Chapter Sixteen

Nathan opened his eyes, and turned to look for Dani. She was not there. The green velvet bench seat in the sleeping compartment showed no resemblance to the blue seats of the trains of the twenty-first century.

He gritted his teeth, willing himself not to break down into tears like a child. He had not traveled in time! He remained in the year 1906. He had lost Amanda in time, and he could not reach her.

Despite the ache in his chest, he grew concerned for Dani’s safety. Where had she gone? He prayed he had not lost her as well. He couldn’t live with himself had he put her in harm’s way.

Nathan jumped up and pulled open the door. The hallway was empty save for a porter at the end of the Pullman car. Nathan stepped out.

“Excuse me, have you seen my...wife?” Nathan bit his tongue. How many wives was he accruing on this time traveling venture? Stephen would be most displeased.

“She is petite, red-haired?” he continued. “She boarded with me?”

The porter shook his head. “No, sir. I haven’t seen anyone like that. But I don’t remember you boarding the train either, sir. In fact, I don’t have anyone staying in that compartment. Can I see your ticket?”

Nathan stiffened. “Well, I most certainly have a ticket,” he said. He reached into the pocket of his jacket, retrieved the ticket and handed it to the porter.

The porter looked at it and narrowed his eyes before raising his head and favoring Nathan with a look of censure.

“Sir, this ticket can’t be real. It’s dated October 15, 1906. I think I’d better go get the conductor.”

Nathan waylaid him by grabbing his arm.

“What do you mean the ticket cannot be real? I purchased it myself at the station.”

“No, sir. It can’t. It’s dated for the future. I don’t think they issue tickets that far in advance.”

Nathan sighed and shook his head. He braced himself against a wall and asked the question he had come to hate.

“What is the date?”

“October 15, 1905, sir. I’m going to go get the conductor.”

Nathan opened his eyes and stared at the porter.

“Yes, please do.” Nathan had money in his pocket, so he knew the conductor would not unceremoniously throw him from the train.

“1905,” he whispered aloud. What did this mean? Where would Amanda be in time? And how was it possible that he remembered her. He had not yet met her in 1905. He recalled the words he had whispered before he traveled through time.

Above all else, I wish to find Amanda in time... Any time. It matters not. I will always love her. I have always loved her. Please help me find her.

Had his fervent wish to find her “any time” ensured that he did not forget her?

If nothing else, this certainly meant that Dani was safely ensconced at her lakeside cabin in the Glacier Wilderness of Montana with her husband, Stephen, and their children. He thanked his lucky stars for that and vowed that whatever the outcome of the next few hours or days, he would never ask anyone to help him travel in time again. He could not risk losing them, as he had Amanda.

He pushed himself from the wall and returned to the sleeping compartment. The bed had not been turned down, and the green velvet benches were in place. He slumped down onto one of them and stared out of the window. Where was Amanda now? Was she home in Seattle...in 2013? After all, it was now fully one year prior to the date when he had first met her.

A knock on the door heralded the conductor, a portly man with a kindly voice.

“What’s this now, sir? The porter here showed me this ticket which appears to be valid.” He threw a withering glance over his shoulder toward the porter in the hall. “He said something about it being a forgery, but I can see that it isn’t. However, you seem to be on the train a tad early. Do you have another ticket we could see?”

Nathan looked up at the conductor in bemusement. “No, I am afraid I do not, Conductor. I must have misspoken when I bought the ticket at the station and given the agent the wrong year. Could I just purchase a fare now?”

The conductor nodded in a satisfied way and threw another withering glance over his shoulder at the embarrassed porter.

“Certainly, sir. And where are you headed?”

Nathan hadn’t thought that far in advance. “Where are we now?”

“Just about ten minutes shy of Wenatchee. We’ll get in at about 2 p.m.”

“Wenatchee then,” Nathan said. “I will go to Wenatchee.” A small glimmer of an idea formed in his mind.

“It seems hardly worth taking your money, sir, since we’re almost there. But it’s not my money, so I better take the fare.”

The conductor quoted him the price and Nathan gave him the money. The conductor withdrew a pad from his coat pocket and wrote up a ticket.

“There you go, sir. I’m sorry about the confusion, and I hope to see you on the train next year, if not sooner.”

Nathan smiled absently. He looked out of the window again. Yes, there was the Wenatchee River near the tracks. Soon, they would approach the confluence with the Columbia River. He would get off the train in Wenatchee. Mr. Spivey would not know him, nor would Mrs. Spivey. He would be a stranger in town, but at least this time, he had enough money to pay for the telegram he must sent to Robert to transfer funds to the bank in Wenatchee.

The train pulled into the station, and Nathan stepped down off the carriage. The air was crisp and cool, as crisp as the apples which now awaited loading onto the cargo compartment of the train.

Nathan entered the station, finding it unchanged from the previous year. Mr. Spivey was busy corralling a few passengers and herding them toward the doors where one of the conductors received them. Nathan waited until Mr. Spivey returned to his position behind the counter.

“Yes, can I help you,” Mr. Spivey asked.

“Yes, thank you. I would like to send a telegram.”

“Certainly,” Mr. Spivey responded. “If you could just write it down here.” He pushed a pad of paper toward Nathan, and Nathan jotted his note.

Robert,

I am safe and sound in Wenatchee, Washington, the Apple Capital of the World, where I’m of a mind to stay awhile. Please coordinate an account for me here at the First National Bank of Wenatchee. I will explain all when I see you next.

Yours,

Nathan

He handed the telegram to Mr. Spivey and proudly produced the money for the transaction. Not since he was a small child with a birthday nickel to buy candy had he been so tickled to pay for something.

“Mr. Spivey, is there a hotel in town?” He wondered what the station agent would say.

“Yes, there’s a hotel down the street there, the River Hotel. My wife owns it. Or there’s the fancier Empire Hotel further in town. You might enjoy that hotel.”

Nathan smiled. “The River Hotel will be just fine. I’ll walk over there now.”

Mr. Spivey nodded and busied himself with sending the telegram.

Nathan left and retraced his steps of only days ago or years ago, he really didn’t know which, to the River Hotel. It too was unchanged.

He stepped inside, wishing that it were the middle of the night and Amanda was at his side. He had only been here a few days ago...and a year into the future...following the accident on the river. He had knocked on the door of Amanda’s room, hoping against hope that she waited there for him, but she had left on the train with Robert.

Mrs. Spivey bustled out from the kitchen area.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“Yes, I would like a room please.”

Mrs. Spivey nodded and stepped behind the small counter in the lobby.

“For one?”

Nathan held back the sigh on the edge of his lips. “Yes, one.”

“And how long will you be staying?”

Nathan shook his head. “I am not certain. For a while, I think.”

Mrs. Spivey’s cheeks turned pink, no doubt at the thought of the income. Once again, the hotel appeared to be empty of guests. Another idea formed in his mind, but he suspected he would need to tread lightly with that scheme.

“Number seven, just up the stairs to the left,” she said. “I’ll bring some tea to your room in a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Nathan said. He climbed the stairs and looked down at the key. It was the key to Amanda’s room. He had thought to ask for that room but was unsure how to explain his desire for a room that in theory he had never seen before.

He opened the door and stepped in. Shutting the door behind himself, he leaned against it and imagined that Amanda stood before him, facing the mirror, asking for his help with her hair—her beautiful silky chestnut hair. He remembered the sweet smell of the curls as he combed them out following her bath. He closed his eyes as if her scent lingered in the room. The soft white skin at the nape of her neck just above her collar had enthralled him, and he had tended to her hair long after the last curl had been combed.

He dragged in a ragged breath. Amanda, Amanda... Where was she? Was she safe? In her time? He truly hoped so. Would she try to return to him? To travel in time to find him? He hated himself for wishing it so, but he did. She had once been content with her life in 2013, and she could be again. Perhaps fate had been kind and sent her to a time before she had met him, so that she could live out her life in blissful ignorance of their love. But he couldn’t lie, not even to himself. He fervently hoped that she would find him.

****

“That was a wonderful dinner, Mrs. Spivey. Thank you so much.” Nathan passed a napkin across his mouth and settled it next to his plate.

“Thank you, Mr. Carpenter,” she said. “It’s just simple food, but I do like to cook. I don’t get much opportunity to cook for gentlemen, of course.”

“I cannot imagine why,” he said. “Your food is delicious.”

“I’ll get you dessert. I’ve got some chocolate cake set aside for guests.” Blushing, she picked up the plates and turned away.

“Mrs. Spivey, I wonder if I could discuss a business arrangement with you.”

She turned and eyed him with round eyes. He hurried on.

“I have some extra money that I would like to invest in a business or two. I think I would like to invest in your hotel, perhaps help you refurbish the furnishings, modernize the rooms, the bathrooms, your kitchen?” He smiled, hoping he had said the right word to entice her. “Of course, I have not been in your kitchen, but I imagine any woman’s kitchen could use more modern appliances. Would that be accurate?”

Mrs. Spivey nodded slowly. She set the plates down and took a seat across the table.

“Why would you want to do all that? You’ve only been here for a few hours. You don’t know me or the hotel.” Her voice reminded him of Mr. Spivey’s accusations not so long ago, that he and Amanda had been doing “unseemly” things in the hotel as an unmarried couple. He shook his head to dispel the unpleasant memory.

“As I mentioned, I have some extra money that I would like to invest. What better investment than a hotel?” He had not thought so in years past, but he’d grown fond of the hotel during their stay. It held memories of Amanda. And Mrs. Spivey was indeed an excellent cook.

“What do you expect for it?” she asked brusquely. “This is my hotel. My father left it to me. I’m not giving it up.”

Nathan held up a hand. “No need. None at all. You would remain in sole ownership of the hotel. I could provide you with funds to refurbish it, and you could repay me the loan from a feasible percentage of your profits. You could take as long as you like. I know where you live,” he said with a smile.

Mrs. Spivey tilted her head and regarded him carefully. “I could try to make it as fancy as the Empire Hotel.”

She said it as if she wished to scare him off, but she failed. That had been his intent. He had never enjoyed the prosperity of the Empire Hotel while Mrs. Spivey’s hotel saw few guests, and he had hoped to remedy that one day. That time was now.

“Yes, you could,” he said, “and you are a better cook.”

“How do you know?” she asked. “Have you eaten there?”

“A long time ago,” he said. He held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

She stuck out her hand and took his. “I’ll have to check with my husband, but the decision is mine. I’ll want a lawyer to read any contract you hand me, but if everything works out, then yes, we have a deal. Thank you, Mr. Carpenter. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m mighty grateful that you did.”

“I’m often not sure where I come from either, Mrs. Spivey. Bring on the chocolate cake then.”

****

The next morning, Nathan stopped by Mrs. Murphy’s store and purchased a wardrobe for himself. While Mrs. Murphy tallied his bill, he lingered by the women’s section and eyed the clothing with bittersweet nostalgia.

“Something for a loved one, Mr. Carpenter? Your wife perhaps?” Mrs. Murphy arched an eyebrow. Nathan turned away abruptly.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Murphy. I am not married.” He hated the words. He should have been married by now—to Amanda. She should have been at his side. He even resented that Mrs. Murphy had made mention of a wife.

“No, thank you,” he said as he laid money on the counter. “Please have the clothing delivered to my room at the River Hotel. Good day to you.”

He left the store and made his way to the bank, wondering if Robert had made the arrangements yet. As he approached the door of the bank, Mrs. Spivey hurried up to him, a basket in her hand.

“My husband has a telegram for you, Mr. Carpenter. He brought it to me since he thought I might know where you were. I was on my way out to shop, and I brought it with me, hoping I would see you.”

Nathan tipped his newly purchased straw hat and took the telegram from Mrs. Spivey.

“Thank you, madam. That was very kind of you. Now that I see you, I was wondering if you and your husband had a chance to discuss my proposal?”

She beamed. “Well, I told him I was going to accept your offer. Since it’s my hotel, I don’t feel like I really need his permission, but we talked about it anyway. Whenever you have a contract for me to sign, I’ll take it to a lawyer and have him look it over.”

“Excellent!” Nathan said. He tipped his hat again. “I will see you later then, Mrs. Spivey.”

She nodded and moved on down the wooden sidewalk, and Nathan opened the telegram.

Nathan

As requested, I have opened an account for you at the First National Bank of Wenatchee, and you are free to draw upon it. I look forward to hearing from you regarding your plans in Wenatchee.

Best

Robert Chamberlain

Nathan smiled. The telegram was discreet and professional, much like Robert was himself. No doubt his friend had questions, but he would wait until Nathan was ready to disclose his plans. He imagined Ellie would be mightily curious, but she would have to wait as well.

He looked up from the telegram and surveyed the town to see the unpaved streets of dirt, wooden sidewalks, false-fronted wooden buildings and horse-drawn wagons that lined the road. To date, he had not seen one single automobile, an electric streetcar, or even a proper carriage.

The town was charming in its early simplicity. He knew it would grow into a prosperous little city in time, but for now, he thought he might quite enjoy Wenatchee in its infancy.

He entered the bank, verified his account, withdrew some funds and inquired after an attorney. He visited with the attorney and provided him with instructions to draw up paperwork for his loan to Mrs. Spivey.

As he stepped out of the attorney’s office, the sound of a train whistle caught his attention, and his heart thudded. Amanda! Could she possibly be on the train?

He raced down to the train station just in time to see it pull into the station.

Mr. Spivey threw him a surprised look. “Are you expecting someone on the train, Mr. Carpenter?”

Nathan, hurrying through the lobby to reach the platform, raised a hand in greeting.

“Perhaps, Mr. Spivey. Perhaps!”

He burst onto the platform and waited, holding his breath, while passengers descended from the train. He scanned their faces, but Amanda was not among the arrivals. When the last passenger entered the lobby, Nathan hurried down the length of the train to see if she were aboard and sleeping, but he couldn’t see her face pressed against any of the windows. He contemplated asking the conductor if he could step aboard and search for a “friend,” but he knew that request would be turned down...and understandably so.

With a heavy step and heavier heart, he returned to the lobby.

“Nothing, Mr. Carpenter?” Mr. Spivey peered at him from behind the counter.

Nathan shook his head. “Not this afternoon, Mr. Spivey. Not this afternoon. I shall check again this evening.”

“But that’s the westbound train, sir, and it comes in very late...after midnight. Which way will your passenger be traveling?”

Nathan shook his head again. “I am not sure, Mr. Spivey. Thank you for the telegram.”

“You’re welcome.”

Nathan nodded absently and pushed open the door of the train station. He had forgotten what his plans had been before he’d heard the train whistle. What had he been going? He slowly retraced his steps toward town. The sight of the Empire Hotel reminded him he had not had lunch, so he stopped in and had a meal. He imagined that Amanda and Robert dined with him as they had, and he felt infinitely better.

All was not lost. He would present himself to the train station twice a day—in the afternoon and late at night—until Amanda came to him. The notion that she might never find her way back to him was a possibility that he couldn’t ignore, but he tried his best to push it to the back of his mind.

Following a distracted lunch, he stepped outside again and scanned the nearby buildings. What had he been planning to do before the train arrived?

The sign over the local land agent’s office caught his eye. That was it! He strode across the street and entered the building opposite.

“Can I help you?” asked a tall, thin silver-haired man.

“Yes, I believe you can. I wish to buy property along the Columbia River. I intend to build a house overlooking the river.”