September Sky (American Journey Book 1) (39 page)

"What?"

"Your smile. If I remember nothing else about my time here, I'll remember your smile. It's already etched in my mind."

Justin looked at Emily's smiling face and watched the tears return. Only this time, he knew they came from a happy place.

"We should go back," Justin said. "Your parents are probably wondering where we are."

"You're right," Emily said. She sighed. "When do you plan to leave?"

"You mean leave your house?"

"No. I mean Galveston."

"I'm not sure. My dad wants to stay here as long as necessary to free Wyatt from jail. That means we'll probably leave on Friday," Justin said. "We'll catch a train to Houston, ride out the storm over the weekend, and take off for California on Monday."

"You can't stay longer?"

"We can't if we don't want to risk getting stuck in 1900. We don't know exactly when the crystal will run out of power. The sooner we get back to Los Angeles, the better."

"That means we have just a few more days together," Emily said.

Justin smiled.

"In fact, we have eight –
if
you and your family go to Houston this weekend."

"We're going. We'll probably leave on the same train," Emily said. "What's strange is that Papa didn't object to my suggestion that we leave town for a few days. He never takes my ideas seriously, but he did this time."

"Maybe he finally realizes that he has an intelligent daughter who is capable of doing more than giving him grandchildren," Justin said.

"I'd like to believe that, but I think it was something else. I didn't have to even try to persuade him. When I suggested that we do some shopping in Houston before Anna started school, he just nodded. A few hours later, he called a hotel and reserved a room."

Justin pondered the comments for a moment. Did Max comply so easily because he respected his daughter's opinion or because he knew that a hurricane was coming?

"Has your father redirected any of his ships to new destinations?" Justin asked.

"I don't think so," Emily replied.

"Do you know if any will be in port this weekend?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious," Justin said. "I'd hate to see any of his assets damaged by the hurricane. Make sure he reads the weather reports in the papers this week."

"I will."

Justin smiled softly and looked at a face he would never forget. He put his hands on Emily's shoulders and kissed her again.

"I have just one more question," he said. "Will you see me off when we leave next Monday?"

Emily nodded.

"You know I will."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"Now, I have a question for you," Emily said.

"What?"

"What are you doing Wednesday night?"

"I don't think I'm doing anything," Justin said. "What are you doing?"

"What I'm doing that night is not important. What I'm
not
doing is. I won't be attending a performance of
The Merry Wives of Windsor
with my parents and Anna."

Justin blushed.

"When they leave at six, I want you to pay a visit to the house," Emily said. She kissed him on the lips. "Before I say goodbye to you, I want to say
goodbye
."

CHAPTER 67: CHUCK

Wednesday, September 5, 1900

Chuck needed only a quick glance at the newspaper's weekly digest of events to know that there was more going on in the world than a murder investigation in Texas.

Robert Leroy Parker and Harry Longabaugh had robbed a Union Pacific train in Tipton, Wyoming, on August 29. Known to the world as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the outlaws had made off with more than fifty thousand dollars.

The next day, "Gentleman Jim" Corbett had knocked out Kid McCoy in the fifth round of a bout at Madison Square Garden. It was the former boxing champion's first win in six years.

On September 1, the German-American Telegraph Company had opened the first direct line between Germany and the United States. Spanning nearly five thousand miles, the line was the longest across the Atlantic Ocean.

Then there were the usual updates on the Boer War, the Boxer Rebellion, and the presidential campaign between William McKinley and William Jennings Bryan. It was enough to give a world-weary time traveler a serious case of déjà vu.

"Do you see anything interesting in the paper today?" Charlotte asked.

"I see a lot of interesting things, like stories on robberies, fights, and transatlantic cables," Chuck said. "What I don't see is an update on the hurricane. It has to be getting close."

"How do you know?"

"I can feel it," Chuck said. "The weather is starting to get more intense. That thunderstorm last night did more than make a lot of noise. It took out the power downtown. The police had to use bicycle lights and railroad lanterns just to find their way around."

"Did you go to the station this morning?"

Chuck nodded.

"I did while you were sleeping. I wanted to see if the police in San Antonio had made any progress with Goldie. The officer in charge didn't know anything about Wyatt's case, but he knew everything about the power outage. I guess the electricity is still out in some buildings."

"Did you see Wyatt?" Charlotte asked.

"No. I asked to see him, but the officer wouldn't allow it. I hope to see him later today when I meet with Hannibal Butler. He's still trying to get the charges dismissed based on the discovery of Rose's ring in Goldie's purse."

"We have to get Wyatt out of jail before the weekend," Charlotte said. "Do you still think the storm is coming on Saturday?"

Chuck sipped his coffee.

"I do. It's the only day that makes sense. I distinctly remember reading that the hurricane hit town on a weekend and that cleanup efforts began on a Sunday. We all need to be on a train to Houston by Friday."

Charlotte gazed at her husband, who sat across from her at their small kitchen table, and then at a painting on a wall. The painting showed a farmer and his son racing toward a barn to escape a coming storm. When she looked again at Chuck, she did so with troubled eyes.

"We have to warn people, Charles. We can't just leave Galveston and let people die."

"I agree, Charlotte, but there's only so much we can do. We can't force the mayor to issue an alert or the papers to warn their readers. We can't physically put people on trains and boats."

"So what can we do?"

"We can do a lot," Chuck said. "We can talk to everyone we know and say what we must to persuade them to leave. Justin has already succeeded with Emily and she, in turn, has succeeded with her family. The Becks have reserved a hotel room in Houston for the weekend."

"What can I say to people who don't believe a hurricane is coming?"

"Don't mention the storm. Mention something else. Invite them to a Saturday picnic on the mainland. Tell them they have to be there by noon or they will miss out on something big. Make something up, Charlotte. They'll believe you."

"I don't like to lie."

"I don't either," Chuck said, "but this is one time we have to. The truth probably won't cut it. You know how people are. They believe if they can ride out one storm, they can ride out another. What they don't understand is that this will be no ordinary hurricane. If they are not off this island by Saturday afternoon, they won't get off at all."

"There has to be something we can do to persuade more people to leave. Have you spoken to Mr. Cline at the Weather Bureau?" Charlotte asked.

"I did yesterday. He's tracking the storm as well, but he hasn't issued any warnings. I'm not sure it would do any good if he did. When people think they are immune from harm, it's hard to convince them otherwise."

"We have to do more," Charlotte said.

"We will, darling. We will."

"I hope so."

Chuck reached across the table, put a hand on Charlotte's forearm, and gazed at her lovely but tired eyes. He could see that she had a lot on her mind – and not just the storm or the ongoing investigation of the murder of her best friend. Something was different.

"Are you feeling all right? You seem tense."

Charlotte smiled sadly.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes," Chuck said. "I've noticed a difference. I know you've had a rough month, but it seems like you have more on your mind than Rose, Wyatt, and the hurricane."

Charlotte sighed.

"I do."

"What is it then?"

Charlotte gazed at Chuck for several seconds with eyes he couldn't read. When the awkward moment passed, she placed a hand on his face and caressed his cheek.

"When you ran your errands yesterday, I ran one of my own," Charlotte said. "I paid a visit to Dr. Wilkinson."

Chuck sat up in his chair.

"Are you all right?"

Charlotte nodded.

"I haven't felt the best the last few mornings, but I'm OK."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. At least Dr. Wilkinson thinks I'm OK."

Charlotte took a breath.

"He thinks I'm about six weeks along."

She smiled softly.

"We're going to have a baby."

CHAPTER 68: CHUCK

Friday, September 7, 1900

Two hours after receiving a telephone call from Hannibal Butler, Chuck found himself in a police waiting room that had become as familiar to him as his own living room. He put his arm around Charlotte, who stood at his right, and then glanced to his left, where Justin and Emily patiently awaited news about a break in the Rose O'Malley murder case.

"How are you doing?" Chuck asked his son.

"I'm antsy," Justin said. "I wish Mr. Butler had told you more."

"I'm sure he would have told me more if he could have. We just have to be patient. I don't think we'll have to wait much longer."

Chuck looked at the young woman standing at Justin's side.

"How are
you
doing, Emily?"

Emily turned her head and gave Chuck a smile that looked forced.

"I'm doing all right."

Chuck nodded and then returned his attention to his wife. He didn't believe Emily for a minute. He knew for a fact she was miserable, but he also knew there was nothing he could do to make her feel better or change a situation that had left her in the dumps for days.

Justin had updated Chuck on that situation on Sunday. He had said that Emily would not leave her family permanently, under any circumstances, and that he would have no choice but to return to Los Angeles and 2016 without her.

As Chuck considered each of the people in the room, he thought about the opportunities and challenges that each of them confronted. Each faced a period of adjustment.

He worried least about Emily. He knew that even though she was heartbroken, confused, and angry that she would get back on her feet. She would return to Vassar, find a satisfying career, and eventually meet another man who would remind her that men were not so bad after all. She would thrive in the early 1900s because that was her time.

Chuck knew that Justin, too, would adjust. Like Emily, he would return to college, make a new life for himself, and find someone special to share that life. He would use the perspective he had gained in 1900 to excel and thrive in
his
time.

He worried most about Charlotte. Unlike the others in the room, she
was
leaving her time and everything she loved about it. He wondered how she would adjust to the digital age and to raising a child in an environment that would surely seem as strange and scary as a foreign country.

When Chuck thought about his own situation, he smiled. He had come to Texas to save an innocent man but in the process had saved himself. He had found answers and happiness in one incredible woman. He looked forward to life with his beautiful wife and their new child.

Chuck glanced again at Justin and saw him fidget. He could see that his son was nervous about the outcome of a case that had taken on new importance in the past week.

Justin had asked to assist with Wyatt's defense after visiting the Becks on Sunday. He had told Chuck that if he couldn't return to 2016 with the woman he loved, he wanted to at least return with the knowledge that he had helped to save a man's life.

So Justin had spent the next four days asking questions, running errands, and even poring over Texas law. He had been the best investigative assistant that Chuck could have asked for and clearly looked forward to seeing his efforts bear fruit.

Chuck started to say something soothing to his son but stopped when he heard footsteps in the corridor that led to the waiting room. He looked up just in time to see Deputy Chief of Police Patrick O'Malley walk through the door with Hannibal Butler, three local reporters, and Wyatt Fitzpatrick. Wyatt walked toward his friends the second he entered the room.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Chuck asked.

"It does, Charles. They're letting me out," Wyatt said. "I'm a free man."

The two men embraced.

O'Malley greeted two more reporters as they passed through the door and then asked all of the people in the room to take a seat. When they did, he walked to the front of the room, turned around, and addressed his audience of eleven.

"Thank you for your patience, folks. I apologize for the delay, but I wanted to make certain that I had all of the facts before providing a statement to reporters."

O'Malley gave Wyatt a sympathetic glance and then looked at the others.

"About three hours ago, I learned that Maxine 'Goldie' Gates, age twenty-nine, of Galveston confessed to the murder of Rose O'Malley. Miss Gates had been a suspect in the case since incriminating evidence, an engagement ring belonging to the deceased, was found in her purse after she was brought in for questioning last week in San Antonio. Miss Gates, a former colleague of Miss O'Malley's at the Texas Maritime Library, made a full confession following a week of negotiations between her attorney and prosecutors. She continues to cooperate with authorities. As a result of the confession …"