SAMUEL HUGGED HIS sister and then assisted his father with the luggage as the ladies walked inside.
“I’d like a private word with you, son, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” Sam said as he set the bags in the foyer. Rayne smiled and gave him a wink and continued up the stairs. Sam turned back to his father. “Let’s go into my office.”
His father set his bags down and followed Sam to the back of the house. Sam closed the door behind his father and asked, “What’s going on? Is everything all right with Meely?”
“Yes. Fine.” His father sat in one of the office chairs. “I’m divorcing your mother.”
“What?” Sam nearly lost his footing and leaned against his desk in shock.
“You know things have been difficult between the two of us.”
“Things have never not been difficult between the two of you.”
“I suppose that’s true. However, I refuse to stay married to her any longer. She’s a shrew.”
“Father.” Sam dragged his hands down his face. “What’s changed? You’ve never gotten on well, so why now?”
“I’ve met someone.”
“Who?”
“You don’t know her.”
Sam tried to keep his irritation in check. “What about Mother? What will she do? Have you even discussed this with her?”
“Oh, I’ll provide for her. I owe her that much. She can keep the damn house as well, for all I care. It came with her, after all, but I’ll no longer be chained to her.” His father paced the room, his face alight with relief. “And yes, I’ve discussed it with her.”
“What about Amelia?”
“About that,” he said slowly.
“Father,” Sam said with a sigh. “You can’t mean to leave her with mother.”
“God, no. I’d hoped she could live with you until she heads to Vassar.”
“She still wants to do that, hmm?”
His father nodded. “Yes. Her sudden interest in nursing has your mother and me quite baffled. She’s always been more inclined toward frippery than science, and if she sees blood, she faints.”
Her budding interest in Jacob Butler, and his desire to be a doctor more than likely has her now on that train of thought. Sam almost said this aloud, but wisely kept his opinion to himself, knowing his father would not approve of Amelia’s love-interest. “Well, perhaps, she’s finally growing up.”
“Perhaps.” His father paused his pacing. “Will you take her in?”
“What does Mother think about all of this?”
“She’ll do whatever I tell her to do.”
“Of course she will.” Sam sighed. “I’ll be happy to speak with Rayne. She loves Amelia, so I’m sure she’ll be happy to take her in.”
“Why would you do that? Speak to your wife, I mean.”
Sam crossed his arms. “Because she’s my wife and she has as much say as I do in whether or not we invite Meely to stay.”
His father shook his head in what, disapproval? Resignation? Sam wasn’t sure which, but kept his irritation in check. His father may have been a loving father, but he was a lousy husband in Sam’s opinion and would never understand Sam’s relationship with Rayne. Most men of their century wouldn’t. “I simply have a great deal of respect for my wife. I can’t imagine she’ll object, but I’ll still give her the courtesy of asking.”
His father shrugged. “I suppose that’s your decision.”
Sam resisted a retort and forced a smile. “Why don’t you bring your bags upstairs and get settled? I’ll find the ladies and we’ll sort out Amelia’s situation.”
His father nodded and followed Sam out of the office and up the stairs.
* * *
Dinner wrapped up and Sam’s father chose to turn in early, as did Amelia. Rayne led Sam into their bedroom and closed the door.
“Okay, spill, babe.” She turned her back and let Sam unlace her corset. “You and your dad were really tense at dinner. It’s not like you to be so curt with people. Even him. What’s going on?”
Sam tugged on her laces. “My father is divorcing my mother.”
Rayne gasped, spinning to face him. “What? Seriously?”
He nodded.
“Isn’t that... like, illegal in this century?”
Sam scrubbed a hand over his chin. “No, not illegal. I suppose it’s just not really done.”
“That would explain his need to buy new clothes for Amelia.”
“How do you come to that conclusion?” Sam asked.
“It’s the classic guilty dad move. He’s buying her forgiveness... or trying to, anyway.”
“You might be right.” He swore and paced the room. “My father has no regard for the scandal it’s going to cause, or how it will affect my mother and sister.”
Rayne slipped the hooks on her corset and set it on the sofa at the end of their bed. “I’m sorry, baby. What can I do?”
Sam crossed his arms. “Father has asked that we take Amelia in until she heads off to college.”
“Well, of course. As long as your mom agrees, I think it would probably be a really good idea.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you think she’ll go through with the college thing? I mean, she hates blood. I can’t see her in nursing.”
“I’m hoping whatever affection she has for Jacob Butler will subside and when that does, she’ll probably shy away from nursing.”
“Why?” Rayne challenged. “You like Jacob. Admit it. The fact he didn’t back down from your bullying at the wedding reception earned him a measure of your respect, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know that I respect him quite enough to allow him to court my little sister.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to get over it. I think she’s already in love with him.” She smiled gently. “I don’t know how he feels about her, I hope the same, but we can monitor that situation while she’s living here.”
“So, that’s a yes.”
Rayne nodded. “That’s a definite yes.”
He sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “Thank you.”
Rayne closed the distance between them. “Did you think I’d say no?”
“No.” He slid his arms around her waist. “But I got an earful from my father for even wanting to consult your opinion.”
Rayne giggled as she pulled his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. “Kinda sucks to be your own man, huh?”
“Something like that. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
She unbuttoned his shirt and shook her head. “Not at all. I think it’ll be fun.”
“She’s a handful.”
Rayne snorted. “Please. I was a handful at her age. She’s a piece of cake compared to me.”
“You couldn’t possibly have been that bad.”
“Baby, I was riding a Harley by the time I was eighteen.”
“Who the hell is Harley?”
She giggled. “Not who... what. That motorcycle picture I showed you before my battery ran out.”
“Yes, right.” He scowled. “Absolutely inappropriate.”
She shook her head. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Leathers and a helmet, not your cup of tea. Anyway, I’d been kicked out of a couple of schools, quit one, and gotten a record deal. I was making more money than a teenager should, and had absolutely no one to guide me, except Shaye. And even though she’s far more grounded than me, we were still kids. Believe me, she tried to keep me on track, but I fought her the entire way.”
“If that was really the case”—he pulled his shirt over his head—“you’ve turned out quite well, then.”
Rayne laughed. “I guess you could say that.”
“You won’t give her any ideas, will you, Angel?”
“Me?” She leaned forward and kissed his chest. “Never.”
He raised her chin. “It won’t matter, I’ll still love you just the way you are.”
“Well, that’s because you’re a good boy and I’m a really bad girl.”
“You don’t say,” he quipped.
“Yep.” She nodded. “You’re a regular boy scout.”
“What’s a boy scout?”
“Um, right. It’s a group... ah... more of a club, actually, set up for boys to earn merit badges for archery, emergency preparedness, hiking, and stuff like that. They wear a really geeky uniform and salute and all that stuff nerds do.”
Sam laughed. “So, I am a geeky to you, then?”
Rayne chuckled. “The correct word is ‘geek.’ And absolutely not. Truth be told, I’ve never known a boy scout who looked like you.” She ran her fingers down his chest. “Or felt like you.”
“You’ve felt several then?” He raised an eyebrow.
She giggled and shook her head. “No. None. But we’re veering off track here.”
“Are we?” he asked, and kissed her neck. “Would you like to guide me back?”
She licked her lips as he tugged on the ribbon at the neck of her chemise, loosening it enough to fall to her waist. “Ah, maybe,” she rasped.
“Why don’t we go down a different road?”
She nodded.
“Where would you like me to start?” he asked.
“Anywhere.”
He kissed her collar bone. “Here?”
“Hmm-mm,” she mumbled.
He moved back up to her neck. “Here?”
“Yes.”
“I think your body needs a more thorough exploration.” Sam lifted her onto the bed and mapped out his journey.
* * *
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
Sophie Ford sighed when she felt her husband’s soft lips on her neck.
“It’s time to wake up, baby,” he whispered.
She shook her head. “It can’t possibly be time to wake up. I’m still tired.”
Jamie chuckled and ran his hand over her hip. “We’ve got people arriving in a few hours, and I know how picky you are when it comes to greeting guests.”
“You’re right, I guess.” She rolled over to face him with a smile, and quickly frowned. “Why are you dressed?”
He chuckled. “I’ve been up since six. I think the staff would completely lose their minds if I were still naked.”
She rubbed her eyes. “Mrs. Peterson certainly would.”
Gertrude Peterson was their head housekeeper, a widow, and straighter than a nun, only much less merciful. Rules were to be followed to a T—and if they weren’t, discipline would be doled out accordingly. She’d lost one son in the war and the other had moved as far away as humanly possible.
“Why is she here again?” Jamie asked.
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to give her purpose after her son was killed at Gettysburg.”
“Oh, right. That.”
“Yes, that.” She cocked her head. “Is that any way a chaplain of the Union army should respond?”
He grimaced. “I do want to give her purpose; I just need her to loosen up a bit. And I think it’s a little ridiculous that they’ve given me the title of chaplain as well as captain.”
“You’ve kind of been doing the job of chaplain since you arrived, so why wouldn’t they recognize it?”
He shrugged. “Because the war will be over in less than two months and I’ll be done with the army.”
“They don’t know that, remember. And now you can marry people.”
“Yippee, I guess?” Jamie chuckled. “Come on, baby. The house is already up and moving.”
Sophie sighed. “This is the downside of having staff. The only one, mind you, but I have to admit, I’m kinda sad that the days of hanging out in pajamas and watching old movies have become distant memories.”
Even after more than two years of being in the eighteen hundreds, she’d still wake up expecting to flip a switch for light rather than lighting a candle or an oil lamp.
“I miss flannel,” he admitted.
“Ahh, if only we were living in Wales. You’d have your flannel.”
He laughed. “I was talking more along the lines of Old Navy’s flannel PJ pants, but of course you’d have some inkling of when flannel was invented.”
Sophie giggled. “Sometime in the seventeen-hundreds. I think we’ll still be alive when it comes to North America, but our precious Seattle-Nirvana timeframe is out of reach.” She stroked his face. “You are beyond yummy, you know.”
He was still the same man she’d married in the future, but with minor differences, like the style of his hair and beard. Much more Civil War captain than future day CEO.
Jamie smiled and leaned down to kiss her. Sophie slid her hand into his hair, pulling him closer. A knock from the adjoining door elicited a groan from her, but the sound of Junior’s cry had Jamie sliding off the bed and into motion. He pulled open the door.
“Dada,” Junior said.
Sophie made a quick trip to the bathroom while Jamie retrieved their son from the nanny. “Thank you, Sarah. Go and have something to eat and we’ll find you when we’re ready,” he said.
“Yes sir,” she said.
Sophie climbed back onto the mattress just as Jamie closed the door and made his way back to the bed. As soon as their son caught sight of Sophie, he started to cry and reached for her. Jamie had to keep a firm grip to keep him from pitching out of his arms. “Man, he’s turning into Bam Bam more and more every day.”
“Okay, okay,” Sophie cooed as Jamie settled Junior against her breast. “You’re hungry. I get it.” He sniffled as big crocodile tears slid down his face. She wiped his tears away and he smiled up at her, eating as though he wasn’t already as chubby as the Michelin Man.
As Sophie fed Junior, Jamie opened the door to their bathroom. They’d built their new house to accommodate more of their modern sensibilities, which called for closets and indoor plumbing.
Sophie heard the water start in the tub and grinned down at Junior. “Do you know how much I love your daddy? Hmm?” He grinned up at her and then went quickly back to eating.
Jamie returned to the room and pushed open the closet door. “What do you want to wear today?”
“The blue, I think. It’s one of the only two that fit.” She cocked her head. “Remind me again why I have a lady’s maid when I have you?”
“Because, ultimately, it’s her job to dress you.” He pulled out her dark blue day dress and laid it on the bench at the end of their bed. “Mine is to undress you. Today’s just a bonus. I get to do both.”
Sophie giggled. “And you do them both very well.”
“I live to serve,” Jamie said as he kissed her.
Junior reached out for him and Jamie leaned down again so the baby could grab his moustache. Junior gurgled as he gripped Jamie’s lip.
“Ow!” Sophie winced as Junior gnawed on her breast.
Jamie pulled away from his son and frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. He bit me. I thought breastfeeding’s supposed to toughen you up. I’m more sensitive lately.” She smiled at Junior’s furrowed brow. “Don’t worry, little man. You’re not in trouble. This teeth thing just isn’t working out well for me.”
Junior grinned again as Sophie switched him to the other side. Jamie headed back to the bathroom and Sophie heard the water stop. “Are you here for a bit, or do you need to help Travis?” she called.
Travis and Jessica Wade were living with them until spring, then they would build their own house. In the meantime, Travis was sorting through the cavalry horses, separating those to keep from those better suited for farm work. Now that the war was dying down, known only by a select few, of course, Jamie was making preparations for their future.
“I’m here for the rest of the day. I have some paperwork to deal with, but Travis and I have already done what was needed for the day at the arena.” He walked back into the room. “He’s probably trying to wake Jess as we speak.”
“Knowing her, she’s probably in the tub.”
“Is that where all the hot water goes?” Jamie asked.
Sophie snorted. “You’re funny. We have plenty of hot water, but I’ll talk to her.”
“It’s fine at the moment with the extra boilers to heat the water, but when everyone arrives, we’ll need to adjust. Just go easy when you talk to her. She’s a little on edge at the moment.”
“You noticed that too, huh?”
Jamie nodded with a grin. “So has Travis.”
“Uh-oh. She’s been missing Mark a lot lately. I’d never tell Travis this, but I think she misses home.”
“Do you think she regrets staying?”
“I don’t think regret’s the right word. I think she’s just torn between the love of her brother and the love of her life, you know? Mark’s birthday is this month, I think, so that might have triggered some stuff. I remember missing Emma, even after you and I reconnected. There’s just something about that sibling bond.” She shifted Junior and smiled down at him. “Speaking of Emma, any word from her?”
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “You mean since last night?”
“Oh, stop. She’s been without Clayton for almost a week. You know how hard it is to have a new baby. I can’t imagine not being without you ever, let alone with a newborn. She said she’d send someone over if she needed me.”
He smiled. “I’m sure she’s fine, but if you get up and dressed, you can check on her yourself. I’ll take care of Bubba.”
“Ooh, girl time without the tornado. I’m all over that.”
Now that Junior was crawling and pulling himself onto all manner of things, Sophie had to watch him like a hawk. Her nanny was wonderful, but Sophie was still getting used to having help and insisted on being with him as much as possible.
Sophie waited until Junior was no longer interested in nursing and gave him to Jamie. She pulled off her nightgown as she made her way into the bathroom and stepped into the warmth of the tub.
Jamie returned, childless, obviously having handed Junior off to their nanny, and leaned against the bathroom door. “Remind me who’s coming when and where they’re staying?”
“Clayton, Chris, Hannah, and Penny will be arriving with Quincy and Victoria around four. They’re all staying with Clayton and Emma. And Richard and Charity, of course. Sam and Rayne are arriving tomorrow. Not sure when, but probably around dinnertime. They’re staying with us. Stephen and Christine said they’d come for the party, but probably won’t stay overnight, so we might not see them until Friday. But since Andrew can’t seem to go long without seeing you... your weird bromance and all... I’m guessing he and Gwen may come tonight and stay with Michael and Nona.”
Nona was Andrew’s sister and lived next door to the Fords’ with her husband, Dr. Michael Wade.
“Andrew’s wearing out his welcome at the Paxton’s already, hmm?”
Sophie chuckled. “How can they when they’re constantly here?”
“You do have a point.”
Sophie closed her eyes, savoring the bath. “I invited Jacob. I also have a feeling that if Amelia can find a way, she’ll come as well. I’m having two rooms made up for them just in case.” She opened her eyes and frowned. “Although, that might not have been the best idea, now that I think about it.”
“Especially since they can’t both stay here,” Jamie said.
“Yes, good point. I’ll talk to Emma when I go over later. I’d venture a guess she’s already expecting Jacob and will have adjusted.”
“It’ll be fine. In fact, it might be better if they’re both here,” Jamie said. “If Jacob and Amelia keep each other occupied, it’ll give the rest of us the chance to form a plan.”
The group was gathering to discuss what to do about the upcoming assassination of President Lincoln. They’d come to the decision they had to stop it, and with Sophie’s knowledge of history, they thought they might have a fighting chance.
“What have you decided to do about Richard? We can’t tell him the truth, can we?”
Jamie shook his head. “No, but Clayton’s already told him that we’re going to take some time to brainstorm about a threat to the President. He won’t know anything outside of that... at least, I hope he won’t. And since Chris usually knows about the threats beforehand, Richard’s none the wiser.”
Sophie bit her lip. “Do you think it’ll work?”
Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know, but we’ve all decided we’re going to do our damndest and try. I just hope your memory is working.”
“Oh, it’s working overtime,” she said. “And I don’t really care if we change history at this point.”
“Yes, I know, baby,” Jamie droned as he rolled his eyes.
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you sick of hearing about it?”
He made the inch symbol with his fingers. “Little bit.”
She closed her eyes again. “Whatever. Why don’t you call for Lucy and go away?”
Under Mrs. Peterson’s direction, Lucy was Sophie’s personal maid, and the woman who dressed her for special occasions.
“Before I tell you my surprise?”
Sophie opened one eye in suspicion. “What surprise?”
“A little birdie might have told me that a certain African-American gentleman will be speaking in Philadelphia, and a certain army captain might have organized for himself and his beautiful wife to attend.”
Sophie sat up. “Not Frederick Douglass and the equality before the law lecture?”
Jamie shrugged. “Maybe.”
“The one where Elizabeth Greenfield sang... I mean, sings? That one?”
He studied his fingernails and shrugged again. “Maybe.”
“James William Ford, are you messing with me?”
“Me?” Jamie chuckled. “I’d never mess with you about history, baby.”
Sophie let out an excited squeal. “Come here, you big, beautiful, perfect man.”
When Jamie leaned down to kiss her, Sophie took her chance. As his lips touched hers, she splashed him, soaking the front of his shirt. “Oops, did I do that?”
“Oh, really?” he retorted, and reached into the tub to tickle her.
“Sorry, sorry,” she gasped, in between breaths.
“So very sorry.” Sophie squealed with laughter as he wrapped his hands around her waist again. “Stop, Jamie, please. I’m going to pee.”
“Good thing you’re in the tub then.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Do you want to ride later?” he asked. “Samson could use the exercise.”
“So can I.” She ran her hand over her belly. “I really want to get rid of this.”
He leaned back on his heels. “You’re perfect, Ten-Cow.”
“You’re supposed to say that. You’re my husband.”
“Sophie Jane, you need to give yourself a break. Junior’s nine months old and you’re back down to your pre-pregnancy weight. Even a little less, I’d venture to guess.”
“Hey, this isn’t like before.”
Sophie referred to her failing heart in the future. She’d dropped down to barely a hundred pounds, which at five-feet-seven, was far too skinny. Since arriving in the past and being completely cured, she’d managed to put on twenty-five pounds. She’d gained another forty with Junior and was now trying to lose just a little.
“I know.” He smiled. “You know me, I love your body, and I like it with a little more to hold onto.”
“I’ll work on that,” she promised. “In the meantime, now that you’re all wet, I think you should take off your shirt.” She pointed to his chest with a hopeful look. “It would be terrible if you got sick during the party.”
Jamie chuckled as he undid the buttons of his shirt and slipped it from his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be getting dressed.”
“That wouldn’t be very fair if you’re getting naked.” She ran her hand down his chest. “Is Junior with Sarah for a while?”
He nodded as he kicked off his shoes.
Sophie stood up in the tub and grinned as her husband’s eyes raked over her. “So, we have ‘a while.’”
He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her wet body against his. “You are the best... and worst... distraction.”
She kissed him. “Back atya. Now, let’s be quick. I have a lot to do today.”
Jamie groaned, carrying her to the bedroom and dropping her gently on the bed. “I’m starting to feel objectified, Ten-Cow. You seem to only want me for my body.”
Sophie tugged at the waistband of his pants. “Objectification can be a good thing, baby. Now, get those pants off.”
Jamie laughed and did as he was told.