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Edith had inherited the vehicle in 1936 after George Tomlinson's fatal stroke, but she had never made practical use of it. When she had failed to find a buyer willing to pay top dollar for a month-old car, she had put the coupe in her garage and kept it as sort of a shrine to her husband.

Grace remembered the day Edith had given her the car on permanent loan: January 24, 1938. It was the day she had earned her driver's license, begun her final semester of high school, and become Edith's legal dependent in the wake of an unspeakable tragedy.

Grace thought of that dark and not so distant time as she rolled to a stop at an intersection and waited for a light. She had been seventeen when she and her missionary parents, William and Lucille Vandenberg, had fled Nanking, China, just ahead of a Japanese occupation that would claim three hundred thousand lives. With nowhere else to go, they had taken the first boat to Seattle and moved in with Edith, Lucy's sister, in November 1937. They had lived in the city barely a month before a drunk driver had plowed into Bill and Lucy as they entered a crosswalk.

Despite the shock of losing her parents so suddenly and senselessly, Grace had managed to finish high school, win a full-ride scholarship, and enter the university a few miles away. She had struggled at first, particularly socially. She had kept mostly to herself and made more friends with books than girls in her freshman dormitory. But she had slowly emerged from her shell and started to live the life that she had been meant to lead.

Grace thought of one of her dorm mates, Virginia Gillette, as she stared blankly at the long red light. Ginny, a newspaper heiress and journalism major from Forest Grove, Oregon, had all but rescued her as a freshman. She had persuaded her shy roommate to attend numerous social events and eventually join a sorority, where Grace had grown and thrived. They had been best friends since the first day of school.

Katie, of course, was not far behind. Grace had met the talkative, witty coed at the university library, where both worked in the circulation department. "Grace checked out books," as Katie liked to say, "and I made sure she did them right."

Grace had befriended the Japanese American despite not-so-subtle pressure from others to associate with her own kind. She had loved Katie's sense of humor, her intellect, her generosity, and her knowledge and interest in Asia.

The two had planned to share the house with Ginny at least until June, when all three graduated and Ginny married Tom Carter. Tom was the son of Seattle furniture magnate Mel Carter and a recent college graduate who in a matter of weeks had become Joel Smith's best friend.

But the draft and now the attack on Pearl Harbor had put those plans on hold. Tom was fifty miles away at Fort Lewis, where he would complete basic training and no doubt head off straight to war, and the normally confident, strong-willed Ginny was an emotional wreck.

Grace had reached Ginny by phone shortly after reading Joel's letter and learned that she had spent the night with Tom's family in the university district. Ginny said she had grown closer to her future in-laws since Tom's conscription on November 24 and wanted to comfort them as best she could. She said that the news from Pearl Harbor had left her numb, but she readily agreed to Grace's request to meet at Aunt Edith's. They had agreed to meet at four.

When the light finally turned green, Grace drove through the intersection and noticed dozens of people on the sidewalks. They gathered in small groups and appeared to engage in animated conversations. Grace didn't need to hear their words to know what they were talking about. A moment later, she turned to her friend in the passenger seat.

"Are you going to tell me where you got the money?"

"Joel gave it to me," Katie said matter-of-factly. "He gave me twenty-five hundred dollars as casually as most people might tip a waitress. I didn't know what the envelope contained, of course, but he did. I'm sure it was the leftover winnings from his sports bets."

Grace flinched when she heard the words. She knew Joel well enough to know that he would not have left Katie or anyone else with that kind of money without a very good reason. He knew things about the future that she did not. Still, the revelation stung. Joel had left a mere friend with a significant gift and the woman he loved with a broken heart.

"When did he give it to you?"

"He gave it to me at dinner – at the Mad Dog. He gave it to me Friday night."

Grace sighed. Friday night. The mere mention of that evening, the last time she had seen Joel, stirred more emotions. Though Joel had apparently left Seattle, and left for good, he had done so with class. He had said his goodbyes all week – first to the Carters, then to his friends – and done so in a way that left all of them pining for more.

He had made a special effort with Ginny and Katie, taking them out for dinner and drinks Friday and sharing stories about his past that he had not shared with anyone else. He had left each with comforting words that they had cited verbatim Saturday morning.

Joel had saved Grace for last, of course. He had picked her up at an academic gathering that she could not miss and taken her to a new bar in town for drinks and reminisces.

Grace had loved almost everything about that experience. She'd had a chance to talk to him, share her dreams for the future, and give him a Christmas gift that simply could not wait.

She had also loved the short drive home to Klickitat Avenue and sitting in the front seat of Tom's Plymouth after they had arrived. For thirty blissful minutes they had held each other tightly, spoke in the hushed tones of lovers when they spoke at all, and maximized the moment as wind-driven rain tapped the car's windows to the rhythm of romance.

Grace had assumed that the affectionate moment would lead to better things. She had assumed that they would make a seamless transition from the car to the bedroom and reaffirm a love that would surely survive a short separation. She had assumed incorrectly.

Joel had had other plans. Instead of making love to her, he had made excuses and left her at the doorstep. Even so, he had said he would be gone only a few weeks. Joel had told all of them that he would stay in Montana only as long as it took to make peace with his estranged family.

Looking back, however, Grace could see that he had never intended to stay. He had seemed depressed Friday night and preoccupied with catching his early morning train. He had also used words that all but telegraphed a final exit. When he had finally bid her farewell at the door, he had said 'goodbye' and not 'good night.'

"Are you OK?" Katie asked, bringing Grace to the here and now.

"I'm fine. Please continue."

"As I said, he gave me the envelope at dinner. He didn't say what it contained. He just asked me to hold it and keep it in a safe place. He said if he returned this week he wanted it back."

"And if he didn't come back?"

"He said I could keep it. He said he knew I would put it to good use. I got the impression that I wasn't supposed to open the envelope. Not now, anyway. But you know me. I couldn't wait. I opened it the minute I got home. I have never seen so much cash in my life."

"Nor have I," Grace said. "Thank you for the loan. I'll never forget it."

"It's not a loan, Grace. It's a gift. Joel left the money for me – why, I'll never know – and now I'm giving some of it to you. If this helps you find him, it will be money well spent. Let's speak no more of this."

"OK."

"Do you really think you can reach him in time?"

"I hope so. I won't know until I get to Helena. It all depends on whether I can find the Buick dealer. He's my only hope. He's the only one who might remember Joel. If I can't reach him by tomorrow morning, it won't matter . . ."

Grace choked up as she finished the words. She knew that this was probably a fool's errand. She was betting her future and Katie's cash on a seemingly meaningless tidbit of information. When she had taken Joel to Mount Rainier National Park in July, a make-or-break moment in their fledgling relationship, he had told her about a hitchhiking experience where a Buick dealer had given him a lift near an abandoned mine.

She didn't know whether the dealer or the mine were anywhere near Helena, Montana. She didn't know if the mine was the one that had transported Joel from the year 2000 to 1941. She knew only that she had to find the truth and find it fast or she would face a lifetime of regrets.

CHAPTER 3: GRACE

Grace's second visit to Madison Park that day felt vastly different than the first. When she had pulled into Aunt Edith's driveway at 7:30 a.m. to take her to church, the United States was still a nation at peace and Joel Smith was still someone she expected to see again. So much had changed in so little time.

As Grace accompanied Katie to the door of the impressive mansion, she again noticed human activity. People moved in and out of cars and neighboring houses with considerable haste. They greeted each other with hugs, not handshakes. This was no typical Sunday morning.

"Come in, girls," Edith said as she opened the door. "Ginny is already here."

Grace and Katie gave their coats to Edith and walked through a large living room to a sofa facing a roaring fireplace. Grace had not sat on the comfortable couch since Thanksgiving, the day she had introduced Joel to her sole remaining blood relative. They had spent most of a pleasant afternoon sitting on the piece, an antique from the 1880s, and had learned a lot about each other. Joel had been refreshingly candid when speaking to Grace's inquisitive aunt, but he had also been uncharacteristically gloomy. He had known what was coming and it showed.

When Edith finished hanging the coats, she returned to the living room, stopped in front of the fireplace, and looked at each of her guests. Grace and Katie sat stoically at opposite ends of the sofa. Ginny sat in a rocking chair a few feet away. She stared blankly out a picture window to the rainy street beyond.

"Would any of you like some tea?"

"No, thank you," Grace answered.

Katie shook her head.

Ginny said nothing.

"I know that Grace called this gathering, but I have an agenda of my own," Edith said with a West Country accent that even years in America had not diminished. She had emigrated from England to Seattle in 1918 along with her 18-year-old twin Lucille. "I'd like to know how all of you are doing. This has been such a dreadful day. Ginny, how is Tom?"

Virginia Gillette stared at Edith with vacant eyes.

"He's still in basic training at Fort Lewis," she said. "I received a letter from him yesterday. He seems to be doing OK. He's learning a lot, making new friends, the usual stuff. He wrote that boot camp is not as bad as advertised, but I think he was trying to lift my spirits. He expressed concern about his next assignment. I can only imagine what he's thinking now."

Ginny closed her eyes and brought a hand to her forehead. She looked at Edith and then Grace but quickly turned away in an apparent effort to hide fresh tears.

Grace wanted to rush to Ginny and comfort her friend but decided to stay put. There was no point in comforting a distraught woman when you were about to make her day a whole lot worse.

"I'm so sorry," Edith said. She stepped forward and put a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "If there is anything I can do for you or for the Carters, please let me know. I mean it. Nothing would make me happier than to assist those most directly affected by this awful war."

"I appreciate that," Ginny said. She wiped a tear and straightened her posture. "Thank you."

Edith smiled sadly at Ginny and then redirected her attention to Katherine Kobayashi. Katie sat quietly with folded hands and crossed legs.

"And how about you, Katie? How are you? Have you spoken to your parents today?"

"I have. I telephoned them just before we left. They are very concerned, of course. They are worried about me and about our relatives in Japan. They are worried about a backlash and the impact it might have on their business in Portland. But they are doing OK under the circumstances. I will see them on Friday, after my last final. I already have my train ticket."

"That's good," Edith said. "I've thought about you all day. I know how ugly people can get when they act on prejudice and ignorance. Be strong. We will all get through this."

As Grace listened to Ginny and then Katie, she felt very small. Suddenly, her concerns seemed trivial and selfish. She did not have a fiancé headed off to war or a family that would likely suffer severe discrimination in the months to come but rather a boyfriend who had dumped her because he preferred the future to the present. Doubt hung over her like a cloud. Could she really do this to her aunt and her best friends? What kind of person did that make her?

Grace realized then and there that she needed time. She needed time to think things through and to decide whether the love of her life was worth the life she loved. But she knew that she didn't have that luxury. She would have to make the biggest decision of her life in the next few minutes. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, as if seeking divine guidance. Did God have any answers for dilemmas like this? If so, they weren't clear.

Edith did not address Grace immediately. She instead walked into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a teacup and saucer. She sat in a lightly upholstered wooden chair, placed the cup and saucer on a nearby table, and smiled sweetly at her niece.

"Well, dear, I take it that you have something to say to us."

Grace sighed as she slowly rose from the couch. She glanced at Katie, who returned a sympathetic smile, and then at Ginny, who offered a blank stare. Whatever occupied her thoughts, it was almost certainly not a slick-talking cowboy from Helena, Montana. Grace smoothed the wrinkles from her dark blue dress and turned to face her hostess.

"I do, Aunt Edith. I've been debating all day about what to say to you and even whether to say it. My problem seems trivial compared to the problems of others. But I knew that this was something that could not wait. I had to speak to you today, all of you."