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"Are you asking me to marry you?"

John grabbed her hands and looked at her thoughtfully. He appeared now to be less interested in Grace's past than in her plans for the immediate future.

"I am. I know this is sudden. I had hoped to ask you in a more proper setting, but what's done is done. I love you and I want a life with you. Will you marry me?"

Grace's mind immediately raced not to an answer but rather to the sunny day at Mount Rainier in 1941 when she had severed her emotional ties to Navy Ensign Paul McEwan and fully embraced furniture salesman Joel Smith. She vividly remembered trading a secure future with the former for an uncertain future with the latter.

Grace realized that she faced a similar choice now. She loved John Walker and knew he would make a fine husband and father, but she also knew that if she accepted his proposal she would become Mrs. Walker, not Mrs. Smith, and burn her bridges to the past. Though she knew the odds of ever returning to 2002 were slim to none, she was not quite ready to give up hope.

She brought her hands together, placed them on her mouth, and sighed. Once again, she had to choose between a memory and a man in front of her. Once again, it was decision time.

"I can't," Grace said as tears welled in her eyes. "I love you. I do. You must believe that. But I need a little more time. I can't commit to anything right now."

Grace hoped for some understanding but got silence instead. When she touched John's arm, he turned away and looked out his rain-streaked window. For more than a minute, he stared at the late morning traffic and kept to himself.

She couldn’t blame him. She could only imagine his humiliation. He had everything to offer a single, penniless woman carrying the child of another man. Yet she had turned him down.

"John? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said.

He stared at Grace with vacant eyes, sighed, and returned his hands to the steering wheel.

"It's getting late. Let's get you to the doctor."

CHAPTER 59: JOHN

The drive to Second Avenue was conducted in silence. John kept his eyes on the road. Grace kept hers on the sights out her window. Both, it seemed, realized that their once promising relationship had hit a significant snag.

John shook his head as he navigated through traffic in the city's central core. He had been stupid to press the issue. Of course she needed more time. They had known each other less than four months and had seriously dated less than two. What kind of woman committed to marriage at seven weeks, particularly in the front seat of a car?

He berated himself for putting her on the spot but not for asking about her man. He could not understand why Grace Smith, or any woman, could not answer the most basic questions about a relationship that had resulted in a pregnancy. He had every right to know about her past and the man he wanted to replace.

John finally stopped not in front of the building that housed the office of Dr. James Barrett but rather a building that housed financial offices three blocks away. He got out of the Cadillac, walked with a surprisingly smooth gait to the other side, and opened the passenger door.

"Why are we getting out here?" Grace asked.

"There is supposed to be a rally in support of the strikers near the medical building this morning. It's probably already over, but I think it would be best if we park here and walk the rest of the way. Things are very tense now. I want to preserve our options in case there's trouble."

"You think it's that bad?"

"The mayor seems to think so. He's added six hundred men to the police force, deputized another twenty-four hundred, and announced that 'any man who attempts to take over the control of the municipal government functions will be shot.' I call that bad. People are already on edge with the suspension of services. It wouldn't take much to set things off."

John put his arm around Grace's waist and gently guided her south on Second Avenue. They walked half a block when she stopped, grabbed his hands, and turned to face him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you. I do love you and I don't want you to think otherwise. I just want you to be patient."

John smiled sadly at a woman who reminded him all too much of one who had been taken by a trolley barely six blocks away. How long ago that awful day now seemed.

He had no doubt that Emily would have approved of this relationship. She would have wanted him to be happy and surely would have counseled patience on a day like today. "Use your head, John," he could almost hear her say. He decided then and there he would do whatever it took to gain Grace's hand.

"I must admit I had hoped for, and even expected, a different answer, but I understand your position. If you need more time, I'll give you more time. You're worth it."

Grace smiled widely as she lifted her head and met his eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on the lips before stepping back and releasing one of his hands.

"Thank you. All I want is a few more weeks."

As they proceeded down the sidewalk of the busy arterial, John could see evidence that the four-day general strike, which had followed a shipyard strike and months of unrest, had taken a toll on the city of 315,000. Several businesses had shut their doors, trolleys sat idle, and litter cluttered the streets. Few of the pedestrians out and about wore smiles.

They saw nothing alarming, however, until they came within a block of the medical building and saw a dozen men waging a war of words. They could not make out the words at first, but that soon changed. In a matter of seconds, vague shouts became clearer threats.

"Why don't you bums get back to work?" shouted a well-dressed man in front of a restaurant. "I'm losing business every day because of the likes of you."

"Well, that's good to hear, mister, because we intend to put you out of business."

"Get off my sidewalk. Take your rabble elsewhere."

"Do you hear this guy?" a shabbily dressed man said to those at his back. "He thinks this is his sidewalk."

Half of the men crowding the sidewalk laughed. The others, who appeared to side with the businessman, formed balls with their firsts.

"Get off this sidewalk!"

"What if I don't? Are you going to make me get off?"

The businessman nodded to his peers. The peers stepped toward the others as John tried to guide Grace through the maze of twelve angry men.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, we just want to pass through. Please . . ."

Before John could say another word the two sides were at it. He tried to shield Grace from the worst of the fight but took a fist to the jaw before he could push her to the side and out of harm's way. He released her hand and turned to face his attacker when he was hit again.

Grace screamed and tried to pull John away but was quickly shoved aside. She stumbled backward into a brick wall and fell. When she got up and tried to free him again, she took an elbow to the chest and dropped to the ground.

John attempted to come to Grace's aid but could not shake the grip of a man who clung to his uniform. He punched the man and then another in an attempt to break free but succeeded only in bringing more violence on himself. Two other men joined the fray and hit John repeatedly in the head and the chest until he bent over and faltered.

John reached for Grace as he stumbled forward but grabbed nothing but air. When he heard a whistle blow, he turned his head and saw her run screaming toward a policeman pushing his way through a crowd on the other side of the street.

Satisfied that Grace was out of harm's way, John swung one more time at each of his two assailants. They both fired back with blows to the head and chest and then scattered at the sound of another whistle. Within seconds all of the fighters fled the scene in different directions.

Doubled up on the sidewalk, John Walker remained conscious long enough to see Grace return to his side and the cop give up his chase of one of the brawlers. He reached for Grace's arm but again came up empty. He dropped his face to the cold cement and yielded to his injuries as unintelligible voices floated through the air and his once promising morning went black.

CHAPTER 60: GRACE

Kenmore, Washington – Friday, February 14, 1919

"It was probably some of your Wobbly friends," Lucy said. She looked scornfully across the dinner table at her sister. "They've done nothing but stir up trouble."

"You don't know
who
it was," Edith protested. "Even Grace said she thought it was the bullies from the restaurant. You can't just blame people without getting all the facts."

"Ladies, please," Alistair said. "I'm sure the police will sort it out."

Grace scanned the faces at the table and then pushed her plate away. She wanted no part of this discussion, even if it related to her in a number of ways. She cared only about the man in the house next door, who rested in bed with four cracked ribs, a bruised jaw, and a concussion.

"Did the papers report anything?" Margaret asked.

"Not a word," Alistair said. "They maintain this has been a peaceful strike, the most peaceful in history. They have not reported a single incident. Thank God this mess is over and we can get on with our lives."

Margaret passed a plate of vegetables to Edith, poured herself a glass of water, and started into her dinner. She managed only a few bites, however, before turning her attention to a woman who was now well into her fifth month of pregnancy.

"You must eat, Grace," she said. "I know this episode has been unsettling, but you must eat something – if not for yourself then at least for the baby."

"I'm just not hungry."

"How is Captain Walker doing? I haven't heard anything since yesterday."

"He's resting at home, but he's still in much pain. The doctors say it will be weeks before his ribs heal and he is back to normal."

"I think we should bake some pies tonight and take them over tomorrow," Lucy said.

"What a splendid idea," Margaret said. "I'd be happy to help you."

"I'll help too," Edith said.

Grace ignored the exchange and instead stared at an oil painting on the far side of the dining room, a painting of downtown Seattle in the 1880s. She let her mind drift as she revisited every detail of a brutal assault that had haunted her for days. She wondered, for the umpteenth time, whether she could have done anything to prevent it.

"It's my fault," she said. "I should have rescheduled my appointment. I could have waited for the strike to end. If I would have put John first, none of this would have happened."

"Don't be silly," Alistair said. "You had no idea that things would turn out as they did. You had every reason to believe that those men and everyone else in the city would behave in a civilized manner. You did nothing wrong and neither did Captain Walker."

"Alistair's right," Margaret said. "You had an obligation, even a duty, to honor that appointment. You did nothing that I would not have done under the same circumstances. The people to blame are the horrible men who put their selfish interests ahead of your safety."

"I suppose you're right."

"I know I'm right. Now please eat. If you really want to do something for the captain, then eat your dinner and take care of yourself. Then, if you'd like, you can help us with those pies."

"I'll let you three handle the pies," Grace said. "I have something else I want to give John. I think I'll go over to see him tonight."

CHAPTER 61: GRACE

The walk to the Walkers was cold, treacherous, and thankfully short. Grace slipped twice on the ice but managed to keep her balance and remain on her feet. Even in the dark she knew which patches of the potholed road to step on and which to avoid.

When Grace finally reached the front door, she knocked twice, peered through a beveled glass pane, and waited for an answer. A moment later, she saw Caroline Walker walk slowly down a hallway to the door. She wore the face of a woman who had endured a long day.

"Come in, dear," Caroline said as she opened the door. "You must be freezing."

"Thank you. It is a bit chilly."

Grace stepped in and unbuttoned her coat.

"I can't believe Alistair allowed you to walk alone. I will speak to him."

"Please don't," Grace said. "I insisted on going alone. I enjoy the solitude on nights like this. You can see all the stars right now. It's really quite beautiful."

"If you say so," Caroline said. "Let me take your coat. Can I make you some tea?"

"No, thank you, Mrs. Walker," Grace said. She handed the woman her coat. "I won't be long. I just came over to see how John is doing and give him a card."

"You can find him in his room. I trust you know the way," Caroline said.

"I do. Thank you."

Grace thought of the pleasant exchange as she approached a flight of stairs that led to the second floor. She knew she still had a way to go to win over the skeptical Mrs. Walker, but she could finally see signs of progress. She hoped that in time the mother of the man she loved would see her less as a threat and more as a friend.

Grace ascended the stairs and proceeded down a carpeted hallway to the second room on the right. She knocked on the door. When she didn't hear an answer, she slowly pushed her way into the room and saw John sitting up in his bed.

"I'm sorry to disturb you. Your mother said I could find you here."

John turned his head toward the door and offered a warm smile.

"I'm surprised she let you advance without an escort. She must trust you. Please come in."

Grace grabbed a chair in the corner of the room and dragged it across the wooden floor to the side of the bed. She sat down, put a hand on the bed, and then took a long look at a man who had sustained a savage beating on her behalf.

"How are you feeling?"

"It hurts to breathe, the headaches are endless, and eating is a bit of a challenge. Otherwise, I feel wonderful."

Both laughed.

"In fact, I'm feeling much better," John said. He put his hand on Grace's. "I'm glad you came. I've thought of you all week. I've missed you."