28
GRACE
OCTOBER 2, 1912
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
The moment my eyes opened in the Hollywood Hotel, I slipped out of my bed and put on my robe. It was early, and the sky was still pale with the first hint of daylight, but I couldn’t wait to tell my parents what had happened.
We were sharing a suite in the lavish hotel overlooking Hollywood Boulevard. William Randolph Hearst had reserved rooms for us, wiring his staff to treat us to anything that money could buy. The Hollywood Hotel was the cultural center of the emerging movie industry and the place to see and be seen in Los Angeles.
I rapped on my parents’ bedroom door, knowing they wouldn’t mind the early wake-up.
“Come in,” Mama called in a sleepy voice.
I entered the room and found them still in bed. Daddy was yawning as he sat up, and Mama was just blinking her eyes open.
“What’s wrong?” Daddy asked as he took his glasses off the nightstand. “Did something happen to Hope?”
“She escaped the gaol!” I said, relief making me want to cry.
“How?” Mama was now wide awake as she, too, sat up.
“I don’t know—but I think Isaac Abbot had something to do with it. If it wasn’t him, he would have come for me yesterday morning, like usual. But he didn’t, so I suspect he broke her out.”
“How did he do it?” Daddy asked.
“From the report I heard, he slipped into the gaoler’s home and simply took the keys off the hook near his door. When I was there with Isaac the day before this happened, he went into the gaoler’s house to pay him to let the prisoners out into the courtyard for a few minutes. I suspect he did it in order to identify where the keys were kept.”
I was breathless with excitement—but then the reminder of the other news sobered my thoughts.
“Rachel Howlett died giving birth to her child. I sent word to Tacy’s sister that a child was born, and I pray they can retrieve her from the gaoler’s wife.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Mama said. “How awful.”
“I think it happened before Hope escaped,” I added, “so she was with Rachel until the end.”
“A small consolation,” Daddy said. “What about the others in gaol?”
“Several escaped, since Isaac left the door open, but the gaoler discovered what had happened before they could all leave. A few of them were brought back, but Hope is still not found.”
“Where do you think he took her?” Mama asked.
“I’m not sure—and the less I know, the better. I was already questioned by Father and the sheriff, George Corwin. But I honestly told them I have no idea what happened to her.”
“I’m so relieved,” Mama said. “We’ll pray Isaac keeps her hidden until it all blows over.”
“He won’t be able to show himself in Salem for a long time,” Daddy said. “He risks losing everything to help her.”
I took a seat on the end of their bed. “I suspect Isaac heard that Hope was supposed to go to trial yesterday, so that’s why he snuck her out when he did. If she had stood trial, she would have been found guilty, and who knows how quickly they would have hanged her.”
Mama shuddered. “It’s one thing to know she’s not here—but it would be another entirely to know that she was gone completely. They are not safe yet. I’m sure people will be looking for them.”
Daddy took Mama’s hand in his own. “Let God take care of her, Maggie. He always has, and He always will.”
I loved my father’s reassurance. His steady, calm voice had eased many of my worries and fears over the years. But there was another fear I hadn’t faced yet—and that was the fear of saying good-bye to them.
“I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to see Hope before our birthday,” I said slowly, “but I told her I would choose 1692.” I lowered my gaze, not wanting to see the pain in their eyes.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Daddy asked.
“I want both. But I think I would have more guilt if I abandoned Hope now—especially if I didn’t get to say good-bye.”
“We should never be driven by guilt,” Mama said. “Conviction, yes—but not guilt. Guilt implies you did something wrong. Conviction is the knowledge that you need to do something right, even if it’s hard. You are not doing anything wrong if you choose 1912.”
I closed my eyes, both sad and frustrated.
“I’m sorry,” Mama said. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that either way, you’re not doing anything wrong.”
I nodded. “I know you understand what I’m going through.”
“Unfortunately, I do. And despite my parents’ advice and wisdom, it was still very difficult for me to decide.”
“Except,” Daddy said with a teasing gleam in his eyes, “you were choosing between me and that Navy doctor in 1941—so we know the choice was easier than you let on.” He winked at me.
“All that to say,” Mama said with a side-eyed smile at him, “I know how hard this is, but don’t let guilt play into it. Make your choice based on conviction and love, not guilt and fear.”
Conviction and love. I loved Hope in a way I would never love another human. We had experienced things no one else would ever understand. Yet I also loved Mama and Daddy—and I loved Luc, in a way I would never love another. And there was also Tacy to consider. We’d only scratched the surface of knowing each other. I wanted time with her, too.
But I had told Hope I would choose 1692. If I didn’t see her before our birthday, I couldn’t leave her without saying good-bye and explaining myself.
“I should get dressed,” I told them. “I’m supposed to meet Luc at seven to drive back to Long Beach to take pictures with the aeroplane.”
“Do you want us to wait to eat breakfast with you when you get back?” Mama asked.
“I’m not sure how long it will last.”
“Remember, we’ve been invited to a luncheon at Tacy’s.”
I nodded. “I won’t forget.”
I left their room and was soon dressed in the same blue linen gown I’d worn to Tacy’s house. I brought my flying suit along—since we were taking promotional photos—so I could change into it at the hangar.
Luc was waiting outside the Hollywood Hotel near a beautiful white Oldsmobile. He leaned against it, wearing a pinstripe suit and a straw boater on his damp hair.
The moment our gazes met, my stomach filled with butterflies and warmth spread into my cheeks. I would never tire of the way he made me feel—both attractive and desirable. He saw me—truly saw me—and wanted more of me.
If only I could give him what he wanted—what we both wanted.
“You look beautiful,” he said, as he opened the automobile door for me.
“Thank you.”
He closed the door and leaned against it—his face close to mine. He smelled of shaving soap and the warmth of sunshine. His countenance grew serious, and for a second I thought he would kiss me, right there on Hollywood Boulevard for everyone to see.
And I would have let him.
Instead, he walked around the vehicle and cranked the motor, jumping into the Oldsmobile a second later.
We pulled away from the stucco-covered hotel, and I was thankful for my wide-brimmed hat. The sun was already bright as we drove toward the ocean, palm trees swaying in the breeze.
It was over thirty miles to Long Beach, but I didn’t mind. Everything about California felt new and invigorating. I closed my eyes to enjoy the warm wind as it rushed past—and felt Luc’s hand engulf mine.
We didn’t speak for most of the ride. The motor made it difficult to hear, and I didn’t mind the silence. It was enough just to hold his hand.
When we finally reached the ocean, Luc pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. The waves crashed against the shore and rolled toward the beach in a never-ending pattern, running along the sand, creeping toward a family who sat on a picnic blanket.
Luc lifted my hand to his lips, tearing my gaze from the ocean. My pulse soared, and I had to swallow the rush of emotion welling up inside me. I had never wanted to offer my heart to anyone like I wanted to offer it to Luc. I trusted him completely—to be tender with me, to love me, to cherish me. I’d watched him care for the things he loved in those ways, and I knew he would do the same with me.
If only.
“I’ve made a decision,” he said, his accent thick. “I’m retiring from flying.”
I sat up straighter, surprised. “What?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and you’re right. You told me several months ago, after Hope died, that if you fly, you know your time will eventually come.” He shook his head. “And I’ve decided I don’t want my time to be up yet. I want to start a flying school and invent things and travel the world. There is so much more I want to do with my life.” He put his arm around my waist, drawing me closer to his side. “And so much more I want to live for.”
I didn’t resist him as he pulled me toward him—I yearned to be in his arms again—but even as he did, I knew it was only prolonging our agony.
“I love you,” he whispered, his mouth a breath away from mine. “And I want to marry you, Grace.”
My heart beat wildly as he laid his lips against mine. I responded to his kiss, inviting him to deepen it as I laid my hands against his face, drawing him closer to me. If desire and longing could have stopped time and made everything else disappear, I’m certain it would have happened then.
But when I pulled back, breathless, the reality of the situation crashed upon me.
“I promised Hope I would stay in 1692,” I whispered, a sob in my voice.
He leaned his forehead against mine, his arms still around me. His voice was strained as he said, “You will take my heart, mon amour.”
I kissed him again with tears in my eyes.
“I always knew you and Hope could not be separated,” he said as I pulled back. He ran his thumb down the side of my face with aching tenderness, heartbreak in his gaze. “I would never ask you to give up your sister for me.” He shook his head. “But, oh, how I want to.”
I leaned into his touch and closed my eyes. I wanted to say more, but what was the point?
For a long time, I sat there with my head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart and the crashing waves.
When we finally arrived at the hangar, the reporters were already waiting. I went inside and changed into my flying suit, but nothing felt right. My limbs were heavy, my thinking was foggy, and my heart wasn’t in flying.
But I had a job to do and commitments to fulfill, so I forced myself to smile.
After the pictures were over, one of the reporters asked if I would take up the flyer for a set of publicity photos. I looked to Luc, whose countenance was as heavy as mine, and he nodded. Twenty minutes later, I was in my aeroplane again.
I glanced at Luc, wanting him to know how much it broke my heart that I couldn’t have him, but somehow I knew he understood. It was in the way he smiled at me, in the way he continued to love me, even when I was breaking his heart.
I took off from Long Beach, the sunlight blinding me with its brilliance.
From the second my wheels left the sand, I knew something was terribly wrong.
One moment I was feeling the rush of weightlessness in my stomach, and the next, my world went black.
I woke up with a jolt—and inhaled a deep breath.
The room above the ordinary was cold and filled with an inky blackness that suffocated me. I reached through the darkness to where Hope usually slept but was reminded her spot was empty.
A shiver took over my body, and I tried wrapping myself in the blanket, but it was no use.
Something had woken me up with a start—and something had sent me reeling back to Salem with a force I had never experienced before.
I slowly sat up in the bed, ducking my head to avoid the slanted ceiling, as memories from Long Beach started to surface.
After the reporters had snapped a few pictures, I stepped into my aeroplane and took off from the beach. But something had felt wrong—and then there had been nothing.
And now I was back in Salem, with no other memories from yesterday.
Panic started to tighten my chest as the reality of what had happened hit me. Memories of Hope’s accident in Boston engulfed me. The rush of air she’d inhaled when she woke up in Salem after her death—the loss of memories—the shock of it all.
The slanted ceiling closed in on me, and my throat tightened. I wanted to cry out in disbelief and anger, but the sound was lodged in my throat. I put my fist to my mouth as my body began to tremble uncontrollably.
And then I wept.
The memory of sitting with Luc by the ocean filled me with a longing so intense, I couldn’t breathe. I had known I would lose him, but I had been hoping for a miracle. Instead, I had gotten the opposite. God had made the choice for me and taken me away weeks before I was ready to say good-bye.
The pain smothered me, and I began to hyperventilate. I clawed at the blankets, trying to find a foothold on reality. I needed Hope. I needed to know where she was and what had happened to her. I needed her reassurance that everything was going to be fine—because right now, I was terrified.
Something hit the window. At first I was too overcome with my emotions to pay attention—but then it hit the window again, and I realized it was the thing that had woken me up in the first place.
The distraction pulled me from my despair. I looked out the window and saw a man standing in the side yard. He was hidden in the bushes, but I could still see him—and I knew instantly who it was.
Isaac.
I had never known a heart could break and be filled with hope all at the same moment. I dressed as quickly and quietly as possible, my limbs weak and unsteady, then snuck out of my room and down the back stairs into the kitchen. My cloak hung on the hook near the door, so I grabbed it, hoping and praying that Leah would not hear me.
My heart was pounding as I quietly opened the back door and then closed it behind me, not wanting a draft to wake anyone. The moon was high and bright, telling me it was still early morning. I tiptoed around the back of the ordinary to where Isaac was waiting, close to the spot where Hope and I had been discovered with our cousin Rachel.
My relief at seeing Isaac was so keen, I rushed into his arms, tears streaming down my cheeks.
He held me for a moment, then pulled away. “We must hurry,” he said as he drew me toward the road in front of the ordinary.
“What if the watchman sees?”
“I’ve paid him. Now, come, and do not ask any more questions until we’re away.”
I did as he instructed, not even looking back at the ordinary as we ran down the road that led to Salem Towne.
Isaac’s wagon was waiting with his two horses attached. After he helped me up, he climbed aboard, and we were off.
I waited as long as I could before I asked, “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to Hope. She won’t rest until you’re by her side.”
“Where is she?”
“In Boston with friends of mine. We will not tarry long but will continue our journey tonight and make our way to New York.”
“New York?” It was a journey of over two hundred miles. It would take us days to get there.
“’Tis the safest place I can take her.” There was confidence in his voice—but there was fear, as well.
“Thank you,” I said to him. “For everything.”
He glanced at me and nodded. “I would do anything for her.”
“I know.”
There was a time when I would have been jealous of his statement, but now it brought me comfort—even if it pierced my soul, making me long for Luc.
We drove in silence most of the way, Isaac pushing the horses as fast as he could without tiring them. My mind and heart were on Luc, and if I had not been sitting beside Isaac, running for our lives, I would have been weeping.
It took over three hours, but we finally arrived in Boston, and Isaac took me to an imposing home on the harbor. It was dark within, but as soon as we pulled up to the front, the door opened, and Hope appeared.
Isaac leapt from the wagon and helped me down. My feet were barely on the earth before I was running toward my sister.
She met me halfway, on the street, and we embraced. The force of our hug was so intense, it took my breath away. I felt whole again—even if my heart was being torn in two.
“You’re here,” she said.
“Oh, Hope.” Tears cracked my voice. “Something horrible has happened.”
Isaac moved past us to the people in the house who had bags for him.
“There was an accident,” I whispered, unable to comprehend what I was even saying. “I died in California. One moment, I was taking off—and the next, I woke up with a start in Salem.”
She pulled me close again, her arms more comforting than any other. I melted into her embrace, drawing strength from her. “I’m so sorry, Grace. That was how it happened to me, too.”
I wept against my sister’s shoulder, not caring what Isaac’s friends thought of me. It was still dark, and the sky was filled with countless stars.
Hope whispered soothing words to me, but all too soon, Isaac was there with his friends, speaking softly.
“We must hasten away.”
Hope led me to the wagon, and we climbed into the back, where some blankets covered a bed of hay. Isaac instructed us to lay on the wagon bed, and his friends moved some of the trunks around us to create a barrier. Then they laid several warm blankets above us, cocooning us in a safe little haven.
I lay facing my sister, my eyes adjusted enough to see her. I was certain my face was red and splotchy, but I didn’t care. Hope had seen me at my best and my very worst, and she loved me no matter how I looked.
The wagon began to move, bouncing over the uneven road, as Isaac took us away from Massachusetts and all the madness.
“You love him dearly,” Hope said as she reached out and put her hand on my cheek.
A sob shuddered through me. “I do, with all my heart.”
“I’m so sorry, Grace.” She was crying, too. “I wanted to talk to you—to tell you—” She paused.
“What?”
Shaking her head, she said, “It doesn’t matter now. It will only hurt more.”
“Tell me, Hope. I don’t want any more secrets between us.”
“’Tis not a secret, and you will soon know. Isaac has asked me to marry him, and I’ve agreed—but only if you give us your blessing.”
“Do you love him?”
She nodded. “More than I thought possible. I was wrong about him. He’s not boring or a rule-follower. He’s passionate and adventurous and so very faithful.”
“I would never come between you,” I said, tears in my eyes. “You have my blessing.”
“You—” She paused and then tried again, “You do not love Isaac anymore?”
Despite my heartache, I clutched her hand. “I do love him, very much. But I’m not in love with him.” My heart belonged wholly to Luc.
She let out a soft cry. “I realized that I was being selfish to ask you to give up what you have with Luc to stay with me. I was going to tell you that you had my blessing to choose him.”
She was right. It didn’t matter now. The words were bittersweet, knowing Hope wanted my happiness above her own. Her sacrificial love meant more to me than any other. Mama would be so pleased to see this side of Hope blossom.
Thoughts of Mama and Daddy made my sorrow deepen.
All I could do was lay in my sister’s embrace and try not to think about everything I had lost.
Because I still had Hope.