Finding You in Time (Train Through Time Series)

by Bess McBride

  “I see,” Nathan said with a heavy sigh. A note of bitterness crept into his voice, and he unleashed words before he could bite his tongue.

  “There was a time not so long ago when it would not have been a matter of concern for you...this ‘lie.’ A time when we were engaged, and you wished to become Mrs. Carpenter.”

  Amanda jumped up hastily.

  “Stop trying to remind me,” she snapped. “Have you any idea what this is like for me? I don’t know how it was before. I’ll never know how it was before. My arrival, meeting you...hopefully in a less violent way, falling in love with you...at the same time, I hope. It’s like I’m trying to measure up to my ever-loving, patient, oh-so-sweet doppleganger! I’m me! I’m not her! And I have worries and fears. I don’t know you, not at all. I’m not engaged to you. We’re not married. And you don’t know me!”

  Amanda’s voice had risen, and Nathan winced as he saw Mr. Spivey staring at them. From the shocked look on the station agent’s face, he knew he had heard Amanda’s last few words. Amanda caught Nathan’s expression and turned around to look at Mr. Spivey. She clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “This isn’t good,” she whispered.

  Mr. Spivey came around from behind the counter and faced them, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “What’s all this?” he muttered. “You aren’t married? And you don’t know each other? What sort of shenanigans are you two up to?”

  Nathan rose. “No shenanigans, Mr. Spivey. None at all. My wife was simply relating a conversation she heard from a friend of ours.” Nathan felt at all costs that he must protect Amanda’s reputation. After all, he had forced her into this predicament.

  Mr. Spivey shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t believe you, Mr. Carpenter. You have taken my wife’s hospitality and performed shameful acts in our hotel.”

  Chapter Nine

  Amanda watched as Nathan drew himself up to his full height. “I am offended by your speech, Mr. Spivey, especially in front of a woman. And may I remind you that Mrs. Carpenter and I slept in separate rooms, therefore, any insinuation of inappropriate behavior is inaccurate.”

  Even if Mr. Spivey wasn’t intimidated, Amanda was. She could have almost laughed at the “performed shameful acts” line if the whole thing didn’t feel so distasteful. Oh, why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut?

  Mr. Spivey’s face took on a mulish look. “I apologize, Mrs. Carpenter,” he said. “Yes, I do remember Mrs. Spivey mentioned you had taken two rooms.”

  Nathan nodded from somewhere far above Mr. Spivey’s head. It was as if he’d grown five inches.

  “However, since you feel that you cannot believe that Mrs. Carpenter and I are married, perhaps it is better if we vacate your hotel. I do thank you and Mrs. Spivey for your assistance in our time of need last night and this morning. I would like to send this telegram, and settle my bill for the telegrams with you. We will then proceed to the hotel, collect our things, pay the account and move on.”

  Amanda stared straight ahead, afraid to look at Mr. Spivey for fear she would look as guilty as she felt. The irony of fussing about lying only to be caught in a lie was not lost on her.

  “Now, now, that won’t be necessary,” Mr. Spivey said. “I don’t want to bring the missus in on this. The less who know of our discussion here, the better. Mrs. Carpenter, if you say that you and Mr. Carpenter are married, that will be good enough for me. After all, it was you I heard talking.”

  Before Amanda could nod, Nathan broke in.

  “No,” Nathan said in a stern voice. “You will not question my wife, Mr. Spivey. I have told you all you need to know. Do you wish us to relocate? There are other hotels.”

  “No, no,” Mr. Spivey said. “No need to do that. We’ll just act as if nothing has occurred.”

  “Nothing has occurred, Mr. Spivey. Thank you. My dear, will you please wait outside for me? I won’t be a moment.”

  Amanda hesitated. Nathan wasn’t going to hit the older man, was he? He certainly looked angry enough to.

  “I’ll be right outside,” Amanda murmured. “Right outside.”

  Nathan turned to her. “Thank you, dear. Don’t worry.”

  Amanda crossed the lobby and stepped outside, turning her back on the door and feeling as if she were watching the front door of a bank while her accomplices robbed it. She heard no crashing, no pleas for help, no fists to face.

  The door opened a few moments later, and Nathan stepped out. Amanda waited until the door was shut.

  “What did you do? You didn’t smack him, did you?”

  “I did not,” Nathan said with a grim face.

  “Well, what were you so angry about? We were lying. I almost felt sorry for Mr. Spivey, although performing ‘shameful acts’ was a bit too much.”

  “Amanda!” Nathan remonstrated. “Please.” He looked away from her.

  “Oh, dear, sorry. So, what did you say?” Amanda thought she would have to remember that men in 1906 were probably not as uninhibited as they were in her time.

  “I simply gave him the telegram, paid for both telegrams and wished him a good day. I sent you away because I wanted you out of the building and away from his prying eyes. This entire episode began because you were upset about having to lie. I did not want to you to feel even worse than you already did.”

  “Well, I do feel guilty. Nothing is going to help that.”

  “I understand, Amanda, truly I do. It is not inherently in my nature to lie, although I have become frightfully adept at it over the past year. However, if it is a matter of your reputation or a few simple lies that harm no one, then I choose to protect your reputation. In my world, a woman’s reputation means a great deal. She can be shunned by people of her own class if rumors abound, and I cannot bear that for you. I would do anything to prevent that from happening to you.”

  Amanda eyed him. He seemed very passionate about the subject, but she had a hard time taking it seriously. Her reputation. She did worry about him though, and what would happen if his “people,”—family, friends, associates—caught him in such a monumental lie.

  “After all, I have returned to my time because of your generosity. I owe you that.”

  Amanda swallowed hard. “No, you don’t owe me anything. Remember, I didn’t really think the time travel thing was going to work. I was only trying to appease you and help you see that you were delusional.”

  “Mr. Spivey assures me that he will not speak to Mrs. Spivey. I think he will adhere to his promise as he is not quite certain of our marital status. Would you like to continue on to the river or return to the hotel?”

  Amanda shook her head. “I think maybe back to the hotel, to our separate rooms.” She almost smiled. “This whole thing just took the sternwheeling wind out of my sails,” she said.

  Nathan chuckled. “Yes, I know how you feel. I do not like to abuse the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Spivey.”

  They returned to the hotel. Upon hearing them enter, Mrs. Spivey popped her head out of the kitchen, nodded and asked about their morning.

  “Everything went very well, Mrs. Spivey, thank you very much. Mrs. Murphy was very generous.”

  “Your things have been delivered to your rooms,” Mrs. Spivey said. “I had them sent to the separate rooms. I hope that was all right?” She glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen as if in a hurry to return to her dinner.

  Amanda shot Nathan a pointed look and rolled her eyes. Mrs. Spivey returned her distracted attention to them.

  “Yes, yes, that is quite all right,” Nathan said in a choked voice. He cleared his throat. “A friend of mine, Mr. Robert Chamberlain, has arrived in town, and I invited him to dine with us. I hope that will be all right?”

  “Oh! Does he need a room?” Mrs. Spivey asked. “I have rooms available.”

  “Ahh, Mr. Chamberlain had booked at another hotel before I realized he had come to town. I imagine he is firmly ensconced there. He will not be saying long at any rate.”

  Mrs. Spivey
nodded, though the heave of her chest indicated a sigh.

  “Oh, yes. The Empire Hotel, I imagine,” she said. “It’s very fancy.”

  “Is it?” Nathan said. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Amanda smiled encouragingly at Mrs. Spivey.

  “This is such a lovely hotel you have here, Mrs. Spivey.” She indicated the lobby with a sweep of her arm, ignoring the shabbiness of the furniture and décor.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Carpenter. My father left it to me when he passed away several years ago. I’m trying to make a go of it.”

  “We would be happy to recommend your hotel to anyone, Mrs. Spivey,” Nathan said. “I did not realize my friend was coming from Seattle, or I would have encouraged him to stay here. However, he is coming for dinner, and I am sure he will be glad that he did, given the wonderful breakfast you prepared for us this morning.”

  Bright red color stained Mrs. Spivey’s thin cheeks.

  “Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She looked back toward the kitchen. “Well, I’d better get back to cooking. I’ve always cooked here, but running the hotel is another thing.”

  She nodded and retreated toward the door at the back of the lobby.

  Nathan and Amanda climbed the stairs, pausing outside of Amanda’s door.

  “Poor thing,” Amanda murmured. “I feel sorry for her.”

  Nathan nodded. “Yes, I don’t think she can compete fairly with the settings of the Empire Hotel, nor can I imagine how she can afford to rejuvenate this hotel without an influx of cash.”

  “Unless Mr. Spivey is sitting on a pot of gold over there at the train station. He sort of reminds me of a leprechaun anyway.” Amanda grinned.

  Nathan responded with a chuckle. “That he does.”

  “Well, now that we’re here, I’m going to take a bath,” Amanda said. “I presume you’ll be available to do my hair?” Her smile broadened when Nathan blushed. “I’m just kidding,” she added. “I’m sure I can throw it on top of my head myself.”

  “I would welcome the opportunity to hone my hairdressing skills,” Nathan said. “One never knows when I will find myself lost in the twenty-first century and in need of employment.”

  Amanda laughed and turned away but paused with her hand on the door.

  “Oh, by the way, should I wear that dinner dress you bought me tonight? Or is that for more formal occasions, though I can’t imagine what.”

  “Yes, tonight would be a suitable time to wear your dress. Although Mrs. Spivey’s hotel lacks some of the refinement of the Empire Hotel, we may dress the part. I will dress as well.”

  An hour later, Amanda emerged from the bathroom, squeaky clean and in a good frame of mind. In the absence of a bathrobe, she had slipped on one of the nightgowns Mrs. Murphy had selected for her, and she sped down the hall to her room without being seen.

  She found herself actually looking forward to slipping into the dress Nathan had purchased for her, a peach concoction with frilly lace, though she could have done without the drawers, corset, chemise and petticoats that Mrs. Murphy had pressed upon her in private. Without revealing too much about herself or raising suspicion, Amanda could not tell Mrs. Murphy that she had no idea how to put the “white wear” on. She mourned the state of her bra and panties, now wet from a thorough cleansing in the sink. How long would they last? For that matter, how long would she last in 1906? She draped them over the radiator and turned to the box holding the underclothing.

  As she laid out the various garments on the bed, Amanda wondered if she really had to wear all of them. She glanced over her shoulder toward the door and turned back with a sigh. No, this was one area where Nathan couldn’t guide her. At the moment, she couldn’t wait to meet the other three women who had traveled from her time, although in truth, she was a bit leery of meeting them. She wasn’t sure she could understand women who had voluntarily chosen to remain in the past—without modern medicine, civil rights, electronics, the comforts of home. However, part of her did understand the draw to the men of the early twentieth century. Certainly, Nathan and Robert Chamberlain were charming, handsome, well dressed... Well, Nathan was well dressed now. Amanda smiled to herself. She suspected that between the two of them, they epitomized every woman’s dream of an early twentieth century man-about-town. Although her first impression of Nathan had been less than inspiring, he certainly had come alive in his own time.

  She turned back to the undergarments and picked up what she deduced to be the replacement for her panties. Mrs. Murphy had called them drawers as she had folded them into the box. Amanda slipped them on and tied them around her waist, feeling like a Southern belle in her drawers and crinolines. She slipped the chemise over her head and turned to eye the corset, an extravagant garment of white with pink ribbons which belied the hardness of the thing. Nope, she couldn’t do it. She grabbed the petticoat next and slid that over her drawers. No one was going to have their way with her, that was for sure. She was well and truly barricaded.

  She pulled open the box containing the dress and pulled it out. A beautiful confection of peach silk and lace, she slipped it over her head and shoulders, allowing the skirt to fall to her feet. She turned toward the mirror above the dresser though it showed only her face. Still unbuttoned, the dress slipped off her left shoulder, and Amanda reached for the back, unable to reach the buttons. She shook her head. In addition to doing her hair, Nathan would have to button her dress up the back.

  The idea hardly made her feel uncomfortable though. Although a more modern man might think she was trying to seduce him by asking him to button her dress or fix her hair, Nathan would not think that. At least, she hoped not. Other than the violence of their first encounter, he had adhered to some strong moral ethic or code in his treatment of her that left her feeling safe and protected. Though Nathan had held her against her will, the gentleness in his voice as he said “Amanda, Amanda! Stop. I will not harm you,” belied any suggestion that he would have hurt her.

  Amanda slid the shoulder of her dress back on, sat down on the chair to stick her feet into the new cream-colored satin shoes that Mrs. Murphy had produced with pride along with a pair of dark books for everyday wear. Amanda had hardly thought two pairs of shoes were necessary, given that she didn’t know how long she would stay in 1906, but Nathan had supported Mrs. Murphy in her quest to sell the shoes. They were a bit loose, but Amanda thought that wouldn’t be a problem for a few hours.

  Thinking she must surely be done, Amanda rose and peeked inside the bag to see what was left. Stockings! Mrs. Murphy had included several pairs of stockings with garter belts, reminiscent of those Amanda’s grandmother used to wear. She picked up her skirt and stared at her legs. Well, who was going to know if she wore stockings? She stuffed them back in the bag with the discarded corset and hid the bag by the side of the bed furthest from the door, as if Nathan was going to check and see if she’d worn all her issued clothing. The image made her grin.

  A tap on the door startled her, and she looked at herself quickly in the small mirror before opening the door. Her hair hung past her shoulders in an unruly mass of curls, and she had no comb to work through the mess.

  She opened the door with one hand to her hair and another holding the top of her dress up. Nathan stood in the hallway, stunning in a black dinner jacket and trousers, a high-collared white shirt, black vest and black bow tie. The sheen of his satin lapels was striking. His black shoes gleamed, and his well-groomed hair shone just as brightly as his shoes.

  “I hope that your expression of astonishment indicates you approve of my appearance?” Nathan said, appearing a little self-conscious. “You are a sight to behold, Amanda.”

  Amanda closed her mouth and blinked herself out of staring. “I do approve,” she breathed. “You look very fancy.”

  Nathan blushed yet again. “Thank you. As you know, Mrs. Murphy did not have formal coat and tails, but since we are simply dining at the hotel, I thought this clothing might be sufficient.”

  He frown
ed and peered at her. “Is something wrong? You are clutching your neck as if you feel unwell.”

  Amanda realized she had a death grip on the top of her dress. She chuckled and stepped back into the room.

  “Come in. I need help with my dress. How do women get into these things anyway? Don’t tell me they all have servants. I don’t believe it.”

  Nathan stepped in and shut the door. “Then I will not tell you that, although if a woman is affluent enough to wear a dinner gown such as that, she normally has a servant or other family members who can assist her. I will stand in for a family member.” He grinned. “Turn around.”

  Amanda did as she was told, and a shiver ran up her spine as she felt his hands on her back. She held her breath and relished his nearness as he stood close behind her.

  Amanda’s knees turned to rubber when she felt her hair lifted from her neck.

  “Could you hold your hair, please?” Nathan said in a husky voice.

  She took the hair from Nathan and almost willed him to bend his head and kiss the exposed skin. But his fingers continued their inexorable way up the neckline of her dress, and Nathan stepped back. Amanda dragged in a deep steadying breath and turned in his direction. If she had truly been engaged to him, and Robert seemed to confirm that fact, then she must have been the luckiest woman in the world.

  Warm brown eyes gazed at her steadily, and she lost the rhythm of her breath again.

  “Stop staring at me,” she whispered.

  Nathan shook his head. “I can’t.” He seemed to take a deep breath himself. “I don’t want to stop looking at you.”

  A thrill ran through Amanda’s body at his words, and she turned away to look into the mirror. Her cheeks flamed with color. Her hair was a riotous mess.

  “I can’t imagine wanting to look at me with this wild mop on my head. Can you do my hair, please? I don’t even have a comb or anything.”

  “But of course,” Nathan said. He cleared his throat. “I procured a comb from Mrs. Murphy. We failed to obtain a hairbrush for you. I will remedy that in the morning.”