by Bess McBride
He came to stand behind her and lifted her hair once again. Amanda met his eyes over her head in the mirror. The look of love on his face seemed to pull at her soul, and she thought she might drown under his gaze. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to his grooming—a gentle process in which he painstakingly combed out each curl.
Some time passed before Amanda spoke.
“This is taking a long time. Are we going to be late for dinner?”
“Yes, it is,” Nathan spoke in a quiet voice. “I don’t think I care.”
Amanda grinned. She didn’t care either. He could run his fingers through her hair all night, and she would have been happy.
“It feels wonderful,” she said, keeping her eyes closed.
“Yes,” he said. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and pulled her gently against him. “I need to comb the front of your hair. Just relax.” His deep voice spoke near her ear, sending chills up her spine. How on earth was she supposed to relax? The feel of his strong body against her own didn’t encourage relaxation.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Can’t what?” Nathan murmured. He combed the front of her hair with one hand and smoothed it back with the other. She felt “petted” as a cat must feel.
“Relax.”
“Just breathe,” he said. “As I am attempting to do.”
Amanda inhaled deeply. “I’m breathing.” The warmth of his body spread to her back.
“Good.” She thought she heard a lilt in his voice, as if he smiled.
She smiled.
More minutes passed.
“I think I am ready for that band of yours and the pins,” Nathan said softly.
Amanda opened her eyes. Her hair was combed smooth. She grabbed the rubber band and the pins from the nightstand and handed them to him but avoided meeting his gaze. The moment was too intimate, and she felt as if she might lose herself in him. In time. In 1906. That she might never look back at her old life again.
Nathan pulled her hair up loosely and wrapped it into the chignon, sticking several pins in at strategic points. While he concentrated on her hair, Amanda studied his face tenderly. It had happened; she had fallen in love with him. Who couldn’t? It was almost as if there had never been a question of it...or even a choice really. Knowing that she had fallen in love with Nathan once before made it that much easier to fall in love with him again. She regretted the loss of time...when she could now have been married to him. Had they not become separated, they would have been married almost a year.
Mrs. Nathan Carpenter. Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Carpenter.
She could have sworn she was one of those women who never intended to give up her maiden name, but the sound of Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Carpenter made her heart thump happily while sending warmth coursing through her body—a “relaxing” warmth, as if she were finally safe and secure...and home.
Should she tell him? Was she prepared to stay in the past? Just like that? With no thought to the consequences? Falling in love was definitely blinding her to the possible complications of living in 1906, of giving up the life that she knew. It wouldn’t be fair to say anything to Nathan until she was absolutely sure about what she wanted.
Nathan wrapped a last curl on her neck around the tip of his finger and looked up at her.
“Do I have a future?” he asked.
Amanda blinked, startled out of her reverie. “A future?” How had he known what she was thinking? What was she supposed to say? Or do? Throw herself into his arms? She turned to do just that when Nathan spoke again.
“As a women’s hairdresser,” Nathan said with a chuckle. “Do you think I have a future as a hairdresser should the need present itself?”
Amanda checked herself and locked her hands behind her back. She returned his smile though a corner of her mouth trembled.
“Oh! Oh, sure! Yes, you do.” She turned and faced the mirror once more as if to check his handiwork, which was lovely. The waves of her hair had been softly swept up to the crown of her head with curls pulled out at the sides and nape of her neck.
“I am pleased you approve,” Nathan said. “Shall we go down to dinner? Robert should arrive soon.” He held out his arm for her, and Amanda felt the moment to tell him she had fallen in love with him was lost. It was just as well, she thought as she took his arm. She needed more time to decide whether or not she could live in the early twentieth century. As wonderful as she felt with her hand tucked up against Nathan’s side, she had to stop fantasizing about a perfect life with the man she loved. Perfect would have been if he had been born in the twenty-first century...with all the traits he now possessed. She shook her head. No, he wouldn’t speak in his charmingly formal dialect, he wouldn’t wear his sensual sideburns to the bottom of his ears and he wouldn’t wear the high-necked white-starched collar that set off his strong jaw line to perfection. He wouldn’t be Nathan, the perfect early twentieth century man.
“You seem deep in thought, Amanda,” Nathan said in a low voice as they reached the head of the stairs. “Is all well?”
Amanda, her eyes on Nathan’s well-polished shoes, allowed her gaze to travel up the length of his immaculate dark slacks, past his double-breasted waistcoat and black bow tie to his striking face. No, Nathan would not be the same had he been born in the twenty-first century. She loved the twentieth century man.
“Yes, fine,” she said. “I was just thinking about the differences between your time and mine.”
Nathan nodded. “I find that some of the differences are immense, while others seem insignificant.”
“Insignificant?” Amanda asked. “I haven’t found any insignificant changes yet. The changes seem pretty enormous to me.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs just as Robert stepped into the brightly lit lobby. Mrs. Spivey had obviously brought out a few more lamps for the occasion.
“Robert,” Nathan greeted him. “Welcome to the River Hotel.” He shook Robert’s hand, and Robert inclined his head toward Amanda in something almost resembling a bow.
“You look lovely as always, Amanda.”
She eyed him with awe. He too looked resplendent in more formal attire—a dinner jacket and bow tie like Nathan. While Nathan’s jacket had satin lapels, Robert’s had velvet.
“I see you have brought proper dinner attire,” Nathan chuckled, “even while on an errand to rescue me from destitution.”
“I suspected we would dine in public,” Robert said with a smile. “And you know that I am always prepared for any eventuality.”
Nathan nodded with a broad grin. “Indeed I do. That is one of the things I admire about you the most, my friend.” He put an arm around Robert’s shoulder, not something that Amanda would have ever thought to do with the tall man, no matter how long she had known him. Of the two men, Robert was the more formal, but Nathan seemed to ignore his friend’s reserve. And Robert didn’t seem to object.
Mrs. Spivey hurried in from the kitchen and directed them to the dining room, now laid out with a white tablecloth and what Amanda suspected were her best dishes. An arrangement of orange, white and peach-colored dahlias presided over the center of the table.
“These are beautiful!” Amanda breathed as Nathan settled her into the seat at the head of the table. He took the seat to her right and Robert sat down on her left.
“From my garden in the back,” Mrs. Spivey said with bright cheeks and sparkling eyes. “This is from the last of the blooms. I have to dig the tubers up soon and store them in the root cellar for the winter.”
“They are truly magnificent, Mrs. Spivey. My compliments,” Nathan said as he studied the arrangement with obvious appreciation.
“Indeed. I only wish we could grow such beauties in Seattle, madam,” Robert said.
“Oh, well, the Wenatchee Valley has just the right weather and soil conditions for the dahlias.” She preened a bit as she looked at flowers. “Well, I had better get dinner on the table. I hope you don’t mind, but there are no menus. I just make o
ne meal for everyone.” She wiped her hands on her apron and scanned their faces. Seeing no protests, she nodded and hurried from the room.
Nathan turned to Robert as if he needed to say something. “Mrs. Spivey was left this hotel by her father and is attempting to run it herself. Her husband seems to stay busy at the train station.”
Robert nodded, unperturbed. “Yes, I do see that she has her hands full. Are there no other guests staying at the moment?”
Nathan shook his head. “No, I think she has workers staying during the growing season, but fortunately for us, she was quite empty when Amanda and I descended upon her and begged for free lodgings.” He looked at Amanda and chuckled. “Well, I begged. Amanda charmed. Mrs. Spivey has a warm heart.”
Robert looked at Amanda and smiled. “Ah, yes. I imagine that Amanda did charm. I find the women of the twenty-first century particularly skilled in this endeavor.”
Amanda blushed. At the moment, she felt more gauche than charming.
“I find myself wishing to say that I look forward to having you meet my wife, Ellie, and yet you and Ellie were already very close friends when you...left.” Robert gave a slight shake of his head. “She has missed you very much.”
Amanda bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I wish I could remember her.”
“You cannot possibly remember Ellie, Amanda,” Nathan said, “because at this point in time, you have never met her. Robert understands that.”
Robert nodded. “I do, although it does require my concentration, almost as a mathematical problem might.” He smiled wryly.
“I’m so glad you all are better at higher math than me,” Amanda said with a lift of her lips, “because I don’t get it at all.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of Mrs. Spivey with a soup dish that she referred to as the first course. The soup was delicious.
“She is an excellent cook, isn’t she?” Amanda murmured. She reached for a slice of warm homemade bread. If the food was anything to go by, she felt she could happily stay in 1906. If she could avoid all the foodborne diseases rampant in a pre-pasteurized society, that is. Family history held that Amanda’s great-grandmother and several of her children had died of typhoid fever after eating tainted ice cream. She eyed the creamed tomato soup and set her spoon down with the thought that she was going to starve unless she ate apples all day long.
Chapter Ten
Nathan watched as Amanda set her spoon down and eyed her bowl warily. As if he were experiencing déjà vu, he knew what she was thinking.
“Is something wrong with the soup, Amanda?” Nathan asked.
She looked up from her scrutiny of her bowl and shook her head with a wan smile.
“I’m just not hungry, I guess.” Her statement belied her earlier comments of being hungry.
“You are worried about the safety of the food,” he said with a knowing glance in Robert’s direction.
Amanda looked up, startled.
“You expressed the same concerns before,” he said with a gentle smile. “And they are valid concerns.”
“My great-grandmother died of typhoid fever,” Amanda began.
“Yes, I know,” Nathan said. “You told me before. It is a real danger in our time. However, I checked with Mrs. Spivey this morning, and she told me she keeps her foods well chilled in an icebox in the root cellar, and she boils the milk before using it. I think you may safely eat the food.”
Robert watched her sympathetically. “Ellie had many of the same concerns and still does. She daily awaits some invention known as a refrigerator.”
Nathan nodded. “I have used a refrigerator,” he said with grin. “A superior invention, but it will not be safe for use for many years. At present, there is a model available, but it uses poisonous gasses which are toxic to both humans and the environment.”
“I shall have to tell Ellie. I do not think she was aware of that,” Robert said. “It seems you learned a great deal during your sojourn in the twenty-first century.”
Nathan nodded with a sigh. “The public library was a source of great comfort and information. It is warm in the winter and cool in the summer.”
“But I thought you said you stayed in a shelter,” Amanda said. She imagined him huddled up next to a heating grate by a public building as she had seen homeless people do in Washington, D.C. when she was on a high-school trip.
“Most shelters do not allow single men to stay inside during the day but provide beds for the night. As I mentioned before, I used their services on occasional nights during the winter, but I spent most nights at the train station,” Nathan said. He smiled but the smile did not reach his eyes.
Robert tisked and shook his head in sympathy. Amanda blinked back moisture that sprung to her eyes. She loved him too much to know that he had suffered.
“When I was not at the train station,” Nathan continued, “I sought the pleasure of reading books—many, many books. Only once did I indulge in the extravagance of attending a theater for a ‘film’ or ‘movie’ as I heard it referred to—some historical romantic film regarding time travel, a coin, and a wonderful hotel on Mackinac Island in Michigan. I had seen an advertisement for it, and I hoped the production would shed some light on my situation, but although I found the story to be a charming tale, there was nothing in it that was helpful to me.”
“In returning to your time?” Amanda asked.
“In finding you, and then returning to my time.”
Amanda drew in a sharp breath.
“But if it had been a matter of a coin or something, you would have returned anyway, wouldn’t you? Without me, right?”
Nathan shook his head, and Robert nodded as if he knew the answer.
“No, Amanda. I would not. I had every intention of staying until I found you. I wasn’t going to leave.”
“That is what I would have expected of you,” Robert said.
“At any rate, the movie was decidedly romantic, but a fictional tale of time travel. I cannot tell you both how many times I repeated the mantra, ‘Amanda is with me,’ ‘Amanda is with me,’ ‘Amanda is with me,’ to no avail.” He smiled to belie the sound of desolation that crept into his voice. “It would have been more effective to repeat ‘I will see Amanda again one day.’ ”
Amanda’s cheeks brightened, and she gave him a tremulous smile. Nathan bit his tongue. It was not his intent to repeatedly bemoan the past year of his life. Amanda was with him now, and he had returned home. He was warm, well fed, well clothed, and in the company of a good friend. There was no need to sound so pitiful.
“But enough of that,” he said brightly. “We are here now, and the food is delicious. I simply cannot understand why Mrs. Spivey is not filling her dining room with patrons.”
They finished the meal, and complimented Mrs. Spivey on the food. Robert rose to return to his hotel.
“Will you see us off on the sternwheeler in the morning?” Nathan asked. He held up a hand as Robert opened his mouth. “Yes, I know. I promise to return to Seattle as soon as we are back.”
“Yes, I will be there,” Robert said. “And I will hold you to that promise. “As it is, I hesitate to return to Seattle without you in tow. Ellie will not be pleased. She longs to see you both.”
Robert bid them goodnight and left. Nathan turned to Amanda.
“I suppose we ought to make an early night of it. The boat leaves first thing in the morning.”
Amanda nodded. “I’m exhausted anyway and ready for bed,” she said. She turned toward the stairs, and Nathan raced to take her arm in his. She smiled up at him, and his heart melted...as it always did when she looked at him in just that way.
Nathan drew in a sharp breath. When she looked at him in just that way. The expression on her face was one that he had longed to see for the past year. It was a look of love, the same look she had favored him with when they were engaged. Did she love him again? Would she tell him so?
They reached the top of the stairs and paused before Amanda’s room. Nathan hesitate
d before saying goodnight. Would she speak? He stared into her eyes, willing her to say something.
“Nathan,” she began.
He waited, barely holding his breath. Had his dreams come true? For the second time in his life? An end to his loneliness?
“I’m worried about this sternwheeler trip,” Amanda said. “This is just a whim of mine, and your grandfather—and Ellie—would want to see you. Maybe we can come back another time...you know...if I’m still here.”
Nathan’s throat closed. If I’m still here.
“I understand your concerns,” he said in a thick voice, “but I think we should go on the sternwheeler before we return to Seattle. Who knows what the future holds? As you say, you may not remain.” He forced a smile to his face. “I am in debt to you for bringing me back to my time, and I promised you that we should go. I try never to break my promises.”
Amanda’s eyes widened. “Never?”
Nathan shook his head. “Never. Not even when I said I would love you for the rest of my life.” Afraid he might pull her into his arms, he clasped his hands behind his back and bowed slightly at the waist. “Good night, Amanda.” He turned and entered his room, there to sit on the bed and stare into the dark sky outside with an ache in his chest that he thought nothing could relieve.
****
Morning came, and with it, a small measure of hope as he remembered the expression on Amanda’s face the night before—an expression reminiscent of the looks of affection she had shown in the past. In the dark, he had made too much of her comment “if I’m still here.” As emotional as an infant, he had wanted to cry himself to sleep but had instead stared out of the window for hours, morose and full of self-pity. The darkness of the night reminded him of the hundreds of nights he had waited at the train station. And ultimately, Amanda had come.
He bathed, dressed, and knocked on Amanda’s door. She opened it, her hair wet from washing it. The fresh scent of lemons lingered in the air. Mrs. Spivey’s hair tonic.