Erin's Rebel Page 22

Then it stopped.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Gentle currents lapped at Will as if he were floating in water. Voices called to him. Voices he hadn’t heard in a very long time.

  “Sam? Is that you?” The other voice was female and very familiar. “Anne?”

  Am I dead?

  He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids wouldn’t obey. He couldn’t move or feel anything, but he could hear.

  “Anne, is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s Anne.” Her voice was low and melodious.

  “Am I dead?”

  “No, it’s not yet your time. You have to go back. Amanda needs you, and you have the chance for love again.”

  Another voice penetrated the darkness. He focused and realized it was Erin. But how could she be here? She talked about a newspaper job, Jenny and Amanda, traveling on a train...her hands touched his face...then her warm lips pressed against his mouth. He longed to respond, to come back to her, but he couldn’t move.

  He drifted away from her, down a long, dark tunnel. Wanting desperately to find his way back, he tried to shake himself, to force his way.

  His eyes opened, her beautiful face the first thing he saw. Tears glistened in her blue eyes. The generous mouth he’d thought never to see again, curved into a smile.

  “You’re back!”

  He tried to form words, but his parched throat wouldn’t allow even a croak. Pressing her fingers against his lips, she said, “No, darling, don’t try to talk yet.”

  She moved aside. Doc leaned down to examine him.

  “His fever’s broke,” he said aside to Erin. “Reckon he’ll be all right.”

  “Thank God.” She kissed his face and lips. “I love you so much. Don’t ever leave me again. I couldn’t bear it.”

  He longed to reach up, take her in his arms, and promise her he never wanted to be parted from her again. He managed to lift his right hand toward her. Taking it in hers, she lifted it to her face kissing and rubbing it against her smooth cheek.

  “I love you,” she said again.

  I love you, he mouthed.

  Seeming to understand, she smiled. Holding his hand, she reached her other hand toward Doc, who stood behind her.

  “Thank you for taking care of him,” she said. “For keeping him alive.”

  “You’re the one who brought him back,” Doc answered. “You’re the reason he fought to live.”

  ****

  Days later, after receiving constant care from Erin, Will grew stronger. She’d sent her companion, Brody, back to York with the message she’d be staying in Petersburg a bit longer. She’d refused to leave Will’s side.

  He could drink, eat, and sit up. He had every intention of getting back on his feet and had a ton of catching up to do with the woman he loved.

  She told him all about her time with the Quaker family, her trip to Pennsylvania, and the colonel, who knew her as a Yankee spy.

  “I put on an Irish brogue, so he wouldn’t suspect anything was up.”

  Will laughed. “I’d be liking to hear that, now, lass,” he said, in a very bad imitation of a brogue.

  Erin shook her head and continued talking about the boarding house, her job at the York Dispatch, and Mrs. Driscoll.

  “She knew I’d come from the future. She also told me I could go back, but if I did, you’d die.”

  “You gave up your future life for me?”

  “You’re my life now. What kind of existence would I have had back there without you?”

  The extent of the sacrifice she’d made overwhelmed him. No one had ever done so much to protect him. He’d always felt he had to protect others, but this woman had shown him what love really meant.

  “I also know,” she went on, “that I’ve lived this life before. But the first time, I allowed you to die...and regretted it for the rest of my sad, lonely life. I was reborn in the future but couldn’t find love there. I had to come back here and fix my mistake.”

  “You really believe this?” After all they’d been through, he was inclined to accept anything she said. As long as she stayed by his side.

  “I know the whole thing sounds fantastic.”

  He traced a finger along her lower lip. She shivered in response. “If you say it’s true,” he said, “I believe.”

  “So, what do we do now?” Her eyelids narrowed mischievously.

  “We go home...and get hitched.”

  Her blue eyes widened. “Married?”

  “If you don’t plan to ever leave me, I reckon that’s for the best.”

  She smiled. “I’d like nothing better than to marry you, Captain Montgomery.”

  “Erin Montgomery...I like the sound of that.”

  “But wait...what about my new job at the paper?”

  Will frowned. “My family is quite well-off. You don’t need a job.”

  “But I like that job. I want to keep it.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “It gives me meaning and purpose.”

  He reached for her, gathering her soft form into his arms. “I thought I gave you that.”

  “I’m serious. I feel a little bit like my old self when I’m working on a story.”

  “But you said it was in York...that’s Yankee territory.”

  She shrugged. “The war is over. We can live anywhere we want.”

  Will sighed. Erin would not be a compliant woman like Anne, who’d been content to live in his parents’ home. She was his new love, the woman he wanted to marry. He loved her spirit and outspokenness. If he wanted to keep her, he’d learn to accept her wants and needs. After all, she’d given up so much for him.

  “Marry me,” he said, “and we’ll make our own way, our own space.”

  She nodded. “We’ll live the life we were meant to have...the first time around.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Will was home again. He stood outside the parlor in his parents’ house in Mason, surrounded by family. He adjusted his cravat and frock coat and nervously prepared for his wedding day.

  Kevin appeared at his elbow, beaming. “I’ve never seen you so flustered, Captain, even when we faced Yankees on the battlefield.”

  “We’re in-laws now, and you’re the father of my niece or nephew-to-be,” Will said. “Call me Will.”

  “Yes, sir...I mean, Will.”

  “That’s better.” He glanced toward the staircase where Erin would descend once his mother and Tillie, who’d taken her to Jenny’s bedroom, had properly prepared her for the ceremony.

  He’d asked Kevin to stand as his best man. Erin had asked Jenny to stand for her. Will’s sister had been busy, crafting both Erin’s wedding dress and a rose-colored sack coat to wear over her own dress to hide her advanced state of pregnancy.

  And Amanda had been more than excited to be the flower girl. Throughout the entry way, she’d practiced spreading petals from the garden’s flowers. Tillie had scolded her for making a mess, but his mother—so unlike herself—had only smiled.

  When he arrived home with Erin, Will had been surprised when his parents welcomed them. Since they’d had to accept Kevin and Jenny’s union now that she carried his child, his parents seemed to have mellowed. He suspected having the entire family together again was part of their transformation, as well as what the nation had just been through.

  Last night, his father had asked to speak to him in his study. Will had expected a lecture or talk of the mess the government was in since Lincoln’s assassination a month ago. But his father surprised him by extending his congratulations and blessings on the coming union.

  “I believe you’ve chosen a fine woman.” His father puffed on one of his cigars.

  “I always thought you disapproved of Erin, because of her questionable background.”

  “I know she’s had a hard life, but she’s overcome a great deal. Amanda loves her.”

  “As do I.”

  “Of course you do, son.” His father blew smoke rings above his head. “And that’s all that mat
ters.”

  So, although the war had been lost, Will had won. He had the woman he loved, who’d come to him from the future; his daughter now had a mother who loved her, and his family was accepting, at least for the time being.

  He hadn’t yet mentioned his plans to move north. But that news could wait for another day.

  ****

  Erin brushed her hands over the skirt of the beautiful silk apricot gown Jenny had made for her. Will’s parents had bought the material.

  At first, she’d protested. She knew Southerners, even well-off ones, had a way to go to recover what they’d lost during the war. But Will’s parents assured her they wanted and were able to do this. The acceptance of his family had made everything easier. While she still thought wistfully of the life she’d given up in the future, she knew she never would have been happy knowing Will had died.

  “This is for you to wear, dear.” Madeline presented Erin with a delicate silver-chain necklace from which a single sapphire stone dangled. “This is very old. It belonged to my grandmother.” Erin leaned over so the shorter woman could reach around her neck to fasten the chain. She then moved to stand before Erin and admire how it looked.

  “The stone is perfect for you. It matches your eyes,” Madeline said.

  “And,” Jenny added, “it’s old and blue. Your dress is new. So, all we need is something borrowed.” She held out an embroidered hanky. “This is mine. Will it do?”

  “It will be just fine.” Erin’s eyes stung when she accepted the handkerchief. Tears of happiness threatened to spill over.

  This was the day she’d lived for her entire life, although she’d never known it. How could she have ever believed she’d have to travel one hundred and forty years into the past to find the man she loved?

  Amanda pranced around in her short forest-green dress, trimmed in ivory lace. Her auburn hair had been arranged in ringlets falling past her shoulders. She also wore green and ivory ribbons in her hair and carried a basket of rose petals to spread in the hall after Erin descended the stairs.

  Jenny had arranged Erin’s hair in an intricate braided design. She’d also strung together a wreath of daisies for Erin to wear with long ribbons that matched her gown and trailed down her back.

  Jenny adjusted the wreath and handed her a small nosegay to carry. Amanda beamed impishly at her.

  “Miss Erin, you look beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Amanda. So do you.”

  Turning to Jenny, Erin said, “I think I’m ready. Is it time?”

  “I do believe it is.”

  Mrs. Montgomery tapped Erin’s shoulder. “Tillie and I will go downstairs. I’ll send Mr. Montgomery up to escort you.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Montgomery,” Erin said, “for everything.”

  “No need to thank me. You just take good care of that boy of mine.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  Madeline and Tillie left. A few minutes later, Zachary appeared in the doorway. He made a distinguished figure with his white hair and beard and impeccable black suit, gray vest, and white cravat.

  “Shall we, my dear?” he asked.

  Amanda and Jenny moved from the room. He waited until Erin took his arm. The small group moved to the head of the stairs. Jenny slowly started down. Amanda fidgeted at the top apparently impatient to perform her task. Once Jenny reached the bottom, Amanda pranced down. At the bottom, she glanced up at Erin and her grandfather, then spread rose petals from her basket across the hall to where her father and the others stood.

  At the top of the stairs, Erin trembled.

  “Nervous, my dear?” Zachary asked.

  “A little,” she admitted. “But mostly, I’m very happy.”

  After Amanda crossed the hall, Zachary said, “Shall we?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As she slowly started down the stairs on Zachary’s arm, she caught Will’s admiring gaze. A remembrance of the first time she’d descended these stairs came back to her. She nearly giggled at the thought of tripping down the stairs in her wedding gown.

  Will’s thick, dark hair had been recently trimmed, as had his mustache and chin beard. He was dressed as his father in a black suit, gray vest, and white cravat at his throat.

  Once they’d reached him, Zachary put her hand into Will’s. The love in his dark-eyed gaze made her want to cry. It had seemed like centuries ago when she’d first dreamed of this man. But Grandma Rose had been right. Will was her destiny. Her Rebel.

  Epilogue

  Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

  December 1865

  Erin looked on while Amanda tried to string more popcorn from the bowl the maid, Elsie, brought in from the kitchen. She noted with amusement the child ate more popcorn than she threaded onto the string.

  “When’s Papa coming home?” Amanda asked.

  “He should be home soon, sweetheart,” Erin said.

  “But I want him home now.” Amanda’s blue eyes widened with excitement.

  This Christmas Eve was the first since Erin and Will had married. They’d moved to Philadelphia, where Will had obtained a position with a local bank. She’d also found a job with the Philadelphia Inquirer. In a weird sort of way, she felt like she’d come home.

  They had purchased a town house on Chestnut Street. Will had brought a tree home last night and trimmed it, and the house held the inviting aroma of pine and the cinnamon rolls Elsie had baked late this afternoon. She had a chicken roasting in the oven, and potatoes and assorted vegetables simmering on the stove.

  “Momma,” Amanda cried, “it’s ready.”

  Erin smiled as the girl proudly displayed her string of popcorn. This was the first time Amanda had called her Momma, instead of Miss Erin. A sudden kick to her abdomen brought her attention to the new child growing inside her.

  Once her pregnancy grew apparent, she resigned her job at the paper and, at Will’s urging, was now writing fiction. She’d always thought she’d try that someday.

  Hey, if Louisa May Alcott could do it, why couldn’t she? This way she could be home to supervise Amanda and, hopefully, once the baby arrived, she’d be able to juggle them and her writing. After all, Elsie did all the housework and cooking. Amanda was now eight, old enough to attend school and help with the new baby.

  The sound of the door opening brought a gasp from Amanda. “It’s Papa.”

  Will stepped in, covered with snow that had started falling earlier that afternoon. He carried packages wrapped in brown paper and bound with string. He’d never looked more handsome. Amanda danced around him.

  “What’s in the wrappers?” she asked.

  He looked at Erin helplessly.

  “Amanda,” she said, “come here and let your papa get settled.”

  The girl reluctantly moved toward her.

  Erin pointed to the small wood bench Will had built and painted for his daughter. “Bring your bench over here by me, and I’ll tell you a story.”

  “About what?” Amanda pushed the child-sized bench toward the fireplace, beside where Erin sat in a rocking chair.

  “About the future...” She nodded at Will, who stealthily crept up the staircase with his bundles.

  ****

  Hours later, after Amanda had been tucked into bed, Erin sat with Will on the settee before the fireplace. Elsie had gone home for the night.

  The balsam pine had been adorned with popcorn, red ribbons, and candles set in stands on the ends of some of the branches. The candles made Erin uneasy, but Will assured her he’d personally make sure they were safely snuffed out before they retired for the night.

  Jenny and Kevin now had a four-month old son they’d named Thomas. They, along with Will’s parents, planned to visit over the holidays. Erin knew he secretly wanted a little boy, too, although he assured her another little girl would be wonderful. When the baby kicked, she lifted Will’s hand, placing it on her stomach.

  “Your son.” She looked into his eyes.

  He grinned. “How do you know it’s a
boy?”

  “I just know.”

  Frowning, he said, “Is this something you know from the future?”

  “No, silly.” She laughed. “We were never together before in my past life. This baby will be a brand new creation. Who knows what he’ll become?”

  Will grew quiet, seeming to consider her words. “Do you reckon you’ll be reborn again in the future?”

  “That’s quite possible.”

  “What about me?”

  Erin considered. “I suppose you’ll be reborn in the future, too.”

  “But will we find each other there? You didn’t know me in your future life.”

  She recalled Mrs. Driscoll’s words. “That’s because our souls weren’t connected before. Now, when we’re reborn, we’ll be able to find one another.”

  He frowned. “You’re sure about this?”

  “No.” Erin laughed. “Of course not. But,” she said snuggling against him as he reached an arm around her, “we’ve got this life to live first...we’ll worry about any future lives when we get to them.”

  He brushed his warm lips against hers. She opened to him, and he deepened the kiss. His kisses continued to be as exciting as the first time he’d kissed her back in camp more than two years ago. The day she’d realized she was trapped in the past and had broken down in tears.

  “You always know how to make me feel better,” she murmured against his throat. His pulse beat reassuringly in her ear.

  “Are you happy here in this backward century?” he asked. “Or do you miss the life you left?”

  She shook her head. “No. There was nothing for me there, just gadgets and conveniences I’ve learned to live without. You’re my world now. And Amanda and...” She patted her stomach. “Our son.”

  “I love you, angel.” He kissed her hair.

  “And I love you, too...for all my many lifetimes.”

  Will rose and snuffed out the candles, then reached for her hand to take her to bed.

  A word about the author…

  Susan Macatee has been writing toward publication for 13 years. Her stories range from sci-fi, the paranormal and history, particularly the American Civil War era.