She must've been an angel, for she gifted Verity the adventure of a lifetime. She experienced the future and so many wonderful inventions. Plus, there was Mathew. She figured his attitude toward their copulation was a product of his time, but his insensitivity stung too much. And now there was no use in dwelling on her decision.
The back door opened, and Graham shoved the heavy winter door closed. "Good luck." Graham snickered and shook his head, dashing upstairs.
"Who are you talking to?" Jonathan said to Graham.
Verity sucked in a breath. Here comes the wrath. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited by the fire while heavy footsteps creaked across the room. She could survive this. She had many times before. Besides, she wasn't staying, anyway. No matter how upset he would be, Verity would pack and leave on the morrow, winter be damned. She squared her shoulders and faced her big brother.
"Verity?" His familiar deep voice was softer than she'd expected.
"It's me."
His face came into the light, stern and serious, but not angry. His eyes shifted from her curled hair to her disheveled blanket and bare legs and bare feet. She released her fancy high heels, setting them down on the coffee table with a light clatter. She'd expected a shotgun in her face, but his hands were empty.
"Where have you been?" His voice was soft, concerned, and with a hint of sadness. He missed her. He actually cared. Under that gruff surface was a gentle soul. Who would have thought?
"It's a long story." She chuckled as her memory flashed through all the events of her time traveling adventure. Jonathan wrapped her into a bear hug and squeezed. Verity fished her arms out of the layers of Ben's blanket and gave her brother a hug in return.
"Sit down, I'll make you some coffee. You're frigid."
Verity shivered and sat down. Jonathan brought her a steaming mug. She opened the blanket to accept it from him, but the rough fabric fell off her shoulders, revealing her fancy plum dress.
His face curled into anger. "Where did you get that?"
Here we go. But Verity couldn't muster the energy for a fight. Her limbs were stiff from the cold and after leaving Mathew behind, she was drained. "Where I spent the last six months. You wouldn't believe the tale if I told it."
"Tell me."
Verity didn't see why not. She'd be labeled as a silly woman and sent to her room. Fine. She looked forward to her bed, and she needed to pack.
"I was brought to the future by that man who was here. You remember Mathew McCall?"
"I remember he dressed odd. And what kind of man doesn't carry a weapon?"
"That's what you said then." The corner of her lips tugged into a smile. "Jaime Perez showed up. I hid while Matt went to find you, not knowing the danger. Jaime dragged me from the cubbyhole before Matt could alert you." Verity sipped from the mug, relishing in the hot liquid filling her belly. "Matt freed me from Jaime's grasp and brought me to the future before Jaime's rounds hit us. I'd be dead if it weren't for him."
"I believe all of that—except for the future part. What happened to your hair, and where were you really?"
Verity sighed. She stood up, put her heels back on and spun. "Matt brought me to a boutique where I bought this. They have dozens and dozens of gowns fancier than this. You should see the bead work on the bridal gowns. They're stunning. And my hair is curled with a curling iron. Fancy, huh?" Her palm patted the bottom of her ringlets to show the bounce.
"You bought that dress? With what money?"
She smiled, recounting the exciting future pulsed energy back through her stiff veins. "With money I made at work."
His eyes hardened. "What kind of work?"
"A veterinary clinic. I checked in clients and patients, scheduled appointments, cashiered purchases, and later I swiped credit cards for billing." She had a smug smile on her face knowing her brother had no clue what the hell she'd just said.
"I—I, uh…" He scratched the back of his head, and Verity delighted in his discomfort. He added, "Prove it."
Verity had one piece of proof on her. She dug in the dress pockets for her remaining cash after the dress purchase. She unfolded a bill and held it out to him. "What year is on the bill?"
Jonathan accepted it and tilted it into the light of the fire. He squinted, turned it over and back again, and grunted. "It's fake."
"It's not fake. My dress, my shoes, my money are all from the future. I'm not kidding. I've seen things you couldn't even imagine. Airplanes take several carriages' worth of people in one ride and they fly. You can cross the ocean in hours instead of months. Cars run on gas and drive on paved roads. You can get to Chicago from here in three hours. Dial a number in the palm of your hand and talk to anyone in the world instantly, and if you call the right place, they will bring hot steaming food to your door!"
Jonathan stared at her skeptically, but he had to believe her. She didn't have that kind of imagination. "I went to a place called an amusement park. There're rides and games and food. The rides soar high in the air and rip faster than any horse can carry you. It's thrilling." She stopped and waited.
"How did you get back here?"
Verity took a deep breath. "A woman—an angel—sent me back when I requested it."
"You were gone six months."
"It was only about nine days in the future. Time isn't the same on both sides."
He handed the bill back to her and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You've always wanted out of here. Why did you come back?"
His words squeezed her throat. She didn't expect her brother to want her gone. He was always so protective and, well, controlling, but he had his reasons. Why had she come back? It was a knee-jerk decision when the angel asked her. She was upset with Mathew for rejecting her, for deciding she was worthy of the sheets but not the home. "I have my reasons."
"Are you staying?"
"No. I'm going to pack up and head out."
"Where?"
"West. I'll make my mark in San Francisco. I'll open a saloon right next to the rush of gold miners."
Jonathan's eyes glistened in the firelight. He stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. "If I can't convince you to stay, then good luck to you. Be safe and be well. I love you, sis."
Verity's eyes clouded over in her own tears. "I love you too, Johnny."
Chapter Eighteen
Bridgeport, Wisconsin
1853
MATHEW CLOSED HIS EYES through the nausea and dizziness of the travel, and upon reopening them, it was late afternoon. A cold wind pierced his thin dress shirt. He fastened the top button at his throat in a useless attempt at extra warmth. Stringy clusters of snow stuck to ridges in the ground. Bent, dead grasses surrounded him in a field. What in the world?
Northwest was a scattering of two-story buildings, and everywhere else was trees and fields. Mathew trudged through the bent and frozen grasses until he reached what he assumed to be a road—a wide dirt path with ruts from thin wheels and a dusting of snow at the low points. Flipping up the collar of his wholly inadequate dress shirt, he braced himself against the cold and set off at a brisk pace to keep warm, clouds bursting from his lips.