Chapter Six
Leigh resisted the urge to hitch up her skirts as she followed Jeremiah down the road, passing other large houses along the way. The size of the houses dwindled to small one-story cottages after they turned down a road leading away from the lake.
A wagon pulled by two horses rumbled down the road in their direction, and Leigh was happy to follow Jeremiah onto a wooden, albeit uneven, boardwalk. Ahead, several two-story false-fronted buildings lined both sides of the road, mixed in with smaller houses and cottages. Signs dangled over the front of the buildings, indicating they were a general mercantile, pool hall, market and hotel.
A few people could be seen in front of some of the structures.
“Good morning, Jack!” Jeremiah called out to the old man driving the wagon.
Leigh thought she recognized the man who had dropped Jeremiah off the night before in front of his house.
Jack, a thin man with a white beard and matching shoulder-length hair under a broad-brimmed hat, raised a hand but said nothing as he moved by.
“I saw him last night, didn’t I?” Leigh asked.
“Yes. He gave me a ride back from the logging camp in the hills.”
“So this is downtown Kaskade?” she asked, nodding toward the buildings.
“Yes. If Kaskade has a downtown, this is it,” he said with a smile. “Mind the loose board,” he said, pointing toward a worn strip of wood on the walkway. “I’ve tripped over it more than once. I’ve told the mayor, but it hasn’t been fixed yet.”
Leigh stepped over the board and continued to follow him. As they neared the pool hall, several hatted and bearded men leaned against a wall. Their weathered faces and soiled clothing suggested they worked outside quite a bit.
“Good day, George, Allan. Not open yet, eh?” Jeremiah asked them, raising a hand to his derby in greeting.
“Not till noon, Doc,” one of them said, eyeing Leigh with interest. “You know the law. Who’s this?”
Jeremiah paused, and Leigh sensed it was with reluctance. She eyed the pool hall with interest, suspecting it was also a bar.
“This is Mrs. Leigh Peters. She is new to town and will be assisting me in my office. Mrs. Peters, this is George Carson and Allan Carson. They work in the timber mill.”
Leigh nodded but said nothing. She hadn’t realized there was a timber mill about but remembered the loud sound she had heard the day before. Of course there was a mill. She was still in the Pacific Northwest, land of copious fertile fir trees.
Both men appeared to be in their forties. Their bent bony bodies, gnarled hands and tired eyes looked as if they worked hard and could stand to eat more calories.
“How do ya do, Mrs. Peters?” the speaker asked with a finger to his sweat-stained brown felt hat. “Welcome to Kaskade.”
The other man merely nodded and thrust his hands in his jacket pockets. He looked cold, though the day was pleasant at about seventy-five degrees.
“Thank you,” she finally said.
“Well, we have to be off. Take care, boys, and get something to eat before the pool hall opens. Martha over at the boardinghouse probably has some food left over from breakfast. She usually does.”
“Thanks, Doc. We stopped by Martha’s earlier. She had some extra bread and cheese she gave us.”
“Good to hear,” Jeremiah said. He took Leigh’s arm and gently propelled her away down the boardwalk. She looked over her shoulder at the two men leaning against the pool hall walls.
“Is the pool hall a bar?”
Jeremiah nodded. “Yes. They do serve ale there. George and Allan spend every spare cent they have on drink at the expense of food and board. They live in a lean-to in the hills. I fear they will not have long lives.”
“And Martha is the one who runs a boardinghouse?”
“Yes. She is a generous woman who gives handouts to those in need. In fact, we are on our way to see one of her lodgers.”
They passed the mercantile as they talked, and Leigh caught a quick impression of a darkened interior with wood paneling and shelving. A number of people stood inside, the women wearing large hats like hers.
“It is not too much further,” Jeremiah said, turning off the main street toward the right. Leigh followed him down the boardwalk of another road until they came to a large two-story white-painted building. Unlike Jeremiah’s house, the exterior was plain and without charm, resembling a military barracks. Lacking a porch, wide wooden steps led up to an open doorway.
Leigh started up the stairs behind Jeremiah and tripped on the hem of her dress. She disentangled herself, then grabbed up a handful of the material. Looking up, she saw Jeremiah extending his hand to help her.
“I’ve got a lot to learn,” she said with a sheepish smile.
“You are doing fine,” he said. He indicated she should precede him into the boardinghouse, and Leigh stepped inside. A foyer opened up to a hallway and a wooden staircase leading to the second floor. A serviceable plain dark-red carpet covered the hardwood floor.
“Martha?” Jeremiah called out.
A blonde woman in her early thirties came hurrying out of the kitchen, and Leigh’s jaw almost dropped. Beautifully Nordic in coloring, her translucent skin shone against a crystal-blue gingham dress that matched her eyes. Platinum-blonde hair was pulled back into a severe bun, but her warm smile dispelled any austere look.
“Jeremiah!” she called out, wiping her hands on a dainty white apron. She held them out to Jeremiah, and he clasped them. “Have you come to look in on Mrs. Moorehead?”
Leigh tried to look away from their conjoined hands. She saw no wedding ring on Martha’s hand, but that meant nothing.
“I have, Martha. This is Mrs. Leigh Peters. Leigh, this is Miss Martha Lundrum. Leigh came to us yesterday.”
Martha’s blonde eyebrows lifted, and she looked from Jeremiah to Leigh. “Oh! The summer solstice. Then you are—” She bit her lip and looked over her shoulder.
“She is,” Jeremiah said. He leaned in to Leigh to whisper. “Martha is one of the small handful of people who know. Several of our visitors have boarded with her.”
Leigh nodded and returned her gaze to Martha’s perfectly proportioned face. Only her hourglass figure had better proportions. For some reason, Leigh was disappointed to hear her introduced as a “miss.” Presumably there was no husband.
“Hello,” Leigh said.
Martha took her hands and enclosed them in her own. Leigh had to admit she felt instantly nurtured in Martha’s grasp.
“Welcome. What a lovely addition you will be to our little town!”
Leigh returned Martha’s glowing smile. “Thank you. It’s been a shock, as you can imagine.”
“I have heard,” Martha said. Just then feet clattered on the stairs, and a fresh-faced young woman appeared. Brunette with brown eyes, she wore an ivory muslin blouse and brown percale skirt. Martha eyed Leigh and put several discreet fingers to her lips.
“Good morning, Mary! Here is Dr. Cook to look in on your mother! How is she this morning?”
“Very well,” Mary replied with a wide smile and a blushing look in Jeremiah’s direction. Leigh was beginning to notice a pattern in female reactions to the handsome doctor. “Good morning, Miss Lundrum, Dr. Cook.” The twenty-something woman looked at Leigh curiously.
“This is Mrs. Leigh Peters,” Jeremiah announced. “She is new to Kaskade and will be working for me. Mrs. Peters, this is Miss Mary Woodhouse. She lives with her mother.”
“Oh! How nice,” Mary said. “Are you a nurse?”
“No,” Leigh replied, turning to the doctor. “I’ll be—” She stopped, unsure of what to say.
“Mrs. Peters will be greeting patients, scheduling appointments, taking care of my books. Though I could use a good nurse. Have you thought more about attending nursing school in Tacoma, Mary?”
“I have, Dr. Cook, but I can’t leave my mother right now.” Her bright-brown eyes clouded over.
“I understand,” he said. “I will just go upstairs and see her. Why don’t you come with me, and we will let Mrs. Peters and Miss Lundrum visit?”
“All right,” Mary said, turning to climb up the stairs again.
Jeremiah gave Leigh an encouraging nod, and toting his medical bag, he followed Mary up the stairs.
“Would you care to follow me into the kitchen, Mrs. Peters?” Martha asked.
“Leigh, please,” she said, following Martha down a long hall and into a kitchen at the back of the house. A large wooden farmhouse table stood in the center of the room, with a few chairs on either end. From the pots, pans and ceramic mixing bowls, it looked like Martha used the table as a kitchen island. She moved one wooden chair down to one end of the table and set it next to another.
“Please sit down,” she said. “Would you like some coffee? I have a pot freshly brewed.”
“Yes, thank you,” Leigh said, watching the tall beauty who could have been a cover model move toward a stove and pick up a blue enamel coffeepot and bring it to the table. She set it down in the middle on a cloth pad, then crossed the room to pick out two plain white ceramic cups and saucers from an open cabinet.
She set a matching ceramic bowl of sugar and a cream pitcher on the table before seating herself. Leigh declined both and accepted a cup of black coffee.
“I have a few minutes before I have to start lunch,” Martha said. “I have a few guests who cannot or will not leave the boardinghouse, so I prepare lunch for all of us.” She took a sip of coffee and set it down before placing her hand over Leigh’s.
“Tell me what happened.”
Leigh related some of the events of the previous evening, omitting hiding outside in the rain. If Jeremiah wanted to tell Martha, he was welcome to do so, but she wasn’t about to describe her embarrassing dash into the weather.
“You are so brave!” Martha exclaimed.
Leigh demurred. “No, no, not at all. I did some other foolish things when I couldn’t figure out what happened to me, but I thought I’d skip telling you about those.”
“Still, I do not know what I would do if I was suddenly transported into the future.”
“I wouldn’t either,” Leigh replied. “I only know the future I lived in.”
“Did Jeremiah or Mrs. Jackson explain how long you would be here?”
Leigh wondered again how close Jeremiah and Martha were. They would make a beautiful couple someday if marriage was in their future.
“Yes, they said I can’t return until the next summer solstice. So I’ll be here a year.”
Martha gave Leigh a sympathetic look and patted her hand.
“I know that must seem like a long time—it has to others—but I hope the time will pass quickly for you.”
“I’m sure it will,” Leigh replied. “Jeremiah is going to give me some work, so that will help. It’s not like I left a husband or children behind.”
“You are unmarried?” Martha asked, sympathy continuing to flow from her blue eyes.
Leigh felt like she was drowning in sympathy. She pulled her shoulders back, as if to help strengthen her spine. Her situation was bizarre, but not the worst thing that could happen. The worst thing that could happen had happened to Sam.
“I’m a widow. My husband died in an accident last year.”
“Oh, Leigh! I am so very sorry.”
Leigh gently eased her hand out from under Martha’s. “Thank you.”
“Do you have other family? Parents, brothers or sisters?”
Leigh shook her head. “No, my parents passed. I was an only child.”
“I see.”
Leigh thought it was time to deflect attention away from her.
“How about you, Martha? Do you have family? A husband, children, parents, siblings?”
Martha’s translucent cheeks glowed peach. “Sadly, I think it is my destiny to be an old maid. I have no husband and no children.” She shrugged with a rueful smile. “My parents too passed away, but I do have a brother, Jefferson. He is an attorney, and he lives here. I run the boardinghouse, but we both own it. Our parents left it to us.”
“That’s nice,” Leigh said. “I would have loved to have a brother or a sister.”
“He has been a blessing.”
Leigh sipped her coffee and studied the kitchen. More utilitarian than Mrs. Jackson’s kitchen, the stove appeared well used. A pile of wood sat next to it.
“It must be a lot of work to run a boardinghouse. You cook for some of them. Do you also clean their rooms and provide linen?”
Martha laughed. “Oh, goodness, no! That would be an inn. They are responsible for taking care of their own lodgings. I clean the common areas and the bathroom.”
“How many boarders do you have?”
“Twelve,” she said, “and my brother and I.”
“That’s a lot!”
“It is a large house. Some share the same room, like Mary Woodhouse and her mother, Bertha Woodhouse. Several bachelors share a room. It is less expensive that way. Kaskade has a shortage of bachelor housing.”
“We met two men this morning who apparently live in a lean-to in the hills? Is that common?”
Martha shook her head sadly. “All too common, I am afraid to say. That sort of living arrangement is tenable in the summer when the weather is mild, but it is far too wet and cold in the fall, winter and spring. Do you remember their names?”
“I think Jeremiah called them George and Allan? I’m afraid I can’t remember their last names.”
Martha nodded. “Carson. George and Allan Carson. They are brothers. From what I gather, they spend all their money at the pool hall and therefore cannot afford any sort of lodging at all. Hence, the lean-to. Some townspeople take pity on them and offer food when they can.”
“Oh, that’s right! You gave them some food this morning. They said you did.”
Martha dropped her eyes to her coffee. “I do what I can.”
“I know they were very appreciative.”
“Where did you meet them?”
“Leaning on the wall of the pool hall, waiting for it to open at noon.”
Martha shook her head again. “Such a pity.”
“Jeremiah did encourage them to eat.”
“Yes, he would,” Martha murmured. “He is such a good doctor.”
“Have you known him long?” Leigh asked with a wince. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
“All my life,” she said. “Before my parents bought the boardinghouse, we lived next to Jeremiah, albeit in a much smaller cottage. He and my brother were close—they still are—and they allowed me to play with them upon occasion.”
Leigh wanted to ask about Tanya, but she wasn’t sure how Martha would react to gossiping about Jeremiah’s love life, so she bit back the question.
Footsteps approached from the direction of the hallway, and Leigh heard a wonderfully deep baritone before she saw the speaker. A tall, well-dressed blond man entered the room.
“Martha, my dear. Do you have some coffee ready?”
The man stopped short, and Leigh suspected she was looking at Martha’s brother, Jefferson Lundrum. They looked like twins. Jefferson was as handsome as Martha was beautiful. His gleaming hair was well-groomed and neatly combed to the side. He wore no facial hair other than longish sideburns. His black-and-gray pinstriped worsted suit flattered his pale skin and long, lean figure. He carried a dark gray derby in one hand.
“Oh, hello!” the newcomer said, looking at Leigh. “Forgive me. I did not realize that Martha had company.” He looked at his sister.
“Jefferson, this is Mrs. Leigh Peters. Leigh, this is my brother, Jefferson Lundrum. Leigh is new to us here in Kaskade. Yesterday was the summer solstice.” She quirked an eyebrow at her brother before rising to get another cup and saucer.
“Do you mean—” Jefferson didn’t finish.
Leigh’s cheeks burned. It seemed as if strangers knew more about her than she did herself.
Martha returned to the table and set the cup and saucer down next to her and across from Leigh. Jefferson pulled up a chair and sat while his sister poured coffee. Martha topped off Leigh’s cup while responding with a whisper.
“Yes, Leigh is from the year 2018.”
“My goodness!” Jefferson exclaimed. He appeared to be about thirty. “Well, welcome!” His crystal-blue eyes twinkled with interest as he looked at her. Leigh couldn’t help but bask under his flattering interest.
“Thank you,” Leigh said. “I just...arrived last night, so I’m still shell-shocked.”
“I can imagine,” he said. “My sister introduced you as Mrs. Peters. Did you leave a family behind?”
“We were just discussing that, Jefferson. Leigh was widowed only last year.”
“My condolences,” Jefferson said with a frown. “Such a pity.”
“Thank you,” Leigh said.
“Are you from Washington State?” he asked.
“Yes, I live in Orting...lived in Orting.”
“And will you be staying here at the boardinghouse with us? I thought you were full, Martha. Surely we can find room for Mrs. Peters.”
“Leigh, please. No, I’m staying at Dr. Cook’s house.”
“Dr. Cook’s house?” Jefferson looked at his sister. “Didn’t Tan—”
Leigh saw Martha shake her head in her brother’s direction.
“I do know about Tanya,” Leigh said.
“Oh! I am surprised Jeremiah told you about her,” Martha murmured. “Then you know that she too stayed at Jeremiah’s house.”
Leigh nodded. “Yes, I did know that, but it was Mrs. Jackson who told me about Tanya. I’m in the room she had.”
“Tanya was a nurse. She worked closely with Jeremiah. He valued her greatly.”
“I didn’t know she was a nurse,” Leigh murmured.
“I think they were engaged to be married,” Jefferson said, looking at his sister. “But she returned to her time, didn’t she, Martha? She did not simply move away, did she?”
Martha expelled a sigh and shook her head.
“No, I do not believe they were officially engaged, but Jeremiah was on the verge of proposing. Whether he did or not, I cannot say.” She turned to her brother. “She returned to her time. I think the year was 2016, though I cannot remember precisely.”
Leigh’s cheeks burned, but she wasn’t really sure why. She felt a bit like an inadequate replacement. Not only was she not a nurse, she couldn’t even handle an examination room.
She glanced at Jefferson, wishing that they had an available room in the boardinghouse. Staying with the good doctor had gotten a lot more complicated.