"Can I take your sweater?" he asked.
Sarah nodded. She slowly removed a V-neck button-front sweater that she had worn on the walk and handed it to Kevin, who placed it gently on the back of a recliner.
Kevin removed his windbreaker, threw it on another chair, and then returned to a woman who had seemed to grow lovelier with each passing hour, a woman with a smile on her face.
"What do you want to do now?" she asked in a mischievous voice.
"I just want to look at you."
"You've been looking at me all night. Have you not seen enough of me?"
"I haven't," Kevin said with a laugh. "I'm not sure I ever will either."
Kevin placed his hands on her face and gave her a tender kiss.
"Thank you," he said.
"Thank you for what?"
"Thank you for saying yes. Thank you for agreeing to marry me."
Sarah tilted her head and raised a brow.
"Did you really think I wouldn't?"
Kevin nodded.
"I didn't know what to think. I'm asking quite a bit of you."
Sarah threw her arms around his neck.
"You're asking the woman you love to marry you, to spend the rest of her life with you, and to presumably bear your children. That's asking what every man asks."
"You know what I mean."
"I know what you mean. I also know it doesn't make a difference. When I agreed to be your wife, I agreed to do so without conditions. I do want to see my family again. I want to see many things again, but I'm prepared to give them up if I have to. You are my future now."
Kevin shook his head.
"You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that."
"I can guess," she said.
He leaned forward and kissed her again, first softly and tentatively and then more forcefully and purposefully. When she responded in kind, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Within seconds the two moved as one across the living room floor toward a doorway that led to the stairs, the second floor, and a bedroom Kevin had not used in five months.
"Kevin, I don't know."
"I do."
Kevin kissed her on her lips, her cheeks, and her slender neck. He charged ahead as he had rarely done before and never with someone who loved him as much as he loved her. He found Sarah's mouth again as they moved toward the stairs. When she sighed, he repeated the greeting. When she moaned, he let his hands explore.
"Oh, Kevin."
Sarah put her hands on his face and kissed him with a force that took him aback. He could feel her hesitation recede with each step and her desire grow with each bump in the dark.
When they reached the stairs, he lowered his hands to her hips and began to lift her tank top, which he'd already pulled out of place on the breathless waltz from the living room. He worked on it slowly but steadily as they stumbled step by step to the second floor in a sweaty embrace. By the time they reached the pitch-black hallway, she was bare from the waist up.
Sarah stopped to catch her breath and grabbed each of his hands, as if to slow a train she had no intention of stopping. When she regained what was left of her composure, she sighed softly, and again threw her arms around his neck.
"I love you, Kevin. I love you more than life itself," she said, "but if I give in tonight you had better keep your word."
"What?"
"You'd better marry me."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"Kevin?"
"I'm already standing at the altar."
CHAPTER 68: KEVIN
Wallace, Idaho – Saturday, June 22, 2013
Kevin stared out his bedroom window and looked at a simple structure that had turned out to be the answer to his dreams. The chamber of stones may have been a second-rate storage facility, but as a gateway to a better life it was top-notch.
"Good morning."
Kevin looked over his shoulder and saw an angel smiling in his bed.
"Good morning."
"You look rather serious, Mr. Johnson. Did the sun fail to rise?"
Kevin smiled and laughed to himself. He tried to recall if he had ever seen Sarah in a bad mood and couldn't. Getting used to sunshine every day would require an adjustment.
"No. It's out there. I was just thinking."
"Were you thinking about me?"
"Is there anyone else in the room?"
"I hope not," Sarah said with a giggle.
Kevin turned away from the window and gazed at the woman who had agreed not only to be his wife but also to be his wife in the twenty-first century, a distinction that made all the difference in the world.
"You look fetching, Mrs. Johnson."
"I'm not fetching. I'm naked. I'm not Mrs. Johnson either, but I'm looking forward to the day I can wear that title proudly," she said. "I trust I won't have long to wait."
"You won't," Kevin said. "I kind of like the idea of a June wedding."
"I do, too, so long as you're talking about June of this year."
Kevin chuckled.
"I am."
Kevin tried to reconcile images of the modern beauty hiding under his sheets with images of a teacher who wore tea gowns and her hair in a pile and couldn't do it. For all practical purposes, they were two different people.
Sarah sat up and threw a pillow behind her back.
"Is this where I make you breakfast and fetch your slippers?"
"No," Kevin said. "This is where I make you breakfast and tell you I love you."
"I like the sound of that."
"You should."
Kevin climbed back into bed and kissed Sarah softly. She had not lost her ardor overnight.
"That was nice."
"It was supposed to be nice."
Kevin studied her face and noticed a change. Sarah seemed far more relaxed and at ease not only with her surroundings but also with the idea of making a social leap that would have probably seemed unimaginable even a few weeks earlier.
"Do you feel different?" he asked.
Sarah took a breath.
"I feel alive. I never imagined that something like that could be so wonderful."
Kevin kissed her again.
"I'm glad. I kind of rushed things, but I'm in no mood to apologize. I've been dreaming of a night like last night for weeks, months even."
"Months?"
"Months."
"I have too," Sarah said. "I know proper women aren't supposed to think of such things, but I've decided that propriety belongs in 1910."
Kevin laughed.
"I agree."
"I'm glad you concur. However, now that you've had your way with me, we should probably discuss a few things."
"Had my way? You wound me," Kevin said as he put a hand over his heart. "You make last night sound so . . . one-sided. I merely showed you my affection."
"Fair enough. Now that you've showed me your affection, we should probably discuss a few things."
Kevin smiled.
"What would you like to discuss?"
"Well, we could start with children. It seems like a timely topic. I suppose you would like to have three or four strapping sons."
"That's where you're wrong."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I want daughters."
"Daughters?"
"Daughters. Don't get me wrong. I'd welcome a son, but I'd prefer to have daughters – each as intelligent, kind, and beautiful as her mother. Six sounds about right."
"Six?" Sarah asked. She laughed. "You're awfully ambitious, Mr. Johnson. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you wanted to be a modern-day Jethro."
"Maybe. But that's what I want. I know. It sounds like a nightmare."
Sarah reached for his hand and kissed it.
"No. It sounds like a dream. I'd like to have daughters too."
Kevin threw his arm around his fiancée and took stock of the morning. He wasn't just having a good start to his day. He was having a good start to the rest of hi
s life.
Deciding that he wanted to maintain the wonderful vibe as long as he could, Kevin pulled Sarah close and held her in blissful silence for fifteen minutes. He spoke only when his curiosity got the best of him.
"You said we should discuss a few things, as in plural," he said. "Is there anything else you want to talk about before I scramble some eggs?"
Sarah nodded but didn't speak. She instead pulled the sheet over her bare chest, nestled into Kevin's side, and looked at him with wary eyes. When it appeared that she would not verbalize the second thing she wanted to discuss, he broke the silence.
"Well, what is it?"
"I want to go back to 1910."
"You want to go back?"
She nodded again.
"Why?" he asked.
"I want to take care of a few things."
"What kind of things?"
"I want to send a letter to my parents, collect some personal items at the house, and tender my resignation. I'd like to go back today."
Kevin groaned as his blissful morning took a not-so-blissful turn. He knew it was time to share a tidbit about the revolving-door time machine in Roger Johnson's backyard.
"Before we go further, Sarah, I have to tell you something about the portal."
"What's that?"
"It's unreliable when sending travelers forward – very unreliable. That may pose a problem for us as a couple. I don't know if the portal will consider the next trip to 1910 to be your first one back or my fourth one there. We may arrive on July 22 or we may not. The process seems to be random."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we may exit the chamber on January 1, April 15, or June 5. Think about how you would handle dealing with people we know on each of those dates – or any date before July 22."
"I understand."
"I'm not saying I won't ever go back. I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it. I just think we should talk about this some more before committing to a trip."
Sarah frowned and looked away before returning to Kevin.
"I want to see my family again, but if I can't, or at least can't for a while, I want to send them a letter telling them that I won't be coming home soon. I had planned to visit my parents in June and July, but I canceled those plans when I began seeing you."
"Does your family know about me?"
Sarah nodded.
"I've mentioned you in several letters. My parents know that I'm seeing someone who is more than a casual acquaintance. They understand why I'm not coming home this summer. They would not understand if I never came home."
Kevin frowned slightly, drawing a response from Sarah. She tilted her head and met his eyes.
"Just how did you think this would work?" she asked.
"I figured we would pick a year and go from there. If we exited in February, then we would visit your folks in February. If we exited in October, then we would visit them then. They wouldn't know the difference. They would think we had spent the interim months or years living in Wallace or somewhere else."
"What about our friends and acquaintances?"
"What about them?" Kevin asked. "We said goodbye to Andy and Sadie. As for the rest, I took care of them by writing some letters."
"What letters?"
"I wrote three letters explaining that we had eloped and wouldn't return, at least to teach at the high school next year. I mailed one each to Maude, the Marshalls, and Ed Morrison."
Sarah leaned back and sighed.
"I'd still like to go back, at least once, to collect my things and put a letter in the mail."
Kevin grabbed her hand.
"There is one more thing. It's something I should have told you a long time ago."
"What?"
"There's going to be a fire, Sarah, a big one. It's going to burn half the Bitterroots and at least a third of Wallace. A lot of trees and buildings are going to go up in smoke and more than eighty people are going to die, and there's not a thing we can do about it."
"This will happen in 1910?"
Kevin nodded.
"When will it start?" Sarah asked, with alarm in her voice.
Kevin frowned. He might as well get this over with.
"It will start in July and August in a thousand places you've never heard of. It'll grow bigger and more intense and finally spin out of control on August 20 when it gets a push from the wind. The only thing anyone near it will be able to do is get out of its path, and a lot of people won't be able to do even that."
"Oh, Lord."
"That's why I was hesitant to tell you everything. There are risks to traveling back in time, risks that may not be worth taking or at least taking now."
"Did you say that the process is random?"
"I did. We have as much chance at arriving on August 20 as we do on any other date in 1910."
"That's one in 365. Those are good odds, Kevin."
Kevin sighed and then took a long look at the woman who had just talked him into doing something he didn't want to do. He knew she was right. She was usually right. In all probability, they would arrive on a date that was not only safe but also one they could manage.
"They are. If you want to go back today, then we'll go back today."
Sarah smiled softly and kissed him on the cheek.
"Thank you."
Kevin glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand and saw that it was eight fifteen. It was time to get moving, particularly if he wanted to complete his next excursion before his family returned from Spokane.
"I should probably get started on breakfast. Do you have any requests?"
Sarah flashed a mischievous grin.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"What?"
"I want some more of your affection."
CHAPTER 69: KEVIN
Kevin knew he had a problem before he cracked the first egg. Even if he wanted to make a quick trip back to 1910, he might not be able to. The portal was active only in the light of a solstice sun or the shadow of the fullest moon. The solstice, June 21, had come and gone. All that remained was a shadow that he had not even begun to understand.
That didn't stop him from at least trying to honor her request. After they showered, ate breakfast, and changed back into what Kevin now called their period costumes, they walked out of the house at ten after ten and proceeded directly to the chamber of stones.
"Do you think it will work?" Sarah asked.
"I hope so. If it doesn't, we'll try again tomorrow night. The moon will be full then and we won't have to worry about shadows or solstices or anything else."
Kevin spelled out MCMX in 22-carat gold and then stood back. After waiting a full minute, he picked up the double eagles, stuffed them into the pocket of his Stan Laurel suit, and grabbed the hand of his Gibson-girl fiancée.
"Here we go again," he said.
Kevin shut the door to the shed and said goodbye to the bright morning sun. A moment later, he pulled Sarah close, kissed her cheek, and waited for an outcome that was anything but certain.
He noticed a change about two minutes in, but it was anything but welcome. Though the temperature of the air remained roughly the same, the quality of the air did not. Thick smoke, the kind one might associate with a kitchen fire, began to spill through the vents and fill the shed.
"I don't like this."
"Neither do I," Sarah said.
"Let's get out."
When Kevin opened the door and led Sarah out of the chamber into what he assumed was Asa Johnson's backyard, his stomach dropped. Thick smoke filled a strangely dark sky and made breathing decidedly difficult. If this was not the day of the fire, it was definitely the day before. If his latest adventure was a game of time-travel craps, he had just rolled snake eyes.
"You're not thinking what I'm thinking, are you?" she asked.
"I am. I'm not sure we should stick around. We can always try again tomorrow."
Sarah let go of his hand, walked deeper into the yard, and examined her surroundi
ngs.
"It's still the early evening. I can tell by the temperature. When did that fire reach Wallace?"
"I think it was around nine at night, according to a book I read. I don't remember. I think we should go, Sarah. We can even try again the minute we get back. We're bound to get February or October the next time."
Sarah looked at Kevin and then took another visual inventory of the neighborhood, or what she could see of it. When she was done, she stepped forward and grabbed his hand.
"The Marshalls are just down the street. Let's see if they're home. If they're not, we'll come straight back and try another time. OK?"
Kevin didn't like the idea at all, but he couldn't think of a good counterargument. If there was a monster fire out there, then it was still at least an hour or two away. He would be able to hear it long before he saw it. He also knew the rock shed would not burn to the ground in their absence. Walking a few blocks, therefore, was an acceptable risk.
When they arrived at the stately home of George and Bertha Marshall ten minutes later, they found the front door unlocked. Sarah opened the door slowly and led Kevin into a small receiving room she had passed through hundreds of times.
"George? Bertha? Is anyone home?" she asked.
"Maybe you should just get your things," Kevin said. "I'll stay here."
Sarah nodded.
"I'll only be a moment."
When she walked out of the parlor and out of sight, Kevin looked around the room and saw several items of interest. The first was a clock on a mantle, a clock with a big hand on the twelve and a small hand on the six. It may have looked like midnight outside, but it was only 6 p.m.
Kevin then turned his attention to three oil paintings of Civil War battle scenes. The first portrayed Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg, the others scenes from Antietam and Cold Harbor. Even though the War Between the States was forty-five years distant, it still raged in the home of one resident of Wallace, Idaho, and presumably in his mind.
Kevin walked across the room to a framed photograph of a young man in the crisp uniform of an Army private. He didn't remember the young man's name, but he knew his story.
George and Bertha's oldest son had been part of a regiment ordered to disarm Lakota living on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in what was then the brand-new state of South Dakota. When his regiment had encountered resistance, Private Marshall and others began shooting not only at those they had come to subdue but apparently also at each other. His friendly-fire death on December 29, 1890, at the start of the Wounded Knee Massacre, had been one of the last of the American Indian wars.
The Fire (Northwest Passage Book 4) Page 31