Somewhere in Time (The Crosse Harbor Time Travel Trilogy) (30 page)

"But all those family stories," she persisted.

"You did your best," Zane said. "Don't worry. History will bear you out."

Isaac burst through the front door, his narrow face bright with excitement. "My ma says to come on outside fast as you can! He's about to leave."

Zane and Emilie looked at each other.

"Who's about to leave?" Zane asked.

"General Washington," said Isaac, heading for the door. "He came to the wedding to deliver a letter from my pa. My pa's a hero! He--"

His words faded as it all came into terrifying focus for Emilie. The answers had been right there in front of her all the time. Her family. The wedding celebration with the fiddle music and laughter. She looked at Zane.
The man dressed in black who saved the General's life....

"Oh my God!" She started for the door, fighting down a wave of nausea. "This is it!"

Zane grabbed her by the arm. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Her voice was high and tight. "Andrew's not the hero. It's--"

He bolted for the door, knocking Isaac onto his behind. There'd be time enough later for apologies.

Rebekah stood on the front porch, clutching a letter to her heart. "Zane!" Her smile was radiant. "We tried to find you. I so wanted to introduce you to His Excellency."

He grabbed the woman by the arm. "Where is he?"

She pointed toward the barn where he saw a man in uniform astride a horse. "He leaves now for Philadelphia."

"Is he alone?"

Rebekah shook her head. "He travels with his aide." She frowned. "Now what is his name? Ah yes...Talmadge."

He vaulted the porch railing and hit the ground hard. A sharp pain shot through his right arm and it occurred to him that he'd probably broken it again. It didn't matter. Scrambling to his feet he headed full-speed toward the barn.

One hundred yards...fifty...faster...he had to run faster....

The assassin could be anywhere. The musket could be trained on Washington right now.

He kept running. Somewhere behind him he heard Emilie's voice. Whatever happened, however it ended, he wanted her to be proud.

"Get off that horse!" he roared at the General. "Now!"

Washington turned slowly and looked toward Zane. The man was a dollar bill come to life, the face on a thousand President's Day circulars. The impact stopped Zane in his tracks.

But not for long. If he didn't do something in the next ten seconds, the future he and Emilie took for granted wouldn't stand a chance and that dollar bill would be a pound note instead.

The General's hand moved toward the hilt of his sword.

Behind him, he heard Emilie scream.

Sorry, George. This is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you.

And with that thought, Zane Grey Rutledge threw himself headlong into history.

Chapter Fifteen

Rebekah stood in the doorway, watching as Emilie collected the last of her things from the second floor bedroom that had been their home. "Are you feeling better?"

"I'm fine," Emilie said with a smile. "Truly."

"The nausea?"

"Gone," said Emilie. "The lemon crackers did the trick." She could no longer deny the symptoms. She had tried to attribute the dizziness and nausea and skipped period to everything but the truth: she was pregnant with Zane's baby, this miracle child conceived in the future on that moonlit when she'd thrown caution to the winds and followed her heart.

"'Tis a good sign. Misery now means a healthy babe when your time comes."

"From your mouth to God's ear."

Rebekah looked at her curiously. "I have not heard that expression before."

Emilie folded Zane's black shirt and added it to the small pile of clothing. "It's a very popular expression in New York."

"So you say. Still there is something about you and your husband that sets you apart."

"Our accents?" asked Emilie.

"How I wish I could pinpoint it with precision. I have never known a friend such as you."

Emilie gave the other woman an impulsive hug. "I'm going to miss you, Rebekah. Especially now."

Rebekah nodded, her brown eyes wet with tears. "I am afraid I do not know how I will manage without your friendship."

"The friendship will not end," said Emilie, meaning it. "Only the proximity."

They heard the sound of Zane's footsteps on the staircase.

"Not a word about the baby," Emilie warned.

"You still have not told him?"

Emilie shook her head. "He has had enough to think of this week."

Zane had re-broken his arm during his heroic rescue of General Washington. Between that and all of the excitement the rescue generated, there had been little time to break news of such a delicate nature. As soon as they were settled in their new home near Philadelphia, she would tell him.

It wasn't that she was nervous about telling him. Not really. Just because they hadn't gotten around to talking about children didn't mean he didn't want any. Sure, during their first marriage he'd made it clear that reproduction was near the bottom of his list. But that was a long time ago--and this was a different Zane.

As if on cue, Zane appeared in the doorway. "It's time, Emilie. We have a long trip ahead of us."

As always, the sight of him tugged at her heartstrings. "Is the wagon loaded?"

Zane nodded then turned to Rebekah, a stern look on his handsome face. "You've given us enough food to last a year."

"'Twas the General's orders," Rebekah said with a saucy grin.

"How will you feed your family?"

"His Excellency said that will no longer be a problem for us."

"You must be so proud of Josiah," Emilie said. "Working behind British lines the way he has been doing must take a great deal of courage."

For the past three months Josiah Blakelee had been collecting valuable information for the Patriots spy ring that General Washington devoutly prayed would lead them to their first decisive victory of the war.

It was all Emilie could do to keep from telling them that the victory they so desired was in sight. In just a few short months, on a cold winter's day in January, the Battle of Princeton would be fought and won, setting the Continental Army on the road to glory.

Zane turned to Emilie. "I'll meet you downstairs."

Emilie's eyes filled with tears. "Will we see each other again?" she asked Rebekah. "Now that Zane and I are both part of the spy ring--"

"Life is filled with surprises," Rebekah said. "That is one thing that eighteen years of marriage to Josiah Blakelee have taught me."

Emilie glanced about the room, suppressing a smile as her gaze fell upon the copper tub. "It appears that I have everything."

"You came with so little," Rebekah said. "I have often wondered how it was you and your husband came upon Andrew."

Emilie sighed. "It seems a lifetime ago, Rebekah. So much has happened since." She gathered up the satchel of clothing from the bed.

"Do you have the letter of protection from General Washington?" Rebekah asked.

Emilie patted the pocket of her gown. "The most valuable item in our possession." She had placed it in the embroidered purse, along with the items she'd retrieved from their hiding place near the barn. She could just imagine the uproar if Rebekah had discovered money with the General's picture on it.

Washington's gratitude had been sincere and overwhelming in its generosity. In addition to the letter granting them safe passage, he had procured for them a wagon and horse, the 18th century equivalent of a BMW and free gasoline for life. They had been asked to join the Philadelphia branch of the spy ring where Zane's powers of observation and Emilie's skills with a needle and floss would be put to their best use.

What Washington had done, in effect, was to hand them their future--the one thing they'd been unable to do for themselves. And now, with their baby growing beneath her heart, that future took on new importance.

#

Zane waited near the wagon with Rebekah's children. Even Charity and Timothy, home from their wedding trip to a cousin's house in Delaware, had returned to say goodbye. Emilie was deeply touched and she hugged the two young people warmly. The thought that her life would be forever intertwined with the lives of these good people made her feel part of that invisible chain that linked her still to the world she'd left behind.

"The post runs well between Philadelphia and Princeton," said Rebekah. "You must write and tell me how you fare in your new home."

"No sister has ever been more kind," said Emilie as the two women hugged one last time. "We'll never forget you--not any of you."

Isaac, looking terribly adult, offered his hand which Zane shook with great solemnity. Emilie detected a certain mistiness in Zane's eyes which only endeared him to her even more.

Finally they could delay no longer. Emilie took her seat next to Zane on the wagon as he took the reins in his left hand.

"Do you know how to drive this thing?" she whispered.

"How hard can it be? The horse does all the work."

"Godspeed!" cried Rebekah and her children as Zane urged the horse forward.

Emilie sniffled loudly for the first hour as they

skirted the town of Princeton and headed south.

"We'll see them again," Zane said. "Our paths are bound to cross."

"How can you be sure?" she asked, her green eyes brimming with tears. "It's not like we can jump in the car and zip over for coffee."

He started to laugh. "What's that I hear? The sound of a woman longing for modern conveniences?"

"Don't make fun of me," she said, glaring over at him. "I miss Rebekah."

"You haven't been gone long enough to miss anybody."

"I don't care. I miss her and that's that."

Zane shot her a quizzical look. Apparently her familiar redhead's temperament had a few variations he'd yet to discover. He'd seen Emilie furious, he'd seen her jealous, he'd seen her indifferent. But the one way he'd never seen her was weepy.

Clearly he still had a lot to learn about the woman he loved.

#

Andrew stayed on Long Island only long enough to visit his late wife's mother then he headed back toward New Jersey.

He had envisioned himself returning as the hero Emilie had claimed he would be. Instead, he was returning once again in anonymity. He had reached Long Island only to discover that George Washington had left suddenly for New Jersey, leaving Andrew feeling the fool as he spoke of assassination plots and daring rescues.

The men had looked at him as if he were crazy.

But then maybe he was.

The torch had been passed. Even he could see it. There were new men to take his place. Younger men. Stronger men. Men with brains and vision who could do things Andrew hadn't dreamed. Rutledge, for one. Even Emilie had more fire in her belly for independence than he had today.

Lately he'd found it difficult to concentrate on the matters at hand when his mind was drawn again and again to the world that Emilie had described to him.

He could imagine the riotous cacophony of noise on a city street. When he closed his eyes he conjured up a gigantic silver bird that streaked through the sky like a shooting star. Nothing was more real to him than those images Emilie and Rutledge had painted for him.

He had made up his mind that when he saw them again at the Blakelee house, he would tell them that he wanted to see their world. At least, that was, if they ever figured out a way to return.

Of course that didn't seem very likely, but then neither did anything to do with the whole amazing enterprise.

So why he had bypassed Princeton and continued southeast until he reached the lighthouse puzzled him. Strange, but the need to see the lighthouse again had been too strong for him to resist. Like some unrelenting call of nature, he'd found himself going miles out of his way just so he could row across the harbor and spend the night listening to the waves crashing against the shore.