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Authors: Elizabeth Langston

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BOOK: Whispers from the Past
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I stayed awake until late, pondering what this news meant and how I should respond.

The more I thought, the more Dorcas’s rescue became my focus. She was the one I loved most. The one whose life would have more hope had it not been for me.

I could continue to send my letters, but would they be enough?

And how would I ever learn what happened to her?

Frightening though the thought was, I had to consider the possibility of returning. And I ought to do so now, before the demise of Whisper Falls left me no choice.

There were many factors to assess before I could decide on such a course.

The uncertainty of the date of the storm weighed on me. It was likely to fall on the fifth of May. But what if I were wrong? I must have a plan that could be extended to the fifteenth of May.

I was being foolish, of course. For that length of time, I could not remain hidden. My brother might take me in, but there were his children; they couldn’t be expected to keep such a secret. Nor was it reasonable to expect anything of Dorcas.

Yet, if my presence was discovered by Mr. Pratt or Mr. Worth, I’d be jailed, which risked my life during the tornado as well. The prisoner’s shed where I had been held before would be no match for a gust of wind, much less a terrible tempest.

Perhaps I should not attempt the rescue in Worthville. Might Raleigh be the wiser choice? Could I entice Dorcas there?

Jedidiah and his wife might host a party and invite her.

No, I would drop that idea. I could never persuade them, and there were no guarantees that Mr. Pratt would allow her to attend.

What else could draw Dorcas to Raleigh—something that Mr. Pratt had no option but to permit?

A chill ran through me as the answer bloomed in my mind.
Susanna Marsh
could bring Dorcas to Raleigh. My name alone would have an irresistible appeal. Mr. Pratt, no doubt, would come with her, but that was an eventuality I couldn’t avoid.

The reason I’d be there was simple enough. I would petition to clear my name. If I put a case on the docket to move my contract to a new master, witnesses would be needed. Dorcas’s presence would be required.

I ran to the computer and checked for the spring court session in 1805. The week of April twenty-second. Thirteen days before May fifth.

I would need to be there for at least two weeks.

It could work. Once she was in Raleigh, I could persuade Jedidiah to host a gathering in her honor. She would have to stay. We could make the visit stretch.

Whom else did I know? Who else might help?

The Etons. Although the acquaintance was slight, they had known and admired my sister. Those feelings might be strong enough to extend to me. Senator Eton was a man of great influence. If I had his advice on my case, it would bode well for me. And if I could gain their assistance in keeping Dorcas there…

Was I mad to consider this plan?

Mad or not, it was the plan I had. It could work.

It
would
work.

Slipping from my bed, I crept down the hallway and out onto the balcony. It was quiet this late, and peaceful. I drank in the cool air and gripped the railing, my heart racing with fear and excitement.

I would make my final journey to the past. When I rejoined the twenty-first century, it would be with a free conscience.

There was much to accomplish in a month. I had to acquire appropriate clothing and shoes. Since I had no nineteenth-century currency, I would need to return with items I could sell. There would be a job to terminate and my living arrangement to relinquish. Fortunately, Marissa had acknowledged that I might leave after Mark and I broke up. She would now be able to find a less controversial roommate to split the rent.

The wedding invitations were nearly done. I would complete them quickly.

I would have to write letters to explain my absence to the Lewises. This would be the hardest task of all. How could I make them understand?

How could I help
him
understand?

The waterfall was the last puzzle to solve. Must the water flow in both centuries for passage to succeed? Might I arrive there and have no way back?

Would a trickle on Mark’s side be enough to receive me?

Whisper Falls had not failed me before. I had to trust it to provide me with the correct options.

But I was also forced to face a harsh truth. I could not count on returning to Mark’s world. In choosing to visit the past, I must accept the possibility of remaining there forever.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-T
WO

N
OT
M
UCH
E
LEVATION

Even though our trip to the mountains was a last-minute decision, Dad had found a decent place to stay. Late March wasn’t exactly high season in the mountains.

I immersed myself in the experience. Great trails. Perfect weather. Gorgeous views around every bend. And uninterrupted time with my father.

He didn’t ask about Susanna. Not once. I didn’t volunteer anything. It was the perfect father-son communication.

It was only as we were driving home Saturday evening, while he was napping on his side of the vehicle and I was monitoring I-40 traffic from my side, that I thought about how much busier spring break had turned out than I had originally planned. I’d made trips to DC and the mountains. Hung out with friends as much as I wanted. Had a longawaited—and maybe never-again-experienced—mountain biking trip alone with my dad.

I’d had what could honestly be described as the most awesome spring break of my life, and I would’ve traded it all to sit in my truck waiting in the parking lot of Lucy’s Farmhouse if Susanna had wanted me.

Did that make me a pathetic loser?

Self-pity flipped over inside me, twisted around, and morphed into bitterness. What the hell was wrong with her?

What the hell was wrong with
me
? I needed to grow up and let go. She did this. Not me.

It was late when we got home on Saturday. Mom smiled when we entered the kitchen. A light supper sat on the bar. We tossed our dirty clothes in the laundry room and headed in.

“Mark? Before you sit, check the table,” Mom said.

I glanced over. Two envelopes sat there. Two thick envelopes, addressed to me. One had Newman College as the return address, and the other had Virginia Tech.

It was good news. It had to be. I grabbed the closest one, slit it open, and ripped out the letter.

Congratulations, Mark Lewis, and welcome to the freshman class of Newman College
.

The college I wanted most had accepted me. I opened the one from Virginia Tech. Another acceptance.

Mom and Dad were happy. They hugged me and laughed. We sat around the table, ate supper, and talked about colleges.

Brevard and App State would get their no’s later tonight.

It became clear that Dad was pulling for Virginia Tech. No surprise there.

Mom seemed to want Duke, and that did surprise me. She’d acted pissed when I applied there. Of course, I’d applied because of Susanna. Maybe Mom really did like the idea of my going close by, and it
was
Aunt Pamela’s alma mater.

Yeah, I had a favorite too, and my main reason for saying no to Newman was gone.

Feeling the way I did now, it would be awful to be at Duke and to know that I might see Susanna around.

What if she got another boyfriend? I would go insane.

What if we reconciled, though?

No
. I couldn’t consider that possibility, either.

I had to make this decision—without Susanna nudging me in any direction. Which was exactly what she wanted me to do from the very beginning.

It pissed me off that she’d been right about this after all. But why couldn’t she have found a better way to communicate it to me than ripping my heart out?

I was checking some stuff online when a video call came in. I clicked ACCEPT.

Gabrielle’s face filled the screen. “Hi. How was the trip?”

“Great. We biked some amazing trails.” I held up the envelopes in front of the webcam. “I got into both Newman and Virginia Tech.”

“So you were accepted everywhere that you applied.”

“Yeah.” That was cool, too. I hadn’t thought about it that way, but it was nice to be wanted by five schools.

“It must be great to have so many choices. Especially Duke. They have such a great reputation. You could impress people all over the world with a degree from there.”

The expression on my face likely hadn’t changed. I was still smiling. Still excited. But it was strange that Gabrielle didn’t know—couldn’t tell—which school I wanted most. “True.”

“So you have about a month to make a final decision?”

“Yeah.”

“April will be busy.”

I nodded. With AP exams six weeks away, AP teachers had to get the major projects over with. Since I’d had AP Physics and English Lit in the fall semester, there would be review sessions for them. We had prom in four weeks. And, of course, the final college decision by May first. There was a lot to do. By comparison, May would be an easy month—mostly wrapping up high school and getting ready for graduation.

Gabrielle smiled brightly. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Come over to my aunt’s house, and we’ll celebrate the end of spring break. I’ll order takeout. Maybe we can watch a movie in the basement.”

“Yeah. Fine.” I hadn’t helped Granddad with the repair work yet, but I could get that done Sunday afternoon and still be back here in time to clean up and head over. “When?”

“Seven.”

We said good-bye and killed the call. I sent a text to Gran, letting her know when she would see me in the morning, then put away my laptop and got ready for bed.

I planned to arrive at the lake house early enough to hit some of the trails over there. Not much elevation around the lake, but it was gorgeous and peaceful. Sunday was going to be a good day.

I had survived for a week and a half without Susanna, and I was finally doing okay.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-T
HREE

S
OMEWHAT
F
RAYED

The need to settle the details on Dorcas’s side of the waterfall consumed me. How long could I wait for her to respond? How long must I hold off before I worked on a different plan?

No, I wouldn’t think such thoughts. She would respond.

Once the sun rose Saturday morning, I biked to the falls. The water flowed steady and strong.

I paused before Whisper Falls, overcome with grief. “Do you understand what’s ahead?” I asked aloud.

The waterfall sparkled in the early light.

Would it die slowly, or would the end come in an instant?

I wouldn’t ponder these thoughts. No good could come of it.

After reassuring myself that the other side held no dangers, I leapt through. There were three letters awaiting me.

I returned to the twenty-first century to read them.

April 2nd, 1804

Dear Susanna,

I love your letters, rare though they have been. Your news always fills me with joy.

It might be safer for me to burn your notes after reading them, but I do not. I have a most ingenious hiding place for them. Neither Papa nor Joan will ever think to look there. Lydia is of no concern, naturally. She does not do her normal chores well enough for me to worry over anything requiring extra effort.

The blacksmith from Ward’s Crossroads has contracted with a new apprentice. John Timmons is his name. He is quite presentable. They travel here on occasion to confer with Papa over horseshoes.

Mr. Timmons has visited our worship service for the past three Sundays. It is a puzzle, since his town has a meetinghouse, too. Deborah believes that he admires me, but that Papa will never permit a courtship.

She is surely correct about Papa, but I do so enjoy the thought that a gentleman, however unsuitable, admires me.

With fondest regards,
Dorcas

July 6th, 1804

Dear Susanna,

I have watched and watched, but I see nothing arrive. Do you know how I long to hear from you?

Mr. Timmons stole a kiss from me. Papa and the blacksmith had business with Uncle Worth and were walking to the village. Mr. Timmons and I lagged behind, as is wont for someone with my gait. When they disappeared around the bend, he pulled me to the side, asked my permission (which, being naturally curious, I gave), and kissed me.

Truly, I do not understand the fuss. I cannot see how the brief pressure of lips can lead to further immoral acts. I fear that Mr. Timmons and I went about it all wrong.

This issue perplexes me greatly. I have spied Aaron kissing Deborah, and they proceed with fervor. Long ago, when Jedidiah caught you kissing Mr. Lewis, I overheard his description to Papa, and it seemed as if you were an enthusiastic participant. Is this true? When next we meet, it must be a topic for us to discuss, for I have many questions.

With fondest regards,
Dorcas

BOOK: Whispers from the Past
10.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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