Chapter Three

“What do we need to do?” Amanda heard herself saying. She hadn’t slept since the stranger who called himself Nathan had left her compartment. Not a wink. And in the hours that had passed, she had argued with herself about the insanity of the night and that awful feeling that she was actually going to try to “help” him, whatever that meant. There was no way they were going to travel in time—of that she was sure. But she thought if she let him do whatever he thought he needed to do—hold her hand when they reached Wenatchee or whatever he thought might work—then he might see that his delusion was just that. And perhaps she could help him when they reached Seattle—get to a shelter, a mental health agency or a hospital. She wasn’t sure what she could do to help, but he had some sort of mysterious rugged man persona mixed with little boy lost appeal that would not let her turn away. She normally didn’t go for the lone-wolf types, but she sensed he was alone by circumstance, not by choice.

Nathan stepped back to let her enter the compartment. The expression on his face was hopeful, and she felt bad about possibly misleading him. She sat down on one seat, and he took the opposite.

“Now, wait, Nathan. I don’t believe in time travel, but I’m willing to do what you think you need to help you see that it isn’t possible. When...if...that fails, then I want you to promise me that you’ll let me help you when we get to Seattle. I really think you need help.”

Nathan’s lips twitched, and Amanda could have sworn he was actually chuckling.

“You’re not laughing at me, are you? Because I’m not the one who’s...” She bit her lip.

“Who is crazy?” Nathan finished with a broad smile. “No, you are not crazy, Amanda. Nor do I think I am. However, that remains to be seen.”

“Okay, what do we need to do?” Amanda asked. “And don’t come up with anything more intimate than hold hands, because that’s not going to happen.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

Nathan dropped his eyes to the ground for a moment before raising them to her face. Though she couldn’t see his cheeks because of the beard, she thought he might be blushing. For a down-and-out guy, he certainly had a boyish charm that was hard to resist. She was surprised some soft-hearted woman hadn’t picked him up before now and taken him home.

“I would not presume so,” he said. “Of course, you have good reason to distrust me after our initial forceful encounter.” He shook his head. “I am loath to do exactly as we did before lest I lose you again, or you travel in time without me, although that would not pose too many problems. My grandfather would welcome you, and I had already provided for you in my will so you would not need for anything.”

Amanda’s eyes widened. “Your will?”

“Well, yes, my dear, we were only days short of our wedding when we disappeared.”

She stared hard at him. He was so sure about his story, so much in love with the woman in his imagination. Maybe he had once truly been in love, and had lost her. Maybe the heartbreak had unhinged him. And maybe her name really had been Amanda. That seemed an unlikely coincidence. How had he discovered her name anyway? She hadn’t had a chance to ask, although she wasn’t sure she’d get a logical answer since he actually believed he knew her.

“What you and I were instructed to do was to hold hands while we fell asleep sometime before Wenatchee,” Nathan continued. “The consensus among the women who had traveled before was approximately fifteen minutes prior to arrival in Wenatchee, although the timing is not an exact science. Mrs. Stephen Sadler...Dani...has traveled it many times to visit her mother. The travel simply occurred at her whim.”

“No time machine? Or a talisman of some sort? That would’ve been easier,” Amanda muttered. “I can’t just fall asleep on a moment’s notice, and I don’t think I can sleep tonight anyway.”

“If that is the case, then I imagine we will proceed on to Seattle,” Nathan smiled wryly.

“Good,” Amanda nodded. “Then we can get you to where you need to be,” she said with satisfaction. She’d always had a soft spot for stray animals, and Nathan reminded her of one.

 

“Look, I put my bed up rather than wait for the cabin attendant to do it. I think you should come back to my compartment because the attendant will come through here at some point, and he’ll see you in here.”

Amanda rose and peeked out into the hallway but saw no one moving. She stepped across the hall and into her compartment—a mirror image of the roomette they had been in now that Amanda had pushed the bench seats back against the wall. Nathan followed her. With a shaking hand and a head that told her she was foolishly putting herself into possible danger, she locked the door behind him and pulled the curtains tight.

Aware that Nathan watched her, she said, “Not that I necessarily want to be in a locked room with you, but the attendant might decide to come through at any minute. You never know.”

“I understand,” he said softly. “I truly hope you will forgive me one day, Amanda.”

His rueful expression was hard to resist, and she believed in his sincerity...this time.

“It doesn’t seem quite like something you would do,” she said. “Not that I know you well enough to know what you would do.”

She cleared her throat and checked her watch before taking a seat.

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before we reach Wenatchee. I suppose you’d better sit next to me. We can’t exactly try to fall asleep holding hands across from each other.” She glanced at him briefly and turned away to look out the window. “Lights on or off?” Nathan shook his head. “I do not think it matters, however, as you know, I am no expert in this procedure, having failed the one time I tried it.”

“Well, let’s leave the lights on.”

Nathan nodded and sat down beside her on the narrow seat.

“May I…may I take your hand?” he asked, turning to look at her.

Amanda nodded, and he enfolded her hand in a warm grasp that brought a tingle to her toes which shot up her spine. Without understanding her reaction, she buried her hand in his as if she had done it hundreds of times before. But she hadn’t.

“Okay, what now? Just go to sleep?” A sense of urgency, an ill-defined anxiety, started nagging at her, and she couldn’t reason it away. Nothing was going to happen over the next half hour, nothing. She was just going to hold the hand of a stranger who had attacked her...and try to sleep.

“Yes, that was the prescribed formula. I know you do not believe this is possible, Amanda, but whatever you do, do not let go. Is there anything you wish to take with you? Your purse, perhaps?”

“What? My purse?” Amanda, distracted, looked at her bag and reached for it. Was he going to rob her? Wait till she fell asleep—not that she would—and steal her purse? She directed a narrow-eyed look at him and draped the thin long straps across her body with her free hand.

“Safe and sound,” she said. “Thanks for reminding me. Now sleep, right?”

Nathan nodded. “If you can.”

“You first,” Amanda said. “I’m not closing my eyes around you until you do. I’m sure you understand why.”

A corner of his lips twitched, and he nodded.

“A wise decision.” He closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat back.

Amanda watched him for a few moments. Soon, his breathing deepened, and his hold on her hand slackened. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep while holding his hand. His touch agitated her. It did not invoke thoughts of sleep. She thought about slipping out of his hold but decided against it. When he awakened later, she wanted to be able to tell him truthfully that she’d tried her best to meet the requirements for his time travel scenario.

Keeping one eye on his face, she pulled the tie from her hair and carefully slipped it over their clasped hands to loosely bind their wrists. Nathan didn’t move. Poor thing, he really did look tired.

Much to her regret, Amanda tore her eyes from his handsome face and closed them. She leaned her head back to wait for the train to stop in Wenatchee, hoping she could keep him on the train until they reached Seattle, and wondering when she had decided it was no longer a good idea for him to get off at the next station.

She took a deep breath to steady her rather ragged breathing. The anxiety coursing through her body was almost palpable, and she wondered if Nathan had felt it when he took her hand.

The rhythmic rocking of the train lulled her, and she had that strange feeling of falling off a cliff and into a haze of swirling indistinct shapes in hues of lavender, blue and gray.

****

Amanda, feeling nauseous from the spinning images, gave up on thoughts of sleep and opened her eyes. She turned to look at Nathan. His face glowed golden under the overhead light.

No, not overhead. The light came from a globed brass sconce on the wall. Amanda gasped and put her hands up to rub her eyes, forgetting that she and Nathan’s wrists were bound.

“What is wrong?” Nathan whispered suddenly near her cheek. “Did we fail?” He rose swiftly, unaware that Amanda’s hand was tied to his.

“Ouch!” she cried out. “Wait! Let me untangle us.” She pulled the hair tie off their wrists and slumped back onto the velvet bench. Her eyes felt like they were literally bulging out of their sockets as she scanned the room in a panicked frenzy.

Nathan grabbed her hand and kissed it. “You have done it!” He pulled open the mahogany door and peered out before pulling his head back in and turning back to her. “You have done it, Amanda! This car appears to be a Pullman from the early twentieth century. We are back!”

Amanda panted so fast, she thought she was going to hyperventilate and faint. She bent her head over her knees and slammed her eyes shut, willing everything to go back to normal when she opened them. This just wasn’t possible! She opened her eyes and stared at the plush maroon carpet—nothing like the dark blue industrial carpet that had been in her Superliner roomette.

“Amanda, dearest! Are you unwell? Don’t be frightened!”

She felt rather than saw Nathan kneel down in front of her. He took her cold, shaking hands in his and enveloped them in a warm clasp.

“It breaks my heart to see you suffer as you did before, Amanda, and yet I cannot prevent it. I secretly hoped that traveling in time might jog your memory, and that you would not be as frightened as you were the first time.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered against her lap. Her stomach had begun to ache from her bent-over position, but the nausea continued, and she wasn’t about to open her eyes and look up again. Her purse dangled at her side.

“I don’t know what time it is, but it is most certainly late at night. Presumably, this compartment is empty as the benches have not been made up into a bed yet.”

Amanda couldn’t resist turning her head and peeking toward the door. Just a quick glance and then she would close her eyes again until the surreal moment passed.

Yes, the shining mahogany door was still there, and the golden orb of the sconce still glowed. The carpet remained a plush maroon, and the bench on which she sat was upholstered in a green velvet fabric. Clearly, the power of suggestion was at play here. She must have somehow absorbed more of Nathan’s fantasy story than she realized, to the point of immersing herself in it.

She lifted her head to look at him.

Was it her imagination, or had he suddenly become more handsome? Was it even possible for him to be more attractive? His eyes, no longer tired and sad, had taken on a vibrant light. The creases in his forehead—worry lines she supposed—had disappeared. Under the golden light, his hair shone like the mahogany of the door. He smiled at her—a smile which had become more confident, happier. Dimples appeared in his cheeks.

“I must leave you for a moment to scout out the car. I think you could do with some water or a refreshment if I can procure one at this hour. I don’t even know where we are.” He gently released her hands and lifted the shade of the velvet-curtained window before dropping it. “It is hard to say where we are. Will you be all right, my dear? I will return as soon as possible.”

Without thinking, Amanda jumped up and grabbed one of his hands. “Oh, no. I’m coming with you,” she said. Somehow, Nathan had suddenly become the protector, not the assailant.

He turned to her and shook his head. “I don’t think that is wise, Amanda. Remember, you are not dressed as a woman might be in my time—not even for nightwear.” He looked down at her bare legs with a slight smile, and she followed his eyes.

“Wait for me! I’ll change.” She turned to scan the compartment, much larger than her tiny roomette. No bag.

“I am afraid your luggage did not come with you, Amanda. I think you would have needed to hold onto it, and I did not think to suggest it. At any rate, your clothing would still not have been suitable unless you possessed an ankle-length skirt and blouse?” His voice rose in inquiry.

Amanda shook her head. “No, I never pack heavy for these trips. Just underwear, a couple pairs of slacks, some tops, and my shower kit.”

She barely noticed Nathan’s look of surprise.

“These trips? You mentioned you had only traveled the train once before that you remembered.”

“I lied,” she said tiredly. “I didn’t want you to know too much about me. I’ve traveled to Havre, Montana, once a month for the past year. Luckily, my work is freelance and I can budget my time so I can travel.”

“What is in Havre, Montana? I was not aware you had family there.”

Amanda sighed and looked up at Nathan. “Nothing. I just travel back and forth. I don’t know why. I got the compulsion about a year ago, and I couldn’t go more than a month without booking a trip. It takes about forty-two hours if the train is running on time.”

Nathan stared at her for a long moment before his lips curved into a gentle smile. He squeezed the hand he still held.

“You have been looking for me,” he said in a husky voice. “Somewhere, in the depths of your heart, you must have remembered me...our love.”

Amanda shook her head and pulled her hand from his. “I don’t. I’m sorry. I don’t.”

Nathan nodded and touched the tip of your nose. “Perhaps you will some day. For now, I must explore and you must stay in here. Lock the door behind me and do not let anyone else enter.”

“Am I in danger?” Amanda asked, her overworked heart beginning to race anew.

“No, not from physical harm, but I am certain we do not have tickets for this train, and the conductor will want to know why.”

Amanda nodded, not at all reassured. Nathan opened the door and slipped through, and she locked the door behind him before turning to study the room at length. A warm, elegant room, she had the feeling this wasn’t a regular sleeper. Mahogany paneling lined the room and several other brass sconces lined the walls. Matching settees of the lovely green velvet faced each other, and she assumed they also folded down into a bed. There was no evidence of an upper drop-down bunk.

She lifted the shade and peeked out the window. It was still dark outside, but she could just make out small hills in the distance by highlighted by a half moon. No particular landmarks were recognizable to her in the dark.

She sank down on the settee and opened her purse to check its contents, thinking that had never mattered more than it did now. Wallet with driver’s license, some cash, debit and credit cards. A small brush and lipstick. Car keys. That was about it. Nothing that would fix the predicament she was in. Certainly not a guidebook to tell her how to get back to the twenty-first century, or how to thrust herself out of a fantasy and into reality if that is what had happened.

What time was it? She realized she didn’t have her mobile phone. She’d left it on the window ledge of her roomette. If she had really traveled to 1906, the phone wouldn’t have been much use without cell towers, but she was really going to miss it.

She scanned the compartment again. Everything seemed so real! Maybe Nathan wasn’t crazy after all. If anything, maybe she was. She eyed the luxurious room from the scrollwork on the gleaming walls to the Oriental carpet. No, she couldn’t have imagined this, not even with the power of suggestion.

If she had really traveled in time, would anyone at home miss her?

Her parents had both passed away. She had no brothers or sisters. She had a few cousins on her mother’s side, but they lived in California, and she received only an annual Christmas card from them. Her parents had been very casual about keeping in touch with relatives. She had finished a staging job last week and had nothing lined up. She supposed if any jobs came her way and she didn’t respond, her clients would move on to the next stager.

She had some online friends who would probably wonder where she’d gone, but she’d never met any of them in person. It might take them a while to realize she’d vanished. She was between boyfriends, or so she hoped. At least, she hoped there was still a chance she would meet Mr. Right—that her previous relationship, Leland, wasn’t the last chance she would ever have at finding love.

Then, she traveled in time, supposedly, and met Nathan, who said they were in love and were to be married!

The door opened just then and Nathan slipped back in carrying a glass of water. He put his fingers to his lips and closed the door silently behind him before handing her the glass.

“I would not believe it could be possible, but I think the conductor is up and about at this hour. I fear I was seen.”

Amanda eyed the water with concern and surreptitiously put it on a side table while Nathan pulled aside the curtain on the door’s window and peered out. Was the water even treated?

“What’s the worst they can do to us?” she asked. “Make us pay, right?”

Nathan dropped the curtain and turned to eye her with a rueful expression.

“I don’t know. I cannot say that I have ever ridden a passenger train in my time without purchasing a ticket.”

Despite Amanda’s best efforts to block Nathan’s view, he saw the glass of water.

“You are not thirsty?”

“Me? Oh, no, I’m fine. Thank you for the water though.” What did they drink in these days anyway? To hydrate safely. What had she read? Wine? Beer? Oh, gosh, she’d be a lush before she managed to get back to her time. Which she fully intended to do.

“I don’t think it is wise for me to attempt to procure you some tea which I know you enjoy.”

“I do?” Amanda said. “I don’t drink tea.” She bit her lip. Well, maybe she did if the alternative was untreated water. “Oh, maybe I do,” she murmured. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

Nathan held a finger to his lips again, and a loud knock sounded on the door. He grimaced and stepped back.

“You in there, sir! Come out! This is the conductor,” a loud voice boomed from the hallway.

Amanda jumped up. Conductors in her day didn’t shout at the doors of sleeping compartments. Her palms broke out in a sweat. She felt distinctly like a criminal. Were they going to be arrested or something?

“Open the door, man. I know you’re in there. I saw you enter. This compartment is vacant.”

Nathan turned to her with a wry smile and shook his head.

“I’m afraid we have little choice, Amanda,” Nathan said in a low voice. “Short of engaging in a public spectacle, I think I must open the door. Here, take my coat. It is long enough to cover you.”

“Just a moment,” Nathan called out.

He shrugged out of his dark coat and draped it around her shoulders where it hung warm and heavy. Amanda slipped her arms through the sleeves to find the cuffs fell way below her hands The coat reached to her shins.

“I look as indigent as you now,” she whispered. “Well, let him in.”

Nathan unlocked the door and pulled it open.

The conductor, a tall burly man whose booming voice matched his frame, stepped in, leaving the door open behind him. He scanned them from head to toe, studying their clothing with raised brows. He nodded a greeting in her direction, barely, but she sensed he didn’t think much of her and didn’t think she belonged in the luxurious sleeping compartment.

“Let me see your tickets, please. I have no one assigned to this compartment.”

Amanda looked to Nathan.

“I am afraid we have no tickets, Conductor. There is no point in lying. We boarded the train in Spokane.”

“Without purchasing tickets? You can’t do that in the sleeping compartments. You must buy tickets in advance.”

Nathan nodded. “Yes, I know. I apologize.”

“Well, you and your wife have to get off at the next stop.”

“Get off?” Amanda said. “Wait! I have money. I can pay now.” She stuck her hand inside her purse. Nathan laid a restraining hand on her and she turned to stare at him.

“No, I am sorry. My...er...wife is mistaken. She does not have any money after all. I am afraid I spent it yesterday, dear, on our hotel.”

“What? No, I do—”

Nathan’s hand tightened on hers. “And I am afraid I also do not have funds to cover the costs of the sleeper or indeed of any ticket, even in tourist class. However, I can rectify that once we reach Seattle. I would be happy to reimburse the train company.”

The conductor shook his head, clearly believing neither one of them.

“No, I’m sorry, that won’t be possible. You must detrain in Wenatchee.”

“Wenatchee? But I thought we had passed Wenatchee,” Nathan said. He threw a surprised look in Amanda’s direction.

“No, sir—” The conductor caught himself. “No, not yet. We should arrive in a few minutes. If you would follow me.” He scanned the room behind them. “No luggage?”

That was the death toll as far as Amanda was concerned. There was no way now to convince him that they weren’t vagabonds without luggage.

“No,” Nathan replied shortly. He stood back to allow Amanda to precede him while the conductor waited in the hallway.

Waiting until the conductor turned his back to lead the way, Amanda hissed under her breath, “Why did you stop me from giving him some money?”

“We cannot offer them money. Your currency is printed in the future, as is the money in my pocket,” he whispered.

The conductor stopped at the end of the car just as the train slowed. He opened the back door, and Amanda wondered if he were going to toss them from the train. She grabbed Nathan’s hand and hung on.

But the conductor simply leaned over the edge of the train and waved toward the front as if to signal the engineer when to stop. The train came to a halt with a screech of the wheels, and the conductor turned to them.

“Because your wife is present, sir, I will hold my tongue, but don’t let me see you on the train again without a proper ticket. And if you know what’s good for you, I suggest you avoid the train altogether for a while. I will alert the authorities next time, and you will be arrested. Both of you.”

Amanda clamped her mouth shut, aware that her jaw had dropped open at the severity of his words. She looked up to see Nathan nod though his eyes narrowed. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking given that the beard often hid his expressions.

The conductor turned away and opened the door of the sleeping car before stepping back.

“Off you go then. See to it you don’t try this again, you two.”

“Your customer service skills stink,” Amanda muttered as she allowed Nathan to help her down to the wooden platform of the station.

“What’s that?” the conductor asked in a prickly tone. He took two steps down the stairs, and Nathan snatched Amanda away from him as if he meant to boot her.

“No need for that, Conductor. My wife is tired and overwrought. Thank you for not turning us over to the authorities.”

Amanda snorted.

“Stop aggravating him, my love. He can still call the authorities,” Nathan hissed. He nodded toward the conductor and pulled Amanda away toward the station.

“Where are we going?” Amanda asked. A delightfully sweet smell filled the air, surprising given the strong smell of coal emanating from the smoke stacks on the train. “What is that smell?” she asked.

“Apples. Boxes and boxes of apples awaiting shipment,” Nathan replied, nodding toward wooden crates stacked on the edge of the platform which were barely visible under the faint light from the station.

“The apple capital of the United States!” Amanda chirped. She remembered Wenatchee had styled itself as such.

“And we shall see ourselves picking apples on a chain gang if I do not convince the station agent to allow me to telegraph for funds without actually paying for the telegram.”