September Sky (American Journey Book 1) (30 page)

BOOK: September Sky (American Journey Book 1)
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"You are just bound and determined to make an honest woman of me, aren't you?"

"Indeed, I am, Miss O'Malley. I love you and want to make you my wife."

Rose blushed.

"You are something, Wyatt Fitzpatrick."

"Does that mean you'll marry me?"

"Oh, of course it does, you old fool. I'd marry you if you'd put a rubber band on my finger."

Wyatt laughed heartily. When he finally collected himself, he reached across the table and grabbed Rose's hands.

"Thank you, Rose, for making me a very happy man."

She sighed.

"You're welcome, Wyatt."

Rose looked at him more intently.

"Have you given some thought as to when you want to make this union of ours official?"

"I have," Wyatt said. "I think a church wedding in late August with all of our friends and acquaintances would be just the thing."

"I agree. What about a honeymoon?"

"I've thought about that too. How does September in New England sound?"

"It sounds lovely," Rose said.

She rubbed his hand.

"I suppose you want me to quit my job at the library."

"Only if that's what you want. I want you to be happy, Rose, whether you're filing company reports or raising our six children."

"Six? Oh, my! You
have
thought of everything."

"I'm nothing if not prepared," Wyatt said.

"I'll have to give that part some thought, Wyatt, but I do like your thinking."

"I thought you would."

Rose smiled.

"This has been quite a night, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Where do you suggest we end it?"

"How about our special place?" Wyatt asked with a devilish grin. "It's been far too long since we've explored our creative sides, 'Mrs. Smith.' Do you agree?"

"Yes, I do."

Rose blushed again.

"I don't know what life as your wife is going to be like, but I do know one thing."

"What's that?" Wyatt asked.

"It won't be boring."

 

CHAPTER 49: CHUCK

 

Charlotte Trudeau Emerson settled onto a smooth wooden bench on the Midway and stared at the man who had asked for her hand. She looked at Chuck with eyes that revealed suspicion, concern, and considerable amusement.

"Let me see if I understand you correctly. You and Justin are time travelers who came here from 2016 and have to return to a house in Los Angeles by the middle of September or you will be stuck here forever. Is that right?"

"That's the sum of it," Chuck said.

Charlotte laughed.

"I thought you were going to tell me that you had a common-law wife or were up to your ears in debt. I'm grateful it's nothing serious."

"You don't believe me."

Charlotte smiled.

"I don't. I love you dearly, Charles, but I don't believe a word you've said."

Chuck wasted no time digging out his cell phone, which he had managed to keep operational with a small solar charger. He went straight to the photos, which he had edited and organized, and gave Charlotte roughly the same presentation he had given Wyatt.

Five minutes later Charlotte stared at Chuck again. Only this time, she looked at him with eyes that revealed amazement, excitement, and considerable interest.

"Have I made my case, Mrs. Emerson, or do I have to show you more video?"

Charlotte sighed.

"No. I believe you. I may be losing my mind, but I believe you."

Chuck laughed.

"You haven't lost your mind. You've opened it. Everything I've told you tonight is the truth, including the part where I said I loved you and couldn't live without you."

Charlotte looked at him sheepishly.

"I never doubted
that
."

"That's good," Chuck said.

Charlotte turned away and looked at the water and the eastern sky. Both had darkened and mellowed during the long walk back.

"Tell me more about this house. How does it send you from one time to another?"

"The house itself does nothing," Chuck said. "The actual time portal is a limestone tunnel
under
the house. Time travelers activate the portal by passing through it with gypsum crystals that have been synchronized with crystals embedded in the tunnel's ceiling. The professor who sent us on this trip gave us two of these gems – a white one with considerable power and a blue one with limited power. The person who ransacked my cabin took the white crystal, leaving Justin and me with just one ticket back to the future. We have until September 18 to use it."

Charlotte looked at Chuck.

"That explains a lot, but it doesn't explain everything," Charlotte said. "Why did you come to Galveston? Why are you so interested in Wyatt and his company? If you are from the future, surely you could have learned everything about this city and its leaders before you left."

"You're right. I could have," Chuck said. "I came here for a different reason, a reason that has everything to do with Wyatt but little to do with a book or Galveston or even 1900."

"I don't understand."

"I came here to prevent Wyatt from being tried, convicted, and executed for a murder I believe he did not commit – or rather has not committed."

"This is all very confusing."

"I know. That's why I'm going to save most of what I have to say for another day. There is no reason to tell you everything now," Chuck said. "There is, however, one thing I must tell you before I can accept your answer to my proposal."

"What's that?"

"If you marry me, you'll have to leave this behind. You'll have to leave 1900, your friends, and your family forever."

Charlotte stared blankly into space.

"I see marriage to a time traveler carries a steep price."

She turned to face Chuck.

"Why must
I
be the one to leave?" Charlotte asked. "Why can't you stay? You seem to like it here."

Chuck took a deep breath.

"I do. I like this time and this city a lot, but what I like is not the only consideration."

"Please continue."

"Justin wants to go back," Chuck said. "With or without Emily, he wants to go back to 2016. He wants to return to the time and place and the comfortable life he knows. So do I."

"I see," Charlotte said.

"There is one more thing."

"What now?"

Chuck paused before answering. He detected irritation and resentment in Charlotte's voice and didn't want to blow his last best chance at marital happiness on a few ill-chosen words.

"The library, your house, this town, and all you see around us will be rubble in less than two months. A hurricane of epic proportions will roll through Galveston in early September and take thousands of lives and buildings with it. Only the sturdiest structures will survive."

"I understand."

Charlotte rose from her seat, looked up and down the mostly unoccupied boardwalk, and then stepped forward. When she reached the edge of the walkway, she folded her arms and stared at the restless sea. She didn't look at or speak to Chuck for several minutes.

Chuck gave her some space. He didn't speak or get off the bench or make any kind of noise. He didn't want to even accidentally signal impatience after giving the woman he loved an ultimatum. As the minutes began to accumulate, however, he felt compelled to say something.

"If you need more time, Charlotte, then take it," Chuck said. "Take another day or a week or even a month. There's no hurry. You don't have to give me an answer tonight."

"But I do."

Charlotte turned around and gazed at Chuck with eyes that had filled with tears.

"If I don't give you an answer tonight, I'll give you the answer you don't want to hear. I'll go with my head and not with my heart and play it safe, just as I have for more than two years."

Chuck got off the bench and walked across the boardwalk to the woman he now knew he could never leave. When he reached her, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her close.

"You don't have to do anything," Chuck said.

Charlotte didn't answer his statement directly. She instead wiped away a tear, put her hands on his shoulders, and gazed at Chuck for more than a minute with sad, vulnerable eyes.

When she finally spoke, she did so in a soft, measured, deliberate voice. She spoke like a woman who had finally made peace with the choices life had put on her table.

"There's a train that leaves Houston every day for Texarkana, Little Rock, and points beyond. I'd like to be on that train Sunday night. I'd like to go home one last time."

Chuck felt his stomach twist as the guilt set in.

"Then go," Chuck said. "Take all the time you need, Charlotte. Leave tomorrow, if you want. I'll be here when you get back. I'm not going anywhere."

Charlotte wiped away another tear and smiled sweetly.

"You don't understand, Charles. If I go to Missouri, I don't want to go simply to tell my parents and brother why I can never see them again. I want to
show
them why."

Charlotte touched Chuck's face.

"I want them to meet the man I love and see that I have finally moved on."

"Then I'll go too," Chuck said. "I would love to meet them."

"I know you would."

Charlotte sighed.

"If you go, though, I don't want you to go as an acquaintance or a friend or even my fiancé," Charlotte said. She kissed him softly. "I want you to go as my husband."

 

CHAPTER 50: CHUCK

 

Old Mines, Missouri – Wednesday, July 18, 1900

 

Chuck laughed to himself as he pushed open the screen door and heard a loud, lengthy creak. If there was one sound that set the Midwest apart from the rest of the United States, it was the sound of a porch door opening. He stepped onto the porch and walked to the railing, where a barefoot woman in a plain cotton dress stared blankly at a thick grove of oak and ash.

"Good morning, Mrs. Townsend. Your mother told me I could find you out here."

Charlotte turned away from the trees, which filtered the rays of a rising sun, and offered her husband a gentle smile. She looked both tired and invigorated.

"Good morning."

"You're not wearing any shoes," Chuck said. "Is that the custom in these parts?"

Charlotte laughed.

"It is for me. I rarely wore shoes in the summer as a child. I preferred to run around in my bare feet, just like my brother and his friends. I guess old habits are hard to break."

Chuck walked up to his wife, put an arm around her shoulders, and kissed her on the side of the head. He smiled at the thought of a younger Charlotte running barefoot through the woods.

"Were you a tomboy?"

"I was a
lot
of things," Charlotte said.

"Now that's a statement that needs further explanation."

"I guess you could say I was a problem child."

"You? I find that hard to believe," Chuck said.

"Believe it."

"Really?"

Charlotte nodded.

"I was like Emily in many ways. I didn't want to grow up to be a typical wife and mother who looked after a home. I wanted to do things and go places. I wanted to be an independent woman who conquered the world on her own terms."

"Let me guess," Chuck said. "Your parents didn't share that vision."

Charlotte shook her head.

"I ran away five times before I left for college – six if you count the time I walked to Potosi and waited for a train to take me to St. Louis. I was fifteen then."

"Yet your parents still let you go to college."

"They didn't have a choice at that point," Charlotte said. "I was eighteen and had a scholarship in my hands."

Chuck laughed.

"I guess this trip has been more illuminating than I thought it would be. I'm already learning new things about the woman I've pledged to love and cherish."

"I'm sure you'll learn more before the week is out."

Chuck kissed Charlotte again. When she responded by putting an arm around his back, he turned his attention to the acreage in front of the eighty-year-old French colonial farmhouse.

"It's pretty here. I can see why you like coming home."

"It's peaceful," Charlotte said. "
That's
what I like. When I come here, I can free my mind of complications and clutter and see things clearly."

"Do you see things clearly this morning?"

Charlotte nodded.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Chuck asked.

"I suppose it's a little of both."

"That's understandable. You're taking a big leap – a very big leap," Chuck said. "Have you told your family about our plans?"

Charlotte sighed.

"No. I don't know if I will either – at least not in person. I'll probably wait until September, write a long letter, and send it with my tears. I know that's cowardly, but I don't know if I can bear seeing my parents' faces when I tell them I'll never see them again."

"Are you going to be all right?"

Charlotte forced a smile.

"I think so. I just need a little more time to sort things out."

Chuck tightened his hold on Charlotte and kissed her again. He had cherished every moment with her since they had announced the news of their engagement to family and friends.

The weekend had passed in a glorious blur. Chuck and Charlotte had notified family and friends of their plans on Friday morning, raced to city hall, and caught a justice of the peace before he left town. Wyatt and Rose, who had announced their own engagement at the same time, served as witnesses, along with Goldie, Justin, Emily, and Anna. The girl had pleaded with her sister to be part of a ritual she had heard about but never actually seen.

Chuck and Charlotte then made a beeline for the Sea View Hotel in nearby High Island, where, for forty-eight hours, they managed to set aside their serious challenges and celebrate their love for each other. By seven on Sunday they were back on a train, an International and Great Northern express that sped toward Charlotte's childhood home in the lush wooded hills of eastern Missouri. The future,
their
future, was under way.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do for you," Chuck said. "I know this is hard."

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