The Time Heiress (22 page)

She could hear the murmur of voices in the other room. As she closed her eyes, she saw Vanderhoff’s dead, staring orbs. She opened her lids again to try to keep the image from coming back, but it was no use, her eyes would not stay open. When Evie came and crawled into bed with her an hour later, she did not even stir.

It was midnight. Nick was in the portal lab. He had been expecting the travelers’ return for hours. He stared at the monitor, his eyes red and burning. He figured they would have waited ’till night, but not this late. It would be odd for two women to be out alone so late, ducking into alleys. Damn it, where was she? There! Something flickered on the monitor. His heart raced. But then, no, it was only some small animal creeping through the alleyway. He rubbed his forehead, disappointment and fatigue overtaking him.

The other scientists on the team seemed maddeningly calm. Professor Carver had gone to the hotel to sleep, opining that the women would be back soon enough and there was no reason to get excited. Jake was asleep on the lab sofa, snoring. Yoshi had gone out to get something to eat, and James was relaxing in a swivel chair, feet propped up on the consol, eyes closed, listening to music only he could hear, playing a guitar only he could see. Nick sat hunched beside him, hungry and uncomfortable, thinking how idiotic the young man looked.

This situation was just what Nick had feared, and no one, especially Cassandra, had paid him any mind. Anything could have happened to them. Or maybe there
was
nothing wrong; they just didn’t feel like coming back yet. They were probably having a great time, entertaining their latest conquests. Frankly, he didn’t care what Evie did, but Cassandra…what was she up to at this moment, two hundred and sixty-nine years in the past? Where the hell was she?

James opened his eyes for a moment, looked at Nick, smiled, then closed them and went back to the music in his virtual world. Nick wanted to take the tiny button-like object lying on the console that was responsible for transmitting the sounds and images into James’ head and smash it to smithereens.

He needed to go for a walk, to clear his head, but he didn’t want to take the chance that the two women would suddenly appear on the monitor and he wouldn’t be there. He wanted to be the first one to greet Cassandra; he wanted to be the first person she saw when she got back. As if reading his thoughts, James opened his eyes and deactivated the tiny music device with a tap.

He smiled. “Ya wanna take a break?”

“No, not really,” the older man replied.

“Come on, Nick, you’ve been sitting there for hours.”

“I’m fine.” Nick stared at the monitor.    

“You know, I’m her son. If anyone should be worried, it’s me.”

“And yet you’re not.”

“How do you know I’m not?”

“You don’t look too worried.”

“Actually, I think it’s a little soon to be worried. I’m sure there’s a good reason for their delay.”

“And when do you think it would be a good time to start worrying?”

“If they’re not back by tomorrow night, I promise you, I’ll worry!”

Nick sighed. “Fine, I’ll take a break. I’ll go for a walk. Do you swear you won’t take your eyes off the monitor?”

“What do think, Nick? That I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“No. No, I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I apologize for being a jerk.” He didn’t want to get on the boy’s bad side. After all, he thought, when Cassandra and I marry, James will be my stepson.

“That’s all right,” said James giving him a pat on the shoulder as Nick rose. “I understand.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in a few.”

“Take your time.”

As Nick walked out the door of the lab, James punched the tiny button and started strumming his invisible guitar, eyes firmly glued to the monitor.

*****

Cassandra and the other three women all woke around the same time, and took turns with the basin and pitcher, cleaning up as well as they could. They dressed in the same clothes as the day before, donning the fresh linens that had been supplied. Evie helped Cassandra with her hair, holding the one available hand mirror, and then Cassandra reciprocated. 

They all ate together in the men’s quarters. Once the table had been cleared, Miss Ketchum picked up a ball of yarn and two knitting needles and began to cast on.

“What will you knit?” Evie asked her.

“Oh, whatever I have time to finish. I could probably work up a nice muffler for Mrs. Adams in the course of a day.”

“I never learned to knit,” said Evie. “No one in my family ever did.”

“What? How surprising!” declared Miss Johnston.

Caleb, seated next to Evie picked up her small hand and regarded it tenderly. “I do not think these hands have done much serious work, except painting,” he said to her with a smile.

“I am almost ashamed to admit that is true,” she said, looking into his eyes.

“Come, let me show you,” said Miss Ketchum.

She began to teach Evie while Caleb looked on affectionately.

“Miss Ketchum, where did
you
learn to knit?” Cassandra asked.

 “Master’s wife taught me, down in North Carolina, when I was just a little girl. Even though once I was older they sent me to work in the fields, I kept it up and was able to make an occasional pair of socks or a hat if I could get a hold of a bit o’ extra yarn.”

Cassandra pictured the small girl laboring night and day in bondage. The image made her own troubles seem insignificant.

Samuel fished a small, rudimentary, wooden horse and a folding knife from where he’d stashed them in his pocket and began to carve. Cassandra watched him for a while, then picked up her book, but could not focus on the words on the page. Images of James’ face, Jake’s, Professor Carver’s and Nick’s swam before her eyes. She knew they must be getting worried.

The door opened and her heart leapt. Perhaps it was Mr. Adams with news of Carter! Instead, Mr. Evans walked in, having used the water closet in the hall, and went to wash his hands in the basin. He then came to the table with a deck of cards and sat down next to her.

“Fancy a game?”

“I am sorry. I would not be good company. I cannot concentrate.”

“No need to apologize, Mrs. Reilly, I understand. We need some diversion, however. Would you like me to read out loud from—” He looked at the cover of the book. “Ah, Nathaniel’s masterpiece!”

“No, I do not think it is suitable for our mood.”

“Then we need a story. Caleb, have you ever told Mrs. Reilly the tale of your escape from slavery? I imagine she would like to hear what has brought you to this moment in your lives.”

“I would!” Cassandra said, putting down her book. “But I do not want to impose if you would rather not, Mr. Stone.”

“Would you mind, Brother Caleb?” asked Miss Ketchum. “It is a long tale, but he tells it well,” she informed Cassandra.

“Not at all,” Caleb said. “I think it is time for Mrs. Reilly to hear it and time is certainly one of the things we have.”

Samuel put down his carving, and Miss Ketchum reached over and squeezed her brother’s hand. Evie put aside the knitting and Miss Johnston sat up straighter in her chair.

“It begins from my earliest days when I worked in the fields. My hands were small and nimble so I could get a hold of that cotton…”  

He spoke for an hour. When he finished telling of the encounter with the slave-catchers in Mr. Clarkson’s cart, Cassandra realized she’d been holding her breath.

“At the house that Mr. Clarkson delivered us to,” he continued, “across the bay from Baltimore, we met a group of ladies who had come ’specially to meet us and hear our stories. They were amazed at what we had been through. They said their group raised funds to help runaway slaves and that they had money to put us on a train to Philadelphia. This was the best news we had ever heard. After a good night’s sleep, we put on our same clothes, I kept my old man disguise, and they drove us in a carriage to a train station where they bought us five tickets, including the two for Nate and Sharla. We could not thank them enough, but they would not accept the gratitude. They gave fifteen dollars to us three, and ten to Nate and Sharla, plus a nice basket of food for the trip. They said that once we went over the Pennsylvania line, we would be free.

“The train pulled into the station, big and smoking. I had never seen anything like it. We were a little scared to get on the great steel monster, but more scared to be caught and sent back.

The train chugged along all that day and we watched houses, fields, and rivers go by. We saw black folk out working the farms, and in my heart I said a prayer that they would get themselves to freedom too. We slept in our seats overnight, and in the morning I was woken by Nate yelling.

‘We’re in Pennsylvania! We’re here! We crossed the line!’

“We were free. Before the Fugitive Slave laws, once you were over that line, nothing could send you back. We laughed and cried and hugged each other. We were really free! When that train pulled into the Philadelphia station, we put our feet on the ground for the first time as free men and women. I tell you, nothing ever felt like that before or since.”

“It is true,” chimed Samuel. “It was a wondrous moment.”

“It is beyond my imagining!” sighed Cassandra.

“We stayed in Philadelphia for about a month with Nate and Sharla, who had a sister there,” Caleb continued. “They told us where to find work and were most generous to let us share their tiny home. We heard about this place called New York from the people we met, and the three of us decided that was where we wanted to go. So after we saved enough money, Sam and I doing building work, and Lill sewing and doing laundry, we bought train tickets and came on. We thought we had found a home in New York. We thought we would live there forever, especially after we met the Johnstons and they took us in. But now, it is time to move on again.”

Lillian and Samuel shook their heads sadly, and there was silence for a moment. Mr. Evans patted Caleb on the back.

Evie was weeping.

“Excuse me,” she said. She hurried away into the women’s bedroom. The rest of the group sat quietly for a moment.

Finally, Miss Johnston said, “Go on, Caleb. Go comfort her.”

He did as he was told, went into the bedroom, and closed the door behind him.

*****

“We have heard from Carter!” cried Mr. Adams bursting into the room. He will be here with the luggage by five tomorrow. He has borrowed a different carriage so as not to be recognized and followed, and he will escort Miss Bay and Mrs. Reilly back to Manhattan after we have seen the others off.”

Cassandra gasped with relief. They could go back by the house, get their things, and make their way to the portal exit by hack coach. They would dismiss the coach and when the coast was clear, they’d go. They would be back in 2122 before midnight the next day.

Evie hurried out of the women’s quarters, followed shortly thereafter by Caleb. “Mr. Adams, did you say that Carter will be here tomorrow?”

“Yes, my dear. You and your friend can return to Manhattan then.”

Cassandra saw Evie turn to Caleb, her face pale. The young man squeezed her hand.

*****

The next day, Cassandra tried to keep herself occupied as she waited anxiously for five o’clock. She listened as the fugitives and Miss Johnston talked about what it would be like in Canada, what they would do, how they would survive.

“And what does your family think of your going?” Cassandra asked her.

“They do not know,” she said, her eyes downcast.

“My goodness! They will be horrified when you do not return with me and Evie! I am sure they are already quite worried!”

“Only Anna Mae and Caroline know,” she said quietly, “and I asked them not to tell my family just yet, for fear they may try to coax me back. Those two ladies have been our confidants in matters of the Railroad for a long time.”

“Oh, Cass,” said Miss Ketchum, “I feel so terrible.” She took the woman’s hand.

“No, no, dear.” She patted it in return. “Anyway, the house will go to Jerry and it will be wonderful for him and Aimee to raise their family there.”

“But Cass, you must inform your mother and Reverend Williams before we move on. You must pen a note and send it back with Mrs. Reilly and Miss Bay to deliver to them.”

The two women moved to one side of the room to work on the note, Cassandra dreading delivering such news to Miss Johnston’s family.

The day wore on. Mr. Evans had taken up position next to Cassandra and would not relinquish her company. They spoke about what he would do in Albany, how he would stay out of sight, go undercover, stay hidden from the Vanderhoff family and the police, in much the way they were hiding now, and if it became too difficult, he’d head to Canada for a while, or out to Kansas to see what could be done about the political situation there. 

“Mrs. Reilly… Cassandra,” he said to her at last, talking low. “I have something to ask you and wonder if we might adjourn to the other room. I do not want to seem indelicate, but I would like to talk to you in private.”

She glanced at Evie and Caleb, their ankles entwined. Caleb’s hand was on Evie’s leg and she clutched it.

“At this point,” she observed, “I do not think delicacy is much of an issue.”

They rose and went into the women’s bedroom, Evie lifting an eyebrow at Cassandra as she passed. Mr. Evans closed the door and went to sit near the foot of her bed. She looked at him suspiciously.