He was probably downstairs right now, dancing Lycinda around the floor, smiling and laughing, while Jaci cried inside. Why did she feel jealous? It wasn’t as though she had any claim to the handsome man.
Her stomach rolled and her head pounded with conflicting and mismatched thoughts and emotions. She rushed behind the privacy screen and dropped to her knees, retching into the chamber pot. She hated herself for being weak; hated this century for all the inconveniences like the lack of modern plumbing and having to wear so many clothes that her stomach ached by the end of the day.
She sobbed as she tore at her clothes, wanting to be shed of anything that reminded her she didn’t belong here, even as she secretly wished she did belong. She longed for the right to fight for Nicholas and show him how she felt.
She had teased him tonight; bantered with him on a sexual plane which men and women used in courting. He had responded, too, as she knew he would. Yet, as always, he held something back. He spoke of patience and desire in the same breath, which only confused her.
Stripped naked, she crawled into her bed, pulling the coverlet under her chin and feeling miserably sorry for herself. The practical, down to earth side of her that always ruled kept saying to make the best of her situation. There was little she could do about getting back to her own world.
Battling that practical side, however, was a new emotional core and it had created a different ache and need inside. For years, she had kept her emotions buried deep, for she didn’t want to experience again the hurt or pain she had felt at her parents’ deaths. Now, she knew her emotions hadn’t departed, but she wondered if she really wanted them functioning again.
During most of her adult life, she had held to the convention that if she couldn’t photograph something, it didn’t exist. That maxim had kept her from feeling disappointment when her various romantic flings had fallen by the wayside; when boyfriends had disappeared and stopped calling. She kept telling herself love didn’t exist. Now, even as she repeated the mantra, she recognized it for what it was — an attempt at self-preservation.
Her mother had loved her husband and her children. But Jaci’s father hadn’t loved them; he had merely tolerated them. In the end, her mother’s love hadn’t been enough to stop him from drinking, or from driving the car off a cliff. At that time, when she was eighteen, Jaci had sworn an oath not to love because it meant being dependent on another human being for happiness and in the end, like her mother, she would only be hurt. It had taken a trip to another century for her to realize she needed love and acceptance in her life. She needed to be pampered and held and cared for, instead of always being the one to do the caring. And now that she realized it, the ache was all the more real to know that she couldn’t have any of it.
* * *
The Wildwood Ball had been the first in what began an entire stream of holiday parties. Because of the distance into town, Amanda and Jaci didn’t accompany Nicholas, and many times, he didn’t return until the next day.
She knew without being told that propriety dictated his moves in town and it wouldn’t have been proper for him to take her. Besides, she was certain he kept Lycinda Edwardson company during those long, cold nights in the city.
Today, however, he had informed her at breakfast that she would accompany him into town to finish whatever shopping she had for Christmas, and to help him with his. Now, bundled up in wool and covered with fur lap robes with warming bricks at her feet, she silently sat across from him. The carriage wheels crunched on the snow as the driver kept the horses trotting at a good clip.
It had surprised her that the snow didn’t stop the activity around Wildwood. For some reason, she had assumed everything would come to a stand-still without snow removal equipment. Such was not the case, and the number of trips into town by Nicholas and his people had created a fairly packed road. Of course, there were other residences further west, and some closer to the city than Wildwood. All had access to the same main road.
She studied the man across from her as he gazed out the windows. He looked tired. Each time he blinked, his eyes drooped a little more. She smiled. Some things never changed, regardless in which century you lived. Too many parties apparently were taking their toll.
“Why don’t you live in Philadelphia, as Mr. Edwardson suggested, and leave the horse training to your managers? It would be educationally advantageous for Amanda, and so much more convenient for your business.” She blushed when she realized how her comment must sound.
He turned his gaze from the passing scenery back to her and his eyes twinkled with laughter. Even so, the creases on his handsome face were deep, and she longed to soothe them away. “It is only during this hectic time of the year that the ride becomes interminable; and some of that is of my own making. Besides, I wouldn’t choose to live in such a crowded metropolis, nor would I subject Amanda to that rabble as she grows up.”
Crowded; rabble? Jaci almost laughed outright. What in heaven’s name would he think of Philly in the twenty-first century?
The carriage came to a stop in town. Nicholas hesitated when she requested he drop her off alone.
“I’m only going to the few shops along this street,” she pointed, “and they’re right across from the City Tavern. I’ll meet you there at noon. Besides, I have things to buy which I don’t need you to see.”
“Still, a lady shouldn’t parade around town unescorted.”
“It’s broad daylight, Nicholas.” She stepped out of the carriage and lifted the hood of her cloak. “I’ll see you in an hour.” Stepping up on the boardwalk, she waited until the carriage rolled out of sight.
Actually, she didn’t have any shopping to do, but enjoyed strolling down the sidewalk, peeking in the windows. Since it wasn’t her responsibility to maintain supplies at the estate, she rarely came into town. Life at Wildwood was pretty self-contained. Given the fact all the employees also lived right there, it was rare when she considered herself alone.
She enjoyed the company of the employees, Amanda and Nicholas, but every once in a while, she craved solitude. As a freelance photographer, she’d go to work alone, listen to the radio station she chose, and many times spend the entire day by herself. And that was just fine; most of the time. So, even though walking down the streets in 1874 Philadelphia might not qualify for being alone, it was as close as she could get for now.
* * *
Later, as she and Nicholas finished their meal of the most delicious chicken pie Jaci had ever tasted, Gustav Dentzel entered City Tavern. Nicholas waved him over to join them for a mug of hot cider.
“You remember Miss Eastman?” Nicholas asked by way of reintroducing her.
“Guten Tag, Nicholas, und die schönes Fraülein mit goldene Haare.” He nodded and smiled at her.
“Hello. I’m sorry, but I don’t speak German.”
Nicholas interpreted. “He said good day to me and the woman with noodles for brains.”
Her mouth dropped open, her gaze shifting between the men. Mr. Dentzel looked somewhat confused, but Nicholas began to laugh.
“I must learn to speak the English better,” Mr. Dentzel stammered. “I do not think young Nicholas told you truth.”
It occurred to her that Nicholas was teasing, which was a surprise, given his propensity to be rather somber. She patted the older man’s hand, knowing that what she was about to say would have Nicholas guessing at her background again.
“That’s quite alright, Mr. Dentzel. There is a story from Kansas where a scarecrow had only straw for brains, and the Wizard still granted him a wish.”
As she expected, Nicholas immediately snatched the bait. “What scarecrow? I thought you said you came from Dallas?”
She casually sipped her cider, remarking to the wood carver how good it tasted on a cold day. When she glanced over at Nicholas, she merely batted her eyes and gave him a slight smile. Noodles for brains — I think not.
* * *
Nicholas promised Gustav that he would stop by presently to p
ick up Amanda’s chest, so it was a surprise when the carriage stopped before a stately home on the other side of town.
“Don’t we have to stop at Mr. Dentzel’s?” She questioned as he handed her down from the carriage.
“I promised some friends that I would make an appearance at a recital this afternoon. Since misery loves company, I brought you along.” He grinned at her and Jaci knew she had been had.
“You’re very good at this game, you know.” She issued the back-handed compliment as they walked up the steps.
“Ah, but it pleases me to know that you are learning. Very fast comeback at the Tavern; very fast.” He chuckled and she shook her head, his infectious humor seeping into her.
Jaci actually enjoyed the afternoon. Nancy Schaffer was a wonderful hostess, and spent considerable time introducing Jaci to everyone as “a dear friend”, instead of “the governess”, or worse yet, “Nicholas’s employee.” She wasn’t sure what Nancy knew about her relationship at Wildwood, but she appreciated her tact.
Somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, she realized Nicholas wasn’t in the room. When she asked about him, Nancy waved away her concern.
“I have no doubt several of the men have disappeared, either to another room for some cards, or out of the house entirely. I’m sure my own dear Michael would have done the same, if he weren’t already at court.”
She continued, “As much as I would like to instill some culture into this backward city in which we live, it appears I have little luck in that direction. You must, however, have Nicholas take you to the Academy of Music, our opera house. They do the most delightful performances.” Nancy left her to visit with other guests, and Jaci contented herself to wander around the room admiring the art.
Later, she stood by the parlor window, staring out at the lengthening shadows. Nicholas still hadn’t appeared to claim her when Mrs. Schaffer returned from seeing the last of her guests out the door.
“It was a marvelous recital.” Jaci felt she should make conversation.
“Come, dear, sit by the fire. Yes, Jenny does have a wonderful voice. She wants to study music next year, but I’m afraid her father may try to marry her off.” The older woman gestured to a seat by the fire, giving a small silver bell a ring.
While she ordered tea from the maid, Jaci studied her host a little closer. She was soft spoken and unassuming. Her sparkling eyes seemed to know more than she was telling. Jaci had grown accustom to the clothes and the speech of this period, but still felt awkward at times, and hoped she hadn’t given away some hint that she didn’t belong.
“Who won the election — Reagan or Carter?”
“Reagan, by a landslide,” Jaci responded automatically, then gasped. Her gaze darted around the room, her heart pounded, as though police would suddenly appear out of the woodwork to arrest her for being a fraud. “Dear God, you know. How?” A hundred questions raced through her mind as the other woman sat there and smiled.
“Mrs. Schaffer?”
“Please, call me Nancy.”
“Nancy, it is so good to have someone to talk to; to be myself, if only for a few minutes, without saying something untowards. But, how did you know I was from...later?” She finished in a whisper after a maid poured tea.
Nancy sipped her tea before answering. Jaci’s hands were shaking too badly to pick up the porcelain cup.
“You have that panicky look. I still remember it, even though it’s been ten years or more. And, you walk as though you have on Levi’s.”
It suddenly dawned on Jaci that if Nancy knew she was from another century, then Nancy, herself, must be a time traveler.
“Why?” The single word spoke volumes.
“It’s my understanding from others with whom I’ve spoken, that, while it doesn’t have to be catastrophic, there is always a reason for us to be here.”
“Us? You mean there are others?”
She smiled. “A few. You see, it seems there is a need for some to cross time to find that one person with whom they belong.”
Jaci thought of Nicholas; his arrogant manner and chauvinistic attitude, and the fact that he was to marry. He couldn’t possibly be the reason she had come back. She voiced her opinion.
“Your reason may not be apparent yet, but there will be one,” Nancy Schaffer assured her.
Jaci said, “Perhaps I was sent to help prevent a war or something. I’m not at all good at history. I—”
“We are definitely not here to change history, except on a very personal level. Did you know you’ll have a chance to return to your own time?”
Jaci’s stomach lurched. “Did you?”
Nancy’s smile was radiant this time. “Oh, yes, but by that time, Michael was so attached to me, I couldn’t possibly leave him.” Her eyes revealed her love, and when Jaci turned, she found Michael Schaffer just entering the room.
She knew her time was limited. “What can I do? How will I know?” She wanted to know when she would go back, the sooner the better, before she fell too deep to get out.
Nancy lowered her voice. “It’s not something we can speak of openly. You will know. I wish you luck. Perhaps I will see you again, after we return from England.”
Their privacy was gone as Michael Schaffer stopped at his wife’s side. He nodded slightly at Jaci, then immediately turned to his wife, his gaze softening. Nancy stood and glided into his embrace with no thought to any other presence in the room.
“Did it go well in court?” she asked as she smoothed his suit collar down.
“No. It looks as though we’ll lose, so we’ll have to appeal.”
“And the brief; how is it coming?”
“Slow.” As he spoke, his hand dropped casually to her waist to draw her closer.
“Is Frederick the only one working on it?”
“Yes, well—” He cleared his throat and Jaci wondered if it were some secret he didn’t dare discuss in front of her.
“Oh, dear. “ As though just recalling her presence, Nancy turned. “I’d like you to meet someone.”
Michael was a lawyer, Jaci realized from their conversation. As Nancy formally introduced them, she thought she would dislike having him for an adversary in a court of law. He was about Nicholas’s size, but he had a presence about him that intimidated her. Formidable was the word that came to mind. Thick brows bunched over piercing blue eyes as he acknowledged his wife’s introduction, and Jaci felt he saw right through her fraudulent shell.
His face transformed, however, when his gaze went back to Nancy, and Jaci felt their love as a tangible presence in the room. She had never been interested in photographing people, but this once she wished she had her camera to try to capture their essence.
She turned, anxious to leave. She wasn’t the least comfortable intruding on the intimacy they shared. Besides, she needed time to digest the recent discoveries Nancy had shared with her.
Fortunately, Nicholas entered the room at that moment, carrying her wrap. She looked at him with different eyes. Was he the reason she had traversed time? Nicholas, the most self-sufficient, independent, and responsible person she had ever met? Somehow she doubted it.
Michael and Nancy Schaffer walked them to the door, wishing them a happy holiday, and promising to visit Wildwood when they returned from England, which was Michael’s original home.
Jaci felt a moment of panic. After all, she had only learned she was not alone in this complicated world, and now Nancy was leaving. She squeezed the other woman’s offered hand and whispered, “Call me.”
* * *
“Call me?” Michael repeated as the carriage rolled out of sight. He bent his gray head to kiss his darling wife’s ear. “Don’t tell me she’s one, too?”
“I’m afraid so,” Nancy sighed.
“Does Nicholas know about her problem?”
“Not yet.”
“I’d better warn him. I doubt he has the same agreeable disposition as I do to handle it.” Michael pulled his wife back into the house and shut the
door.
“Yes, as I recall, you handled things quite well. You only carried on about it for two months. And no, you will not tell Nicholas that Jaci’s a time traveler, though I doubt he’d believe you, anyway. You know it’s something they have to work out themselves. Besides, I’m not so sure she wants to stay.”
She turned in Michael’s arms and kissed his chin. “I’m very thankful I met you before my window in time appeared again. I can only hope that Jaci will come to understand her reason for being here before she loses the chance to be happy; and to be loved.”
* * *
“Call me? Whatever does that mean?” Nicholas echoed Michael’s words as they rode away in the carriage.
Jaci felt a strange elation over discovering she wasn’t alone any more, but she thanked the lack of lighting in the carriage so he couldn’t clearly see her face. “Isn’t that what you say to someone when you want to visit? You know, calling cards and all that sort of thing?”
He sighed; the same sound of resignation he used every time she said something unbelievable. “I suppose one might say that, although it is more proper to issue a written invitation.” He paused before adding. “You do have a strange way of speaking.”
She shrugged, already lost in thought. She went over every single word she and Nancy had shared; looking for some hint that would tell her when she would return to Dallas. She contemplated the handsome man sitting across from her in the carriage. She clutched her hands, hot and sweaty inside her gloves. Did she even want to return to Dallas?
Chapter Eleven
“‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring...” Jaci recited her favorite holiday poem as she tucked Amanda into bed.
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