Time Passage: A Time Travel Novel, page 13
After Tara was gone, for long minutes, I didn’t move from the fireplace. As much as I tried to stop them, tears formed, stinging my eyes, and they ran down my cheeks. I seldom cried. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried.
That young girl had more kindness and generosity at thirteen years old than I’d had in my entire selfish life. Sure, my childhood hadn’t been ideal or easy, but neither had Tara’s life been easy, had it? And it still wasn’t easy. And yet, I sensed no bitterness in her, and she had a beautiful, loving spirit.
It was as if she’d held up a soul-searching mirror before me, and for the first time in my life, I truly saw the authentic me, the selfish me, the scared me, the pretty and the petty and the devious me.
Sure, I’d given the woman at the train station in 2022 twenty bucks, but that was easy; just pull a bill, hand it to her because she reminded me a little of my mother, and then walk away. I’d never sacrificed for someone, nursed someone back to health, helped someone get out of a jam. No, I had never made one good difference in the world. And, if I was honest, and I guess it was a day to be honest, I’d made the world a little more nasty and a little more selfish.
On Thursday night of that very long second week, I’d had it. Obstinate and determined, I made up my mind that I wouldn’t stay couped-up in my room any longer. I put on a woolen day dress, found a pair of heavy, lace-up boots with a heel, and shouldered into a long, cashmere winter coat. I found a pair of heavy woolen gloves, and the fur hat I’d taken from the closet shelf fit tightly over my ears.
I was ready. If Mrs. Grieve or Mr. Hopkins wanted to chase me down, let them. I was younger, in better shape, and I had run track in high school. So, snow or no snow, I would easily out-slip and slide them, and give them a run for their money. Wouldn’t that be fun?
I left my room, stepping into the hallway, tossing furtive glances left and right. No one was about, so I walked briskly down the hall to the winding, wrought-iron back stairs and descended, careful not to trip over my skirts.
The back door wasn’t far, and I quickly closed the distance, reaching for the heavy doorknob, twisting it, and giving the door a little shove. It creaked open into the night, and a rush of cold wind swept across my face.
Closing the door behind me, I ventured across the snow-shoveled path, moving gingerly, searching the stone walk for ice. The back door lamps spilled feeble light upon the walkway, but it was enough to see and, if I walked a bit further, I’d be in the shadows and not easily spotted from upper windows and spying eyes.
Feeling a thrilling lift of freedom, I inhaled the cold night air deep into my lungs and blew a cloud of white vapor into the night. The sky was a midnight blue, with a crystal clear quarter moon and a hazy mass of gleaming stars so dense and so bright that I stood for a long time staring up at them, grinning like a kid. I’d never seen so many stars.
I ambled down the walkway, with my gloved hands deep into my coat pockets, not venturing off the path into the eight inches of undulating snow spreading out in all directions.
As the winter wind whirled and wrapped around me, I didn’t care that I was cold. In the face of all that had happened, I experienced an immense joy at being out of that house and in the small freedom of a glorious winter night. The crisp, clean, moving air was intensely quiet, and I encountered a peculiar peace, without electric lights and motors, without the murmur of traffic noise or jets flying over.
I grinned with pleasure as a big night wind burst over me, kicking up snow, stinging my face and stirring the evergreen trees.
Just as I stepped into the shadows, away from the light, I heard a voice. A man’s voice! I froze.
CHAPTER 25
“You shouldn’t be out here, Miss Adams,” Thomas Dayton said.
I jerked my head left and saw his silhouette—his large silhouette—near a mound of shoveled snow.
“Son of a bit…” I stopped, grabbing a startled breath, putting a hand to my heart. “You scared the shit out of me!”
Real ladies in this period of history didn’t curse, so I swiftly recovered. “I mean, I didn’t know you were there.”
“Mr. Gannon said you wasn’t meant to leave the house.”
I saw clouds of vapor puffing from his mouth.
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t stay locked up in that house another hour. I had to get out. It’s not like I can run away, right?”
“Still, that’s what he said.”
“And do you do everything Mr. Gannon says?” I asked, in a defiant tone. “Every single thing?”
“He pays me my wages.”
I lifted my shoulders and settled them, trying to shake off the fright. “Yeah, well, I guess that’s how the world works, isn’t it? You kiss ass so you can get money.”
I shook my head, instantly regretting the words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Thomas remained still. “You’re right, Miss Adams. That’s the way of it, all right, until a man’s had enough. And then, maybe he ain’t gonna take it anymore.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant. “Did you get into trouble when Mr. Gannon found out I didn’t send the telegram and that you didn’t escort me inside?”
“I was wrong about that. I should have gone in with you.”
“No, Thomas, I was wrong, and I’m sorry, and I’m sorry if I got you in trouble, and I’m glad you’re still here.”
“Do you know what he said to us all? Mr. Gannon said, ‘Don’t talk to Miss Adams. You leave her be.’”
“And why do you suppose he said that?”
“Don’t know. None of my concern.”
“But you’re talking to me now,” I said, suddenly aware he was up to something.
“And I’ve got my reasons, don’t I?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“I just said so, and I’m sure you heard me.”
“Did Mr. Gannon threaten you when he found out about Denver?”
“He whipped me.”
“He did what?”
“Horsewhipped me.”
“And you didn’t fight back? You’re a big guy.”
“One of his old miner pals held a 45 Colt on me while Gannon whipped me. Either I take it or I’m dead and buried, and won’t ever be found. I took it, standing. I didn’t go down. So my back’s sore, and my face took some licks, but I didn’t go down no matter how he slashed at me.”
My stomach twisted. “That’s sick. Gannon’s just sick. I’m so sorry Thomas.”
His laugh was low, moist and dark. “Yeah… sick’s the word, and it’s right for the like of him.”
“And what if he finds out you’re talking to me now?”
“He said next time he’d kill me.”
I blew out a jet of vapor, frustrated, not wanting to get Thomas killed. “And would you let him kill you just because he pays your wages?”
He was quiet for a moment, as he kicked at the snow. “I was a weedle before I came here looking for work.”
“I don’t know what a weedle is.”
“A roamer, like the seeds from the creeping jenny, an Oklahoma Territory weed, where I’m from.”
“And so, you were tired of roaming?”
“I was then, and that’s why I settled here, but not so much now, after what I’ve seen. After what Gannon done to me.”
“And what have you seen?” I asked, anxious to know, and maybe not wanting to know.
“I’ve seen things I shouldn’t have seen, and nobody knows I’ve seen. So, maybe I’m waiting for the right time before I spill my guts to the marshal.”
His vague hints and runaround were irritating me. “Okay, Thomas, then I guess I’m curious. Why are you standing out in the snow on a cold night like this? I mean, are you like a security guard or something?”
“I don’t guard nothing after my chores.”
“Okay, then, why are you out here?”
In the darkness, I could feel his eyes on me. “’Cause things have turned and come about, and I’ve been doing some thinking, and so I’ve been walking and thinking.”
“And that’s why you’re standing out here in the cold wind? Were you waiting for me? Did you know I’d come out?”
A puff of wind blew up a funnel of snow and Thomas turned his face from it, as I lowered my head.
When he spoke, his voice had changed to a low accusation. “You must have hit the skids back East for you to try your luck out this way.”
“And why do you keep stalling, Thomas? Why don’t you just tell me why you’re out here?”
His voice grew louder and held mild contempt. “And now I know you didn’t come out here to be Mr. Gannon’s bride.”
I stilled, narrowing my eyes at him. “Do you, now?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And how do you know, or are you going to keep talking in circles?”
“I know, because I found her.”
“Found who?”
“The real woman. The real Rosamond Adams.”
My mind locked up and my shoulders tightened. “What?”
“She was about froze to death. I found her when I was out hunting, three days ago.”
My thoughts thrashed about as I grappled for words. “Three days ago?”
“Yes, ma’am. You ask why I was out here. I don’t read and write so good, so Rosamond wrote a note for Tara. She was coming out to get it from me, and then give it to you.”
Fear struck like a hammer. “Where is Tara?”
“She won’t come now. She’s seen us. That one is as smart as a whip and twice as clever as a fox. She took to you, and she don’t take to nobody. She told me you was in danger, so I worked it all out and I was going to give her the note.”
“Where’s Rosamond?”
“She’s safe now. Still sickly, with the fever.”
“Is she alone?”
“Yeah. She’s alone, when I have to leave the place.”
I spoke with urgency and determination. “Where is she, Thomas? Tell me.”
“I don’t tell nothing more until you and me work things out.”
My first thought was of escape. Of course it was. Self-preservation had always been my first thought. “Thomas, can you get me out of here? Can you get me to the train station so I can catch a train back East? I can give you money. I’m a prisoner in that house, you know that now. My real name is Cindy Downing. Rosamond is Mr. Gannon’s mail-order bride, not me.”
“I know about it,” he said proudly. “I know all about it. She told me. The real Miss Adams came clean about it all, because she thought she was going to die.”
I suddenly thought of Tara, and something inside shifted. My selfish, get-the-hell-out-of-town thoughts stopped when an image of Tara’s innocent face froze me to the spot. I flashed back, remembering her asleep, slumped in a chair next to my bed, and she’d sat there night after night, after working fourteen-hour days. I thought about what she’d said to me.
“What I did for you, I did because I wanted to, and not for any other reason or for money. Ain’t we both from New York, like you said, Miss Adams? Well, friends don’t take money when a friend is sick. At least, that’s how I see it.”
Thinking of someone else other than myself—thinking about Tara—sent me into confusion, and I stared blindly. Shouldn’t I get Tara out of that house, too? I didn’t know where we’d go, or what we’d do, but at least the girl, like me, would be free. With our shared shaky backgrounds and learned survival skills, we’d make it one way or the other. I was sure of that.
But if we did escape the house, I had a lot of planning to do. And, if I was caught, I had no idea what Gannon would do to us.
CHAPTER 26
Thomas’ harsh voice jolted me back to the present. “That no-good gambler Rosamond took up with, beat her up and left her with nothing except a train ticket. Rosamond says you have her trunk with money and jewels in it. That’s why that gambling son-of-a-bitch beat her. Beat her because she was fool enough to mix the trunks up and give her trunk to you. That was going to be his gambling stake. You see it now, don’t you?”
His big silhouette moved a few steps closer, as he kept talking. “So, as I see it, it’s time for me to get back to roaming, and away from John Gannon and his evil ways and this house.”
“What’s going on, Thomas? What do you want?”
“You ain’t a stupid woman. What do you think I want? I want Rosamond’s money and her jewels. What else?”
“Then what?”
“Then me and Rosamond will hightail it back to the Oklahoma Territory.”
“Gannon will go after you, and he’ll find you. He paid ten thousand dollars for Rosamond to be his wife.”
There was a long silence as the wind whistled through the trees.
“Ten thousand dollars for Rosamond?” Thomas finally said, in a wonder. “And she wants to run off with me, a nobody? Ten thousand dollars?”
“Yes, so you know Gannon will go after you both. He’ll want revenge because, you know as well as I do, that’s the kind of man he is.”
“Yeah, well, let him. I’ve got two brothers. Caleb, my older brother, tracks game and Indians for the Army. If Gannon gets close, we’ll shoot him, and bury him where he’ll never be found, and there won’t be no man or woman on God’s good earth who will care. That’s what I want. I want Rosamond, the money and the jewels, and I want to run for it. Maybe I want Gannon to give us chase because I want him dead and buried. Nobody comes at me with a horsewhip and keeps his life. My Pa didn’t raise me to take that from no man. The day Gannon struck me, with a man pointing a Colt at me so I couldn’t fight back, was the day Gannon signed his death in blood. If I stay, I’ll kill him. If he comes for me, I’ll kill him.”
Trembling from the frigid air and from Thomas Dayton’s threatening words, I decided to seize the moment and ask the big question, while he was chatty, angry and wanting revenge.
“Thomas, did Gannon kill his wife?”
Thomas didn’t hesitate. “Yes, ma’am, he killed her, all right. He caught her with the groom, Jubal Banks, out in the carriage house back in a horse stall. Jubal was handsomely made, and with a shiny eye for the ladies, and Mrs. Gannon took to him right off. They was closer in age, and they was closer in temperament, them both being more bold than smart.”
I crossed my arms tightly against my chest, suddenly sensing danger everywhere. Could I believe Thomas? If he had stepped out of the shadows into the light, I would have been able to read his face and his eyes. But then, maybe I didn’t need to see him to believe him. I heard the truth, and I heard the rage in his voice.
Thomas blew on his hands, stuffed them back into his sheepskin coat pockets, and continued.
“So, Gannon caught them, all right. He ordered all hands to ride off, and they did. All but me. I mounted my horse and rode a-spell, then I moved into the trees and waited. I heard two gunshots. Gannon shot Jubal Banks twice, and then he strangled his wife. Broke her neck, he did. Then he laid her across her favorite horse and took her to a far field. He didn’t know I saw him, but I did. I swung down, tied my horse aways out, then moved back through the trees, silent like a ghost. Gannon left his wife there on the ground near her horse. He just walked away and didn’t give a care if the buzzards got to her. I left the trees, crouching, and went to her. That’s when I saw she was strangled. Neck broke.”
“What about the marshal?” I asked, my pulse high. “Did he come to the house?”
“Yes, he did. The marshal was sent for, all right, and he found the dead woman just lying there. When Gannon was called to come to the scene, he was in his office. He fell into grief, play-acting out his sorrow and his distress, and I don’t know if Marshal Vance suspected a bad deed or if he just took it for what it seemed to be. The marshal don’t talk so much, and he don’t show so much on his face, so I don’t know what Marshal Vance thought about it.”
My mind flashed back to 2022, to Cliff Prince’s dead body and to the antique clock gripped in my shaking hand. I had been a killer, too, and the awful memory made me nauseous.
I cleared my throat. “What happened to Jubal Banks’ body?”
“One of Gannon’s miner pals buried him in some hidden ground. Never was found. Never will be found. Gannon told the marshal the man had run off.”
“And did the marshal believe that?”
“Had no reason not to believe it, did he? Hired hands go running off all the time.”
I stared down at the snow, feeling more frightened than I could ever remember.
Thomas’ voice took on conviction. “You get me Rosamond’s cash and jewels, Miss Adams, and we’ll be gone in short order.”
I looked up. “Can you take Tara and me to the train?”
“I will, once I have the goods from Rosamond’s trunk, but we’ll have to do it before Gannon returns, and he’s back in two days.”
I nodded, a glimmer of hope rising. “Okay… Okay. How do we do this?”
“You get the goods to Tara, and she’ll get them to me. That’s what the note Rosamond wrote was all about, the one in my pocket, the one I was going to give to Tara. I don’t need to do that now. I’ve told you directly.”
“How do I know you won’t leave before you take us to the train station?”
“Now, I’ll call you rightly, by your given name, Miss Downing. I am a man of my word. That’s the way my Pa raised me. You get me the goods and you’ll get to the train. After that, you’re on your own.”
I wanted to jump up and scream into the sky. I’d soon be free, and so would Tara!
CHAPTER 27
Just when everything was going my way, and I was about to flee the place, it all went to hell. John Gannon returned early the next morning, having traveled all night across bad roads and through high winds.
That killed any chance I had to give Rosamond’s jewels and money to Tara, and for Tara and me to pile into a carriage, with Thomas at the reins, and make a run for it. And what was worse? Tara was sick. It was probably the same illness that had clobbered me. She didn’t arrive at her usual time to clean the fireplace and make a fresh fire.
