But Not Forever Read online

  “Clues. Something they might find if they go back to the house and dig around. I’ll hide clues and try to communicate. Let them know I’m okay and trying to find a way back.”

  “Yes, of course! Tell me what to do. I shall help you—”

  There was a sharp knock on the door. “Kerry! Is that you talking?” Thorn’s voice bleated through the thin wood, inches from where we sat. Panic swept over us. The bed was too low to the ground for me to crawl under. There was nowhere to hide.

  “Yes, madam. I sit quoting the Bible.”

  I pressed against the wall where the opened door might hide me. Kerry crammed the book she had been holding under the covers and snatched a Bible off the bedside table. She rolled off the bed and stood as far from me as she could get, clutching the black, leather-bound book out in front of her, her face a blank. “Please enter.”

  The door punched open. Thorn stood on the threshold, so close to my trembling body, I could taste her perfume. I held my breath and prayed I wouldn’t sneeze.

  “Maxwell will take the boys and myself down the mountain to the Miller Farm tomorrow, Kerry. Jacob and Miles are going to ride ponies and have lunch with little Wendell and Walter while Missus Miller and I take tea. I want them ready at quarter past ten, after their porridge. Have them in their new brown-and-tan summer riding gear. After we have been safely delivered, Maxwell will return and take Mister Sweetwine and Miss Emma to dine in town. Please help her dress in the yellow silk day suit.”

  “Yes, madam.”

  “Jacob seemed diminished at the table tonight. Did you notice anything amiss with him today?”

  “No, madam. He seemed fine to me.”

  “He is so sensitive to people’s feelings. He seems eternally upset about his sister, and that infuriates me. She is a bad influence on my sons.”

  “I will let you know if I notice anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Yes, do. Report anything she does that you feel is affecting Jacob. She is morose and melancholic, and she inflicts her mood on him.”

  “Yes, madam, I certainly will.”

  “One more matter. I have instructed Bess, as well, but I want you to give her assistance. Emma’s apparel, shoes, and sundries must be gone through and either repaired and cleaned for keeping, or set aside if too worn or small. I will need a detailed list of everything she needs for the coming school year, including warm outer garments, coats, and hats. Also footwear. I suppose some of her things are worn through.”

  “Why, madam?”

  “What do you mean, why? How dare you ask me why? That is none of your business.”

  “I’m sorry, madam. I . . . I thought it might make it easier to make decisions about the clothing and such—”

  “Just do as you are told. Do not forget your station. I am not opposed to using the switch on hired help that require it. You know that, do you not? And you know I have already let several people go since you started with us. Do you consider yourself immune?”

  “No, madam.”

  Was Kerry going to be hit? My flapping heart was a bird with a hundred pairs of wings. I shut my eyes, squeezing, squeezing, and counted backwards from one hundred, ready to explode.

  “Now. You may continue quoting the good book, Kerry. Do it quietly. The rest of the house is sleeping.”

  “Yes, madam.”

  The door closed with a loud crack, tossing my lungs a life jacket.

  I slurped air as Kerry and I faced each other, expressions frozen in mutual dread. I waited long minutes until my heart settled down and the sound of Thorn’s clacking footsteps had disappeared into the night. Then I, too, left the room, my shocked legs shunting me back down the dark stairs and hallway to the safety of Emma’s bedroom.

  Just as I opened the bedroom door I heard what sounded like crying. The quiet yelps and snuffling didn’t come from the nursery. The noise came from the direction of the front staircase. I followed the sound. Around the corner and up a short flight of stairs was the inside of the tallest turret. Was that Thorn crying?

  I heard a man’s voice growling out a plea for silence.

  John.

  The mewling stopped.

  I slunk back to Emma’s room and shut myself in for the night.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Emma

  2015

  Rapp’s uncle opened the front door and sent the Macadangdang, McKay, and Sweetwine gang plummeting down old wooden stairs to the lower level. Rapp waited at the bottom and led them to a large room. Evan banged the door shut behind them, ready to seal off their secrets between pine-paneled walls.

  Couches and chairs circled a low table. Sooty ashes from a brick fireplace filled the room with a spent gunpowder-like scent doing battle with the aroma of clean laundry emanating from a mound of folded clothes. A stringed instrument with wires and knobs coming out of its red body and wooden neck lay across a small bed. Next to that was stacked luggage with a lamp balanced on top. Beside the lamp was a tower of books.

  Suitcases casually flung on the floor of a sleeping room once more. Had Rapp also come from somewhere far away?

  “Glad to see you finally woke up.”

  Emma looked toward the voice. There he was. Tall and striking. With a face as known to her as her own hand. She had not dreamt it. He wore pants that came to his knees again, and so did Evan. After her jaunt downtown with Lia, men’s baggy clothing and naked legs no longer startled her. She understood, now.

  “Hello, Rapp. Yes, I finally woke up. As Lia says, I had time travel lag.” Emma laughed along with her new companions and reveled in the attention. The speed with which she had become intimate with these people was astounding. They had only met a few days ago, and she had already been invited into four of their bedrooms.

  She patted her tight jeans. “I’m developing a love for Sonnet’s clothing. And Lia has shown me many ingenious things. We live a rustic and difficult life compared to you.”

  Evan said, “Good coach, Lia. Emma’s just part of our team now. She’ll definitely pass as Sonnet until we can switch them back. ‘Team Switch.’ That’s what we’ll call ourselves.”

  “Team Switch,” said Emma, trying it out. “I love it. Our surreptitious enterprise captured in your two perfect words.”

  “Your words are perfect.” Evan laughed. “You increase our lame vocabulary every time you open your mouth.”

  Niki had been talking into her slender box. Her cell phone. “Hey, are you ready to go to a party later today, Emma? We’ve all been invited over to my friend’s house on Fairweather Bay. Sam’s family has a speedboat, and we get to take it out. It’ll be pretty exciting for you. You’re gonna literally fly across Lake Washington.”

  “Truly, it will be my first ride in a boat, Niki! Am I ready for a party on Lake Washington, Lia? Am I ready to fly across the lake? It sounds like a marvelous outing.”

  Lia smiled at her. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re ready for anything. You’re the best pupil I’ve ever had.”

  “The only pupil you’ve ever had,” said Jules. “And, really? Old-fashioned Emma in a bikini. That’s a joke, right?”

  “I’ll show her some options,” said Lia. “She can decide what she wants to wear. It’s not like she’s a baby, Jules. We don’t need to coddle her.”

  “Bikini?” Emma glanced back at Lia, her source for answers to all things confusing.

  “Oh, this is gonna be good,” said Evan, laughing.

  “Hey, Team Switch. Focus. We need to ramp this thing up.” Rapp sat down on a chair and leaned toward a thin metal box. He opened its lid. “Has anyone come up with any ideas?”

  Emma watched him touch around on it, like they had all been doing with their phones. Another amazement to catalogue in her ever-expanding universe.

  “I found a couple time travel experts,” said Evan. “I want to call and see if someone will believe our story and see us. Hopefully tomorrow.”

  “Excellent,” said Rapp.

  Evan said, “Anybody else?”
/>   “Doppelganger. A mirror image of someone. I don’t know if it will lead anywhere but it seems like maybe we should consider it. Jules and I will take it,” said Niki.

  “Have you fortunetellers here? Someone who can read the future? Or perhaps read my palm?” Emma blushed. “Am I being too forward?”

  “Actually, that’s not a bad idea at all,” said Niki. “We can’t discount anything.”

  “Uncle Jack used to be into all that,” said Rapp. “Horoscopes and tarot cards and stuff. He would know someone. I’m not sure I want to bring him into this, though. What do you guys think?”

  “We need all the help we can get,” said Evan. “I want my sister back. Can he keep a secret?”

  Rapp nodded. “He won’t give anything away. He’s like this old hippie, you know? If I was to ask him to get me some pot, he’d probably go out and try to score me some. That’s just the kind of guy he is. Helpful.” He looked over at Emma. “Not that I do drugs.”

  “Do drugs?” asked Emma, shaking her head.

  Lia said, “You may as well be speaking Russian, Rapp. Your words are just gibberish to her.”

  “Note to self . . .” He tapped his head. “1895. Anyway, Uncle Jack can drive us around if we need rides, since he’s not doing anything else right now. Let’s wait and see if we need him for something. We can keep him as backup.”

  “Emma and I will take the fortuneteller idea,” Lia said. “I’m pretty sure they’re called psychics. We can find out as much as possible first. Maybe we won’t need your uncle.”

  Evan dragged his chair closer, nudging Rapp. “Let’s go. Google ‘time travel.’ Let’s see what we can learn.”

  “Wow. Look at this,” Niki said, reading the laptop’s lid over Rapp’s shoulder. “‘Time travel alters the reality of present, past, and future, upsetting the equilibrium and balance of universal existence. Extreme risks and potential disaster . . .’”

  Evan elbowed her away before she could read anymore and glanced around at Emma. “Geez, Niki, I changed my mind. We already know what time travel is. Let’s just stick with finding people who can help us.”

  BUCK Swan, it was called, and true to its name, the speedboat sped across the smooth-as-glass lake with the power of one thousand reindeer and the grace of a magical swan. Hanging on to a taut rope attached to the end of the boat, Evan, their leader, jumped his wooden board up and through and over the bubbling water, leaving two churning trails of white froth in his wake, sailing and spinning behind them. Emma, in Sonnet’s shorts, T-shirt, and bikini hidden underneath, shrieked with glee over the roar of the engine, as if she, herself, were bouncing over the foamy curls atop Evan’s shoulders.

  After the initial realization and utter shock at the expected attire for the day, Emma had taken the challenge and agreed to it. Years of being browbeaten and banished to her bedroom fell away, and exquisite liberation exploded across her, as powerful as the wind that whipped her hair, as bright as the sun that burnt her cheeks. She had never in her life felt so alive, and she thought she might just jump in the water later with the two pieces of cloth covering only a tiny bit of her body. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she would leave her outer clothes on with the bikini underneath and jump in that way.

  In this new life, she could choose. She could decide for herself. No one would tell her that she was right or she was wrong, or that the color of her clothing clashed with her hair. The notion of free will electrified her, streaming through her body like the power systems generating modern light and machinery.

  Niki’s friend, Sam—a girl!—sat in the driver’s seat and piloted the boat, as strong and capable as any man. Rapp sat in front with her and pointed his face into the wind and into the sun. His long, dark hair covered his face as he cast his attention back at Evan, eager for his turn to be towed. Niki, Jules, Lia, and Emma sat crowded in the back of the loud, vibrating vessel with several nearly naked boys.

  Next to her sat her favorite. Loyal and generous and kind, Lia made her feel safe and loved, no matter how difficult it must have been for her to lose her best friend, Sonnet, and how trying it must be to now contend with her.

  With happy, windy tears in her eyes, Emma mouthed “Thank you” to Lia, the ear-piercing engine making it impossible to talk.

  As long as Emma lived, she would never forget this day.

  This feeling. This freedom. As free as the eagle Emma had watched with envy, from the confines of her old life. And now here she was, as free as that bird.

  Her new friends had captured her heart. And so had this life.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sonnet

  1895

  Feeling trapped, I leaned back against the black tufted cushion and inhaled the leather smell, using the deep breaths to drive out thoughts of Thorn’s overly pleased face at the dinner table the night before.

  The open window framed the Sweetwine mansion as John’s black-and-blue carriage jolted down the hill, hurtling us to the Gold Nugget Hotel for lunch. Pink, yellow, and white painted surfaces stood in contrast to the green trees and brilliant blue sky. The house’s dazzling exterior decorated nothing but a lie. It hid a cold, unhappy interior—much like Thorn, the lady of the house. If it weren’t for Miles, there would never be laughter in that home.

  “Where does the Sweetwine money come from?” I asked John.

  “An odd question, Emma, but I suppose with your advancing age, you are developing a curiosity about such matters.” John folded his arms across his chest and fluttered his fingers on his suit-covered biceps. “Mister John D. Rockefeller, to be exact. He is bankrolling the gold mining operation. Good breeding discourages bragging, Emma, but I am Mister Rockefeller’s first agent and manager of business and mining affairs of Monte Cristo. Money is a private matter, dear girl. We do not discuss personal dealings with anyone outside the family. Remember that.”

  “Mister Rockefeller must like you a lot to trust you with such an important job.”

  John beamed across the carriage at me. A big version of Miles, his neck was squeezed in a tight, stiff collar, and his chiseled face and bright blue eyes made him look like a Viking.

  I turned back to the window and fidgeted, my hands twisting around in my yellow silk lap. A parasol in the same color sat on the bench next to me. I reached over to it and ran my palm across the honeyed softness.

  Hats tipped at us as we wound around Dumas Street through the commercial center on our way down the hill. In front of a backdrop of soaring, cloud-covered mountains, we passed a church, a school, and a post office. Tidy businesses operating out of new wooden buildings ran down the incline beyond horses carrying coarse riders and cargo-piled, horse-drawn wagons.

  The carriage crossed over a railroad track as the road bent downward into another more dubious section of booming Monte Cristo. Saloons and boarding houses butted up to a long wooden boardwalk, where scruffy boys and men leaned against hitching posts and smoked and laughed. Railroad offices, mining companies, and general stores advertised with large painted signs over their buildings. It rolled to a smooth stop in front of the biggest building in town. The brown-uniformed doorman booted a straggly black-and-white dog, causing it to yap and limp away. I wanted to slap his face. Instead, I knifed him with my eyes.

  “Welcome to the Gold Nugget Hotel, Mister Sweetwine. Let me seat you and lovely Miss Emma near the window.” The small man chatted us up in his heavily accented English as he ushered us from the lobby into the dining room. Heavy crystal and silver decked the tables, and gold velvet drapes obscured most of the view out the windows. A candle flickered between us, and smoky oil fumes hung in the air above our heads. I held the menu in front of my face and skimmed the room over the top of it. Well-dressed people filled the tables around us and gawked—taking note of my yellow silk day suit and matching yellow shoes.

  “What would you like, my dear?”

  I sighed, scanning the menu. I wanted French fries and something fresh like a big green salad. “Chicken?”

  �
�Very good. We will both have the chicken cordon blue. And Waldorf salad.” John handed the menus to the waiter. “A glass of sherry for me, iced lemonade for the girl.” He twirled the greasy end of his mustache at me.

  “Dear, I have—”

  “Hello, Miss Emma, Mister Sweetwine. I hope I’m not causing an interruption?”

  More accented English. I turned in my chair and traversed up a male body to his face. Oh, my god! I grabbed at the edge of the table, stopping myself before I could pitch over and slide onto the floor. It was him—the one I had seen flash by on the dark red horse the day of the picnic. My knuckles turned white as I hung on. I was Alice in Wonderland. I had tumbled into the rabbit hole.

  “Miss, how are you this fine day?” He shoved his hat off his head and grinned at me. Dark blond hair revealed the difference. But those were Rapp’s eyes, Rapp’s face.

  John said, “Young Mister Loken. Good to see you. What is it, lad?”

  “I’m sorry for bothering you, sir. I saw your carriage out front and thought to speak to you. I’m done at last with my weeklong commitment at the fairgrounds, and the crew and I are ready to start again on your barn project. I would like to finish the work before the fall snow sets in.”

  “Yes of course. Please tell me where we are in the process.”

  “The old fishing cabin has been demolished and the new framing erected. Finishing the structure can now begin.”

  “As you can see, I’m dining with my daughter, but please come ’round to the office this afternoon. We can discuss the project and timing then.”

  He bowed. “Good day then, sir. I will present myself at your office after three o’clock.”

  I hadn’t moved. Another grin and a long intense stare lit up my cheeks. He made his exit with my eyes still on him, my heart still grinding. Rapp’s body. Rapp’s walk. Through the looking-glass, I had met Rapp Loken’s long-ago relative—it had to be—young Mister Loken.

  I watched through the window as he slapped his hat back on and mounted his horse—strong and tall. His tan face cocked in my direction. Was that a wink? My heart leapt.