17

HOPE

JULY 5, 1692

SALEM VILLAGE

It was later than usual when I woke up on Saturday morning, and Grace had already gone downstairs to start breakfast.

Rolling over, I looked out the small window and stared at the leaves on the treetops in the side yard. It was strange to go to sleep and wake up in the same place day after day. For the first time in my life, I had dreams. I knew what they were, of course, but I had never experienced them because my conscious mind was away from my body while I slept. But now my conscious mind stayed in my 1692 body and was filled with dreams. They were strangely abstract and contained bits and pieces from both of my paths, including my last moments in Boston, leaving me bereft and traumatized all over again.

It had been three days since I'd woken up here after the flight, and those days had gone by in a blur. I wasn't prone to melancholy, but there was a pit deep in my stomach that ached ferociously. Thinking about Mama and Daddy's pain made it even worse. They had just endured my funeral. Had a lot of people come?

Had Luc come?

I sat up, eager to ask Grace. I dressed and went down the back stairs to the kitchen. It was hot and stuffy despite the early hour, promising unbearable heat later in the day.

Leah was sitting with the butter churn. She glanced up at my arrival but looked down again quickly. I avoided wishing her a good morning as I walked over to Grace, who was at the hearth, flipping pancakes. A pile sat on a plate near the heat, staying warm, while cinnamon apples stewed in a pot hanging over the fire and venison sausages sizzled on a griddle. A bowl of clotted cream sat nearby, ready to be sent out with the pancakes.

Grace was a wonder at cooking. With a sigh, I realized I should probably take a better interest in it, since I would be stuck here. There would be no Delmonico's for centuries to come.

She glanced over her shoulder and gave me a slight smile before stacking another pancake on the pile and plopping a dab of butter onto her pan to start the next one. "Good morrow, Hope."

"Good morrow," I told her.

"There are customers in the dining room, ready to eat."

"Is it that late?"

"You've taken to sleeping longer than usual." She worked with deft hands. "Father and Susannah are waiting for their breakfast."

I tried not to sigh.

Perhaps it was time for us to leave the ordinary. It wouldn't be easy to strike out on our own as single women, but maybe Father would be amenable to it now that he had a wife. I doubted it, though. Women did not leave home unless they married or their parents died. If Grace and I left, we'd be looked upon with suspicion no matter where we went. We didn't have any money of our own, either. We'd be destitute. But there had to be a way.

Perhaps our mother's family would take us in—though that was rife with complications, too, and Father would never allow it, especially if it threatened the truth he'd kept hidden about Tacy.

We had much to think about.

I wanted to ask Grace about my funeral, but there was no time or privacy. We needed to get breakfast served, and Leah was present. I filled several plates with food and took them out to the dining room. Father was filling cups of ale, and Susannah was sitting at a table with two men. I didn't recognize either of them, but Father didn't seem concerned that she was talking to them.

When I approached the table, she looked up at me, a half smile on her face. I held three plates of food and set one down in front of each of them.

"Hope, these are my cousins," Susannah said, "come from Boston. Nathaniel Putnam and Benjamin Putnam."

"Good morrow, Hope," one of them said to me.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," said the other.

I nodded at them and offered a polite smile but didn't engage with them. Was there no end to the Putnam family?

"They'll be staying with us for a few days," Susannah continued as Father brought the ale to the table.

I glanced at the men again, and they were both staring at me intently. They were pleasant enough to look at, tall and handsome like most of the Putnams, but there was nothing remarkable about either one.

There were other occupants in the dining room, so I left to get more food. Susannah followed me into the kitchen.

Surprised, I turned. "It's not often we find you in here. Come to help?"

She made a face at that suggestion and then said, "I've come to tell you why Nathaniel and Benjamin are here."

Grace turned away from her pancakes, a wooden spatula in hand.

"This concerns you, as well," Susannah said to her. "Your father is arranging marriages for the both of you. I've convinced him 'tis time you were on your own, and with the arrival of his new child come winter, we'll need your bedchamber."

I stared at her, speechless.

"Nathaniel and Benjamin are concerned about your ages," she continued, "but they're willing to take you on if the dowry is right. And your father is willing to give what is necessary."

"I'm not marrying one of your cousins," I said, turning from her to fill more plates. "I'd never consent to be a Putnam."

"If not my cousins, then who? You cannot stay here forever. I won't hear of it."

I sighed. "'Tis not your concern."

"As your stepmother, 'tis my utmost concern."

I had my back to her, so she couldn't see my scornful look.

"What about you, Grace?" Susannah asked. "Have you given any thought to my suggestion about Isaac?"

Frowning, I turned to Grace. "What suggestion about Isaac?"

Grace's cheeks filled with color, and she resumed her cooking, groaning as she realized one of the pancakes had burned.

"I suggested that she lure Isaac into marriage." Susannah smiled at me like a pleased feline. "If you won't have him, then what's the harm in her staking a claim? He's wealthy, handsome, and clearly interested enough to come here at all hours of the night." She glanced at Leah, who quickly dipped her head.

So Leah was talking to her.

"Mayhap Grace hath already started to persuade Isaac." Susannah's smile didn't waver as she looked at me. "That is, unless you have your eyes on him?"

"Are you trying to put strife between us?" I asked, though I wondered why Grace hadn't told me about her conversation with Susannah. Had they talked about a way for Grace to win Isaac? Now that we were staying in 1692, would Grace stoop to snaring him?

"I am simply trying to get you two out of my home." The smile fell from Susannah's face. "And the sooner the better. My cousins will be here for three days. They know why they're here. If they like either one of you, they might ask for your hand in marriage. I'm telling you so you're prepared with an answer."

After she left the kitchen, I turned to Grace. "Why didn't you tell me about your conversation concerning Isaac?"

Grace glanced at Leah. "Take that outdoors, please."

Without a word, Leah lifted the butter churn and stepped into the backyard, giving Grace and me a little more privacy.

"I didn't tell you because it didn't matter," she said. "Susannah suggested I coax Isaac with physical attention, something I would never do." She flipped her pancakes and then returned her focus to me. "What will we do about her cousins?"

I shrugged. "I didn't plan to get married, but things have changed." I nibbled my bottom lip, emotions rising to the surface. "Now that we're not returning to 1912 ..." I let the sentence dangle. She knew what I meant. We needed to consider all our options.

Grace turned back to her pancakes, focusing on them for a few seconds before she said, "What if I don't want to stay in 1692?"

I stared at her back, uncertain I had heard her correctly. Panic hit my heart as I put my hand on her shoulder. "What?"

She turned, her eyes heavy with uncertainty as she whispered, "What if I don't want to stay in 1692?"

"How could you even suggest such a thing?" I shook my head, incredulous. "We go together. Always."

Tears rimmed her eyes, and she blinked to clear them. "This wasn't the plan, Hope." There was something in her voice I had never heard before. Desperation, resentment, anger? "We weren't going to stay here. I have work in 1912—work I love. And there's Mama and Daddy and ..." It was her turn to let her sentence dangle.

"And what?"

"And—everything." Her voice rose with passion. "I didn't choose to fly that aeroplane. I told you it was dangerous. Why must I suffer because of your foolishness?"

I pulled back, feeling like she had just slapped me. "I didn't die on purpose."

"But you knew the risks. Now I must throw my entire life away because of it?"

"You mean because of me." I was hurt—deeply. "Are you saying that your life in 1912 is more important than me?"

"Oh, I don't know." She pushed past me and paced across the kitchen, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm so confused—about everything. I wish you had never learned to fly."

"I'm confused, too." We stared at each other for a moment, and then I said, "Would you truly choose everything else over me?"

She studied me for a long time. "I have always bent to your will because it has been the easiest way to please you. But I'm not sure I can do it this time."

My breath caught. "How could you be so selfish?"

Grace's mouth parted as she stared at me. Tears filled her eyes before she pressed her lips together and left the kitchen, going up the back stairs.

I had hurt her. Grace was one of the least selfish people I knew—yet my heart was breaking. We were a pair.

Would she really leave me here alone?

I finished serving breakfast, and still Grace did not return to the kitchen. I watched the stairs throughout the meal, my heart stopping each time I heard a creak—but she did not appear.

Whenever I entered the dining room, Susannah leveled her glare at me. I wasn't sure if it was meant to intimidate me, manipulate me, or just communicate her displeasure.

Her cousins tried to draw me into conversation, but my mind and heart were with Grace. They teased me about being such a pretty spinster, which did nothing to ease the tension, and the more I ignored them, the more I noticed Father and Susannah keeping their eyes on me.

When the breakfast dishes were cleared, I went into the kitchen to clean them, but Father entered.

"Why were you and Grace arguing?" he asked.

"You heard us?" My pulse ticked up a notch. What had he heard?

"I heard your voices raised." He frowned. "'Tis a poor way to make a good impression on Susannah's cousins. No one wants a quarrelsome wife."

Susannah entered the kitchen, a scowl on her face. "I do not think she wants to marry," she said to my father. "She wants to live on your charity for the rest of her life."

"Charity?" I asked, astounded. "I work hard for what I have, little that it may be. A small, cold room that I must share with my sister. Leftover food, after the customers have eaten, and a few simple dresses and underclothes. If I worked for my living, I could at least be my own master." Anger boiled within me, and tears gathered in my eyes, making me angrier still. It was all too much. "I hate this place, yet I am stuck here forever. Once, I had dreams of doing so much more. But now?" The tears spilled over, and I despised them. "I am a prisoner in time, and there is nothing I can do to leave."

Father and Susannah stared at me, their anger melting into bewilderment.

"I know not what you speak of," Father said, his voice low, "but you should watch your tongue, daughter, lest you find yourself at the mercy of the magistrates."

I swallowed the other words that wanted release, knowing he was right. If I lost control, they would think I had also lost my mind—or worse.

"You will make yourself presentable to Susannah's kin and spend the afternoon in their company. If they offer for you—though after the way you've treated them, I doubt it very much—you will heed my advice and accept them."

I turned away from him, unable to agree to his demands. He didn't wait for me to respond but took Susannah out of the kitchen.

Slowly I walked up the stairs, leaving the kitchen in a mess. My heart was heavier than it had ever been, and I didn't know which way to go. Would Grace really leave me here alone? The very thought left me spiraling into despair. But could I blame her for wanting to go? If the situation were reversed, would I stay for Grace?

I wanted to believe I would, but shame washed over me with the truth. I wouldn't stay here for Grace. As much as I loved her, nothing could have persuaded me to stay in Salem if I had a choice. Yet here I was.

Tapping on the door of our bedroom, I said, "May I come in?"

The door opened, and Grace stood on the other side, her face puffy and red. She moved aside, and I entered our room.

It was bare except for the bed, a washstand, and hooks on the wall to hold our Meeting dresses. To think that I was taking charity from my father was ludicrous. What little he gave me was no comparison to how hard I worked. The accusation made my blood boil all over again.

"I heard you," Grace said as she took a seat on the bed, her shoulders hunched over. "I think the whole ordinary heard."

I closed the door and pressed against it, leaning my head back. "I'm not made for this place."

She offered a soft chuckle. "I don't think anyone is made for this place except the magistrates and men like Father."

"Susannah seems to like it."

"She married well."

"Perhaps that's what I should do."

"Don't be rash. We're still reeling from what happened. We have a lot of decisions to make, and we must take our time."

I moved across the room and sat beside her, cautious hope budding in my heart. "Does that mean you're still thinking about staying here?"

"Of course I am." She turned to me. "We both have big decisions to make. I was only speaking out of my own fear and uncertainty."

I tried not to appear too eager at her words. I didn't want to push her into a decision, though it went against my nature to remain quiet.

"I'm just so—angry and sad and—" She sighed. "I need to tell you about something Luc said."

I waited, my heart in my throat. "You saw him?"

"At your funeral."

Had he told her he loved me? That he was devastated I had died? It would be little consolation, though it would carry me through my darkest hours.

Or worse—had he told Grace he loved her?

"Armour and Company wants me to make the cross-country flight for you," she said. "They will pay me ten thousand dollars regardless of how long it takes to get to California. And if I make it in thirty days, I'll get the ten thousand plus the fifty thousand from Mr. Hearst."

"Grace!" I grabbed her hand, relieved and excited. "That's wonderful. You can still help Mama and Daddy."

"But I don't know how to fly."

"You can learn. I'm sure Luc would teach you."

"He already offered."

"Then why are you uncertain? This sounds ideal."

"Flying frightens me—and—" She looked at me. "What if I died there?"

Neither one of us spoke for a moment.

"You would be stuck here with me." I lifted a shoulder. "Which you said you might do anyway. What's the worst that could happen?"

She nodded, but I could still see uncertainty in her gaze.

"Have Luc take you flying," I said to her, "and you'll never want to look back. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced. I promise. Then make your decision. But consider Mama and Daddy. Just think what all that money could mean for them."

Grace slowly sat up. "I will think about it."

"Good. I wish I could be there to see you fly, but you'll tell me all about it."

"Of course I will."

"And you'll tell me all about meeting Tacy, too, right?" I hadn't forgotten the other surprise from a few days ago. We hadn't seen Isaac since then, and I couldn't help but wonder why he stayed away. Had he overheard us speaking? Did he think we were all mad for claiming to be time-crossers?

"I'm going back to New York tomorrow, and I'll look for her the following morning," Grace promised. "I won't rest until I find her."

"I wish I could be there for that, too."

Grace took my hand and nodded. "So do I."

I let out a sigh. "Father is demanding that we spend the afternoon with Susannah's cousins. He'll pull us downstairs if we don't go on our own."

"I look a fright."

"Good." I smiled. "Mayhap that'll scare them away."

She chuckled, and it made my heart soar. I loved seeing my sister happy.

As Grace and I prepared to meet with Susannah's cousins, I couldn't help but wonder how I might convince Grace to stay with me forever.

Then I realized the answer might lie with Isaac Abbott.