait here.”
Claude appeared nervous. Was he lying? “You expected him to be back by now.”
“I told you the truth earlier. Bob doesn’t explain himself to me. But, yeah, time is money and we’re burning a lot of time just sitting here.”
“You think something happened to him?”
“Don’t know, but a big quake struck a couple days after he left. Buildings collapsed, boats sank, fissures opened up in the ground. Lots of things can go wrong.”
“What do you know about this boat he was after? The Fury?”
“Captained by Sebastien La Roche. Never worked for him myself, but heard he’s a fair employer. Neither the Revenge or the Fury have ever lost a cargo. They partnered together for our last trip downriver.”
“La Roche have any reason to hurt Rivers?”
Claude shrugged. “Maybe, if he thought Bob was after his girl.”
“What about Dalton, where can I find him?”
“How would I know? Might still be with the Fury, unless his cover got blown. But I overheard the boss tell him never to show his face on the Revenge again.”
Interesting. “You have been very helpful.” Gordon counted out a healthy sum and dropped the coins on the table. “I will be in touch.”
Claude pocketed the coins but made no comment. He saw his visitor off the boat and returned to lounging on the deck.
The moment Gordon stepped back aboard their boat, Olivia peppered him with questions. “What did he tell you? Where’s Bryce?”
“Claude believes Bryce is dead.”
Olivia gasped. “He told you that?”
“Not in so many wo
rds. Bryce paid a man to spy on a rival boat, specifically one of the female passengers on the boat. He left the Revenge, presumably to act on some information the spy gave him, and hasn’t been seen since. The earthquake struck a few days after he disappeared.”
Olivia might only be a woman, and a young woman at that, but she wasn’t stupid. “So, he could have been killed in the quake. Or by someone from the Fury or even the spy he hired.”
“Or he could still be alive.”
“I hope that he is, both for your sake and his.” She wrapped her arms around her body as if trying to warm herself though she wore a fur coat and warm, fuzzy hat. “What are you going to do?”
“Find him, one way or the other.”
“And if he is dead?” she asked softly. He heard the compassion in her voice and guessed she was thinking of Daniel.
“Bury him and return home,” Gordon replied, remaining quiet about his real plans. If anyone other than Mother Nature had a hand in his son’s death, they would pay, and pay dearly.
Chapter 15
Driving an ATV through the untamed forest proved more difficult than they had expected. Bryce constantly had to get out of the vehicle and clear a path. Still, they made better time than walking. When they neared their destination, he found the copse of trees where he had buried his valuables with no trouble. It hadn’t changed at all in the weeks since he’d left it. “Hard to believe this will all be underwater in a few days’ time.”
“It’s surreal, but I can see the resemblance between this clearing and the group of dead trees in the lake where you found the candlestick.”
They pulled their backpacks out of the luggage space. They each had a shovel inside their packs, even Hannah. Ari handed the small shovel to her daughter.
“Don’t wanna dig. I’m hungry.”
Bryce began digging as Ari grabbed an energy bar from her supplies and gave it to Hannah before taking up her own shovel.
“I’m hungry myself,” Bryce said, the breakfast sandwich looming in the distant past, even though technically, it was from the future.