September Sky (American Journey Book 1) (27 page)

"No. I haven't. But that's no excuse for treating you shabbily."

Justin pondered a reply but decided to remain silent. He knew she was genuinely remorseful, and he didn't want to say or do anything that might jeopardize their newfound momentum.

When the quartet finished playing, Justin clapped with the others and then led Emily to an unoccupied corner of the pavilion. He spoke when he was sure others couldn't eavesdrop.

"You were quiet at dinner tonight. Did Levi get under your skin?"

"No. I enjoyed watching him squirm."

"It's kind of funny that he ended up with Goldie," Justin said. "I can't imagine asking someone I put in prison to anything, much less a formal dance. That's just too weird."

"I actually admire what he did," Emily said. "Levi could have asked several other women to this dance, but he didn't. When he heard that all of the librarians except Goldie were coming here tonight, he came over to the library and asked her out."

"Does he like her?"

"I think they are just friends," Emily said. "I asked her the same question yesterday and she shook her head. Then again, Goldie's very secretive about who she dates."

"What about Silas? He kind of keeps to himself too."

"He's a very private person, which was one of the reasons I wanted nothing to do with him. If I'm going to spend the rest of my life with a man, I want to know everything about him – warts and all. I doubt there are five people in this room who could tell you even five things about Silas. He's an enigma and a not very likeable one at that."

The band resumed playing.

"Shall we dance some more?" Justin asked.

"Of course."

Justin put one hand in Emily's and the other on her waist. When they began to find a rhythm in their newer, quieter dance space, he resumed the conversation.

"If Silas is an enigma, then what am I?" Justin asked.

Emily smiled.

"You're an enigma, too, albeit a much nicer one."

Justin tilted his head.

"Seriously? What is it about me that you don't understand?"

"How much time do you have?"

"I'm not that mysterious, Emily."

"You're
very
mysterious. I know almost nothing about you. Fortunately for you, Mr. Townsend, what I do know, I like."

Justin smiled. He decided to let the matter drop.

Justin pulled his date close and resumed an activity he called stumble avoidance. He knew he would never land a spot on
Dancing with the Stars
, but he didn't really care. He would rather trip and fall with Emily Beck than win a contest with anyone else.

For the next few minutes, Justin did nothing but look at his partner and enjoy a truly magical moment. He didn't speak until the band switched to a tune that sounded vaguely familiar.

"What's this song?" Justin asked.

"It's 'Daisy Bell,' of course."

"I thought it was 'Bicycle Built for Two,' or something like that."

"No. It's 'Daisy Bell.'"

"OK," Justin said. "I'll take your word for it. Either way, I've heard it before."

"I should hope you have."

"What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is that 'Daisy Bell' has been the most popular song in the country for eight years running," Emily said. "Don't they play it in California?"

Justin grinned.

"Only in elevators."

"What?"

"I'm just kidding."

Emily smiled and shook her head.

"I'm not sure I'd like California if they don't play songs like 'Daisy Bell.'"

"Trust me," Justin said. "You'd like California no matter what songs they played."

"I suppose."

Justin stepped on Emily's foot for the ninth or tenth time and fell backward. He caught himself just before he reached the point of no return.

"Ugh! Sorry," Justin said. "I'm just not much of a dancer."

"That's all right."

"Maybe you can teach me the waltz and some of these other crazy dances when you get the chance. I'd like that."

"I'll tell you what," Emily said. "I'll teach you the waltz if you teach me how to save people who are unconscious."

"You mean mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?"

"I mean mouth-to-mouth resuscitation," Emily said. She smiled and raised an eyebrow. "I'd
really
like that."

Justin stopped dancing, pulled his hand out of hers, and rubbed his chin.

"I believe I can fit you into my schedule."

"Good! How about tomorrow?"

"Oh, Lord," Justin said with a laugh. "You are a handful."

"Then
will
you teach me?"

"Yes. I'll teach you. But first you have to help me with my dancing."

Justin knew he was done dancing with Emily the second the words left his mouth. He looked over her shoulder and saw Anna stare at him with the saddest eyes he had ever seen.

"What's the matter?" Emily asked.

"It appears you have competition for my affections."

Emily turned around, looked at her sister, and giggled.

"I might as well surrender then. I can't compete with that," Emily said. She gazed at Justin lovingly, grabbed his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I think it's time for me to visit with friends. I'll meet up with you a little later."

Emily turned to Anna.

"You take good care of him now. Will you do that?"

Anna beamed, nodded, and blushed in one spasm of emotion.

Emily smiled and waved.

"Bye, y'all!"

Justin laughed as the woman he loved walked around the twirling mass of dancing couples and made her way for points unknown. When she disappeared from sight, he looked down at the mini Emily who looked up at him like he was a lottery prize.

"Do you know how to dance, Anna?"

"I think so."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Justin said.

"You were?" Anna asked.

Justin nodded.

"I was."

"Why?"

"Why?" Justin asked. "I'll tell you why."

He smiled warmly and grabbed both of Anna's hands.

"I was counting on my number-one girl to give me a lesson."

CHAPTER 43: CHUCK

Tuesday, June 26, 1900

Standing in the kitchen of his rustic beachfront property, Charles Townsend lifted a copper kettle from the top of a coal stove, poured coffee into two porcelain cups, and then watched his son replace a board in the wall behind the bunk bed.

"What are you doing?" Chuck asked.

"I'm just checking my hidey-hole," Justin said.

"You know, son, we can always put the crystal in a safe-deposit box."

"No, thanks. I don't trust any authority figures in this town – not even bankers."

"I don't either, to be perfectly honest," Chuck said.

When Justin finished his business and returned to the dining table, Chuck picked up the cups and joined him. He handed one of the cups to Justin and sat down. He laughed when his son took a sip of the brew and grimaced.

"It's not exactly French roast, is it?" Chuck asked.

Justin stared at his father.

"It's not exactly coffee."

Chuck laughed again.

"I'll buy you a better cup in town, if you want one," Chuck said. "I just wanted to make sure you were awake when I told you what I'm going to do."

"What's that?" Justin asked.

"I'm going to ask Charlotte to marry me."

Justin spit out the coffee that wasn't coffee.

"You're going to what?"

"You heard me," Chuck said. "I'm going to ask her to be my wife. I don't know when or how, but I'm going to do it sometime in the next three weeks."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"That's a big decision, Dad – a really big decision, one that affects me. Shouldn't you at least see what I think before you start popping any questions?"

"That's what I'm doing now," Chuck said.

"You're not though. You just said you've already decided to propose. What if I don't agree to your plans? What if I don't want to stay here?"

"I'm not asking you to stay in Galveston, Justin. I'm not asking you to stay in 1900. I would never do that to you. Whatever we do, we'll do together."

"Then what
are
you saying?" Justin asked.

"I'm saying that when I ask for Charlotte's hand, I'm going to tell her who we really are and insist that any life we have together be spent in 2016."

"Don't you think that's unfair to her?"

"Of course it's unfair," Chuck said. "It's extremely unfair. That's why I want to ask her sooner rather than later. I want to give her as much time as possible to consider doing something I will not do, which is to leave my family and the world I know forever."

"You know Professor Bell will blow a gasket."

"I'm sure he will. He'll rant and rave and swear and scream and insist that I send Charlotte back, provided that she comes with us in the first place," Chuck said. "I don't care. I will not let his silly rules interfere with my happiness."

Justin sipped his coffee, lowered his cup to the table, and smiled sadly.

"I'm happy for you, Dad," Justin said. "I really am. I like Charlotte. I like her almost as much as you do. I would love to have her as a stepmother."

"Then why the long face?"

"I think you know," Justin said.

"You want to take Emily with us too?"

"You know I do. You also know that she would never agree to leave Galveston. If I want a future with her, I'd have to stay right here. I'd have to stay in 1900. I don't want to do that any more than you do. I miss home. I miss my life in California."

"Are you sure about Emily?" Chuck asked. "She's pretty independent-minded and career-oriented. She just might welcome the idea of going to a time where women have opportunities."

"She might like 2016 but not enough to leave what she loves. She would never abandon her family, particularly Anna. I know Emily well enough to know that."

Chuck berated himself for not seeing this coming. He knew his son loved Emily as much as he loved Charlotte, but he also knew that Justin was right. His situation was different –
much
different. Justin loved someone with much deeper ties to the town and the times. He could not imagine Emily leaving Galveston and 1900 under
any
circumstances.

"I wish I could give you some answers, but I can't," Chuck said. "I agree with your take on the situation. I don't think Emily would leave either."

He sipped his coffee.

"What I can tell you is that today is June 26. We have until September 18 to leave 1900. That's a long time. Be patient, Justin. Don't lose faith. A lot can happen in twelve weeks."

CHAPTER 44: CHUCK

Houston, Texas – Saturday, June 30, 1900

The house that Hiram Fitzpatrick built was not the biggest in downtown Houston or the most ornate, but with massive columns, dormers, and arched windows, the redbrick Georgian mansion inspired awe, respect, and, in one time traveler's case, curiosity.

"Who lives in this place?" Chuck asked.

"No one does when Wyatt and Silas are away," Charlotte said. "Except for the housekeepers and gardeners, who reside in the building behind us, the property is unoccupied."

"What a shame."

Charlotte smiled and raised her glass of wine.

"Here's to empty houses."

Chuck, sitting on the other side of a white wicker table, raised his mint julep.

"Here's to houses I'll never live in."

Charlotte gave him a scolding glance.

"Don't be such a pessimist, Charles. You may be one book away from fame and fortune."

Chuck smiled. He knew he would never possess the riches of the Fitzpatrick brothers, but he didn't care. He had something far more valuable – the love of a good woman. His challenge was how to keep that love in the face of several challenges.

Chuck started to praise Charlotte's optimism but stopped when he saw Wyatt Fitzpatrick step out of the house and approach the table. The co-host of the Gulf Star Line's annual Founder's Day celebration wore a dapper suit, a stylish hat, and a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"There you are," Wyatt said. "I see you found the bar. Is there anything I can get you?"

"I think I have everything I need, Wyatt. Thank you," Chuck said.

"How about you, Charlotte? Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you.

"Where's Rose?" Chuck asked.

Wyatt smiled.

"She's playing charades with a few of my employees."

Chuck laughed.

"I figured she was up to something."

"You're welcome to join them," Wyatt said.

"I just may," Chuck said. "I've always wanted to play that game."

Charlotte smiled slyly.

"Is that another thing that hasn't made its way to California?"

"There are a
lot
of things that haven't made their way to California, Mrs. Emerson."

Charlotte raised a brow.

"Such as?"

Wyatt chuckled.

"I'll leave you two to your debate," Wyatt said. "Should you need to find me, I'll be mingling with guests in the parlor or keeping an eye on Rose."

"Thanks, Wyatt. We'll see you a little later," Chuck said.

Wyatt tipped his hat to Charlotte and left the scene.

"He seems rather upbeat," Chuck said. "I wonder why."

Charlotte sighed.

"I believe I know. I think our ladies man has finally decided to settle down."

"Really?"

Charlotte nodded.

"Rose told me that Wyatt has been hinting at marriage lately. She thinks he'll propose by the end of the summer," Charlotte said. She offered a playful glance. "Men do that, you know."

"Yes, they do."

Chuck smiled nervously. When Charlotte's lingering gaze began to make him uncomfortable, he looked away, to his left, and saw an opportunity to change the subject.

"I see a line forming at the buffet table," Chuck said. "Would you care for something to eat?"

"I think I'll wait," Charlotte said. "My stomach is a bit unsettled."

"All right."

Grateful for the temporary reprieve, Chuck settled into his chair and let his eyes wander. He scanned the large backyard and saw more than fifty people talk, drink, and enjoy themselves on a refreshingly cool early summer evening.