Chase nodded, his chest tightening at her words. He never knew that Hunter had felt that way. Maybe they both had pushed themselves into holes they didn’t necessarily want to be in. That was something to think about.
“I still don’t think you going wherever you are is because of being unhappy, but I believe your happiness is now firmly before you,” he continued to read. “All you have to do is grasp the opportunity God has presented to you without faltering. If you happen to land after 2018, I would like you to look up Chase. I’ve included his contact information at the bottom, along with another buddy of mine that can help you. Chase is often off gallivanting the globe, but he is a solid guy, someone you can trust beyond a doubt. He will help you, not because of me, but because he has an amazing heart, one I wish I had more of. If you can find him, would you pass along this letter to him, let him know I’ve found a happiness here I never imagined possible? I miss him like crazy, even after almost two years. I still think about him every day, praying that God gives Chase peace in my disappearance. I’m praying for you Bea. Know that in our life, we never stopped praying for you. Love, Hunter.”
Chase slowly lowered the letter into his lap. He never realized Hunter thought so much of him. Always figured Hunter thought of him as his goof-off little brother, never serious about anything. He glanced over at Beatrice who wiped her moist cheeks on his sweatshirt’s sleeve, her mouth trembling into a smile. Well, he was serious now. He would live up to Hunter’s claim and be the man she could trust, with everything in him.
“I guess I found you.” Her eyes held his, begging him to honor his brother’s wishes.
“You found me, alright.” He hoped his eyes communicated the words on his heart. “I’ll help you Beatrice, however I can. I promise you can count on me.”
“I know.” She stared at him, trust evident in her open expression. “I think I’m ready to take a nap.”
He nodded. “I’ll be here.”
Her lips lifted slightly as she hunkered down onto the couch’s arm. She pulled her hands into the sleeves, bunching her arms under her chin and sighed. How she could look so peaceful when her life had been ripped from all she knew was beyond him. Chase hoped her peace continued. That he could find the same peace, because he was reeling, and he wasn’t sure how to stay on solid ground.
Chapter 6
Chase,
Hey, bud. This is going to sound crazy. Believe me, at first I thought I’d somehow landed in a real-life society from that movie, The Village. But as crazy as this whole time-travel thing is, wondering how God could believe me worthy of such a miracle, I’m so glad he did. Viola is the one I waited for all those years, taking ribs from the boys in the Unit and urgings from you. I can’t imagine life without her. And now we have our baby boy, Chase. He’s as rambunctious as you, which makes me wonder if we should’ve named him something calmer, like Gandhi.
Chase, I know I may not have expressed this very well when I was there, but I wanted you to know that I’m proud of the man you’ve become. You bring life and adventure to those around you, challenging them to stretch their beliefs in what one can do. I know you had a rough time of it after Mom and Dad died, that I wasn’t there for you like I should’ve been. I guess I didn’t know how to handle your grief on top of mine. I miss you, man, every single day.
Can I ask you a favor? Take care of Beatrice, help her adjust to life there. It’s completely different than what she is used to, and I’m worried the shock of it all will be jarring for her. She acts tough, and she is, don’t get me wrong. She could kick your hide easily, but she’s also vulnerable, keeping her emotions tucked safely inside. She’s going to need someone she can trust, and I know that person is you.
Love you man,
Hunter
Beatrice awoke to a soft snore sounding close. She was encased in a bed so fluffy it couldn’t be stuffed with straw. She peeled one eye open, the other squinting with a tender pain that radiated through her head. The memory of finding herself in the future hit strong and fast, stealing the breath from her lungs. She glanced to where the snore sounded and found Chase sleeping awkwardly with his feet propped up on the low table, his hand behind his head. His presence comforted her. She didn’t understand it. She’d travelled the wilderness of Colorado on her own. Stayed alone for months at a time in the cabin her father had built while Hunter and Viola went traveling. However, the man at the end of the couch gave her spirit. a warmth like the sweatshirt she was wrapped in. Warmth and a sense of belonging, which was odd since she just met the man. She didn’t know where she belonged now.
Beatrice stood up quietly, knowing if she sat a second longer she’d fall to pieces. She walked toward where Chase had gotten the food, wanting to avoid the hall of memories she had no part of. Her feet froze in the doorway. The plethora of shiny objects caused her eyes to widen in awe and slightly in fear. If a mere kitchen had advanced this much, how was she to ever find her way? She moved to the sink, recognizing the shape and the similarity in the knobs in the washroom. She found a mug hanging on a peg on the wall, took it off, and got herself water, gulping the entire mug at once.
Beatrice turned to the daunting room and started rifling through cabinets and opening shining large objects. She gasped when she pulled a door on a tall box and a light turned on and cold blasted her face. More fresh food than she’d ever seen sat on shelves and in the door. She grabbed a strawberry, not believing Chase had fresh strawberries in late September. Could she have landed in the summer instead of the fall? She shrugged. When she landed didn’t really matter. She was here now, nothing she could do about which season it happened to be. She took a bite of the berry, her teeth hurting from the cold and the tangy sweetness dancing upon her tongue. She grabbed another one before closing the door and continuing her perusal.
Beatrice moved to a door opposite from where she’d entered. She walked into what appeared to be a large pantry with a door heading out the opposite wall. Her heart quickened in her chest and she rushed to the opposite wall, throwing the door open. A soft cry escaped her as the faint, familiar smell of medicinal herbs mingled with the newer scent of leather and clothing that hung on the walls. Orlando’s cabin reduced to storage. She leaned against the whitewashed log wall for support, sliding down to the floor when her knees gave out.
Beatrice cried as the reality of never seeing her family, never holding her nieces and nephews, crashed over her. She would never get exasperated when Orlando called her Little Bit or laugh as she watched Viola blush ridiculously at Hunter’s flirting. They were gone, dead years past. Yet here she was, firmly on her own just like she’d desired, and all she wanted was to get back to where she left. She snorted a bitter laugh, curled into a ball, and sobbed until exhaustion overtook her.
Chase jerked up with a start, his eyes going to the empty opposite end of the couch. Beatrice. He stood and rushed to the bathroom. Finding it empty, he hurried to the kitchen. Empty. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, and his stomach threatened to spill the Mexican dinner on the floor. Lord, where can she be?
Chase turned to go out the front to see if she was in the yard when his gaze stalled on the pantry door that was slightly open. He hurried across the kitchen, yanking the door open, and practically running through the opposite door that led to the mudroom.
“Beatrice!” he yelled as he opened the door to outside.
A whimper from inside caught his attention. He turned sharply, shutting the door, and scanning the room in the moonlight that shone through the window. Movement drew his eyes to Beatrice, her knees pulled up to her chest where she lay in fetal position on the floor. He closed the distance between them in two steps and dropped to the ground, pulling her to his lap.
“What’s wrong?” He mentally slapped himself on the head for those thoughtless words.
What’s wrong? Everything was wrong for her. His life felt as if the rug had just been yanked out from under him, and he wasn’t the one who just Dr. Who’d it through time. He’d have to re
member to think through his questions before he opened his big mouth.
“I … it’s just … this was Orlando’s house.” She sobbed, clutching his shirtsleeve in her hands.
Chase’s heart bottomed out. Who was Orlando, her fiancé? Her husband? And more importantly, why did it matter so much to Chase?
She sniffed. “My brother, he was a healer. Always had medicinal herbs hanging from the rafters. Do you smell them?”
She pulled back and gazed into Chase’s eyes, her face full of question and hurt. The relief he felt at hearing Orlando was her brother was overshadowed by her intense sorrow. He took a deep breath through the nose, faintly smelling a floral undertone that must be infused into the cabin logs.
He brushed his hand through her hair and nodded. “Yeah, I smell it.”
Her face took on a vacant expression as she gazed around the little room. “I always wanted to leave, always dreamed of traveling around the world, being where people were.” She snorted a laugh that sounded self-deprecating. “Well, here I am, probably closer to more people than I ever have been in my entire life. Yet then I stumbled into this room that once held half my life, and now it holds muddy boots and old harnesses. I … I—”
“We can clean it out if you want.”
“It’s not that, I just … I just realized they’re all dead, years ago. Even their children are dead.” Her words cut into his heart. He guessed on a certain level, he’d known Hunter had died, but with Beatrice’s arrival, Chase had somehow skipped over that fact. “I’ll never cradle baby Chase in my arms again, never know Orlando’s children. How could I be so stupid to think I’d be happier somewhere away from my heart?”
“I’m so sorry,” Chase whispered as she buried her face into his chest, the sobs wracking her body in violent shakes.
Tears of grief escaped his eyes. He always knew finding Hunter alive was a pipe dream, yet he naively hoped he would. The belief that had held on with tenuous roots shriveled to dust. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his body from shuddering as hope left, trailing down his cheeks and dripping into Beatrice’s hair.
She pulled back slightly, searching his face. Though his pride roared to wipe the tears and hide the grief, he knew she needed to know she wasn’t alone in her sadness. The tears on her cheeks glittered in the pale light straining through the window. In all his travels, he’d never seen anyone as exquisite as Beatrice.
She reached up, her small hands caressing his tears away. “I’m sorry. I guess you’ve lost as well.”
He leaned his cheek into her hand, the touch bringing comfort. “Nothing compared to what you’ve lost, but, yeah, I guess I always figured I’d find him alive.”
She dropped her hand and fiddled with the long sleeve of his sweatshirt. She peeked up, a small, sad smile on her face. “I don’t know, Chase. I think you did find him alive. He didn’t die here in this time in that accident. God saved him, giving him a life he absolutely loved, with a family he adored beyond anything. Chase, I think you found him very much alive.”
He stared down into his hands, thinking about her words. Is that what he’d found? He had to admit it was a relief to know Hunter hadn’t been dragged away by some animal, lost forever to the wilderness. Hunter’s words in his letter to Chase rushed back to him.
He chuckled softly, realizing she was right. He had found Hunter alive, just one hundred and forty years too late. He hoped there would be more letters for him in that chest. Hoped he’d learn more about Hunter’s life.
Chase stood and reached out his hand. “Come on, Beatrice. Let’s get off this cold floor and go get some sleep. There’s still a lot of night left.”
She placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her up as she shook her head. “I don’t know if I can sleep.”
“Then I think tonight is the perfect time to introduce you to your second modern amenity.” He threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her through the pantry.
“What’s that?” she asked on bated breath.
He squeezed her fingers. “A movie marathon.”
“Movie marathon?” she whispered, equal parts awe and trepidation in her voice as her hand tightened in his.
Chase smiled as he grabbed the microwave popcorn from the shelf as they passed through the pantry. Beatrice was going to have a mountain to learn if she wanted to adjust to this time. Hunter was right. She was going to need someone, and that person would be him.
Chapter 7
December 25, 1879
Beatrice, I’m so excited to tell you that I’m expecting. We are so thrilled, though I wish you were here. I know it’s selfish to think, but it’s true. The possibility of only having Hunter here for the birth makes me a little nervous. I know Hunter did just fine last time, but it was such a comfort having you there. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t even write such things, but it’s true. I pray every day for you, and I want you to know that though I miss you each day, God is giving me peace about you being gone. I pray you are finding peace as well. Merry Christmas, Viola
Beatrice yawned as she rode Storm through the woods that looked familiar, but were so different at the same time. She and Chase had stayed up much too late watching a series of movies called The Hobbit. He had explained how the movies were created from a book written in the early 1900’s. She didn’t understand how it all worked, but the moving pictures had fascinated her. She’d sat enthralled with the stories as they played upon the window, like a play she’d seen once in Chicago, but much more life-like.
Her eyelids had finally succumbed to the heaviness she’d fought through most of the movies. She remembered a dragon in a room of gold, then a rooster crowing. She had opened her eyes, stretched the kink from her neck, and chuckled as Chase had muttered something about butchering an annoying rooster. She smiled at the memory, her feet cradled in his lap where he had slept slouched over on the opposite side of the couch. She’d been mortified that they’d not only slept in the same room, but on the same couch, no less. He must have noticed her discomfort as she’d pulled her feet under her.
“Sorry, Bea,” he had said with a shrug. “I must’ve dozed off. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He’d left to make coffee, and she’d sat there, wondering at the realization that she was comforted, not uncomfortable. He’d come back into the room much too fast for coffee to be brewed with two mugs steaming in his hands and a smile on his handsome face. After handing her one, he’d scooped up the clothes from the chest and shown her upstairs to what would be her part of the house, off limits to him, unless he was needed. His thoughtfulness and understanding of her way of life warmed her heart.
She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep in her first vehicle ride. Chase had explained they would take the truck and trailer as far as they could. It would turn the trip that would have taken her two days of hard riding to make from Orlando’s cabin to the one she shared with Viola and Hunter to something that could be done in half a day. The ride had been exciting at first, especially when they drove on the road from Chase’s home. They were able to drive so fast. It amazed her that she had travelled at thirty-five miles per hour. The trains she’d ridden on in her time didn’t even travel that fast. But as the two hour drive had continued, the bumps of the dirt road had rocked her to sleep. She’d woken up confused and disappointed. Chase had laughed hard, the sound doing strange things with her belly, and promised he’d take her on as many drives as she wanted.
She glanced back at where he followed. He surveyed the trees around them, scanning the limbs, his shoulders tense. While he wasn’t flailing around on the horse like a greenhorn, he sat rigid, not flowing with the horse’s movements.
“Relax, Chase,” Beatrice called back to him. “Flow with your animal. Stop fighting her.”
“Easier said than done, my fair horse whisperer.” He gave an amused shake of his head. “How you got that cranky horse to let you ride without a fight amazes me. He fights me every single time.”
“He�
�s just a big baby, aren’t you boy?” She rubbed Storm’s neck in affection.
The horse looked so much like her Firestorm she’d almost broken down into tears at the sight of him. He even had the same feisty attitude she’d admired. Instead of letting the emotion smother her, she decided to thank God and see it as the blessing that it was.
“Big baby? A big baby that takes chunks out of legs and steals hats,” Chase scoffed.
She laughed, giving Storm another love pat. “So why do you keep scanning the trees like they are going to drop and land on you?”
“Our great-grandniece, Vicky, has a book back at the ranch by a man named Tommy Thomas titled The Early Days of Sweetwater. He talks about walking home one day and a mountain lion jumped on his back.” He laughed ruefully. “I’m not going to lie. That slightly terrified me, especially with the increased lion activity all the towns in the area have been having. I keep waiting for one to pounce.”
She turned just in time to see him shudder. She pulled back on the reins, slowing until they walked side by side. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, reveling in the warmth that soaked into her skin. She opened one eye and peeked at him, her lips lifting into a smile.
“A lion landed on Samara’s back about four weeks after she’d arrived back in my time.”
“No!” Chase’s mouth gaped open in a look of horror.
Her smile widened as she opened both eyes and nodded. “Yep. Would’ve sunk its teeth into her skull if she hadn’t been carrying her dulcimer case on her back.”
“Man, I’m so glad you came here instead of me going there.” He shivered again. “I’m not sure I’d do well there, what with all the horses and wild animals, though I guess we have bears and lions here too. It just seems much more … wild back then.”
Vestige of Courage Page 5