Chapter Four
Leigh opened one heavy eyelid and then the other to see rose-and-blue wallpaper. Warm light filtered in through the rose-colored curtains, as if the hour was late.
She pushed a gray blanket off her legs and crawled out of the bed. Still wearing her jeans and pink cotton blouse, she remembered falling asleep while sitting on the bed. Sometime later, she had heard two voices speaking, probably Mrs. Jackson and Jeremiah as they laid her down and covered her up.
Leigh’s cheeks heated at the thought of Jeremiah tucking her into bed. She looked down at the floor to see her shoes. The light coming through the window attracted her, and she crossed the room to look out the window.
Leigh’s eyes widened at the view. Gone was the thick forest that she strolled through, fronting the lake. Jeremiah’s house overlooked a dirt road and beyond that, Lake Kaskade. The bedroom window appeared to be at the front of the house.
She reached for the latch, unhooked it and pushed the window open. Breathing in a deep gulp of air, she winced. Gone too was the sweet smell of pine trees, replaced now by a stronger scent. Leigh thought she smelled firewood and something reminiscent of cut lumber.
A high-pitched whine caught her ears, and she wondered about the sound. She closed the window and turned around. An urgent need reminded her that while she had admired the retro bathroom, she hadn’t actually used it.
She opened the bedroom door and peered out into the hallway. The coast was clear, and she hurried down to the bathroom. When she finished, she washed her hands and face with the cold tap water and looked at herself in the mirror.
Her shoulder-length reddish-brown hair, which had been twisted up into a tidy knot near the crown of her head, now hung in a lopsided lump of frizz at the side of her neck. She looked as if she hadn’t brushed her hair in a month. She pulled the band from her hair, grabbed up some water and ran wet fingers through the strands to straighten it. Tying it back up into a knot again, she contemplated the fact that she didn’t even have a hairbrush and had no idea where to find a store to buy one...or the money to do that buying.
The bathroom swam before Leigh’s eyes, and she grabbed the edge of the sink for support. Not since Sam’s death had she needed to breathe so deeply to stave off rising anxiety.
“One hour at a time, Leigh,” she whispered to herself. “One day at a time. You can do this. It’s just a year. Think of it as an adventure. You can go back. They said you can go back in a year.”
She turned the tap back on, patted her face with cold water and dried her cheeks. Breathing in deeply through her nose, Leigh opened the bathroom door. Mrs. Jackson awaited her down the hall by her bedroom door.
“Good morning, Mrs. Peters. I have brought that clothing for you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jackson. Please call me Leigh.” She opened the door and let the housekeeper precede her into the room.
“Leigh then,” Mrs. Jackson said.
Leigh noticed that the housekeeper didn’t give her first name, which was just as well. Leigh didn’t think she would have felt comfortable calling the older woman something less formal.
Mrs. Jackson laid out an armful of clothing onto the bed before turning to face Leigh with a rueful smile.
“I assume you will not know how to wear this clothing. Miss Meadows didn’t know how to dress when she arrived.”
Mrs. Jackson’s smile drooped, and Leigh wondered why.
“You mentioned her last night. So she chose to go back?”
“Yes, Tanya returned to the future. We thought she might stay, but when summer came, she told Doctor she just couldn’t live in such ‘primitive conditions,’ and she left.”
“You seem sad, Mrs. Jackson. Were you attached to her?”
“Attached?” She didn’t seem to understand the term. “I was very fond of her. She and Dr. Cook—” She pressed her lips together, as if she should stop talking.
“Oh!” Leigh murmured, stifling an odd sense of irritation. “So he was attached to her?”
“He hoped to marry her.”
“I’m so sorry,” Leigh murmured. “For some reason, I thought he was a confirmed bachelor or something.”
Mrs. Jackson tilted her head. “What an old-fashioned term! Confirmed bachelor. Still, it’s very apt. I think he is now. I really shouldn’t talk about his personal life though.”
“I understand,” Leigh said. She turned to look at the clothing, but still wondering about the handsome doctor. “What have we here?”
“Some undergarments, a dress, and a pair of shoes, which I hope will fit you.”
“This is really necessary, isn’t it?” Leigh said doubtfully as she scanned the mound of clothing.
“Yes, I’m sorry, it is. I know your denim jeans are much more comfortable, but they really are simply too snug to be thought decent in 1908.”
Leigh nodded. “I could use your help. I have no idea what goes where.”
She retrieved a white linen shift and what looked like a pair of white bloomers.
“You can undress and start with the chemise and drawers.”
Leigh unbuttoned her cotton blouse and slipped out of it. She discarded her jeans and stood in her comfortable stretchy bra and panties. High school swim team had rid her of any bashfulness about undressing in front of females. She hesitated.
“I can skip those drawers, can’t I, Mrs. Jackson? As you can see, we wear very different clothing in my time.”
Mrs. Jackson smiled benignly.
“I am aware. Tanya arrived in clothing much like yours. She didn’t want to wear these undergarments either, but after about three days of washing out her things every night in the bathroom sink, she gave in.”
For some perverse reason, Leigh wanted to do things differently than Tanya had. She didn’t want to remind anyone of the woman.
“I can see your point. Sure, I’ll wear the drawers and chemise.” She slipped out of her familiar underwear and stepped into the drawers. Once on, she felt Mrs. Jackson at her lower back, buttoning the loose-fitting garment.
“I prefer the closed drawers, but you may choose open drawers when you get your own clothing.”
“Open?”
“Yes, open, to make it easier to relieve yourself.”
“Oh! No, I think I’ll go with the closed drawers myself.” Leigh picked up the chemise and slipped it over her head, allowing the straps to fall to her shoulders. It fell to just below her knees, as did the hem of the drawers.
“What now?”
“Corset,” Mrs. Jackson said, folding an elongated corset around Leigh’s waist.
“Hold your breath,” the housekeeper said as she pulled the garment closed and hooked clasps running from just below Leigh’s breasts to her groin. Mrs. Jackson pulled ribbons at the top and tied them in a bow.
“What are those straps?” Leigh pointed to four straps hanging from the bottom hem of the corset. She attempted to bend to look at them but found herself encased in an upright position.
“Hose supporters,” she said. “And here is a pair of hose.” She produced two beige cotton ribbed stockings. “You’ll want to slip these on before we get too much further.”
“There’s more?” Leigh panted, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a grunt as the corset failed to give. She tried to bend down to pull the stockings on, but struggled.
“Let me help. You’ll get used to it soon enough,” Mrs. Jackson said. She pulled the hose over Leigh’s feet and up her legs, reminding Leigh of being dressed as a child by her mother.
“Stand up and let me hook them.”
Leigh complied, and Mrs. Jackson hooked the stockings onto the straps of the corset.
“Now, the corset cover and a petticoat,” she said, reaching for still more white clothing.
“A corset cover? Is there no end to this clothing?”
“I know there will be someday, but for now, no, there is no end to it. Men are so much luckier than we are.”
Leigh slipped into a soft sleeveless half top that tied at the waist. Then Mrs. Jackson dropped a full-length petticoat over her head and tied that at the waist as well. The petticoat, with minimal ruffles, fell to her ankles.
“And now, the dress. It’s just a plain blue-and-white checked percale housedress, but I don’t really have any fancy clothing. It’s a one piece, so you won’t have to fuss with a waist and skirt today.”
Mrs. Jackson held the dress above Leigh’s head, and she slipped her arms through three-quarter sleeves and let the dress fall to her ankles in a generous A-line shape.
“What a pretty dress!” Leigh exclaimed, running her hand over the finely woven cotton. “What is a waist? Don’t I have a bunch of stuff over my waist as it is?”
“A waist is a shirtwaist. A blouse, I think you might call it. We wear them with skirts.”
“Oh, I see. Look, I can button myself!” Leigh smiled as she fastened little pearl buttons from the square neck down to her upper thighs.
“Here is the belt that goes with it.”
“So there is something more that goes around my waist! No wonder you all wear corsets. You probably know that in my time, we don’t wear most of this clothing anymore, though I recall that my grandmother wore a girdle with straps like these that kept her stockings up.”
“You are almost done! Here is a pair of shoes.”
Leigh stepped into a pair of black pumps with a small heel.
“They fit!” Leigh said with relief. “But I guess I could have worn my athletic shoes under these skirts, couldn’t I? Since I’m probably not really going to be a secret around town.”
“Well, the truth is, you are going to be a bit of a secret, Leigh. Not everyone knows about the time travelers. Some folks just wouldn’t understand.”
Leigh looked up from admiring the shoes.
“Really? How many people know?”
“The doctor, me, the few people who have chosen to stay with us, their spouses, and a handful of others.”
“But why keep this...phenomenon...a secret from others?”
Mrs. Jackson shrugged. “The mayor, who does know, doesn’t want anyone to hear that the town disappears.”
“That it appears and disappears on the summer solstice?”
“No, that is disappears forever.”
“Oh, that’s right. It is gone. I didn’t even know there had been a town here.”
“That’s what the mayor is worried about—that people will give up on Kaskade, knowing that it has no future.”
Leigh saw the housekeeper’s shoulders sag.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jackson,” she murmured. “When does the town...vanish? I really regret that I didn’t know of its existence before and didn’t do any research.”
“Matthew—that’s the young man who stayed with us and was hoping to return—had been interested in Kaskade before he came to us. He said that Kaskade was burned down in 1921 with plans to flood it for a reservoir for power in Tacoma. It was never flooded as planned, but still it was destroyed.”
“What a pity,” Leigh said. “It is a lovely area, and I walk it often, but I didn’t realize I was walking on a ghost town.”
Mrs. Jackson shuddered. “A ghost town? Oh, dear no, don’t call it that. I prefer to think of Kaskade as a town lost in time, a town that wants to survive and doesn’t know how.”
Leigh’s throat tightened, and she dashed at tears forming in her eyes.
“Oh, Mrs. Jackson... How sad.”
The housekeeper cleared her throat and shook herself. “Enough of that now. Let’s do something with your hair. Sit down here at the dressing table.”
Leigh, who thought she’d “done something with her hair,” sat down on a dainty tapestry bench in front of a lovely antique—yet new—cherrywood dressing table with an oval mirror. Mrs. Jackson removed the band from Leigh’s bun and picked up a silver-backed hairbrush.
“I used to brush Tanya’s hair for her,” she murmured. “She had such fine blonde hair. Your hair is a bit thicker and longer.”
“I can brush it!” Leigh responded, feeling a bit disadvantaged at the housekeeper’s fond reminiscence. “I know it’s difficult to manage.”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Jackson said. “You have lovely red-gold curls mixed in with the brown. I was a brunette myself before my hair turned gray.”
Leigh observed the small woman in the mirror, noting that the silver hair pulled back into a bun at the crown still showed some chocolate strands. Pale-blue eyes smiled at her kindly as she twisted Leigh’s hair on top of her head before reaching for some pins on the dressing table to secure the bun. She pulled a few curls loose to drape around Leigh’s cheeks, then patted her on the shoulders.
“All done,” she said.
“Do you have children, Mrs. Jackson?” Leigh asked, pivoting on the stool to look at the housekeeper.
“No, I was not so fortunate. My husband died in a logging accident shortly after we married.”
“I’m so sorry,” Leigh said. “You never remarried?”
Mrs. Jackson shook her head. “No, I came here to take care of Jeremiah and then stayed on as housekeeper. After my youth, I had no time for romance, nor did I want any.”
Leigh smiled but said nothing further.
“And you, Leigh? You were widowed at a young age too. Will you remarry?”
Leigh shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.
“I don’t think I want to love someone like that again. It’s too painful to lose them.”
Mrs. Jackson frowned and nodded. “Yes, I agree with you.”
The women shared an empathetic smile, and Leigh rose.
“What should I do with myself now? Can I help you in the kitchen? Or with some household chores?”
“Right now, the doctor is waiting to have breakfast with you. I’ll take you down to the dining room. You can have coffee while I gather up breakfast.”
“Mrs. Jackson! I was keeping you from your duties. I’m so sorry!”
“Nonsense, my dear. You are Dr. Cook’s guest. Of course I would take care of you. We don’t have any extra help, so I do all the work. Doctor isn’t much trouble at all.”
“But this is such a big house! How do you manage?”
“It’s my job, and I’m grateful for it. There are women who’ve lost their husbands who aren’t so lucky to have room, board and wages.”
Leigh followed her to the door. “You probably have heard that in my time, Social Security usually pays widows a little bit of money. Not enough to live on, but every little bit helps.”
“I did hear about that fund from Matthew. That sort of thing would be very helpful for these women and children right now.”
“I know.”
They descended the narrow wooden staircase. Leigh caught up a handful of her dress to maneuver the stairs, but the skirt style clung to her hips and waist, leaving little extra material to hike. She maneuvered the stairs carefully.
Upon reaching the foyer, Leigh followed Mrs. Jackson down the hall toward the kitchen. She reached an open door on the right and stopped there.
“Here she is, Dr. Cook.”
Leigh swallowed hard, suddenly nervous about seeing Jeremiah in the light of day. Mrs. Jackson vanished toward the kitchen, and Leigh stepped into a lovely room done in shades of green, from the leaf-patterned cream wallpaper to the curtains at the windows. A white linen tablecloth covered an oval table.
Jeremiah folded a newspaper and rose. He blinked when he saw her, and Leigh dropped her eyes to her dress to focus on smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle. From under her eyelashes, she saw him pull out a green tapestry cushioned hardback chair for her.
“If I am not mistaken, Mrs. Jackson has lent you one of her best dresses. That was very kind of her. It looks very well on you.”
Leigh looked up with warm cheeks and slipped into the chair he stood beside.
“Thank you.”
“The blue matches your eyes.”
Leigh’s blush burned. She looked down at the dress again, studying the Tiffany blue–checked pattern.
“I guess it does. I didn’t realize that. You’re right. Mrs. Jackson was very generous both in loaning me the dress and helping me figure out how to put it on.”
“Yes, I imagined she would be. She has done this before.”
Jeremiah lifted a silver urn and poured out a cup of coffee for her.
“Done what?”
“Help our newcomers adapt to historical dress and customs.”
“Yes, she mentioned a Matthew last night.”
“Among others, yes.”
Leigh didn’t understand why she pressed the issue, but she did. She didn’t want to hear about the woman Tanya, who had seemingly broken the doctor’s heart.
“Others? Like whom?”
Jeremiah drew in a deep breath and regarded her with a somber expression in his blue eyes.
“Your question seems very pointed. I would hazard a guess that Mrs. Jackson has been talking. You are asking about Tanya Meadows, I presume?”