“We should contact Clayton.”
“Who is this Clayton person?” Jamie raised an eyebrow.
“Richard’s brother,” Christine provided.
Jamie shook his head. “Absolutely not!”
“I agree,” Sophie said quickly. “Especially a relation of Richard’s.”
Andrew stood. “He should know this information. He and Christopher run the war offices and would be highly interested. Clayton can also help us.”
Jamie paced the room, and Sophie gripped the back of one of the chairs in an effort to stop herself from mirroring his motions. The ramifications of bringing another person into their secret circle could be huge, and the fact that Clayton was related to Richard made it even more difficult to believe it would be a good idea.
“Jamie, it’s the only way. I trust Clayton,” Andrew said.
Jamie stalled once as if to say something and then ran his hands through his hair. It was a tense several minutes as the only sound in the library was the sound of Jamie’s heavy footsteps on the hardwood floors. “Can we let Clayton know about the threat without letting him know about us?”
“Possibly.” Andrew shrugged.
“What if we can’t?” Sophie frowned.
“If you have to tell Clayton, Sophie, you can trust him,” Christine said.
“Because his brother is evidence of that?”
Christine smiled sadly. “No, because Clayton is, and always has been, the pillar of honor.”
“Sorry, Christine,” Sophie whispered.
Jamie wrapped his arm around Sophie’s waist and pulled her close. “Well, if you think it’s the only way, Andrew, then send the wire.”
“Are you sure?” Sophie glanced up at him.
Jamie kissed her temple. “Yes, baby. It might be the only way.”
Andrew nodded. “I’ll send it first thing in the morning.”
“I’m really tired.” Sophie yawned. “Does anyone care if I turn in?”
“Could you give us a minute, please?” Jamie waited for Andrew and Christine to leave the room and then turned Sophie to face him and stroked her cheek. “Are you okay?”
Sophie’s eyes filled with tears but nodded her head. “I’m just really tired and a little overwhelmed.”
Jamie caught a tear with this thumb. “Baby, everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”
“What if it’s not? What if you get killed, or I get killed?”
His hand shook. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Promise?”
Jamie kissed her and then leaned his forehead against hers. “I promise, baby. Nothing is going to happen to either one of us.”
Sophie allowed herself to take comfort in his arms, albeit briefly, and then pulled away and forced herself to climb the stairs with Christine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The next morning Christine knocked on her door, and the two made their way down to breakfast. Jamie had left before dawn, and Sophie wasn’t sure she’d see him again before dinner. Nona sat at the table with a cup of coffee and smiled when the girls walked in.
Shortly after they took their seats, the butler showed Jamie in. He walked straight over to Nona and kissed her hand, followed by a kiss on the cheek for Christine and Sophie. He wouldn’t allow the girls to get up and prepared plates for each of them before getting his own.
“How would you two feel about a party?” Nona asked.
“You may want to rephrase that, Nona.” Christine chuckled.
“Yes, of course. We are hosting an engagement, or perhaps a better word would be, reunion, party for the two of you on the fifteenth.”
Sophie gasped. “Are you sure, Nona? You really don’t need to do this. The fact that you have allowed us to stay in your home has been a huge blessing.”
“Nonsense.” Nona waved her hand dismissively. “I always like an excuse to throw a party.”
“Thank you, Nona.” Jamie laid his fork down and smiled.
“Do you have any requests, Sophie, before I get started?”
“No. Thank you, Nona. Please let me know what I can do to help.”
Nona chuckled as she left the room
Christine pushed her plate away. “Sophie, you and I have an appointment with Madame at eleven.”
“Oh? Why?”
“She’s going to make your wedding dress.”
“What?” Sophie dropped her fork. “We’re already married!”
Christine giggled. “Renewal of your vows, then. Nona insisted.”
Sophie grimaced. “I’d hoped we could just write something in a Bible and be done with it.”
“As Nona said, she likes an excuse to throw a party.”
“Christine, I don’t think I need a wedding gown. I’ll simply wear what I have.”
Christine tsked. “That’ll never do.” She turned to Jamie and said, “Covered buggy, I promise.”
“I don’t know.” Jamie set his cup down. “Could the dressmaker come here?”
“I suppose I could ask.” Christine shrugged. “It’s highly unlikely, but I can try.”
“I would appreciate that.”
Sophie let out a groan of frustration. “I hate this.”
“I know, baby.” Jamie leaned over and squeezed her hand.
Christine rose to her feet. “I’ll check with Madame and see you later.”
Sophie nodded and watched her walk out the door. “I can’t believe all of this.”
“It’s pretty overwhelming, isn’t it?”
Sophie nodded and started to chew on her thumbnail.
“I hate to say this, but I have to leave you.” Jamie set his napkin on the table.
“Can I please walk you over there? I really want to visit Samson.”
Jamie shook his head. “Not yet, Ten-Cow. I’ll check on him.”
“This sucks,” she whispered.
Jamie stood and pulled her into his arms. “Not for long, sweetheart.” He gave her a lingering kiss before going their separate ways for the morning.
Sophie spent time in the library, reading and contemplating, which is where Christine found her two hours later. “Sophie? Madame has arrived.”
Sophie stood with a smile and followed Christine up to her room. Sophie’s bedroom had been transformed into a dress shop. Two assistants stood beside a mirror, a step stool in front of the looking glass, and material was spread across the bed. The dressmaker was an elegant woman, who was either truly French, or did a very good impersonation. She was warm and helpful, and when Sophie described what she wanted, Madame seemed to know exactly what she was asking for.
* * *
Jamie had a moment of solitude and decided to check on Sophie. He made his way back to the house and up to her room. Knocking on the door, he let himself in before bid and found Sophie in a robe, surrounded by mounds of fabric and ribbon.
“What are you doing here?” Sophie stepped over the pile and rushed to greet him.
Jamie leaned down to kiss her. “I had a few minutes and thought I’d see how you were. I also missed you.”
“Madame Ford, I have the perfect fabric.”
Jamie raised his head at the sound of the French accent and nearly lost his hold on Sophie. “You!”
“Pardonnez-moi?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jamie bellowed.
“Jamie?” Sophie’s voice held concern and confusion.
“S’il vous plait,” Madame whispered as she indicated to her assistants to leave them.
“What’s going on?” Sophie grasped Jamie’s arm.
“This is the woman from the grief counseling center who came when we couldn’t find you.”
Sophie gasped. “What?”
“What are you doing here, Bernadette?” Jamie’s tone held warning. “How did you get here?”
“Perhaps you are thinking of someone else?”
“No way, lady. You better tell me who you are.”
“You don’t understand,” Bernadette stuttered.
<
br /> “Then I’d highly suggest you start explaining.”
“It is très compliqué.”
“Why don’t we start at the beginning?” Jamie crossed his arms and glared. “How did we get here?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Bernadette said evasively.
“You know exactly what I mean!” Jamie bellowed.
“Jamie.” Sophie laid her hand on his shoulder.
“No!” He slammed his palm against the wall and then turned back to Bernadette. “You were the one who held my hand and tried to convince me to let her go. You were the one who said nothing about the fact she might be alive. Nothing! You tried to make me believe I’d never see her again. You tried to make me believe she was lost to me forever.”
Tears streamed down Sophie’s cheeks. “You were in our home? Did you know what was going to happen?”
Bernadette’s hand covered her mouth. “Non, I didn’t know.”
Jamie seethed. “You lying bi—!”
Sophie gasped. “Jamie. Stop.”
“No, Sophie. I lost you! She could have stopped it,” he railed.
Bernadette shook her head. “I could not have stopped it.”
“You could not have stopped the thing you know nothing about?”
Bernadette shook her head “I cannot tell you anything.”
Sophie caught Jamie’s arm and pulled him back. Jamie forced himself to take a deep breath. “You’ve just admitted you know something, and I’d suggest you start talking, lady, or you may not walk out of this room alive,” Jamie threatened.
Bernadette took a deep breath but did not speak for several minutes. Jamie took a step forward, but Bernadette held her hand up to stay him. “There is a time portal.”
“And?”
Bernadette laid her hand across her ample bosom. “A ripple in the time, space continuum.”
“You better start telling us something we haven’t already figured out!” Jamie’s anger vibrated through his body.
“Baby, let her speak.” Sophie squeezed his shoulder.
“My husband and I are the facilitators of the portal.”
“Facilitators?” Sophie whispered.
“Yes. Caretakers, if you will. We ensure that the wrong people don’t end up where they don’t belong.”
“I don’t understand.” Sophie frowned. “Why are we here?”
“It is so complicated.”
“Start explaining.” Jamie advanced on Bernadette.
Bernadette turned to Sophie. “There is a threat in this time that could affect the future, and you have been chosen to counteract it.”
“Excuse me?” Jamie growled.
Sophie pushed him behind her and faced the seamstress. “What is this threat everyone keeps talking about?”
“Pardon?”
“Someone has been trying to kill Sophie.” Jamie scowled. “Do you know anything about that?”
Bernadette gasped. “No!”
Sophie’s hand flew to her chest. “What?”
“He has found you.”
“Who has found me?”
Bernadette began to pace, her fingers pressing into her temple. “Monsieur Cary.”
“Why would this Cary fellow want to hurt me?” Sophie pinched the bridge of her nose. “What did I do?”
“Madame Ford, you know more about this war than most, and have been chosen in order to counter the Cary family’s influence in the south.”
Sophie held her hands up. “I don’t know that much!”
“You know more than he does, and he has traveled back to further the cause of the South. You must ensure that the North prevails.”
Sophie gasped. “How the heck am I supposed to do that?”
“You simply need to make certain history continues as it is written in the future.”
“Piece of cake.” Sophie snapped her fingers and gave Jamie a worried look.
Jamie hissed. “Why Sophie? Why my wife? Surely, there are others with far more knowledge than her, who would be more equipped to succeed.”
“Oui, however, he didn’t know about Sophie. We needed someone that he would not suspect.” Bernadette took Sophie’s hands. “Your heart was failing in the future. Being sent back ensured you would live. We felt that you would be able to counteract Cary’s influence and live a long, healthy life.”
“What did you plan to do about Jamie, then? Why didn’t he come with me?”
Bernadette sighed. “He wasn’t part of the plan, Sophie. We thought you’d fall in love with someone else and life would continue.”
Jamie’s face heated with rage. “You thought she’d replace me?” he bellowed.
Bernadette held up her hands. “I admit, we did not take into consideration the effect her disappearance would have on you, which is why we sent you back. I apologize for that.”
“What about Cary?” Sophie asked.
“He was not supposed to know who you were.” Bernadette frowned. “I don’t know how he found out. I’ll have to investigate.”
“Can we go back?” Jamie asked.
Bernadette paused for several seconds. “Oui. However, if you choose to do so, Sophie’s heart will fail again, and you won’t be able to return.”
Jamie ran his hands through his hair. “Some choice.”
Bernadette grimaced. “If you kill him, this will all be over.”
Jamie scowled. “You seriously want me to murder someone in cold blood?”
She shook her head. “Non, it would be self-defense. You could even say it was part of the war.”
One of Bernadette’s assistants knocked on the door and requested a moment with the dressmaker.
Jamie stepped forward. “We’re not finished here, Bernadette.”
“I’ll return in a moment.”
Before Jamie could say anything further, she moved out of the room and closed the door. Jamie rushed to open it and found the hallway empty.
“Bernadette!” Jamie bellowed and paced the hallway.
Sophie poked her head out the door. “Where did she go?”
Jamie let out a litany of expletives.
“Jamie.” Her tone indicated admonishment, but he couldn’t help but catch her slight smile.
“She’s gone.” He ran his hands through his hair.
Sophie grabbed his arm. “Does that mean she can just ‘poof’ her way out of places?”
Jamie shrugged and reached for her. “I don’t know, baby. All I know is I don’t like it, and we need to figure out what this woman is up to.”
Sophie dropped her head onto his chest. “Well, you need to get back to the men and I need to think.”
“Ten-Cow.”
“I’m fine, Jamie. I promise. I just need to process.” At his raised eyebrow, she reached up and stroked his cheek. “Go. I’m fine.”
Jamie reluctantly left Sophie, and since she was suddenly starved, she headed to the kitchen. Finding Mary elbow deep in a large bowl of dough, Sophie wished she had a camera.
“Hi, Mary.” Mary’s tear-filled eyes met Sophie’s gaze. Sophie rushed toward the cook. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, ma’am. You should not be here.”
“Oh, Mary. I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what’s going on?”
Mary shook her head as she pulled the dough out of the bowl and slapped it onto the butcher-block table.
Sophie smiled. “Well, until you’re ready to tell me, can I help?”
Mary sniffed. “You can slice the peaches.”
“That means you’re making your succulent peach pie, aren’t you?” At Mary’s slight nod, Sophie clapped her hands. “Yum!”
Sophie washed her hands and then went to work on the fruit. Perched on a wooden stool at the large table in the middle of the room, she peeled and sliced, occasionally sneaking one of the slices into her mouth and sighing at the taste of the sweet, juicy fruit.
Mary seemed to brighten up as she and Sophie talked and joked, and Sophie was grateful for the distraction. She wasn’t sure sh
e could spend another day in the library, even if it was her favorite place. “Will you tell me why you were crying, Mary?”
“It’s not important.”
Sophie laid down her knife. “It is to me.”
Mary snorted. “A woman my age shouldn’t concern herself with such things.”
“What things?”
Mary shook her head.
“Mary? Tell me. I won’t tell anyone else, I promise.” Sophie watched emotion flood Mary’s face, and it suddenly dawned on her. “You’re in love with someone.” Mary scowled as she sprinkled the flour over the dough. “Is it one of the soldiers?” Mary sighed and then began to roll the dough with a little extra fervor. “Who?”
“No one.” Mary rolled faster.
“Riiight.” Sophie laid her hands over Mary’s. “Who is it?”
Mary huffed. “A no good, wandering excuse of a man.”
Sophie giggled. “My word, who would cause you to have a reaction like that?”
Mary mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Joe,” Mary whispered.
“Joe Roberts?” Sophie sat back slightly. “Sheriff Joe Roberts?”
“Sophie?”
Hearing Jamie’s voice, Sophie waved a finger at Mary. “This conversation isn’t over.” Mary grunted in response.
“In here,” Sophie called. Her heart leapt when Jamie walked into the room, his hair disheveled and dust covering his boots.
He was magnificent. “Hi,” she said breathlessly and raised her chin to receive his kiss.
“How has your morning been, sweetheart?”
“Good. Mary and I have been having a great time.”
“Are you making peach pies, Mary?” Jamie grinned in anticipation.
“Yes, sir.”
“Ah, you are a goddess.” He grabbed a slice from the table.
Sophie smacked his hand. “I’m helping.”
Jamie grabbed her palm and kissed it. “And you’re doing an exemplary job.”
“What are you doing back here so early?” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you checking up on me?”
“Absolutely. I’m also starving.” Jamie sent a hopeful look toward Mary.
Mary wiped the flour from her hands and cut two slices from a loaf of fresh bread, handing them to him with a jar of strawberry preserves.
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