Chapter 18
Daisy always thought you could tell a lot about a person by traveling with them, and she should know.
Several relationships hadn’t even managed to survive a weekend getaway.
But this trip? Other than a few misunderstandings, they’d gotten along really well.
Callan was laid back and easy to travel with.
Interested in everything around him, not to mention the tour guides loved all the insightful questions he invariably asked.
Leaving Philadelphia behind, they set off towards Gettysburg as she looked up at the sky.
“Hope it doesn’t rain. Driving in the rain is the worst.”
Callan wiped Frankie’s paws before the dog jumped into the van. He rotated his left shoulder, looked at the clouds, then at her. “Nay, lass. It willna rain today.”
She opened the weather app on her phone. “How can you be so sure? It says it’s going to rain.”
“My shoulder aches when it is going to rain. You’ll see.” He held out his hand. “Want me to drive the carriage? ’Tis your turn to relax.”
“Sounds good to me. It’s about a two and a half hour drive. We should stop and pick up some more road trip snacks.” With a shrug, she handed him the keys.
“Aye. I would like more of the sweet and spicy jerky and those Snickers candy bars.”
She pulled her hair up into a bun. “I knew you had a sweet tooth.”
While Daisy was glad Callan wasn’t in a hurry, that he was enjoying the journey, she wondered why he wasn’t more eager to meet the relatives of his brother’s wife? Maybe he was nervous? Or maybe he simply enjoyed her company. That’s what she hoped.
As they turned down the block, she pointed to a grocery store. “Pull in here. We can get snacks and restock the groceries.”
Callan looked in the rearview mirror. “Frankie needs more biscuits.”
Her dog had him wrapped around his finger … or was it his tail? She pondered the thought as they parked, noticing Callan was getting much better at parking the van.
The doors whooshed open as they entered the store, and Callan was immediately hit by a wave of cold air. The people in this time liked the air so cold inside the shops, when ye went outside ye immediately started sweating.
The sounds of music filled the space, people pushing metal carts up and down the aisles, selecting their food. The lights overhead cast a stark, bright glow on the endless rows of products.
“I have the list.” He pulled a scrap of paper from the pocket of his jeans, reading the items. “Milk, bread, dog biscuits and food.”
There was a smile on her face as she looked at him.
“You do not like to make a list, and then we wander up and down every aisle while you decide what you want.”
She grinned. “You’ve got me there. I’m glad one of us is organized. I’ll push the cart and you check off the list.”
With a nod, he took charge of gathering the supplies. The sheer abundance of choices was overwhelming. There were dozens of varieties of bread alone, each packaged neatly in plastic bags.
“Is there a reason there are so many kinds of bread?” he asked, bewildered.
“People like variety,” Daisy explained, grabbing a loaf of white sandwich bread. “It’s all about preference.”
Hrumph. He did not know why so many choices were necessary, but he checked off the bread as they moved to the next section, the dairy aisle.
“Why does the milk come in different colors?” He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin, glad they had purchased razors. And not pink ones. These had a manly black handle.
“Some people like chocolate or strawberry. The labels are different colors, so you know what percentage of fat is in the milk. Personally, I like whole milk.”
Who knew milk wasn’t simple milk? They continued through the store, picking up fruits, vegetables, food for the dog, and an array of the road trip snacks they both liked. With everything checked off the list, they got in line.
“Ready to check out?” Daisy asked.
“Aye,” Callan replied, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “I think we’ve got enough to last us a sennight.”
Daisy laughed. “I’m not sure. I know how hungry you get.”
They packed the groceries away and set off once more, the city gradually giving way to open highways and rolling fields as they took the back roads. He preferred the back roads, even though it took longer to get where they were going.
As they drove, Daisy glanced over at him. “Tell me everything you’ve tried so far to go back to your own time.”
Callan sighed, putting on his blinker to turn.
“I’ve sought out those who claimed to be witches, but none could aid me, and some of them laughed at me.”
He thought for a moment.
“I went outside and stood in a storm, and under a full moon beseeching the fates to send me home, but either they weren’t listening or they dinna care.”
Daisy frowned thoughtfully. “We’ll have to do some research and come up with other ideas. There has to be something you haven’t tried yet.”
“The witch at the Faire said I came through on Samhain, which is a feast day, though when I arrived in this time ’twas May. She said I should try again on Lughnasadh, the next Celtic holiday, otherwise she said I must wait until Samhain.”
He looked over at her, but Daisy swore he didn’t look quite as sad this time.
“There must be a way. I canna believe I am meant to stay here forever.”
Ouch. That hurt. But she nodded, keeping her face calm. From now on, if a guy didn’t want to be with her, then she didn’t want him around. So if Callan wanted to go back to his own time, no matter how much she liked him, she wouldn’t stand in the way.
“We’ll figure it out together. The laundry is piling up, so let’s do laundry today, and then we’ll see what else we can find out online.”
He smiled just as the sun came out. “I’d be grateful for your aid.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I know what it’s like to want a family. But just so you know, I kind of like having you around.”
“And I’m glad to be here with you, lass.” He glanced up at the sky, rubbing his shoulder. “It willna last, though. ’Tis going to rain.”
He hadn’t gotten used to the navigation on the phone yet, and was still startled when the voice spoke to him, making her laugh.
“Not far now.”
What had people done before smartphones?
Sure, they could use paper maps or ask for directions, but finding campgrounds?
There must have been lists that people could somehow access.
Grateful for a camping app that listed amenities, reviews, and showed pictures of the campsites, Daisy booked a place in Gettysburg that had showers, laundry facilities, a pool, and even a small convenience store and cafe that served a big breakfast every morning.
It was clean and there were mostly families in big RVs when they pulled in.
Tomorrow they’d explore before going on to Richmond and Washington, DC. Then they’d get to North Carolina and the end if their road trip.
What would happen then? Would he stay there while she went back to Boston?
Or worse, would he actually go back to his own time?
Unwilling to think about it, Daisy directed him to the spot she’d reserved, then helped him gather up the laundry.
She’d been trying to keep it in the hamper, but most times she forgot.
Callan leaned against the washer, watching the clothes spin round and round until he abruptly sat down, making her giggle.
“Did you make yourself dizzy?”
He actually turned the slightest bit pink. “Nay, I was tired from driving. People are rude in the metal beasts.”
That they were. The bigger cities were worse, the drivers more impatient, the traffic heavier.
The scent of laundry detergent and dryer sheets filled the air.
They were inside while Frankie slept in the van under the shade of several trees.
She’d left the fan running to keep him cool though with it raining, the temperature had dropped to where it almost felt chilly.
It was a perfect day to do laundry, tidy up the van, and bury their noses in the tablet and laptop.
She’d looked it up. Lughnasadh wasn’t until August first, plenty of time for him to want to stay.
There were three other people doing laundry, sitting quietly while they waited for their clothes. When a man put a few dollars in the machine to get quarters for the washer, she jumped. All the machines had card readers, but she guessed some people liked using change.
The sloshing of clothes in the washers and the sound of clothes tumbling inside the dryers were comforting as she sipped a Pepsi. Callan was fond of root beer and Dr. Pepper. He’d tried a couple of the energy drinks but after he’d been up all night, he said never again.
She gave him the tablet while she worked on the laptop, her eyes glued to the screen, tapping away as she searched for ideas on how Callan might be able to travel through time back to the 14th century.
He went to get a cup of complementary ice before going to the machine and getting them both another soda.
They had them in the refrigerator in the van, but if they went back, Frankie would want out and she did not want a muddy dog tracking all over their tiny home.
It was hard sharing such a small space, but so far they’d both been careful to stay out of each other’s way.
“This place is a far cry from scrubbing clothes by the river.”
Daisy looked up from the screen, a smirk playing on her lips. “And you don’t have to worry about losing your clothes downstream.”
His low, rumbly laugh made her toes curl.
“Aye, that was always a risk, but I only lost my plaid once. Had to walk to the village in naught but my shirt.”
He paused. “I’m not proud of what I did, but it was the year after my mum passed and I was starving and poor, so I stole a plaid from my clan.”
“You did what you had to do in order to survive.”
Callan leaned back in the hard plastic orange chair. “What have you found so far?”
“Not much, honestly,” Daisy admitted, her brow furrowing. “There are a lot of theories, but nothing concrete. Some people think it’s possible through quantum physics, others talk about wormholes, and then there are the more mystical approaches, like using ancient relics or spells.”
She thought for a moment. “Kit, one of my friends, adored time travel books. I texted her to ask her to look up how the people in the books traveled.” A sheepish grin filled her face. “I know it’s fiction, but maybe there’s something in there that could help you.”
As she talked, he looked thoughtful.
“Tell me everything you can remember.”
He crossed his legs at the ankles and told her again about Halloween, the storm, being wounded, and the feeling of energy flooding his body. How when he came to, ’twas no longer Samhain and his wound was healed.”
“Maybe we need a storm?” She tapped her lip. “Or blood. Blood always seems to figure prominently in movies and books.”
With the arch of a brow, he said, “I will give ye a drop, but no stabbing me, lass.”
She laughed as the washer beeped, signaling the end of its cycle. Callan opened the door and transferred the wet clothes to the dryer.
“Why are there so many choices on these machines?” Callan asked, squinting at the array of buttons and dials.
“In case you have a big or small load, or want to wash quickly or have really dirty stuff,” Daisy explained.
“Then again, it’s probably more likely that they keep coming up with other cycles and options so companies sell more machines.”
Callan shook his head in amazement. “Modern life is full of such complexities.”
Their first stop the next day was the Gettysburg National Military Park Museum.
Callan was fascinated by the weapons on display. Muskets, sabers, and cannons. He was all about the cannons.
Next, they took a guided tour of the battlefield. The open fields stretched out before them, dotted with monuments and markers. The guide’s voice was clear and passionate, recounting the events of those three fateful days in July 1863.
“The Union and Confederate armies clashed here,” the guide said, pointing to a distant ridge. “The fighting was fierce and relentless. Thousands of men gave their lives on this ground.”
And of course, Callan had eight thousand questions for the guide, who seemed delighted to have a history buff in the group.
There was a stillness in the air as they walked through the fields, the grass rustling softly underfoot.
As if the ghosts of the past weren’t far, keeping watch over their fallen comrades.
Instead of spending another night in Gettysburg, they decided to drive the hour and a half to Washington and camp in the nation’s capitol, as they’d easily need an entire day for sightseeing.
Since they hadn’t made time for a Broadway show when they were in New York, Daisy went online and got them tickets for the symphony as she didn’t think he’d care for an opera.