Warrensburg, Missouri – Present Day
D aylight streaming through the window made Lizzie squint. Her emotions were spent. She’d apparently fallen asleep on the settee. Lizzie stretched. Her eyes flew open. She shot up into a sitting position and looked around. The quilt was still covering her, but she wasn’t in the sitting room any more.
“Grandma Mullane? Grandma Bader?” Lizzie hopped out of bed and ran to the living room.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Grandma Mullane asked.
They were both watching TV.
“You’re both here.” Lizzie blinked several times.
“Of course, we’re here.” Grandma Bader glanced at her. “Don’t worry about lunch. I made us soup and sandwiches.”
“Lunch?” Lizzie was confused.
“Yes, you were going to make us something to eat before you had to go to the train station.” Grandma Bader looked at the cuckoo clock on the wall above the television. She paused her show and set the remote down on the coffee table. “Your train will be leaving in a little over an hour. Why don’t you sit down and talk for a few minutes? You look a little pale and your eyes are puffy, like you were crying.”
“I was,” Lizzie admitted as she took a seat in the leather, cream wingback chair. “It seemed so real.”
“Oh, my.” Grandma Mullane nudged Grandma Bader and pointed at Lizzie. “She looks like she’s about to cry.”
Lizzie wiped at the rebellious tear as it trickled down her cheek. “I’m fine.”
“Maybe you’d feel better if you told us about your dream,” Grandma Mullane suggested.
“You’ll think this weird, but I actually dreamed about Great-great-grandma Ambrewster.” She laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. “That I was back in 1904 and I had the make the quilt in order to get back home.”
“Obviously you did since you’re here.” Grandma Bader chuckled. “Ambrewster was her maiden name. She went on to marry Charles Lillingston.”
Lizzie had forgotten what Grandma Mullane’s maiden name was. At least her great-great grandmother had been able to move on. Lizzie decided not to go into too much detail about her dream. She didn’t want to relive Jeremiah’s death. The loss felt so real.
She did enjoy spending time with the little girls in her dream. “Her two younger sisters, Olivia and Mary Margaret were adorable.”
“How did you know about my aunts?” Great-grandma Mullane asked. “I must have mentioned my mother’s sisters before.”
Lizzie’s eyes widened. Maybe she had. She really couldn’t remember.
“We best let Lizzie get ready, Mother, or she’ll miss her train.” Grandma Mullane stood. “I’ve got a book I promised to let your mother read if you don’t mind taking it to her for me.”
“I’d be happy to.” Lizzie followed her grandmother to the other room to retrieve the book, before going to pack the rest of her things in her duffel bag and grabbing her quilt.
Heaviness weighed heavily on her heart as she said her goodbyes and went to the train station. The stone building was an older version of the past. Had her mind conjured a cleaner, newer version of the depot? Did she only have the dream because of her grandmother giving her the quilt?
By far the most vivid dream she ever had in her life. Whatever the reason for the dream, Lizzie felt she had finally moved past her hurt and was able to open her heart again, just as her great-great-grandmother was finally able to do as well. So, if Grandma Mullane had intended for her mother’s story to help Lizzie get over Geoff—it worked.
“All aboard,” announced over a speaker in the train station drew Lizzie’s attention. She hurried outside with her things, ticket in hand, and climbed the few steps to board the train.
As she walked down the narrow aisle, her gaze locked with an incredible pair of brown eyes. “Jeremiah?”
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” he asked.
Lizzie smiled. “You used to.”
“That sounds like a story I need to hear.” His laughter echoed in her ears. “Perhaps you would like to join me, and you could tell me your name and how you know me.” He stood and allowed her room to pass him to sit at the window seat. “Please tell me you’re not a social media stalker.”
She giggled nervously. “Um, no. I promise, but you might find it kind of weird.”
“Well, I’ve got three or four hours to kill before the train reaches St. Louis.”
Tiny bursts of electricity tingled through her body. “I live in St. Louis too.”
“You don’t say.” His left eyebrow arched slightly, and his smile melted her heart. “I’m afraid I don’t know what to call you, other than beautiful.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. “My name’s Lizzie.”
“Obviously, you already know my name is Jeremiah.” He took her hand as if to shake it, but just held it. “So where have we met before? The train?”
Lizzie smiled. He’d never believe her if she told him. Although, he had believed her in her dream. She rubbered her hand over the quilt, tracing the flower patterns with her index finger. “Do you see the navy-blue centers of these flowers?”
He nodded when she glanced at him.
“They were from a torn pair of work pants that Jeremiah Hopkins wore when he worked on the train.”
“Wait a minute.” His eyes scrunched as lips twisted. “You’re saying that fabric came from my namesake, my great-great uncle?”
“Yes,” Lizzie said. “My great-great grandmother was in love with him and had planned to marry him.”
“You’re Elizabeth Ambrewster?” Jeremiah stared at her in disbelief. “We were just talking about her and how my great-grandfather spoke of how he went away when he thought her father wouldn’t let them marry.”
“You were talking about me? I mean her,” Lizzie corrected herself, still feeling disorientated by her dream.
“Well, I was named after him, so it’s a story that’s kind of passed down over the years.” Jeremiah ran his hand through his wavy brown hair. It was shorter on the sides than his great-great grandfather’s.
Lizzie longed to reach out and touch it. Time was surreal. It seemed like months since she’d seen him, touched him, yet she’d only just woken from her nap over an hour ago.
Over the next few hours they shared stories of each other’s families and talked as if they’d known each other their whole lives and were just catching up over ‘old times’.
“Our stop is coming soon,” Jeremiah said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The action sending a surge of warmth through her. “Do you think we could maybe have dinner sometime? I’d love for you to meet my family.”
His family? As odd as it sounded, it made sense. Their families were connected in a strange sense, and perhaps this was the time for their story. But the sense of loss still weighed heavily on her.
“I will, on one condition,” Lizzie said.
“Now you really have me curious.” Jeremiah leaned closer. His breath was warm against her ear. “What’s your one condition?”
“We can’t have history repeating itself,” Lizzie breath was ragged. “Promise me you’ll never ride the train again.”
“For the mere price of a kiss, and dinner of course,” he added, “I promise I’ll never ride the train again. After all, I’d much prefer a long car ride alone with you, where we can hold hands without two little girls watching.”
Her heart pounded. Lizzie turned to look in the direction he was motioning with his head. She laughed, realizing she half-expected Olivia and Mary Margaret to be seated behind them.
“Let’s give them something to giggle about.” Jeremiah used his index finger to gently turn her head back around to him. He leaned even closer, his lips claiming hers in a kiss that promised to erase the past and fill her future with hope, love, and possibilities.
The only thing Lizzie knew for sure was, as soon as she got home, she was going to lock her great-great grandmother’s quilt away in the trunk at the foot of her bed and hide the key so that no one was ever tempted to pull the quilt out and use it again. She had no intention of going anywhere again—she was right where she wanted to be, and with the person she wanted to be with—through all of time.