24

GRACE

SEPTEMBER 10, 1912

SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS

The rooster's crow echoed across the empty Illinois State Fairgrounds. I slowly opened my eyes and blinked away the sleep as I looked out the long, narrow window of the sleeper car. A lone piece of paper blew across the barren fairground and hit the wheel of the Vin Fiz Flyer, just in front of the grandstand. It stayed there, flapping in the wind for a second before it continued.

Rolling onto my back, I looked at the ceiling just above my head. The sleeper was comfortable—surprisingly so—but it was strange to know that just beyond the curtain there were eight other people sleeping. And one of them was Luc.

But my thoughts were on something else entirely. I still couldn't believe Hope's suggestion last night. All these years, I had been tormented by the ominous words of a dusty history book—and it was Hope herself who told me I needed to accuse her.

I put my forearm over my eyes and stifled a groan. How could I fight against Hope and history? Her final words to me before we went to sleep last night were true.

"We're running out of time."

Susannah had not come out of her room the night before, but she would probably be rested enough to pretend affliction in the morning or afternoon—and then both of us would be hauled away.

At least I had today to contemplate my options—which were few.

It didn't pay to try to sleep any longer, so I quietly pulled on my robe and went to the washroom at the end of the hall, where I completed my toilette and rebraided my hair. Breakfast wouldn't be ready for another hour, so I went back to my berth to write a little before the others woke up. I had promised at least a few lines every day to the New York Globe, which would be wired back to New York before we left Springfield to head southwest.

"Grace?" Mama whispered through the closed curtain a few minutes later. "Are you awake?"

I set down my pad of paper and pencil and pulled the curtain aside, offering her a smile.

We hadn't had as much time together as I would have liked since the trip started. Every day, I made three legs of our journey. Each one was about sixty miles in length and took me a little over an hour to complete. The train was usually close behind, since I followed the tracks, and at each stop I would get a refueling, as well as any maintenance that was necessary. On these breaks, I also ate, made public appearances for Vin Fiz, and took care of other needs. It made for a long, busy day, and when night fell, I was usually exhausted and ready to sleep.

But Mama was here now, and I motioned for her to climb into my berth with me.

"I was hoping you'd be awake," she said quietly as she sat on the bed and closed the curtains for privacy. She was still in her nightgown and robe, her hair up in a night kerchief.

"Do you need something?" I asked.

"No. I just wanted to talk. I know we have a later start this morning, so I thought it would be a good time."

I smiled as I leaned against the headboard. "What do you want to talk about?"

She looked down at the quilt on my bed and touched one of the loose threads. "Shall we start with Luc," she asked quietly, "or end with him?"

Even though she wasn't looking at me, I still dropped my gaze. "Is it that obvious?"

"It's hard to hide the look of love on a young woman's face."

I covered my warm cheeks with my hands, surprised Mama had seen it so easily. For years, when I thought I had been in love with Isaac, no one had noticed. Perhaps what I had felt for him wasn't the kind of love I felt for Luc.

That thought stopped me in my tracks. Wasn't I in love with Isaac anymore?

"Don't worry," Mama said with a smile. "It's written all over his face, too."

I groaned and pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging my legs close.

"What?" She laid her hand on my knee. "What's wrong? Your father and I love Luc. He's kind, respectful, intelligent, and his faith runs deep. We've had wonderful conversations with him on the train as we've followed your flights. What else could you want?"

"It's not that," I said. "I think Luc is wonderful."

She nodded, and her smile fell. "You've decided to stay in 1692? Is that the trouble?"

"That's not it—I mean, it is part of the problem, but—" I paused, not wanting to admit the truth. "Remember? Hope is in love with him."

"Ah." Mama bit her bottom lip and sighed. "I had forgotten. I can see how that would be problematic."

"Even if she wasn't in love with him, there is still the matter of my upcoming birthday." My shoulders drooped. "I was planning to tell you when we got to California, but I-I think I should stay in 1692 for Hope. I can't imagine being away from her or leaving her there alone. We've been together all our lives. There's no one else who could possibly understand what we've been through." I shook my head and lowered my gaze again. "Last night she told me I need to accuse her of witchcraft."

"What?" Mama's voice betrayed her surprise.

I quickly told her how Hope had overheard Susannah's plans.

"Will you follow through with it?" she asked me.

"That's the strange part. For years, I've known I would accuse Hope."

"What?" she asked again, frowning.

"I saw it in a history book and kept this horrid secret locked away in my heart. I had no idea how it would come about. But the ironic thing is that it's Hope's idea! I've been plagued with this knowledge, and I'm not as guilty as I thought I would be."

Despite the situation, Mama smiled. "It's proof that we spend far too much time worrying about things we don't understand." She studied me for a moment. "Perhaps Hope has the right idea. I'm not an advocate for lying to the authorities or admitting to a crime you didn't commit—but it might be the only way to beat them at their own game."

"But she'll have to stay in prison, and I don't know how long she'll be there."

"If it's something she's willing to do for you, then you might need to let her." She studied me with her clear, blue eyes. "Sacrificial love hasn't always come easy for Hope. She's so single-minded, she often only thinks of herself. It heartens me to know she has made this offer for you. Perhaps being stuck in 1692 has softened her."

I thought about Hope's behavior the past few months and nodded. "I have seen a change in her."

"Brokenness changes our hearts. We either become bitter and angry, or more compassionate, selfless, and loving. I'm happy to know she's letting her brokenness change her for the good."

"Me, too." I leaned my head against the backrest and let out a deep sigh. "I don't think I can accuse her, though. It's not in my nature to do something so horrible."

"Pray about it. You don't need to make your decision right now."

"There are so many hard choices to make."

"I know."

"And I need to stay focused on what I'm doing here. I really want to finish this in thirty days or less—and I want to find Tacy."

Mama nodded. "And somewhere in all of that, you have to decide where you're going to stay—and," she said more quietly, "if you're going to tell your sister that you've fallen in love with Luc."

I lowered my eyes.

Mama placed her hands on either side of my face. "I love you with all my heart and soul, Grace. You and your sister." She lowered her hands and put them on my upraised knees. "I had accepted the fact that I would never have my own children, so when I became pregnant with you and your sister, I was overjoyed. But from the day I knew you were on your way until this one, I have always known that your times are in God's hands.

"I want to give you the same gift my parents gave me—and that's the freedom to make the best decision for you. If that means 1692, then you have mine and Daddy's blessing to stay there. I will miss you every day of my life, but I will know you are where you belong. If it's 1912, then I will cheer you on and support your decision. Whatever you decide, I will love you for the rest of my life."

"Thank you, Mama." I leaned forward and gave her a hug.

"And tell Hope I love her," she said, her voice just above a whisper. "She's exactly where she's supposed to be, and the twenty-four years I had with her were a gift from God."

"She loves you, too."

"I know she does." She patted my knee. "If it's any help, I think you should tell her that you're in love with Luc—and let her help you decide which course to take. You might be surprised." She smiled. "I should probably get dressed. Everyone will be up soon, and we must get going if we want to make it to California on time."

"Okay."

As she pushed aside the curtain, I looked up, and my gaze collided with Luc's.

He was standing in the aisle, wearing a robe over his pajamas, holding a small towel and his toothbrush in his hand. His dark hair was damp, and his face looked freshly shaved.

My heart fell as I pulled my sheets up to my chest, though my nightgown and robe were as decent as my regular clothes. But it was more than my lack of dress that made me feel exposed and vulnerable.

It was all the things I had just said.

Mama paused as Luc and I stared at each other.

"Perhaps I should leave you two with some privacy," she said as she moved away and climbed into her berth.

I could almost see the questions racing around in Luc's mind—yet I wasn't unhappy he had heard us. Perhaps I had wanted him to. I hated keeping the truth about my time-crossing from him.

As Mama closed the curtains on her berth, I climbed out of mine and stood face to face with Luc.

He stared at me, but it was impossible to know what he was thinking.

"Should we go outside?" I whispered.

Nodding, he set his things aside and followed me down the aisle to the door.

The morning sun was low on the eastern horizon, painting the fairgrounds and train in muted reds, yellows, and pinks.

I had forgotten to put on my slippers and didn't realize it until I stepped out of the sleeper car. The metal was cold and rough on my bare feet, so I took a seat on the steps, my legs weak from all the emotions running through me. What would Luc think about what he had heard? Would he believe me?

Luc followed me silently, coming out of the train a little slower.

"Will you sit with me?" I asked him.

He took the spot next to me, though it was tight. He smelled of soap and aftershave. "Are you going to tell me what you and your mother were discussing?"

I took a deep breath. Outside of Mama, Daddy, and Hope, I had never told anyone else the truth about my time-crossing.

"My family and I have a special gift," I began slowly, watching him for his reaction. "My mother has it, her mother and father had it, their parents, and so on. This gift means we are born as time-crossers."

He frowned as he stared at me, confusion in his gaze.

"I have a mark." I turned and lifted my braid to show him the sunburst birthmark on the back of my head, then faced him again. "It marks me as a time-crosser. Every night when I go to sleep here, I wake up the next day in 1692. And when I go to sleep there, I wake up here—without any time passing while I'm away. I only have twenty-five years to decide which path I want to keep and which one I'll forfeit."

He continued to stare at me, and I could see he was processing everything I said, though he made no attempt to ask questions.

"I have two identical bodies and one conscious mind that goes between them." I paused, knowing this part would be even harder to believe. "Hope has the same mark, and until she died at the air meet, she and I traveled back and forth together. Now she is only alive in 1692."

Luc's face revealed nothing—no indication if he believed me or not.

"On my twenty-fifth birthday, on October 12th, I must decide if I am going to stay here—or if I will stay with Hope in 1692. If I decide to stay in 1692, my body will die here, and my consciousness will remain there."

I finished speaking and waited for him to respond.

It took a few moments, but he finally said, "Grace, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm explaining what you heard."

"I heard your mother say, ‘I think you should tell her that you're in love with Luc.'"

My eyebrows lifted high. "That's what you heard?"

He nodded.

"You didn't hear us talking about the problems I'm having in 1692? Or what Hope suggested we do?"

He looked really confused as he said, "No."

I moaned as I lowered my face into my hands. "I can't believe I told you all of that."

He was so quiet, I lifted my head to look at him.

"It's really true?" he asked, this time with less skepticism and more amazement.

I nodded. "Do you believe me?"

He tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear. "I have never known anyone I trust more or believe in so completely. I have nothing but respect and admiration for you, and I know your heart is pure and good. It might take me a little while to wrap my mind around something so fantastical, but I know you would not lie to me. I believe you."

Tears threatened as I pressed my lips together. To know that he believed me and trusted me meant more than almost anything else. "I've kept the secret my whole life," I said in a hushed voice. "You can't imagine how hard it is."

"I can imagine it would be very difficult. Does your father know?"

"Yes." I smiled. "He guessed the truth when he and Mama were just falling in love. She saved a man's life in 1861 with medical knowledge she had from 2001, and he became suspicious. Then he noticed other strange things about her that couldn't be explained any other way."

"Your mother lives in 2001?"

"Lived—she had to make her choice, too, and she chose my father."

"She chose this life for him?"

"Yes."

"Have you decided which one you're going to choose?"

I wanted to tell him yes—but I couldn't bear to say it. I had grown to love Luc, but I wasn't sure if it was the kind of love needed to sustain a marriage—or to take me from Hope. And I didn't know how deep his feelings ran, either.

"I'm not sure." I looked down at the fabric of my robe and picked at a piece of lint.

Luc took my hand in his, drawing my gaze back to him. "About the other thing I heard..."

Warmth filled my cheeks, but I wouldn't deny it. I wanted to be completely honest with him. "That I'm in love with you?" I whispered.

His eyes were full of longing as he said, "Is that true, as well?"

The morning sun was so calm, so new, that it felt warm and promising. Shadows from the nearby grandstand stretched lazily across the open field where the Vin Fiz Flyer sat, waiting. But all I could think about right now—all I wanted to think about—was telling Luc what I knew to be true.

"I am in love with you," I told him, though I knew it would cost me. But even if I couldn't choose him, I couldn't live with myself if he didn't know.

He lifted his hand to the side of my face, his fingers slipping into my hair. I leaned into it.

When he set his forehead against mine, he whispered, "Et je t'aime."

I didn't even need to ask what it meant, because my heart knew. A deep well of affection overflowed within me. The longing that had been building for weeks pushed against my better judgment, wanting to be released.

I went into his arms, and he embraced me.

Perhaps I was being selfish, but I didn't care about anything else in that moment. All I wanted was Luc. His arms, his lips, his heart.

So when he lifted my chin with his fingers and questioned me with his eyes, I nodded. I loved him, and I wanted to feel his love surround me.

He lowered his lips to mine, and the longing I had felt for him flooded me with warmth. I felt like I could drown in the sensations.

It was the most spectacular kiss that had ever been.

Yet as I reveled in Luc's embrace and marveled that he loved me, all I could think about was waking up next to Hope and trying to explain my betrayal.