“I wish you’d call me Meredith. You always did before.” This elicited a strangled groan, and she reached into her pocket for the chocolates. “I brought you something.”
“Aye, and didn’t I just read a wee bit of the something you brought me,” he said, arching a brow. “Including the part about being robbed and having my throat slit two weeks hence?”
“Not the letter.” She held out her hand. “I have chocolates.”
He brightened. “Do you now? I believe we’ve a tarp here somewhere,” he said, looking around. “Ah, here it is.” Daniel strode to a wheelbarrow and took out a folded piece of what appeared to be canvas. “Come. Sit with me, Meredith.” He shook out the tarp and laid it on a grassy hillock. “Tell me everything from the very beginning.”
“Here.” Meredith handed him the chocolates as she joined him, marveling at his physicality, his living, breathing, masculine presence. Instead of the chill of death, Daniel radiated heat, and he smelled of the soap he’d used when he washed off the day’s grit and dust.
“What is this wrapping?” he asked, turning one of the squares over and over.
“It’s very thin aluminum foil, which will not become popular in this country until the twentieth century.”
“Further proof of the implausible,” he muttered. “Go on, lass,” he said as he popped a chocolate into his mouth.
“The story began when I came across an advertisement I found, calling for volunteers to act as tour guides in a haunted ghost town,” she began, omitting the word online, which would require an explanation. “I brought a copy with me, by the way.” As he savored the treats, she summarized their story, touching upon everything that had happened since she’d arrived in Garretsville. By the time she finished, the sun had set completely, and the moon had risen.
“Alpin, the fae man who helped us, planted a suggestion within you. One that would give you a sense of recognition when we met. That’s why you remember me, or at least you feel as if you do.”
“I believe I would have had the feeling of recognition even if he hadn’t planted the suggestion. I’ve no doubt I wanted to remember you, Meredith MacCarthy, and that’s a fact.” He turned a lopsided, heart-melting smile her way. “You and I helped Frederick Klein’s great-great-granddaughter uncover the fortune he’d buried?”
“We did.” She snorted. “After everything I’ve told you, that’s what stands out? How is it you’re accepting all of this so easily? You seem so … calm. More so than I am.”
“It’s too unbelievable not to be true, if that makes any sense.” He flashed her a wry look. “With my life hanging in the balance, what choice do I have?”
“I see what you mean.” Her stomach growled.
“Ah, lass, forgive me. You must be starving. Let’s return to the cabin. I hope there might be stew left for the two of us.” He stood and reached out to help her up.
Her throat constricted as his strong, callused hand wrapped around hers. “You’re so warm,” she murmured, tightening her grip as she pulled herself to standing. “And alive.”
“Thanks to you, and let us hope I’ll continue living for many years to come.”
“That’s the plan.” She expected him to let go of her once she was on her feet, but he didn’t. The wonderful sensation of her hand in his so overwhelmed her that she hardly dared to breathe lest she wake up to discover this was all a dream.
“So, in the distant future, you and I were … close?” he asked quietly.
“As close as a girl and a ghost can be.” Thoughts of the intimacy they’d shared when he’d written the letter played through her mind, and she smiled. “We did spend a lot of time together. I was doing research on your family, trying to find out what became of them after you left.”
She glanced his way. His damp hair had formed corkscrew curls springing up everywhere. Oh, how she longed to run her fingers through those curls. “You desperately wanted to cross into the light and leave your earthly worries behind. I wanted to give you that gift if I could.”
She explained briefly how she’d gone to town and searched using the internet without getting into the details of how it all worked. “Things are very different in the twenty-first century than they are now. It’s hard to explain all the technology because I don’t really understand it myself.”
“To be honest, I don’t wish for an explanation.” He squeezed her hand. “You’ve a kind heart, Meredith. What did you find during your search?”
“Nothing. I fear the records might have been lost or destroyed during World War II.”
His brow rose, and a look of alarm suffused his features. “The world will be at war? Ireland was involved? When?”
She nodded. “World War II began in 1939 and ended in 1945. I’ve visited many buildings in Ireland that suffered great damage during that war.” She gave him a brief description of the situation leading to the war. “Not only that, but this country will go through a war that begins in April, 1861.” As they walked, she described the events leading to the Civil War and how the Union prevailed over the South’s attempt to secede.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “I shall have to share this information with Charles and his kin.”
When they reached the cabin, he let go of her hand and opened the door for her. She preceded him over the threshold and into the warm, cozy cabin, greeted by the scents of stew and biscuits. Her stomach growled again.
Charles sat at the kitchen table, the leather document holder exactly where she’d left it. Oliver stood by the sink washing dishes.
“Is there any food left?” Daniel asked as he pulled out a chair for her at the table.
“Of course. The pot is still warm on the back hob, and the biscuits are in the covered basket there.” He twisted around and jutted his chin toward the counter. As Daniel put their suppers together, the two men talked about her letter, Charles filling him in on the parts Daniel hadn’t yet read.
“Would either of you like to see the article that led me on this journey in the first place?” she asked.
“Aye, I’ve been consumed by curiosity about what else you might have in that wee satchel,” Charles said.
She drew out the papers, along with her phone. “Here it is, she said, handing the copy to Charles. “And this is what is called a smart phone. I have pictures to show you.”
“Is my video of the day we uncovered Klein’s treasure on your cell?” Oliver asked.
“Yes. Judy shared it with me.”
“Cool. Cool.” He joined them at the table. “I have my phone with me as well.”
“Let’s wait to … um … open your … what did you call the wee box?” Charles stammered, his expression one of alarm.
“They’re called cell phones, mobile phones, or smart phones.”
“Oh? After everything else we’ve learned this evening, perhaps it would be best to save that experience for another day. What do you think, Dan?”
“I agree. I don’t know if can handle much more.” Daniel placed a bowl of stew and the basket of biscuits in front of her, along with a butter knife and spoon.
“I thought we might avoid being robbed and murdered by taking our gold to the assayer in Deer Lodge, but that would only leave the three to prey upon others.” Daniel gestured toward her. “We’ve all heard about the old man found by his sluice with his throat slit, and don’t forget the whore and her lover who disappeared. Then there were the two other prospectors who were ambushed and murdered on the way into town. Meredith tells me they’ll rob and murder Frederick Klein next spring.”
“Aye, the same avoidance strategy occurred to me, but we could only do that for so long before they figured things out and followed us. If Joe Biggs is involved, he knows we’ve struck gold. We’ve already taken a few of our hauls to him.” Charles crossed his arms in front of his chest, the newspaper article sitting in front of him. “Thanks to Meredith, you and I might bring those murderous thieves to justice.”
Daniel set a crock of honey on the table ne
xt to the biscuits and took the seat to her right. Exhausted and hungry, she was content to eat and listen to the conversation going on around her.
“Aye. We need to do things exactly as we’d planned if we’re to stop them,” Daniel said, looking her way. “Charles and I always take our haul to town on Mondays. Biggs is less busy at the beginning of the week.”
“Smart, but predictable,” she replied.
“How can we present this to Sheriff Ramsey, so as not to sound completely cracked?”
“I have an idea about that,” Oliver told them.
“Do you?” Charles cocked a brow. “Let’s hear it then.”
“Those three men can’t spend all their time hiding out in the mountains. They need to go somewhere for supplies, and they’d want to avoid Garretsville, right? People might remember the three of them if they hung out in town. They aren’t part of the mining community, they’re not ranchers, and they don’t have jobs in town. They’d be conspicuous.”
“Likely so.” Charles nodded. “Go on.”
“We can say we overheard them discussing their plans while we were dining in …” He frowned. “Are there hotels in Missoula? Is it even a town at this point?”
“Missoula?” Daniel said, looking confused.
“They’d know the settlement as Hellgate,” she said, glancing at Oliver. “It wasn’t called Missoula until 1866. I did research about the area before traveling to Garretsville.” How could she not do research about the area? History was her drug of choice.
“She’s right,” Charles confirmed. “Hellgate is mostly a trading post, a small settlement, and the beginnings of a fort. There’s an inn of sorts above Higgin’s Trading Post, and they do serve food there. We occasionally go to the trading post to pick up and send our mail. Unless there’s a sufficient amount addressed to Garretsville, the mail coach defers to Hellgate for delivery. The same goes for shipments of needed equipment. The settlement is located on a well- established route which continues westward through the mountains. There’s even talk of bringing the railroad through there in the near future.”
“Perfect.” Oliver bobbed his head. “I’m guessing it must be reachable by stagecoach then. We can say we stayed in Hellgate while waiting for you to come for us.”
Charles flashed Oliver a questioning look. “And why would we be coming for you, laddie?”
“Because, Charles, we’re your American cousins from the East come to visit,” Meredith chimed in between mouthfuls. “That’s what I was supposed to claim anyway. Daniel and I hadn’t planned on Oliver at the time.”
“It’s a good thing he’s here, Meredith,” Charles said, sending her a pointed look. “A young woman traveling alone through the frontier … anything could have happened to you. You’d have been easy prey.”
“I wasn’t traveling through Montana territory, Charles. I traveled through time and space, landing exactly where Daniel and I agreed I should.”
“Still, for the sake of appearances …” Charles groaned and scrubbed his face with both hands. “That I cannot wrap my head around. Now would be a good time to explain how it is you two accomplished such an extraordinary feat.”
“This has been a very long day, and I’m exhausted. Can explanations wait until tomorrow?” she asked.
“I can explain everything to him, Meredith,” Oliver volunteered. “I’m not tired.”
“I suppose. I already told Daniel.”
“Great. Great.” Oliver looked pleased and relieved that she’d thawed a little where he was concerned.
Charles picked up the article and began to read. “May we keep this?”
“Of course. I brought it for you and Daniel. Do with it whatever you want, just note the date it was published.”
Charles looked carefully at the top of the first of the two pages and grunted. “Duly noted.”
“You’ll take my room upstairs, Meredith. We’ve spare blankets enough. Charles and I will put together a couple of pallets down here for me and Oliver.” Daniel rose from the table, gathered their now empty dishes and set them in the pail of soapy water. “I’ll take your bag up.” He grabbed her bag before heading up the narrow steps to his bedroom.
“Thank you.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from him until he’d disappeared into the shadows of the room. Soon, the soft yellow glow of a kerosene lantern illuminated the opened doorway. A few minutes later, he came back down with his arms full of blankets and a pillow. Charles had also gone to his room off the kitchen, returning with more blankets and another pillow.
“Make yourself at home, lass,” Daniel told her. “My room is yours for as long as you wish.” Smiling, he gestured toward the stairway.
“I need to … um …” They had to have an outhouse, but she hadn’t seen it.
“Right. A visit to the necessary.” Daniel set the blankets and pillow on the chair by the stove, and grabbed the lantern sitting on the end table. He strode to the door. “It’s not far.”
Meredith grabbed her makeshift-shawl and followed him out of the cabin into the clear, chilly night. He led her down a well-worn path to a clearing surrounded by scrubby pines and bushes. A sturdily-built outhouse with a tin roof stood in the middle. “Now I wish I’d thought to pack toilet paper,” she muttered under her breath.
“What might that be?” Daniel asked. “We keep paper in the privy, along with a bucket of lime.”
“Toilet paper is a lot softer than newspaper. It’s 1854 now, right?”
“Aye.”
“If I recall correctly, toilet tissue will be invented within the next decade or so.” She snorted. “I can’t believe we’re talking about toilet paper.” Eyeing the outhouse warily, she registered the smell, though it wasn’t overwhelming thanks to the lime. “May I borrow the lantern?”
“Of course. You can hang it from the chain hanging from the ceiling. There’s a hook at the end.” He handed her the lantern. “I’ll be right over there should you need me.”
“Er … why would I need you?”
“Snakes and other critters find their way into outhouses all the time. Then there are the spiders.”
“Lovely.” She shuddered and drew in a breath for courage, thinking about indoor plumbing, showers, and all the other modern amenities she’d be without for the next few weeks. Thankfully, there were no snakes inside the outhouse, and the privy proved to be well maintained. A stack of old newspapers were kept in a wooden box beside the polished wooden seat, and a tin bucket of lime sat on the floor. Beside the pail, a long-handled scoop hung from a nail.
Meredith placed the lantern on the hook. She dealt with the nineteenth century clothing as best she could and took care of her personal needs. Embarrassed by the proceedings, Meredith tossed in a scoopful of lime into the privy. She lifted the lantern from the hook, and made sure she’d left everything as she’d found it. She exited as quietly as possible, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“No snakes,” she said, forcing a smile.
“I’m glad.” Daniel joined her and they began walking back to the cabin. “Tell me about yourself, Meredith.”
His question was so reminiscent of the one he’d asked her in the future, she nearly stumbled. She gave him a brief description of her life, what she did for a living and where she lived.
“Hmm.”
“Is there something specific you’d like to know?”
“Aye.” He went quiet for several seconds and drew in a long breath. He glanced sideways at her. “Is there a man in your life? Are you spoken for, lass?”
Her pulse kicked up several notches. “No, I’m not seeing anyone. What with volunteering in Garretsville this summer, helping ghosts and all … there really hasn’t been an opportunity.”
“Aye, well, in the here and now, I’m not a ghost needing help.”
She swallowed a few times. “I’m well aware.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m heading into Garretsville for supplies tomorrow. Would you care to join me? I thought we might stop in at the din
er for lunch before heading back to camp.”
“I’d like that.” She gazed out over the landscape, her smile so wide her cheeks ached.
After washing up and saying goodnight, Meredith headed for the cozy loft, surprised to find Daniel had a decent mattress rather than the simple cot she’d expected. She hung her clothing on pegs along the wall, donned her era appropriate nightgown, and slid between the sheets—flannel of course. Surrounded by Daniel’s scent, and with anticipation for tomorrow’s lunch date filling her thoughts, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Meredith believed he’d been calm throughout all her revelations? He’d been no such thing, though he’d done his best to hide his growing anxiety from her. His nerves were stretched so taut he could hardly sit still. After he’d finished washing and putting away the dishes, Daniel took his place at the kitchen table and drew the letter to him. She’d told him he’d written the words while allowing him to possess her. What must that have been like?
“Well, Charles, after reading this, you know all my deepest secrets.” He flashed his friend a rueful look.
“Aye, imagine that. A child afraid of the dark. Now that I know, don’t think I won’t take advantage,” he teased.
“I’m not overly worried.” He grinned.
Daniel half listened as Oliver regaled them with the fantastical stories of Meredith’s sisters and how she’d been able to contact the fae. The fae, for God’s sake! “Incredible.”
“I know, right?” Oliver gushed. “Can you see why I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by? I had to follow her. I’m going to write a fantasy time travel book about all of this.” He swung an arm in the air. “It’s bound to be a bestseller.”
“I suppose you’ll also do that without the lady’s permission,” Charles bit out. “Sharing none of the profit, I’ll wager.”
“What?” Oliver blinked a few times. “Oh, I won’t use her name, and it will be a fictional retelling, complete with embellishments and written from my point of view, not hers. It’ll be my story.”
Summoned in Time: A magical, ghostly, time travel romance... (The MacCarthy Sisters Book 3) Page 15