19

HOPE

JULY 7, 1692

SALEM VILLAGE

For the first time that I could remember, I woke up before Grace in 1692. The room above the kitchen was hot and humid, and I had been restless all night—something I had never experienced before. I had woken up with fitful dreams, sweating and exhausted.

But a new day was dawning, one that would hopefully bring a bit of joy to our lives. One of Susannah's cousins was getting married in Salem Towne, and her other cousins, Benjamin and Nathaniel, were heading back to Boston after the wedding. It had been an uncomfortable visit, but thankfully, neither had made an offer for Grace or me—at least, not yet.

The wedding would be a nice change of pace. Bethiah Putnam was an older bride, and she was marrying a widower with a small child. Her family's connection—and his—made this an important occasion, with all the wealthiest and most influential families in Massachusetts Bay Colony in attendance. It promised to be a reprieve from the harsh duties at the ordinary, and if I could manage it, I would use the opportunity to sneak away and find the cousin Pricilla had told us about.

Grace slept closest to the wall and was facing me. A hint of color tinted the eastern sky, outlining her cheek. Was her consciousness even now in 1912? What was she doing? Had she found Tacy? Had she decided whether she would make the trip for Armour and Company?

Did she miss me?

I couldn't wait another moment, so I tapped her on the shoulder. "Grace," I whispered.

She murmured something in her sleep.

"Grace," I said again, "wake up."

Slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times before yawning. "Good morrow, Hope," she said with a lazy smile—and then her eyes opened wider. "Guess what I did?"

I sat up in our bed, bent over so my head would not hit the slanted ceiling above. "What did you do?"

Her lazy smile turned into a grin. "I rode in an aeroplane."

Elation rushed through me as I remembered what it had felt like to take my first flight.

"With Luc?" I asked.

She nodded. "There's so much to tell you."

"I want to know everything."

Grace glanced out the window behind her and said, "We need to get up. Father will expect breakfast before we leave for Salem Towne." She started to scoot around me, but I put my hand on her shoulder.

"What did you think of flying?"

She put her finger to her lips to quiet me. "What if Father or Susannah hears you? They'll think I was on a broomstick last night."

I couldn't help but smile. "Tell me!"

Grace let out a sigh. "It was magnificent—as you said it would be."

I bit my bottom lip to keep from grinning and saying I told you so as a surge of jealousy rushed through me. I pushed it aside, trying to be happy for her. "Did you decide to make the trip to California?"

"Yes. I will go back to Hempstead Plains tomorrow morning, and Luc will give me my first lesson."

A deep and lonely melancholy stole over me unexpectedly. I had to look down for fear I would steal Grace's joy. The last thing I wanted was to discourage her from learning to fly. She needed to do this for our parents—and I wanted her to do it for herself, too.

Thankfully, she was too elated to notice my unhappiness, and she continued.

"I almost forgot! I discovered that Tacy is in California, married to a movie director."

"A movie director?" I said in a stunned whisper. "Our mother is married to a movie director?"

"And," Grace said, fairly bouncing with her news, "she might be an actress—just like you. Maybe we saw her in a movie." She shook her head, her mood dipping. "But her mother was cold and unforgiving, which makes me very sad. She said Tacy left New York twenty-four years ago."

"Which is when she was hanged in this path."

"Yes." Grace nodded. "Her life here must have affected her life there."

"I imagine she was devastated to leave us. Can you imagine how difficult that must have been?"

"I can't wait to find her and ask what happened."

"In California?"

Grace stood and began to dress. "I decided to make the flight after talking to J. B. Thurston, but—"

"You went to Thurston? Daddy told you not to."

"I had to try—but I made it worse." She shook her head, as if to move past that bit of information. "I wired a newspaper in Los Angeles, asking if they can help me find Tacy Barclay, though I said she probably has a married name now. But how many Tacys can there be in California? It's not a common name. Hopefully I'll have an address for her by the time I get there."

"If she's still alive," I added.

"Yes, of course."

I also rose from our bed, not quite as eager as Grace to start the day but knowing I needed to be ready to serve breakfast. I pushed aside her comment about Thurston, hoping he wouldn't cause her more trouble, and began to dress.

"How is Luc?" I asked cautiously, watching Grace's response. "Does he miss me?"

She pulled on her shift—but didn't look at me. She was slow to answer. "Yes, he misses you."

"Did you talk about me?"

"A little."

"What did you say?"

Again, she took her time to respond. "He talked about how different you and I are."

I lifted my eyebrows. "That's all?"

She pulled on her skirt and secured it with her back to me. "Mm-hmm."

"What else did you talk about, then?"

After taking her waistcoat off the hook, she said, "A lot of things."

"Luc talked about a lot of things?" This I couldn't believe. He rarely spoke to me about anything other than aviation.

Grace seemed a little impatient with my questions, though I couldn't imagine why. "He told me about his childhood in Paris and how his father and sister died. He also told me how he came to be an aviator."

I stared at her. "He told you about his family?"

She turned to me, and there was a strange look on her face, almost like guilt. "I'm sorry, Hope."

"Sorry?" I frowned. "Why would you be sorry?"

"I—" She paused. "I don't know."

I took a deep breath and continued to get dressed. "You have nothing to be sorry about. You're simply doing what I asked you to do." I tried to sound convincing. "I'm happy you and Luc are finally becoming friends. It's what I wanted all along."

But was it? Really? I had tried to forget how Luc watched her on the train from Calais to Paris and how he had crossed the airfield in Boston to join her before I was thrown from my aeroplane.

Grace started to brush her hair, and I didn't ask any more questions.

Before I was finished dressing, she went downstairs to begin breakfast. I stayed above, wrestling with my sadness and my jealousy. I wanted Grace to fly with Luc—but I also wished it were me and not her. I wanted to be happy for her, but it was hard when she was enjoying something I would never do again.

But I struggled the most with my sister's growing relationship with Luc.

More than ever, I resolved to convince Isaac to fall in love with Grace and give her one more reason to stay with me. It wouldn't be easy, but I had to try. Hopefully I would see him at the wedding today, and I could start to put my plan into action.

The wedding was held in the groom's home in Salem Towne, off Derby Street. He was a sea merchant and lived close to the harbor in a large house, recently built for his first wife. Bethiah, his new bride, was radiant, standing beside her groom in an expensive gown and new satin slippers as they spoke their vows and signed the court registry. Magistrate William Stoughton presided over the ceremony. As one of the judges of the court of oyer and terminer in the witch trial, he was a powerful individual with deep ties to many of the colony's merchants, politicians, and ministers. He was connected to several of the guests through marriage and family, something that was common and hard to avoid in a small colony.

The wedding was much more subdued than those I attended in 1912. There was no dancing or singing, no decorations or music of any kind. There was a lavish meal, however, following the simple civil ceremony. Many people took their food out of doors where it was hot and humid but offered a slight breeze off the cool water.

I joined Grace, who sat on a bench in the corner of the garden. We hadn't spoken much since that morning, but there was little I could say to her about 1912 while we were here. Besides, I was watching for an opportunity to speak to Isaac.

"There you are," Benjamin Putnam said as he approached with a plate full of food. He'd been staying at the ordinary with his brother, Nathaniel, for the past three days, and he'd eaten more than anyone I'd ever met.

I sat next to Grace and was forced to look up at him.

"I'm happy to get the two of you alone without Nathaniel nearby," he said, looking over his shoulder. He came closer, his voice lowered as he smiled expectantly. "I'm willing to make an offer for either one of you."

I turned to Grace, and she turned to me. I couldn't hide the surprise from my face.

"I have no preference," he continued. "You're both one and the same to me, so I'll leave it up to you. I'm certain Nathaniel will take whoever is left."

My mouth parted—not only at his offer but at his callous comment. I could think of nothing else to say but "No, thank you."

Benjamin turned to Grace, appearing unaffected by my refusal.

She shook her head, looking between me and Benjamin like a cornered animal.

"And you—?" He paused, as if he wasn't sure whether she was Grace or me.

"Grace," she supplied.

"Yes." He nodded. "Do you prefer me or Nathaniel, Grace?"

"Neither," Grace finally said.

Benjamin frowned and pulled back. "Susannah led us to believe you two were desperate."

"Perhaps she is desperate to be rid of us," I said derisively, "but we are not desperate enough to marry you."

That did seem to insult him—but I didn't feel remorse. Not after his heartlessness.

I caught sight of Isaac as he walked up to us—but his eye was on Benjamin. Isaac had been at the ordinary the past few days, watching Benjamin and Nathaniel closely.

"Good day, Isaac," I said, standing at his arrival. "I was about to take a turn in the garden. Would you like to join me?"

He frowned slightly at my eager greeting but recovered quickly. "Of course."

I glanced at Grace, giving her an apologetic smile as I walked away with Isaac. Thankfully, Benjamin took our hint and excused himself. He joined Susannah, shaking his head.

She glared at me.

"'Tis a beautiful day for a wedding," I said quickly to Isaac, turning away from Susannah's anger to look at the garden and out at the harbor where tall, dark masts poked against the backdrop of a bright blue sky. A musty, fish-like scent wafted on the breeze, but it was subtle enough that it wasn't unpleasant.

"'Tis, indeed," he agreed as we came to a stop near the water's edge.

I had a lot to say and not much time to say it. "I was thinking about finding my cousin."

He frowned and spoke quietly. "Your Quaker cousin? Why?"

How did I explain this sudden need to feel connected to this time and place? Other than Grace, Pricilla, and my father, I had no other living relatives that I knew. "She is no longer a Quaker," I reminded him.

"She is a servant, if I remember correctly."

"Do you know who she works for?"

He straightened, and his blue eyes filled with disappointment. "You only sought me out to help you find her?"

I tried to offer him my most convincing smile. "Will you?"

He looked toward the ships and shook his head. "'Tis not wise, Hope."

"I must find her." I swallowed the emotions that threatened to clog my throat. I was not used to feeling so desperate or afraid. So lonely and uncertain. "Now that I know I have relatives, I want to meet them."

He must have heard the longing in my voice because he looked at me with apprehension. "Are you well?"

Shaking my head, I set my plate on a nearby bench, no longer hungry. I wanted to explain to Isaac about losing 1912, but I wasn't sure he'd believe me. Though if there was anyone in 1692 who might, it would be him. He had been such a dear friend for years. Always steadfast and trustworthy, even when I had brushed off his friendship. What would he say if I told him now?

I glanced toward the house to see if Grace was near. One of the bride's sisters had sat beside her on the bench, and they were talking. Would she advise me not to tell Isaac?

"If you want to find her," he said, concern in his voice, "I will help you. I would do anything for you."

Unexpected tears filled my eyes, and I saw myself as I truly was—selfish and thoughtless. After all the years I had ignored him, he would still do anything for me. "You have always been so kind to me, even when I have not been kind to you. Why do you persist?"

"Because I want you to be happy."

His words, so simple, warmed my heart.

"Thank you."

"She doth not live far from here. I'll take you there now, and we can be back before anyone misses us."

"Are you certain?"

Isaac nodded and motioned for me to walk with him along the garden's path.

I cast a glance toward the others, but no one seemed to notice as we walked toward the street and turned to the right.

"Your aunt told me your cousin is named Rachel."

"Who is her employer?" I asked.

"A merchant named Josias Reed. He is a very wealthy and influential man." Isaac looked back the way we had come. "He is at the wedding. 'Tis a good time to seek her out, while the others are celebrating and distracted."

The Reeds' house was only a few doors down. It was also on the water's edge. It wasn't as elaborate, but it was still substantial and foreboding, with slanted eaves and diamond-paned glass windows.

"I will wait here for you," Isaac said.

"You don't need to wait for me." He had already done so much, and I remembered my resolve to turn him toward Grace. "I can walk back on my own. Mayhap Grace would like some company."

He shook his head. "I would never leave you."

Something about the way he said those words made my heart pause. "I care for you deeply, Isaac, and always have." He needed to hear the truth. "But 'tis Grace who loves you."

He frowned, clearly baffled by my words. "Grace?" He shook his head. "Why do you tell me this now?"

"I—" I paused, not sure he would understand. "Susannah brought her cousins to the ordinary and wishes to see us both married and in our own homes. I do not want Grace to marry someone she doth not love."

His gaze was hooded as he regarded me, and then he finally said, "Do you wish to marry one of Susannah's cousins?"

"No." I shook my head, adamant.

"Do you ever plan to marry?"

He was so serious, so intent on my answer, I had to look away. "I know not."

A few seconds passed before he said, "I will wait for you."

I stared at him, wondering what he meant. He would wait to marry me—or wait for me to speak to my cousin?

Not knowing what to say, I turned and walked along the side of the house to the back door, my heart feeling funny.

After I knocked, it took a bit of time, but a young woman appeared behind the half-opened door. I could see the family resemblance in the blond hair and the slant of our noses. She wore a simple gray dress with a white coif, and had a large shawl over her shoulders, held together in front with her hands. She couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen, but she looked tired, as if she had been ill.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Are you Rachel?"

"Yes." She glanced behind me, toward Isaac waiting on the edge of the property. "And who are you?"

"I'm Hope Eaton. I believe we are cousins."

She stared at me, a confused frown on her brow.

"Our aunt, Pricilla Baker, came to visit and told me about you."

Recognition dawned, though she looked skeptical. "And how are we related?"

"Through my mother." I paused, uncertain if I could trust her with my mother's name.

"Tacy?" she asked.

I nodded.

"I wondered about you. They told me you have a twin sister."

"Grace."

"Is she here?"

"She's at the Putnam wedding."

Rachel's pretty blue eyes filled with a longing I couldn't identify. "Mister Reed is at that wedding."

"That's what I heard."

She took a deep breath as she resecured the shawl over her shoulders. It was much too hot for such a large, thick shawl, but perhaps she was still recovering from her illness. "Is there a reason you've come?"

"I wanted to meet you. To tell you that you have cousins in Salem Village. My father owns the ordinary."

"Are you also a time-crosser?" she asked, her voice low, almost angry.

I glanced behind me, but Isaac was looking away. When I returned my focus to Rachel, I nodded. "My other path was 1912, but I recently died there, so this is all I have left. 'Tis one of the reasons I wanted to find family."

She dipped her chin and looked down at the shawl. "My other path is 1882." She shook her head. "'Tis a grand life there. Nothing like this one. There, I have servants. Here, I am one."

"Hope?" Isaac called to me. "We should return."

"If there is anything you ever need," I told Rachel, feeling a kinship with her that went beyond family ties. She understood what it was to be a time-crosser. "Or if you want to talk, send word, and I'll find a way to come."

She let out a weary sigh and shook her head. "I don't receive visitors."

It was all she said, and I wondered if it was because of her illness.

"Fare well, Rachel."

She simply nodded and then stepped back into the house and closed the door.

I slowly returned to Isaac, glancing back at the house, both curious and sad.

"Was it a good meeting?" he asked.

"I'm not certain."

There was a lot I didn't understand—about myself, about Salem, and about my family. The only thing that made sense was the one thing I couldn't have.

1912.