Finding You in Time (Train Through Time Series)
Page 1
“I dreamed of the day when I would find you again,” the stranger said. “I’ve waited at the train station almost every night, hoping you would find me, but never knowing if you would take the train again, never knowing what might happen if I finally found you again.” His voice deepened, as if in pain. “I hoped you would run into my arms, and we could return to my time...to the future we had planned together. I cannot return without you, nor do I wish to be where you are not.”
Amanda’s jaw dropped. What a romantic thing to say, even if it made no sense to her at all. She thought she could fall in love with him on the spot. She must be losing her mind. Even the familiar whistle of the train as it flew along the tracks couldn’t bring her back to a sense of reality.
“I have no earthly idea what you are talking about,” she whispered. “Who are you?”
He inclined his head. “Nathan Carpenter.”
Amanda shook her head. “I’ve never heard of you before. How am I supposed to know you?”
She steeled herself against the pain in his eyes. He was definitely delusional.
“We were to be married, Amanda. But I lost you.”
“Married?” she squeaked. “Lost me? How?”
“In time,” he said simply as if he’d said the most ordinary thing. “On the train.”
FINDING YOU IN TIME
By
Bess McBride
Finding You in Time
Copyright 2013 Bess McBride
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the publisher and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
Cover Art by Tamra Westberry
Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting
Contact information: BessMcBride@gmail.com
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
For all the readers who have enjoyed the Train Through Time series,
the story continues!
For fans of time travel romance, thank you for traveling with me.
And for my family, as always.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for purchasing Finding You in Time. Finding You in Time is Book Four in the Train Through Time series. A Train Through Time was originally written as a stand-alone time travel romance, but readers asked for more and thus a series was born! The first three books of the Train Through Time Series are available individually or in a boxed set.
This is Nathan’s story, a man who lost the woman he loved and traveled through time to find her, hence the title, Finding You in Time.
Thank you for your support over the years, friends and readers. Because of your favorable comments, I continue to strive to write the best stories I can. More romances are on the way! Look for Book Three of The Moonlight Wishes in Time series in 2014.
You know I always enjoy hearing from you, so please feel free to contact me at BessMcBride@gmail.com, through my web site at www.BessMcBride.com, or my blog Will Travel for Romance.
Thanks for reading!
Bess
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Books by Bess McBride
About the Author
Chapter One
Amanda Cartwright jerked awake to the sound of screeching. Her heart pounded as she raised herself to her elbows and peered out the window. Golden lights twinkled in the darkness. She rubbed her bleary eyes, thinking she must have been having a nightmare to be so startled at the routine sounds of the train slowing as it neared Spokane. It wasn’t like she hadn’t ridden this train many times before, and she knew arrival in Spokane always occurred in the darkest hours of the night, accompanied by the screeching of the brakes and jolting of the train as it switched tracks numerous times. The now-familiar sound of the train’s whistle echoed in the night as it crossed a street.
Amanda checked the time on her cell phone. Three-thirty in the morning. They were running about two hours late. Nothing unusual there.
The train slowed to a crawl and then stopped. Bright fluorescent lighting from tall utility poles served only to diminish the darkness, leaving shadows on the station platform. Amanda heard the clanking sound of the door to the sleeper car being opened, and through the window, she saw one of the conductors moving down the platform, presumably to open the doors of other cars.
She never got off in Spokane. In fact, she almost never woke up during the stop, coming as it did in the midnight hours—both eastbound and westbound. But she was awake now. She might as well check out the station.
She slid off the bed in her miniscule superliner roomette—hardly more than a closet really—and slipped into her shoes. She opted not to turn on the lights as she slept with her curtains open. Grabbing her warm fleece jacket, Amanda slid open the compartment door to step into the narrow hallway. Her T-shirt and black stretch pants might not have been appropriate for an upscale restaurant, but they certainly served well enough as sleeping gear on a train that required wandering down the hall to find the bathroom. No en suite bathroom/bedroom combination for her. She rode the train too often to indulge in that luxury, and her job as a home stager/interior designer was barely paying for her mysterious jaunts as it was.
She made her way to the train car door and stepped down onto the concrete platform. The autumn night air was brisk, and Amanda shoved her hands in her pockets before turning to survey the length of the train. Shimmering silver under the lights, it had an ethereal glow to it, made all the more eerie by the fact that it was now completely silent and still. No screeching brakes, no whistles, no rumbling along the tracks.
She watched the station crew quietly hook up potable water hoses to the train while the car attendants offloaded boxes of garbage. A few passengers lethargically dragged rolling suitcases toward the entrance to the station, a small unassuming brick building that she knew housed only an escalator and elevator leading to the first floor terminal where other half-conscious passengers no doubt awaited their turn to board.
The scene reminded her of an old black and white movie, so monochromatic were the colors. Only the bright
chartreuse safety vests of the station crew broke the two-toned panorama.
Amanda strolled toward the station entrance with no goal in mind other than to stretch her legs and watch the muted activity on the platform. The hour was late, and it seemed that everyone—passengers, station crew and conductors—was tired and sleepy. Beyond the station toward the back of the train, the crew appeared to be unhooking the section of the train that would leave for Portland, Oregon, including the observation car—her favorite. Sometime in the past two months, the train company had decided to start sending the observation car to Portland instead of continuing on to Seattle.
If she hadn’t lived in Seattle, she might have followed the observation car to Portland. The views along the Columbia River must have been spectacular. But then she would have had to drive three hours north to her apartment in Seattle, and it didn’t make sense to chase an observation car. Nor did her frequent trips on the train make sense, averaging about one a month for the last twelve months. Amanda had no idea why she was compelled to ride the Empire Builder—not that many times. Once or twice a year would have satisfied most ardent train enthusiasts, and although she loved trains, she hadn’t had a fanatical obsession about them...until about a year ago.
Amanda remembered no catalyst, no mesmerizing advertisement on television or in a magazine that sold her on train travel, no discussion with clients in which they praised the delights of trains. Nothing. She had just awakened one night in her quiet apartment, could think of nowhere she wanted to be and nothing she wanted to do, and she had run to her computer and booked a sleeper to a place called Havre, Montana.
New passengers began to filter out of the station and disperse toward various cars on the train according to the conductors’ directions. Some carried backpacks, others pulled suitcases behind themselves. Amanda watched with interest to see which passengers would board the sleeper cars. Since the train had arrived so late, there would hardly be time to enjoy the bed before the cabin attendant would rouse them at about 5:30 a.m. in preparation for their arrival in Seattle the following morning.
A sudden sound nearby startled her, and she swung her head around. A shapeless human form huddled in a blanket against a darkened corner of the building. She had never seen a homeless person on the platform before and wondered how the unfortunate creature had managed to gain access to the upper level of the station. Didn’t he have to have a ticket to get to the platform?
Maybe he was one of those train hoppers, if it was, in fact, a he. Did they even do that anymore?
He didn’t move, appearing to be asleep, and she wasn’t sure what sound he’d made to startle her, but she thought she’d better leave the area and hurry back down the platform to her car. She passed the sleeping car attendant, who busily unloaded trash from the second sleeping car. As she reached the open doorway, she turned to scan the station building but could no longer see the homeless man.
She shivered from the cool air and headed down the short hallway to her room. As she slid open the compartment door, a hand wrapped around her mouth and a large shape pushed her into the room and onto the bed. He fell on top of her, and Amanda clawed at his hand and fought underneath him, wriggling from side to side, desperate to avoid what must be coming.
Though she could not see him, she was sure that the man holding her down was the homeless man from the station. She cursed herself for not being more careful, for not saying anything when she saw him.
“Amanda! Amanda! Stop! I won’t harm you. It’s me, Nathan!” A deep voice whispered near her ear.
Amanda froze for an instant, holding her breath. Had he used her name? How could he possibly know her name?
The man’s grip across her face eased but he did not remove his hand. He shifted his weight off of her and moved to her side. At that moment, Amanda lunged for the still open compartment door with a scream in her throat.
With a muffled curse, he pulled her back onto the twin bed while simultaneously slamming the door shut. She landed on her back this time.
“Amanda, dearest, please don’t scream! You will get me arrested,” he muttered as he attempted to hold her down with his body, stifle her screams with one hand and lock the compartment door with the other.
Even in her desperation to break free of him, a small part of Amanda’s brain continued to focus on his use of her name. How did he know her name? She didn’t care! She renewed her struggles to get out from under him. She wasn’t going to be taken easily.
With some sort of superhuman effort, he managed to get the door locked and turned his face back to look at her. While he clamped down on her mouth with one hand, with his free hand he gently brushed the hair back from her forehead as if attempting to soothe her.
“There now, my love, please calm down. I won’t hurt you.” He chuckled, and Amanda stilled again. Was he laughing?
“It would seem you don’t know me yet, Amanda. I feared as much when I saw you. What a conundrum we are in,” he murmured.
From the lights of the station, Amanda hurriedly scanned his face, but a thick dark beard covered much of his mouth and chin, and a dark watch cap covered much of his hair. His eyes, though, gleamed as if capturing the lights of the station...or with some sort of emotion.
Just then, the train began to move, galvanizing Amanda to renew her efforts to get away. The roomette had hardly been large enough for one person, let alone two. There was virtually nowhere to go, no way to maneuver out from under him.
His breath was warm on her cheeks, and somehow not unpleasant. For a homeless person, his hygiene seemed remarkably good. Perhaps he stayed at a shelter often with access to toothpaste and brush.
Amanda, struggling to regulate her breathing given the hand clamped across her mouth, tried to shake her head. Who cared about his hygiene? What was he planning to do to her? Whatever it was, he was taking his time as he seemed almost to rest on her.
“Who are you?” she muttered under his hand.
“Will you promise not to scream if I remove my hand? You have nothing to fear from me, Amanda. Despite appearances, I have no intention of forcing myself upon you...well, no further than I have already.” He emitted a sound between a sigh and a chuckle.
Amanda nodded. The sense of danger lessened. As crazy as it sounded, something about his deep voice seemed almost reassuring.
He slid his hand off her mouth and shifted his body once again to sit on the edge of the bed, blocking any possible exit from the room.
“Who are you?” she asked again in an unsteady voice. “What do you want?”
He removed his watch cap, almost gallantly, and lowered his head. Thick dark hair, parted in the middle, spilled to his shoulders.
As the train rumbled its way out of the city, the lights faded, and the room fell into darkness.
“Can I turn on a light? I can’t see you,” Amanda asked in a hesitant voice.
The man pulled the curtain behind him tight.
“Yes, that would be best.”
Amanda reached over her shoulder and pressed the light on the wall behind her. A single small yellow light shone down from the ceiling. She drew in a sharp breath.
A stunningly handsome man, his black hair shone under the light. Dark eyes watched her carefully with a hint of some emotion she could not identify. A tentative smile revealed even white teeth not quite hidden by the thick beard.
“Your expression tells me that you don’t recognize me, Amanda. Can’t you remember me?” His voice held a tone of sorrow which brought an inexplicable ache to her throat.
Remember him? Oh, no, she didn’t remember him. She’d never seen him before that night. He would not have been easy to forget. But he seemed sort of delusional.
She shook her head.
“What do you want from me?” She hated to ask the question, worried that it might rouse him to some sort of further violent action. At the moment he seemed calm, and she wanted to keep him that way.
He reached out with a hand as if to touch her cheek, and she
scooted away, backing herself into a corner of the bed against the outside wall of the train. The rocking motion felt familiar. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her legs around them.
“Please don’t touch me,” she muttered.
He dropped his hand and shoved it into his coat pocket.
“I dreamed of the day when I would find you again,” he said. “I’ve waited at the train station almost every night, hoping you would find me, but never knowing if you would take the train again, never knowing what might happen if I finally found you again.” His voice deepened, as if in pain. “I hoped you would run into my arms, and we could return to my time...to the future we had planned together. I cannot return without you, nor do I wish to be where you are not.”
Amanda’s jaw dropped. What a romantic thing to say, even if it made no sense to her at all. She thought she could fall in love with him on the spot. She must be losing her mind. Even the familiar whistle of the train as it flew along the tracks couldn’t bring her back to a sense of reality.
“I have no earthly idea what you are talking about,” she whispered. “Who are you?”
He inclined his head. “Nathan Carpenter.”
Amanda shook her head. “I’ve never heard of you before. How am I supposed to know you?”
She steeled herself against the pain in his eyes. He was definitely delusional.
“We were to be married, Amanda. But I lost you.”
“Married?” she squeaked. “Lost me? How?”
“In time,” he said simply as if he’d said the most ordinary thing. “On the train. I awakened and you were gone.”
Amanda drew in several deep breaths in an attempt to slow her racing heart. This wasn’t the time to tell him about her train obsession, that she rode the Empire Builder as often as her budget and time allowed. Twelve baffling trips to Havre, Montana—not that Havre had any particular sentimental significance for her. It was simply the best station to catch the train returning to Seattle from Chicago. Her fixation did not lead her to any other train but the Empire Builder.