A Fall in Time (Train Through Time Series Book 5)

by Bess McBride

  “Matthew!” His mother’s joyous smile made him wince. “Oh, Matthew! How wonderful! Of course she accepted!”

  Matthew shook his head. “No, she did not.” His mother’s face fell, and he hastened to clarify the matter. “Emily stated she considered me a brother but not a potential husband. And I grieved during the weeks that I was gone. But upon my return yesterday, Emily said she wished to reconsider her rejection of my proposal, that she felt we would do well together.”

  His mother stared at him, no doubt attempting to absorb all that he had said. Myriad emotions showed in her expressions, from elation to confusion to anger. Her next words surprised him.

  “Do well together? What could she possibly mean by that?” Her blue eyes glittered and narrowed. “A marriage is not a business arrangement, at least no marriage that my son will enter.” Her chin firmed. “Is she saying that she does not love you? I always imagined that the two of you would marry.”

  “I did as well, Mother,” he said on a sigh. “I imagine Emily means that since we know each other well, we would get along well.”

  “But I do not want you to marry just to get along,” she said. “I want you to marry for love!”

  Matthew’s face reddened. Her words reminded him of Sara’s words.

  “I did not realize you were such a romantic, Mother. I would like to marry for love as well. I thought I loved Emily. Perhaps I do, and I am simply angry with her for her initial rejection.”

  “Well, I am angry, too,” she said. “Not that Emily might not wish to marry you, but that she thinks you should ‘do well together.’”

  Matthew regarded his mother with surprise. She rarely expressed anger.

  “And what about Sara?” she asked. “My original question was about her future, but somehow I feel her future must be tied into the question of whether you will proceed with a marriage to Emily.”

  He heard Sara descend the stairs, and he placed a hasty kiss on his mother’s cheek.

  “I cannot say for now, Mother,” he said. “I must go.”

  Moments later, he handed Sara up into the carriage, and they set off for a delightful tour of the city. Matthew, having lived in Seattle all of his life, enjoyed seeing it through Sara’s fresh, if cryptically unusual, perspective.

  “Tall ships!” she sighed. “Real tall ships.” They had stopped near the pier at Elliot Bay at her request, although he felt the area a little rough for a lady.

  “Yes,” he said. “Tall ships. I take it you have not seen such ships before?”

  “Only in the movies,” she said. She cast a hasty glance at him and pressed her lips together.

  “Moovees?”

  “It’s a Spokane thing,” she murmured. “You probably haven’t heard of them.”

  Matthew opened his mouth to ask for clarification, but Sara’s face had taken on that shuttered look that had come to distress him. He chose to leave the subject alone.

  They had moved on to tour the downtown area, where Sara asked if they might ride a streetcar.

  “I’ve never been on a trolley,” she said with glee as they boarded the streetcar. Matthew directed Raymond to pick them up several miles further up Second Avenue. Never a fan of public transportation, he did his best to tolerate Sara’s enthusiasm for the thankfully short journey.

  “Come now, Sara. I am certain they have streetcars in Spokane. I have seen them.”

  “Really?” she asked as she glanced at him before returning her attention to the bustling activity on Second Avenue. She had found a seat on an exterior bench, which required that Matthew stand at her side and hang on to a pole. A glance at the interior of the crowded car convinced him that he was in the best position possible.

  “Are you saying you are not aware Spokane has streetcars? How is that possible?”

  She shrugged but avoided looking at him. “Too poor, I guess.”

  Matthew frowned at her short answer. Certainly, he firmly believed that she had grown up impoverished, but to have never had enough money even to board a streetcar seemed very poor indeed.

  To Matthew’s relief, the short ride ended, and they proceeded on to a tea room to have an afternoon refreshment.

  Upon entering the restaurant, Sara pulled the pin from her hat and dragged it from her head.

  “Uh oh,” she said as they followed a waitress to the table. “I’m supposed to keep my hat on, aren’t I?”

  Matthew, who had removed his derby and overcoat, followed her gaze around the room. He had given the matter little thought, but yes, it did seem as if all the women continued to wear their hats inside.

  “Let me hazard a guess. You do not wear hats in Spokane, either?”

  Sara, trying to reposition her hat without success, grimaced. “That would be a ‘too poor’ answer?”

  “You phrase that as a question. Are you asking me?” His lips twitched. Sara was both mystifying and intriguing, and he found himself increasingly captivated by the combination.

  Sara sighed and pulled her hat from her head to set it on the seat beside her.

  “No, not really. Too poor,” she said without meeting his gaze. She picked up the menu and surveyed it, her eyes widening.

  “Nice prices!” she said.

  “Please do not tell me you have never been in a tea room before. Surely you must have.”

  Sara looked up from the menu. “Tea room? No, I don’t think I have,” she said. The corner of her mouth lifted as if she repressed a smile. Matthew felt she must have been teasing him. “I’ve been to a coffee shop, if that helps.”

  “A coffee shop sounds very similar to a tea room,” he said. “Perhaps coffee is more prevalent in Spokane than in Seattle.”

  “Oh, I seriously doubt that,” Sara said with a wide grin.

  Matthew cocked his head, as if in doing so, he could understand her enigmatic remarks better.

  “I predict that Seattle will become a paradise for coffee lovers,” she said.

  “Why do you say that? I admit that I prefer coffee, and they do have coffee here in the tea room, but it is not particularly good. Tea is their specialty.”

  “I’m just guessing,” she said. “Just guessing.”

  The waitress returned, and they placed their order. Matthew watched Sara as she surveyed the room.

  “I could probably get a job at a place like this,” she said. “If I were going to stay in Seattle.”

  He drew in a sharp breath. “In a tea room? Oh, no! Certainly not!” he said.

  She drew her brows together into a severe expression.

  “Don’t be a snob, Matthew. I’ll need to get a job somewhere. I don’t know what jobs there are for woman in the twentieth—in Seattle. I can’t live off your parents forever, and I suspect you’ll be marrying and moving on soon, won’t you?”

  Matthew stared at her. She had raised three issues in one short barrage of words, and one caught his attention more than the others.

  Her reference to “twentieth.” Did she mean the “twentieth century?” An odd phrase. Even now that it was the fall of nineteen hundred, he was still unused to calling the new millennium the twentieth century. He had lived the majority of his life in the nineteenth century.

  “You said you did not know what jobs were available for women in the twentieth century. I must say that strikes me as an odd turn of phrase.”

  Sara dropped her gaze to the white linen tablecloth and waved her hand dismissively. “More importantly, I can’t stay with your parents forever, not once you’re married. Emily will come to live at your house, won’t she?”

  Matthew had the impression that she prevaricated.

  “I do not think I ever asked you, Sara. Did you hold a job in Spokane? What did you do?”

  “I worked in the school cafeteria. That’s how I know I could work in a tea room.”

  “What school?”

  She shook her head. “That hardly matters. What about you?”

  “What school, Sara? Please humor me.”

  “I told you
there are things I can’t explain,” she said, her eyes darting about as if she were trapped.

  “Surely you can tell me what school you attended, Sara. Such an innocuous question.” Against his better judgment, Matthew continued his dogged inquisition.

  “Gonzaga! Okay? Gonzaga! It’s just a school!”

  Matthew blinked. “Gonzaga? But Gonzaga is only for men.”

  Sara drew in a sharp breath.

  “Really? I should have known,” she muttered. She held her hands up in a helpless gesture. “I’ve got nothing.”

  Matthew leaned forward.

  “I understand you are withholding information from me, Sara, but please do not lie to me.”

  “Then don’t ask me questions,” she murmured, her eyes downcast. “And for the record, I do go to Gonzaga, men’s college or not.”

  Matthew knew a deep sense of shame. He should not have pressed Sara such that she lied to him. It was unlikely that a young woman from such an impoverished background could afford to attend Gonzaga University, nor did it accept women. But why did she feel the need to lie?

  “Please forgive me for hounding you with questions, Sara, especially when I said I would not. You are such a mystery to me that I occasionally weaken and want to know more. I trust you will tell me everything in time, but I can see you are not yet ready.”

  Sara shook her head.

  “As for employment,” Matthew said. “Please delay any action on that. If you must take employment in the future, I would prefer you work for my family’s company. We have a few lady clerks who seem to be quite happy.”

  Sara sighed heavily, and Matthew had the distinct impression he had said something that saddened or displeased her. The clerk positions in their business were highly sought after and prestigious jobs, and he did not understand the source of her displeasure.

  “These positions do not appeal to you?”

  She shook her head. “Oh, no, that sounds wonderful. Thank you.” Her tone belied her words.

  “As for the question of Emily, I do not know what the future holds, but no, if I were to marry Emily, I would not bring her to my parents’ home. I would establish my own residence. However, that prospect is not only far distant but not a certainty.”

  “When will you decide?”

  “It is no longer my decision, but Emily’s. I must stand by my proposal if she wishes to reconsider it. I am certain that is what I wish, and as I told my mother, I think I must still be angry with her for her initial rejection. That is the only thing which could explain my unexpected lack of enthusiasm at her reversal.”

  “Yes, that must be it,” Sara said quietly.

  Matthew regarded her. Lustrous brunette hair, swept on top of her head, dropped to curls at the nape of her neck and nestled in the lace of her high-necked shirtwaist. Her skin, as pale as the ivory in her blouse, enticed one to run gentle fingers along her cheekbones. Her mouth, wide and beautiful when smiling, had settled into a frown.

  “Yes, that must be it,” he echoed.

  Chapter Twenty

  “I think I will not go into the office today,” Matthew announced the next morning at breakfast. “I must sign some documents tomorrow, which my secretary tells me are vital, but other than that, I believe I will take a few days off.”

  Sara tried to hide her smile of delight.

  “The office will run without you, son. That is the benefit of having well-trained assistants,” his father said with a knowing nod.

  “Yes, exactly,” Matthew agreed. He smiled broadly in Sara’s direction, and her heart fluttered. After the tense conversation they’d had yesterday, she knew the time had come to tell him about herself, but she dreaded the moment. It was likely he wouldn’t favor her with his winsome grin once he heard her babble about time travel and such.

  “That is an excellent plan, Matthew,” his mother said, delicately patting at her mouth with a linen napkin. “I am certain Sara will be most pleased.” She smiled at Sara.

  Matthew’s aquamarine eyes twinkled when he looked at Sara, and a thrill ran up her spine.

  The door to the dining room opened, and Emily stepped into the room.

  “Good morning, dear ones,” she said.

  “Good morning, Emily!” Mr. Webster exclaimed. “Welcome, as always, my dear. Have you come to join us for breakfast?”

  “Yes, I thought I might before I attend to some errands for mother for the dinner and dance tonight.”

  “Good morning, Emily,” Mrs. Webster said.

  “Good morning, Matthew, Miss Reed.” She nodded in Sara’s direction, her smile polite, though not quite reaching her eyes.

  Matthew rose to pull out a chair, and Emily beamed at him as she took a seat.

  Sara knew then that Emily was reconsidering Matthew’s proposal because of her, because Matthew had brought her home. It seemed likely that Emily had taken her childhood friend, Matthew, for granted, but the arrival of a strange woman in the mix had stirred things up.

  “Thank you, Matthew,” Emily said. “I was wondering if you could help me with a few of my errands this morning, Matthew. There is still so much to do for the dinner, and I really do not feel as if I can do everything.”

  Matthew hesitated for a moment, his eyes flying to Sara’s face. Sara looked away.

  “I committed myself to entertaining Miss Reed today, Emily, but if she is willing and you do not mind, I am certain we can both be of assistance to you,” he said.

  Sara brought her napkin to her mouth to hide her gasp. No!

  Emily opened and shut her mouth. She nodded. “Yes, that would be lovely,” she said.

  “What an excellent solution,” Mrs. Webster said. “Just help yourself to the sideboard, Emily. You know we are informal for breakfast.”

  Emily shook her head. “I think that I am not really hungry after all,” she said. “I will just have some coffee.” She poured herself a cup of coffee from a nearby carafe.

  “Are you enjoying your stay in Seattle, Miss Reed?” Emily asked.

  “Sara, please.” Sara nodded. “Yes, I am, thank you.” At the moment, Sara was brainstorming a number of ways to get out of this “run around and do errands with Emily and Matthew” thing.

  “I did not hear yesterday,” Emily said. “How long will you be staying in Seattle?”

  “That has not yet been determined,” Matthew said.

  “Oh, I see,” Emily said. She toyed with her coffee and turned to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Webster about the dinner and dance that evening.

  Sara glanced at Matthew, who seemed to study Emily’s profile with a frown on his face. She had no way of knowing what he was thinking. He had set himself up as her protector almost from the first moment she had met him on the train, and he continued in that vein, even to the point of answering for her when questions became difficult. Although she had never had a man involve himself in her life as thoroughly as Matthew did, she didn’t particularly dislike the sensation. At the moment, she needed his help to navigate the early twentieth century.

  But his championing of her, his instinct to protect her as one would a stray puppy, would put a strain on his relationship with Emily. Sara couldn’t help but feel glad of it, but she was also ashamed of her pettiness. Emily and Matthew had known each other for a long time. They really were more suited to each other and would “do well together,” though Sara hated the term. Maybe the secret to a long and successful union in the nineteen hundreds was compatibility and not the passion that she felt for Matthew.

  Sara realized that somehow, over the course of the past few weeks, she had fallen in love with Matthew—completely and irrevocably. She had fallen in time and fallen in love. Could she have found a man like Matthew in the twenty-first century? It was unlikely. Had time, finding her the perfect man, albeit in another century, made a course correction and brought her to meet him?

  Or was this all some crazy dream that she would soon awaken from, to find herself in her apartment in Spokane, her head slumped on her desk? If so, she c
ertainly had a vivid imagination.

  She looked up and caught Matthew watching her, his head cocked in that inquisitive way he had, a gentle smile on his face. She lifted her lips and nodded, almost as if to tell him how she felt.

  His smile gave way to a handsome broad grin, and he pressed his napkin to his mouth and rose.

  “Are you ready, Emily? Sara?”

  “Sara will need to get her outdoor things,” his mother said. Sara welcomed the reminder. The house was warm, making it easy to forget how chilly it probably was outside. Further, Sara wasn’t sure she was ever going to remember to grab a hat unless someone reminded her.

  She skedaddled up the stairs, still wishing she could get out of the little errand adventure coming up. In fact, she wasn’t looking forward to the dinner and dance either. She had no idea what to wear or how she was going to talk to still more people from another century.

  Emily really only had a few errands and none that she needed Matthew for. As Sara had suspected, it had only been a ploy to get him to herself, and Sara wondered why Matthew had insisted she come along. She could have easily entertained herself with a walk around the Queen Anne Hill neighborhood. Even in Spokane, she had heard of the luxurious mansions on Seattle’s Queen Anne Hill.

  They rode in Emily’s carriage, stopping by a flower shop to confirm that flowers were being delivered. Emily ordered a few more, consulting with Matthew as she did so, but Sara suspected Emily did so only to justify asking Matthew to come along.

  Emily then directed her driver to a large brownstone near the center of Seattle. The city was large, even in nineteen hundred, and Sara felt thoroughly lost and disoriented. Horse-drawn wagons in every configuration gave the street facing the brownstone a congested and noisy atmosphere.

  “Mother forgot to send an invitation to Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood, and they insist on having a formal invitation before they will attend, so I must drop it off. I will only be a moment.”

  Matthew stepped down to hand Emily from the carriage, and he stood by the carriage door while she walked up the sidewalk to the front door.

  “Matthew,” Sara hissed from inside the carriage. “Why on earth did you drag me out with you guys? It’s obvious Emily wanted to talk to you alone.”