26

GRACE

SEPTEMBER 30, 1912

LOS ANGELES, CA

The Pacific Ocean appeared on the horizon, and despite the problems that had been weighing on me for over a week, my heart leapt at the glorious sight.

After thirty days, five accidents, three days of inclement weather, and over fifty appearances along the way, the West Coast—and sixty thousand dollars—was finally within my grasp.

I had made it, just in time to collect the prize money from William Randolph Hearst—and the ten thousand dollars from Armour and Company. It was a fortune. It would be more than enough for my parents to live comfortably for the rest of their lives and would also guarantee that their orphanage would thrive.

I only wished my heart was light enough to enjoy this moment—and not mourning what Hope was enduring in Salem.

I banked my aeroplane to head slightly south, following the train tracks, with the Vin Fiz Special just behind me. The lush California landscape looked warm and inviting below, making me long for Hope even more. She would love to be here. If it wasn't for her, none of this would have happened.

But she wasn't here. She'd been stuck in the gaol in Salem Towne for the past nine days since claiming her innocence at the ordinary. Every day, Isaac had taken me into Salem Towne to visit her and beg her to let me recant.

But she refused, reminding me that even if I did recant, the others would not. They would probably cast me in shackles, as well.

I also wanted to talk to her about Luc, but she refused to let me say his name.

The conditions in the gaol were abominable. Cold, moldy, and infested with lice and other vermin. The worst part was that she would be required to pay for each day she was incarcerated, as well as for the shackles used to transport her. Thankfully, the gaoler allowed me to bring her food and blankets, though Hope shared them freely with the others. The accused had reached such a number that they were spread between the gaols in Salem Towne, Boston, Cambridge, and Ipswich.

On September 19th, Goodman Giles Corey had been pressed to death with heavy rocks across the road from the Salem gaol because he refused to stand trial for witchcraft. On the 22nd, Ann Pudeator and seven other men and women, including Giles' wife, Martha, had been hanged. It was the darkest day so far, and had only added to the pain and uncertainty of seeing Hope in the gaol. Rachel was still pregnant with her unborn child, sparing her from the noose—but for how long?

A sharp wind rocked my aeroplane, tearing my thoughts away from Salem to focus on this important moment.

The plan was to land in Long Beach, California, just outside of Los Angeles. It was about noon, which meant I would still have time to look for Tacy this evening. Mama had said she'd come with me, and though I was eager to end the flight, I was most excited about meeting my other mother.

I finally found the beach where I would land. There were at least a thousand people lining the runway that had been marked out for me. The train wasn't far behind, so I passed over the crowd a few times, waving at them, until the train was near the beach. The reporters on board wanted to be present for the landing, and I wanted Luc and my parents to be there, as well.

In the past week and a half, Luc and I had had many conversations about my time-crossing gift, and he had talked with Mama and Daddy about it, as well. I told him what was happening in Salem with Hope, and he was beginning to accept everything he'd learned.

But what he didn't understand—and what I was struggling to accept myself—was the distance I had put between us. I couldn't continue to offer him my heart if I wasn't staying in 1912—and the more I saw Hope suffer in 1692, the more I knew I couldn't leave her. I didn't want to leave her. Life without Hope was unimaginable.

She was my sister, my dearest friend in the world. The very thought of never seeing her again—or worse, leaving her in Salem when she was in the gaol, awaiting her trial—tore at the very fabric of my being.

A strong wind blew off the ocean, making my descent onto the beach a bit rocky. The last thing I needed was to plow into the crowd. Sweat beaded on my brow as I slowly lowered the aeroplane to the beach, fighting every second of the way. When the wheels touched the ground, I killed the engine, allowing the aeroplane to come to a stop.

The roar of the crowd was deafening.

For a second, I just sat in the cockpit, staring at the sky. There was a sense of accomplishment—but more relief that it was over. I was happy I had done it, though I had no desire ever to fly again. It was stressful and nerve-wracking on the best days. Terrifying and miserable on the others.

Several people moved past the barricade, including Luc, as I finally pulled myself together and stood in the cockpit. I waved at the crowd as Luc stopped beside the aeroplane, grinning up at me. With a smile, I reached down to accept his help, and he put his hands at my waist. He lowered me to the ground and then wrapped me in his arms.

"Congratulations," he whispered for my ears only. "You were magnificent, my little bird."

"Thank you." I held him tight. "I couldn't have done this without you."

He pulled back, his eyes shining with admiration. "I will tell you this a hundred times, but you will not believe me: you are a natural-born flyer. You flew brilliantly, and I am very proud of you."

My cheeks warmed under his praise, but before I could respond, I was bombarded by dozens of people vying for my attention. The mayor of Los Angeles had arrived, as had the president of the California Aeronautical Club. My parents were ushered to my side for a brief picture, and then I was brought to a makeshift stage to receive the key to the city of Los Angeles by Mayor George Alexander. I was also presented with a check from one of William Randolph Hearst's employees, and another from Armour and Company. Money would be wired to Mr. Lorenz in the morning to pay for my parents' orphanage.

But all I wanted now was to find Tacy.

The Los Angeles subdivision of Westmoreland Place was a gated community of beautiful, stately homes that were elegant but not as glamourous as their East Coast counterparts. I looked out the cab window as we pulled into the neighborhood around the supper hour. The sun was setting low in the west, and shadows elongated the tall palm trees.

Mama sat next to me, holding my hand. She squeezed it as we drew closer to 59 Westmoreland Place.

"I hope she's home," I said. I hadn't even considered whether Tacy would be there until we were almost at her front door. "I'll be so disappointed if she's not."

"We can come back another time," Mama reassured me. "Perhaps we'll need to set up an appointment."

I hoped we wouldn't have to wait any longer. Not only was I thirteen days from my birthday, but I had waited months for this meeting.

The cab pulled up to the curb of a beautiful Tudor-influenced home with dark timber framing and cream stucco. A thick, green ivy grew up the side of the elegant two-story house, and the landscaping was expertly groomed with an inviting sidewalk meandering to the wide front porch.

"Shall I wait?" the cabbie asked.

"Just for a moment," Mama said, handing him his fare. "If the family is at home, I'll wave you off."

"Very good."

I stepped out of the automobile, and Mama followed. I was wearing one of the best day gowns I had brought. It was a pale blue linen dress with blue embroidery and a lace chemisette and cuffs. My oversized hat kept the sun out of my eyes as we walked up the concrete steps and onto the sidewalk. Mama was also dressed well and was so gentle as she encouraged me with a smile. I wanted to make a good impression on Tacy and was much more nervous than I had anticipated.

"Just breathe," Mama said. "Life is full of twists and turns. We can't always predict which way it will go, but it's a magnificent journey when we let it take us where it wants."

I returned her smile, thankful she was there with me.

When we reached the front door, I took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. A maid in a black dress and white apron opened the door and greeted us.

"May I help you?" she asked in an Irish accent.

"Is Mrs. Bennet at home?" My voice caught on my nerves.

"May I ask who is calling?"

"Miss Grace Cooper and Dr. Margaret Cooper."

The maid's eyes widened. "Grace Cooper, the aviatrix?"

I nodded, surprised she had heard about me.

"Won't you come in?" She opened the door wider and stepped aside for us to enter the cool receiving hall. Her wide-eyed gaze followed me as Mama waved away the cab driver. "I will tell Mrs. Bennet you're here."

"Thank you."

We waited in the tasteful foyer as the maid disappeared into a room off to the left. My heart was beating hard, and I tried to take another steadying breath.

"She's here," I whispered to Mama. "What if she doesn't want to meet me?"

"She will want to meet you."

"Is this strange for you?" I asked. "Meeting my other mother?"

Mama's chuckle was sweet and tender. "What do you think?"

I took her hand and shook my head. "This is a strange existence, isn't it?"

"It seems to get stranger and stranger. I can't imagine how Tacy will feel when she learns who you are. It will be a complete shock."

The door opened again, and a woman entered the hallway. She was beautiful, in her mid-forties, with blond hair and that familiar nose. She resembled Pricilla so much, it took me by surprise—though it shouldn't have. They were sisters.

"You look like her," Mama whispered.

Tacy was wearing a simple but elegant house dress of dark plum with a long necklace. She had a pleasant, if somewhat curious, smile on her face.

"Hello," she said as she extended her hand to Mama first and then to me. "I'm Tacy Bennet. How do you do?"

"Hello, I'm Maggie Cooper," Mama said, "and this is my daughter—" She paused, and I wondered if she had almost said, and your daughter. "Grace."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Tacy said. "I've read all about your flight across America, Miss Cooper. You can imagine my great honor and surprise to welcome you into my home. Won't you come into the parlor?"

My pulse thrummed as we followed her into the beautiful front room, which had large windows facing the street and the manicured side lawn. The room was gracefully decorated with expensive furnishings, though it was not ostentatious. Large potted ferns adorned the corners of the room.

"Please have a seat. I've asked Katie to bring us tea."

"We're sorry it's so close to the supper hour," I said as Mama and I took seats next to each other on the sofa, while Tacy sat on the chair opposite from us. "I just arrived in Los Angeles at noon and had a few things that I needed to do before we could come."

Tacy smiled, but her brow came together in confusion again. "You just completed your cross-country flight at noon, and you came here? Am I to assume you'd like to discuss making a movie with our film company?"

I glanced at Mama and then leaned forward, not wanting to make Tacy wait another moment. "This may come as a surprise—actually, I know it will." I tried not to get emotional and had to stop for a second. "Are you Tacy Barclay of New York City?"

Her frown deepened, and she started to look more suspicious than curious. "Yes."

"And—" I paused, hoping I had not gotten this terribly wrong, because if I had, she would think I had lost my mind. "Are you the same Tacy Howlett who once lived in Massachusetts? A very long time ago?"

Tacy's face became completely still and devoid of confusion. In its place was shock—pure and complete. "How do you know?"

I briefly closed my eyes as the truth sank deep within my soul. This was my other mother. When I opened my eyes again, tears rimmed my lashes and fell down my cheeks.

"I'm one of the twin girls you gave birth to in 1667."

Her mouth slid open, and her chest rose and fell on short, quick breaths. She stared at me, shaking her head. "What did you just say?"

"I'm Grace, one of your daughters."

Tacy stood, her face pale. "You're that Grace?"

I also stood, nodding. "This is my second path. Maggie is my mother and is also a time-crosser."

Mama rose, wiping her cheeks, as she extended her hand to Tacy once again. This time meeting her in a way that could not be expressed but only felt.

Tacy took Mama's hand—almost like an anchor—as she continued to stare at me. "You're my daughter? How is this possible? I had no idea what other path you occupied, so I had not even tried to look for you here."

"We only just realized ourselves," I told her as I wiped at my tears, "or I would have come much sooner."

Tacy let go of Mama's hand and took a step toward me. We were the same height. She looked me over with awe and then pulled me into her arms.

I closed my eyes as I embraced the mother I had never known. So many emotions swam through my heart. There was so much to say—so much to hear. But all we could do was hug each other. The irony was that her physical body had given birth to my physical body in 1667—the bodies we were not currently occupying. But our hearts, our souls, our very spirits were the same, and that was all that mattered.

When she finally pulled back, her face was washed in tears, but she was smiling. "Thank God He brought us together." She briefly glanced at the ceiling, a grin on her face as she shook her head. "He has such a way, doesn't He?"

I laughed. "He certainly does."

"Sit. There is so much I long to know. Where is Hope? How did you learn about me?"

"Sit beside her," Mama said as she moved out of the way, giving Tacy space to sit on the sofa with me.

"And you!" Tacy turned to Mama. "You're also a time-crosser? When I died in Boston, my biggest fear was that the girls would have no guide. I knew that Uriah would remove them from my family, and it has plagued me for twenty-four years. But the entire time, they had a guide—right here. I'm shocked—and so very pleased."

"We think that's why they are twins," Mama said to Tacy. "Because they have two time-crossing mothers."

"This is unbelievable." Tacy studied me as if trying to memorize every detail. "Tell me, where is Hope?" But then something dawned in her eyes, and she leaned close to me. "Is she that Hope Cooper? Who flew over the English Channel and died in Boston in July?"

I nodded, the truth still stinging with an intensity that made me catch my breath. "She's in 1692—and wishes she could meet you herself. She sends her love and is eagerly awaiting my report tomorrow." I glanced at Mama, my mood falling. "But she's being held in the Salem gaol under accusation of witchcraft."

Tacy closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she opened them again. "I feared such a thing might happen to you both, knowing that your time would align with the trials. But I did not look for your names in the history books. It was too painful."

"We didn't even know your name until we went to Ann Pudeator and asked her." I paused, not wanting to burden Tacy with Ann's fate. "And then a good friend of ours went to Sandwich on our behalf and found the rest of your family. Pricilla came to visit us."

Tacy grabbed my hand. "My sister?"

I nodded. "She told me that if I found you, I was supposed to say she is sorry."

Pain passed over Tacy's face as she said, "I forgave her a long time ago. She has nothing to be sorry about." She turned to Mama to explain. "I was a Quaker in Massachusetts—am a Quaker still—but when I met Uriah, I left the faith and followed the Puritan ways. My family was angry, because I had not yet made my final decision and was still living in New York in 1888. Our time-crossing mother had always encouraged us not to marry or have children before we chose our final path. My sister, Pricilla, denounced me and refused to speak to me—until I came back to my family. Then she embraced me and the girls and encouraged me to keep sharing my faith. She tried to fight for me when I was arrested and sentenced to hang, but there was nothing she could do. I knew she would feel guilty, but it wasn't her fault."

"How very sad," Mama said. "How was it that you were hanged?"

"It didn't take me long to return to the Quaker faith. I hated that women were not treated as equals in the Puritan community. When I stood up to Uriah, his real character appeared, and our relationship deteriorated. I knew I had made a dire mistake, so I returned to my family, took back my old name, and tried to make up for the time I had lost. I began preaching equality and freedom to those in Boston who would listen, but I was arrested and sentenced to hang. Uriah was so angry at me and so worried about what others in his community would say if they knew he'd married a Quaker that he let them hang me without a fight. He took the girls away from me in prison, and that was the last I heard of him before I died."

"I'm so sorry," Mama said.

"I was impetuous and headstrong," Tacy continued as she looked at me. "I should have tried to fight for my marriage because I did love Uriah. But I could not abide his treatment of me. I would have stayed in the 1600s forever, if I could, to be with you and Hope."

"You remind me of Hope," I told her. "She's also impetuous and headstrong."

Mama laughed and nodded. "She is, indeed."

"I will pray for her," Tacy said. "And you." She frowned. "It's been twenty-four years and you're still crossing? How is that possible?"

"I inherited a different mark from Mama," I said. "Marks on the back of your head give you twenty-five years. I'll need to make my final decision in less than two weeks."

"You must be torn, especially with Hope stuck in 1692."

"Very torn. I love Hope and want to stay with her, but—" I looked down at my hands, thinking of this life—but especially about Luc.

"I miss my family in Massachusetts," Tacy said, still holding my hand. "And I have a very poor relationship with my mother here—but that is another story. When I came to Los Angeles in 1888, I didn't think I would ever find happiness again. But I met Grant Bennet, and he has been such a blessing from God. We've built a very good life for ourselves. You have three younger sisters here, and only one of them is a time-crosser. I haven't even told them about my life in the 1600s because I don't want to burden them." She let out a sigh. "I tell you this to let you know that no matter what you choose, God has blessings in store for you that you can't even imagine. So don't be afraid to take the life you want."

A noise on the porch indicated that a group of people were entering the house.

"Speaking of your sisters," she said with a smile, letting go of my hand. "They're just getting home." Her gentle gaze rested on my face. "I hope you won't mind that I cannot tell them who you really are."

"Of course not. I didn't come here to complicate your life."

"I know, dear. But they will be thrilled to meet you as the daring aviatrix, Grace Cooper. And I will welcome you any time you want to come. There is still a lot I want to know, and I'm sure there is a lot you want to know, so we will meet often. And no matter what you choose on October 12th, I will be forever grateful that you found me and that God blessed me with the knowledge that you were guided with this special gift. I love you Grace—and I love Hope, too. Very much. Please tell her."

I nodded. "And we've always loved you."

Her eyes crinkled at the edges as she smiled at me, and then, in the next second, three beautiful young women entered the parlor with parcels from a shopping trip in hand. Their excited chatter came to a halt when they realized there were guests present.

Mama, Tacy, and I rose as Tacy said, "Girls, you'll never guess who has come to visit."

And they wouldn't. But it was enough that Tacy knew.