8. Past Problems
8
PAST PROBLEMS
We made plans for me to come back to Jeremiah’s house on Monday morning.
“I would prefer it to be earlier than that,” he told the two of us as he guided us to the front door. “But with Jacob home from school all weekend, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Better to do this work when we know we won’t be interrupted.”
That was all he said, but I got the message. Too much risk of Jacob overhearing what we were up to, or trying to linger nearby so he could see what we were doing. Although Jeremiah had been careful to sound neutral as he spoke those words, it seemed obvious to me that he knew his little boy was something of a snoop.
Which was probably an unkind thing to think. The poor kid had been raised without a mother and had probably learned enough about what Nizhoni had done to know he would never have a little brother or sister, never have any kind of mother figure except his aunts and maybe Mrs. Barton, the housekeeper. That kind of situation could do a number on almost anyone, let alone a sensitive boy who was extremely smart…and maybe already beginning to show signs of the magic that would one day be his.
“I understand,” was all I said, but I thought Jeremiah knew what I meant.
“And here is the address to Mrs. Marshall’s house,” he added as he handed a small piece of paper over to Seth. “Because we’re coming up on the weekend, you shouldn’t have too much trouble catching her at home.”
Well, that was the hope, anyway. I wasn’t expecting much — although I thought it would be interesting to hear what she had to say about my mother’s abilities as a teacher — but, like Jeremiah had told us earlier, it just made sense to visit Jane Marshall. Anyone who might be paying attention to our movements…looking at you, Samuel Wilcox…would otherwise think it strange that we’d come all the way to Flagstaff to try to figure out what had happened to Eliza Prewitt without making some inquiries with the woman who technically had been her supervisor.
Seth tucked the piece of paper into the breast pocket of his frock coat. “We’ll drop by late tomorrow morning. Anyone else you think we should visit?”
Jeremiah’s brows puckered in thought. “From what I’ve been able to tell, Danica kept to herself a good deal of the time. She visited Mr. Brannen’s store on several occasions, and she also commissioned several gowns from Millie Adams, the seamstress. I suppose it wouldn’t seem too strange for you to also ask them a few questions. The general store is down on San Francisco Street, and Mrs. Adams’ shop is just around the corner.”
That seemed like some good intel to me, if only because going to visit all those people should help to keep Seth and me busy for most of the day tomorrow. We probably wouldn’t have as much luck on Sunday, since the shops would be closed so people could go to church.
And even though my mother had dutifully attended the Methodist services while she was here, I had no intention of doing the same thing. Let the good people of Flagstaff think we “Prewitts” were heathens if they must, but no way was I prying myself out of bed to go to church. I doubted I’d get too much protest from Seth on that point, since the McAllisters of his day weren’t Christian at all, just the same as in modern times.
We thanked Jeremiah and headed out. I had no idea whether he’d cast a spell to make sure the rest of the Wilcoxes were safely occupied elsewhere or whether we were just lucky, but I didn’t catch a glimpse of any of the extended family as we made our way down the front walk and then onto the street. However, by some unspoken agreement, both Seth and I walked quickly, and only slowed our pace once we were safely out on Beaver Street and away from the neighborhood the Wilcox clan had made their beachhead in downtown Flagstaff.
“Back to the hotel?” Seth asked, and I nodded.
“I think so. It just seems safer, you know?”
He didn’t reply directly, although he commented, “We could head over to the general store instead.”
Well, maybe that was a better idea. Even though it felt as though we’d spent hours and hours at Jeremiah’s house, the time was only inching up on two o’clock, which meant we still had the majority of the afternoon to kill.
“Sure,” I said easily. “I don’t think we’ll find much, but you never know.”
Despite that weak endorsement, Seth only responded, “It’s worth a try. Besides,” he added, “I could use a real overcoat if they have any for sale.”
True enough. Even though he’d inherited the trunk with all my father’s clothing in it, no overcoat had been in evidence. I didn’t know if he’d been wearing it when he was shot or whether it had gone missing somewhere else along the way, but even though the frock coat Seth was wearing looked sturdy enough, it wasn’t the kind of thick wool he’d need if we got an early storm.
Or even if we stayed out late in the evening for some reason. Temperatures were already dropping below freezing at nighttime and would only get colder the longer we stayed here.
I wasn’t entirely hopeful — mass-produced clothing wasn’t as much a thing in 1884 as it had been even in Seth’s time, let alone the twenty-first century — but at least the errand gave us a reason for going into the store.
“Only one way to find out,” I said with a smile.
The foot traffic on San Francisco Street was heavier than I would have expected. True, it was Friday afternoon, but as far as I knew, the lumber mills ran up until at least five or six o’clock.
But then I heard a train whistle off in the distance and guessed that some of the people around us had probably disembarked from the train and were planning to spend the weekend in Flagstaff before they moved on to their real destinations.
Seth held the door to Brannen’s open for me so I could head inside. The space was bigger than I’d been expecting, even larger than McAllister Mercantile in Jerome, but then again, Flagstaff had a much bigger population despite all the people who’d come to the Verde Valley to work in the copper mines. Shelves behind the counters held stacks of fabric in all sorts of colors and weaves, and one side of the store had large barrels of what I guessed were corn and wheat and flour.
Almost at once, I spied Clara DeWitt behind the counter. She was helping a thin older woman in a black dress, but I didn’t miss the way her gaze zeroed in on Seth and me, reflecting a little surprise. I supposed I should have remembered that she worked at the store and that we would have a pretty good chance of running into her, but that detail had slipped my mind.
Oh, well. How much could she gossip about, really? Maybe she would think it a little strange that someone would visit Flagstaff in November without bringing along an overcoat, but it wasn’t the sort of oversight that couldn’t be easily excused. Otherwise, I thought Seth and I were acting just the way a brother and sister new to town might be. And now that I knew Jeremiah had cast some subtle magic to disguise our comings and goings from his house, I doubted there was much that anyone — even a massive gossip like Clara DeWitt — could find to talk about.
But then the woman in the plain black dress stepped away from the counter, a small parcel wrapped in brown paper tucked under her arm, and Clara immediately zeroed in on Seth and me.
“Why, Mr. and Miss Prewitt!” she exclaimed. “How good to see you! What brings you to Brannen’s today?”
“I’m in need of a good winter coat,” Seth replied immediately. “It seems that in all the hustle and bustle of disembarking, I left my coat behind on the train. Do you have anything that would work for me?”
Obviously, I didn’t have to worry about Seth’s ability to think on his feet. Sure, I already knew he was smart…and handsome…and kind…but I should have guessed he would also be good at improvising.
Clara’s gaze moved up and down his form in a way that was almost but not quite predatory, and I found myself starting to bristle.
Wasn’t the girl supposed to have a fiancé?
That was what my mother had told me, anyway, so I assumed it must be true. However, it seemed clear that even if Clara’s heart was supposedly taken, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to get an eyeful of any handsome newcomers in town.
“I think we might have something,” she said. “Let me go look in the back room — we don’t keep items like that out front.”
No, while there were bolts of fabric and stacks of shoeboxes, as well as a folded pile of shawls on a table off to one side, it didn’t look as though they had much ready-made stuff on hand. The shop wasn’t really set up to display items that needed to be hung up, so I could see why they kept those odds and ends in their storeroom.
“Take whatever time you need,” Seth told her. “We’re not in any hurry.”
That was for sure. I figured after we wandered around the shops, we could head over to the park and take a stroll before sunset, but it wasn’t as if we had anyone waiting for us.
In fact, he sent me the smallest sideways smile after Clara headed into the stockroom, as if signaling that he knew we had more than enough time to kill. I permitted him the slightest lift of the corner of my mouth before I looked forward again, knowing that it was probably better for me to remain deadpan.
She returned a few minutes later carrying a heavy black wool coat. “Try this,” she said. “It might be a little big, but we don’t have the next size down, and anything else would be far too small.”
Seth took it from her as she handed it across the counter. Truly, the thing looked very bulky, but I supposed a sleek silhouette wasn’t what people generally were searching for in a winter garment.
Then he shrugged it on, pulling it over the frock coat he already wore. Maybe it was just the slightest bit big around the waist, but the shoulders and sleeves seemed to be the right size, which was the important thing.
“It’s great,” he said. “I’ll take it.”
“That’ll be five dollars,” Clara said and then paused, as if wondering whether he was going to protest the price.
But since things in 1884 were far cheaper than they were in 1926, Seth didn’t even blink. “Sure,” he replied, and reached in his pocket to pull out several of the coins Jeremiah had given him.
“Are you going to wear it?” Clara asked next, her expression almost dubious.
I could see why. The temperatures today were a little chilly, but he wasn’t going to need anything that heavy until the sun went down.
“No,” Seth said. “But I’ll just carry it. That way, it’ll be handy if I want to put it on.”
Now she seemed to be doing her best to look neutral. “Very good. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Unlike Seth, I had pretty much everything I needed. True, the gown my mother had been wearing when my father was shot had been an utter ruin and thrown out long before I was even born, but she’d left behind five other dresses and their assorted underthings, along with several shawls and cloaks, so I figured I was good to go.
“No, thank you,” I said politely. “My brother’s overcoat was the only item that seemed to be a real emergency. Thank you, Clara.”
She nodded, but several women entered the store then, their elaborately bustled dresses and feathered hats indicating they were of some social standing, and her attention went immediately to them.
That seemed to be our signal to leave, which was fine by me. As we went, I wondered if Clara worked on commission, or whether she was just hoping for a raise if she sold enough goods that month.
Either way, I supposed it wasn’t really my problem…and I guessed it wouldn’t be hers for very long, either, if she planned to get married soon. From what my mother had said about her erstwhile boarding house roomie, Clara seemed like someone eager to set up her own home so she wouldn’t have to work at the shop for any longer than was strictly necessary.
Seth and I walked along San Francisco Street toward the hotel. “Are we going back already?” I asked, a little surprised. After all, it was still several hours until we could eat dinner.
“Just so I can put the coat away,” he replied. “I won’t need it while the sun’s still up, so I didn’t see the point in dragging it everywhere.”
Fair enough. “And then we can go to the park afterward?”
“Sure,” he said. “Some extra fresh air is always a good thing.”
At that time of day, the hotel lobby wasn’t too crowded. In my own time, late afternoon was generally when people would be checking in, but it seemed as if they did things differently here in 1884. The two of us climbed the stairs and made our way to Seth’s room, where he unlocked the door and we went inside.
Once there, he hung up the overcoat in the wardrobe, then turned back toward me, expression almost diffident.
“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, though,” he said, and I sent him a questioning look.
That kind of comment generally didn’t bode well.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze wanting to travel anywhere except my face. I stood and waited, since I could tell this was something he needed to get out…even as I experienced a faint flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with the tight corset I was wearing.
“What if Jeremiah succeeds in teaching you how to control your talent?”
For a second or two, I only stared back at Seth, not sure what he was driving at.
“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” I asked at last.
His mouth tightened. Not for the first time, I thought of how good it had felt to kiss those lips, to feel the dark stubble on his chin brush against my cheek. Even as we were strolling the streets in Flagstaff, I’d noticed the way the other women were looking at him, some of them whispering amongst themselves, as if trying to determine who the handsome stranger was.
“Of course it will be good for you to be able to really use your gift,” he said. “But if you get it under control — if you don’t have to worry about it sending you someplace where you don’t want to go — then what happens to us?”
That same worry had tickled my own mind, although I’d done my best to push it away, since the idea that I’d be able to actually make my talent do what it was supposed to do seemed like a pipe dream at best. But still, if that day came, what would I do then?
“I don’t know,” I said slowly, since that was the only true answer I could give him. “I mean, I know a relationship with someone from a different time can work, because I have the perfect example in my parents. But it’s not completely the same, is it? My father didn’t have much reason to go back to his own time — he always told us that he felt as if his life didn’t have much direction, and that even though of course he would miss his family, he knew he was making the right decision in staying in a new century with my mother. Whereas you….”
“Whereas I have the store and my family and my clan,” he finished for me. “But aren’t you in kind of the same situation?”
Probably not exactly the same, just because, while I had been working at McAllister Mercantile, I was only an employee there, not a member of the family who owned the place. And yet, I also had family and friends who would miss me if I decided to make a life for myself in 1926.
That scenario didn’t even take into account the way we could be seriously messing with the timeline if I took up permanent residence in the past. Having my father come forward hadn’t been as big a deal, since he wouldn’t be changing anything that had already happened. His family must have thought he’d disappeared in Flagstaff, and maybe they’d sent someone to find out what had happened to him, and maybe they hadn’t. They might have decided it was far too dangerous to head into Wilcox territory when one of their own had already vanished there.
The logical thing…if Seth and I truly wanted to be together, no matter what…would be for him to come to the twenty-first century. Most likely, his family would think he’d run afoul of the bootleggers, an impression I was sure his jerk of a brother would do his best to reinforce.
But could I really ask Seth to give up so much?
“Maybe a similar situation, if not exactly the same,” I allowed. “And it’s a lot to ask of a person.”
He stepped closer to me and took my hands in his. For a moment, I thought he might bend to kiss me, but then I realized the drapes were wide open. Sure, it might have been difficult for someone on the street below to see what we were doing, but I could tell he didn’t want to take even that small risk.
“It’s probably better if we went forward in time,” he said, echoing my thoughts of just a moment earlier. “Having you living in the past would cause a lot of problems, wouldn’t it?”
About all I could do was tighten my fingers on his before gently letting them go. “I don’t know for sure,” I replied. “I mean, I’ve done more reading on time travel than a lot of people, just because of my parents and this so-called gift of mine, but still, even the experts don’t seem to have much of a consensus because it’s all theoretical.”
Seth smiled then, blue eyes warm as he gazed down into my face. “I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘theoretical,’ not when we’re both standing here in 1884.”
Okay, he had a point there. “True,” I allowed. “But scientists don’t know anything about witches or the powers they wield, and we all work really hard to keep it that way. So for them, it’s all theory and nothing more. It could be that my going back to 1926 and staying there wouldn’t change anything, since that’s how it was always meant to be. Or it could be that my continued presence in the past would end up having a ripple effect that could change everything. We just can’t know…and that’s the hard part.”
“But if I go into the future…” he prompted, and I could only give a helpless lift of my shoulders.
“Again, it’s hard to say. It could be that it wouldn’t change much…or it could be that you were our current prima’s great-grandfather, and without you staying there and getting married and having children, Angela would never have been born. That would be catastrophic, because without her, the Wilcox curse would never be broken.”
Seth’s jaw had set during that speech. “I can’t imagine myself marrying anyone else,” he said firmly, and I couldn’t help blinking.
No, it wasn’t anything close to a proposal…but he’d just made it crystal clear where his thoughts lay on that subject.
And even though I’d told myself over and over again how I couldn’t let things get that serious, I knew deep down I didn’t want to be with anyone except him.
Wherever and whenever we ended up.
“Maybe that’s far-fetched,” I said. “I know that Angela’s father Andre was descended from Edmund’s line on the Wilcox side of the family, but — ”
“Wait a minute,” Seth cut in. “You’re saying that your prima is a Wilcox?”
“On her father’s side,” I replied. “On the McAllister side, she’s Ruby McAllister’s great-niece.”
Seth’s expression turned to one of utter relief. “Well, if she’s Ruby’s descendant, then she can’t be directly connected to me. Ruby is my cousin Ralph and Louise’s first child, and she would be way too young for me to ever marry. For Goddess’ sake, she’s just been born!”
Right. I’d almost forgotten about that. It did seem to take care of my worry that Seth could have any direct connection to Angela McAllister.
There had to be a distant one, though, just because his family was the one that owned the store, and Angela’s aunt Rachel was the one who now ran it.
Most likely, Rachel was a descendant of Charles and Abigail, although I had to admit I had a hard time visualizing that pale, sickly girl having any children of her own.
And if Seth had vanished without a trace, the store would have gone to Charles’s son…if he ended up having one, of course.
Not for the first time, I thought how trying to wrap my brain around all the ramifications of time travel only made my head hurt.
“All right, so maybe that isn’t a factor,” I said. “And really, this is all just conjecture anyway. Jeremiah Wilcox might be an extremely powerful warlock, but I have no idea whether those powers will be enough to get my own talent whipped into shape.”
For a second or two, Seth didn’t respond. I could tell he was thinking over everything we’d both just said, trying to decide which outcome would be the best for everyone involved.
“I suppose we’ll see in a few days,” he replied, his expression almost too determinedly cheerful. “For now, though, let’s go for a walk in the park.”