Hearts Through Time Read online

  He slowed the car, then pulled to the side of the road and stopped. He turned and faced her. “You’re very fascinating, Cassandra, and I would like to hear more.”

  She traced the outline of his lips with her finger. “It’s good to know that I have something you want.”

  He fisted his hands to keep from grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “I’m getting the impression you aren’t going to tell me unless I give you something first.”

  Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps.”

  He would never do that. Going with his first instinct, he gripped her shoulders, but then stopped himself before shaking her. Instead, he yanked her against him as he brought his mouth close to hers. “I think you should know, I don’t like to be toyed with,” he said. “I’m not one of your young beaus who will bend to your every whim.”

  She stared at his lips. “Oh, I like a man who is in control.”

  “I’m serious, Cassandra. You can’t tease me like you do your other gentleman friends.”

  Slowly, she pulled away. “Who said I’m teasing?” She shrugged. “If you want something from me, then you’ll have to give me something in return.”

  “Fine.” He opened the car door and stepped out. “I believe this is where your journey ends.”

  She gasped. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.” He glared at her. “Now get out.”

  “Oh!” She scooted to the edge of the seat and stepped onto the pavement. When she stood in front of him, she slapped his face. “You are certainly no gentleman, Nick, and I’m sorry I even asked for a ride.”

  “Not as sorry as I am.” He reached in the back seat and handed her the grocery bag. “Good day, Miss Cassandra.”

  As he drove away, Nick wished he’d gotten more information out of her. He’d narrowed it down to Anthony, and now it was clear that Cassandra was involved with Abby’s murder. At the very least, she sounded like she knew Anthony planned to kill Abby. Maybe Cassandra had even asked him to do so. Nick had two days to stop the murder from happening.

  If Harry proposed to Abby, Nick would know the timeline hadn’t been interrupted. He hoped it had, and that his presence in the past had made a difference.

  Twenty-Five

  Abigail sat behind her father’s desk and read over the legal papers, the will, and everything else that had bearing on her and the newspaper. Since her talk with Nick, she had decided to sell the business, and she felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. However, she needed to put things into action without upsetting Harry.

  She walked around the desk to the door and into the hallway. She saw Harry standing with a few other men outside one of the offices, and she motioned him over. Harry didn’t appear overjoyed to see her, so she assumed he was still hurt or embarrassed that she’d rejected his marriage proposal the day before.

  “Is there something you need?” he grumbled.

  “Yes, Harry. I’d like to talk to you. I’ve come to a decision and I think we should discuss it.”

  He nodded and walked into Abigail’s office. Once she was sitting behind the desk, she smiled. “I have been doing some serious thinking since our talk yesterday.”

  “What have you decided?”

  “I want to sell the newspaper to you.”

  His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

  “You were right,” she continued. “I cannot run a newspaper, but the plain and simple truth is, I don’t want to.”

  Harry shook his head. “You don’t?”

  “No. This was my father’s dream, not mine. So, in light of all of this, I’ve decided to sell it to you. Name your price, and I’ll decide if it’s something we can work out.”

  He walked around the desk and knelt by her side, taking her hand in his. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “Yes, I do. I don’t want the burden, Harry. You deserve this newspaper. You worked beside my father for so many years, and you were his best friend. This place means everything to you—I can tell that.” She stroked his hand affectionately. “I have but one request.”

  “What is that?”

  “That you hire my uncle.”

  Harry scowled and jumped to his feet. “Why on earth would you want me to hire Alexander?”

  Abigail chuckled. “Did you work with my uncle when he was here before?”

  “When I hired on, your uncle was still here, and we worked together for several months.”

  “Do you remember what kind of worker he was? Was he responsible? Dedicated?”

  Harry frowned and stared at the floor, and Abigail assumed he was trying to remember.

  Finally, he raised his head and nodded. “I believe he was.”

  “My uncle has fallen on hard times, and I think he’ll want to come back to the paper and work. I’m not going to make him partner or anything. That will be your decision as owner.” Harry nodded. “Why the change of heart?”

  “I was kept in the dark about the real reason my father and Uncle Alexander parted ways.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “Now I’m wondering if you know the real story as well.”

  Slowly, Harry nodded. “I do.”

  “So you know what kind of woman my aunt was.”

  “Yes. She was very beautiful back in those days. She could tempt any man, but it seemed she had her eye on your father. Everyone at the newspaper knew it. She came almost every day to flaunt her new dress or new hat in front of him. She had your father targeted from the beginning. Did you know she was in love with him before he married your mother?”

  Abigail shook her head.

  “She only married your uncle after your father and mother were married,” Harry explained. “I truly believe she only married Alexander to get close to Edward. I agreed with your father’s decision to buy out Alexander’s shares. It wasn’t good to have a woman like that around Edward.”

  “Then will you consider bringing my uncle back?” Abigail asked.

  “What about the threat he made against you the other day?”

  She sighed heavily and sank back in the chair. “I think he’s desperate. He’s out of funds, and bill collectors are after him. I think he just needs a good job and to start believing in himself again. I want to give him a chance for a decent life.”

  Harry smiled and knelt beside Abigail again. “You are a very kind and forgiving woman. I promise to consider Alexander. In fact, would you like me to go to his house and talk to him?”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all.” He embraced her and then stood. “Well, I’ll be off, then. I have to visit the bank to see about a loan, and then visit your uncle.”

  “Thank you, Harry. You know I’ll always love you.”

  He smiled. “Yes, I know, just as I’ll always love you—like a sister.”

  After he left, Abigail sighed. She wanted to find out how Nick could take the state bar exam again so he could obtain his license to practice law in California. His license from the twentyfirst century wouldn’t do him any good in 1912, and she knew he wouldn’t be happy unless he could practice law.

  So far the morning had gone well. Harry had contacted Alexander about working for the paper again, and Abigail’s uncle was elated. Alexander visited her in the office and apologized for his threat. When he left, they were both smiling.

  Now the smile was permanently affixed on Abigail’s face as she walked toward the parking lot, where Hudson waited to drive her home for lunch. Abigail noticed a woman walking up the sidewalk. Soon she recognized Mrs. Downey, whom she didn’t know well but who didn’t have a respectable reputation, especially since her husband had died.

  The older woman narrowed her gaze on Abigail and stepped in front of her, bringing her to a halt before she reached the parking lot.

  “Excuse me, Miss Carlisle,” she said in a demanding tone. “Yes. Can I help you?”

  “I need to discuss something of a personal nature with you, if you don’t mind.”

  Abigail frowned.
“What exactly is it about?”

  Mrs. Downey glanced around them as if looking for someone, then met her gaze again.

  “It’s about the new man in your life, Mr. Marshal.”

  Abigail’s throat tightened. “What about him?”

  “Well, I wanted to save you from being used, like I was.”

  She arched her eyebrows. “Used?”

  “Yes. Mr. Marshal takes advantage of women until he gets what he wants, and then he moves on.”

  She lifted her chin.

  “Before you, he was seeing me.”

  Abigail inhaled sharply. “He was?”

  “Yes. He sweet-talked and charmed me until I gave him my dead husband’s best suits. Then Mr. Marshal walked out of my life to find another woman to use.”

  She placed her hand on Abigail’s arm.

  “I wanted to save you from being hurt.”

  For a brief moment, Abigail wondered if she should believe this woman. No. She knew Nick wouldn’t do this. Mrs. Downey was lying.

  Exhaling deeply, Abigail nodded. “I appreciate your concern for me, Mrs. Downey.” She forced herself to smile. “Do you need to be reimbursed for those clothes?”

  The woman shrugged. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt. They did cost my husband a lot of money before he died.”

  So Mrs. Downey wanted money. Abigail was used to people like that. “Then I’ll have my secretary bring you some cash tonight.”

  “You are most kind.”

  A wide smile stretched across Mrs. Downey’s face. “I must say, you’re nothing like I had expected.”

  “Oh, really? What had you expected?”

  “Well, forgive me for saying, but rumors have it that you are a very cold-hearted young woman. People say that your father kept you so protected that you are afraid of your own shadow.”

  “I’m happy to announce those rumors are false,” Abigail said cheerfully. “I’ll have you know, I’ve seen my shadow many times, and I was never frightened.”

  The other woman blurted out a laugh. “Oh, how humorous you are. It’s very hard to believe you are Edward Carlisle’s daughter.”

  “Why do you say that? What was wrong with my father?”

  “Oh, I’m certain he was a wonderful businessman, but he didn’t make a very good role model for you with all those torrid affairs he had after your mother died.”

  Abigail felt as if all the blood had left her head, and she could barely stay upright.

  “M–my father’s affairs? I’m sure I don’t

  know what you mean.”

  Mrs. Downey waved a hand in the air. “Oh, I don’t know how many he had, but I know he sired another child. And the worst part of it all was that he paid for the mother’s silence. When his child became of age, he sent her to a girl’s school in another state. New York, I believe it was.”

  Tears stung Abigail’s eyes, but she managed to hold them back.

  “That is not true, Mrs. Downey. I am my father’s only child.”

  The older woman shook her head, wearing a knowing grin.

  “I’m afraid not. You see, your half-sister is one of my good friends. She looks remarkably like your father, too.”

  Abigail took a step back. “That’s ridiculous. If my father had another child, he would have told me. I don’t know why you’re lying.” She stumbled past the other woman, walking toward her motorcar, where Hudson stood waiting. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m late for an appointment. Good day, Mrs. Downey.”

  Abigail’s head pounded with every step she took. When she slid in the car and Hudson closed the door, she buried her face in her hands.

  That bitter and greedy woman was wrong! Yet, in the back of her mind, Abigail started to wonder. Her father had kept secrets from her, probably wanting to keep her innocent and naive. Hadn’t she just found out about Uncle Alexander and their fight? There was another secret he’d kept. Nick had mentioned that Lily had been in love with her father. Was Lily one of his affairs?

  Worse, would her father have a daughter and not claim her? Edward was a loving man, a man who had spoiled Abigail beyond reason. So if he loved her so much, wouldn’t he have also loved any other children he had, whether or not they were illegitimate?

  It wasn’t until she noticed her palms were wet that Abigail realized she’d been crying. She straightened in her seat and dried her hands on her dress before wiping away her tears.

  Mrs. Downey didn’t know what she was talking about. Obviously, Nick had borrowed the suit from her so he wouldn’t stand out as he walked around town. Mrs. Downey was probably just upset because he never returned to pay for the clothes.

  With the woman’s reputation for behaving immorally, Abigail understood why Nick would avoid her. But what about the horrible things that Mrs. Downey said about Abigail’s father? How could she find out if they were true?

  She looked up at Hudson. He glanced at her through the rearview mirror, a frown on his wrinkled face.

  “Are you all right, Miss Abigail?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not quite certain at this moment.”

  She swallowed hard. “Hudson, would you be honest with me if I asked you a question about my father?”

  The driver’s eyes widened and his face went pale.

  “Hudson, I mean it. I need to hear the truth from someone I trust.”

  He bit his lip but nodded.

  “Did—did my father have other children besides me? Did he pay their mothers off to keep them silent?”

  Hudson stared at the road.

  “Yes, miss.”

  His answer was so soft that Abigail hoped she hadn’t heard him right. But she had, and she knew he was telling the truth.

  Tears filled her eyes again.

  “How many children did he have?”

  “I only know of one, miss.”

  “But you think there could have been more?”

  “Possibly.”

  She laid her head back on the seat as they drove on in silence.

  If Mrs. Downey had told her the truth about her father, the older woman must be right about Nick. Maybe he wasn’t the man Abigail thought he was either. Obviously, she hadn’t been a good judge of character.

  When they reached the house, she hurried straight to her room and fell upon her bed, crying out the tears she’d wanted to keep inside. Her world had been turned completely upside down in the space of a few minutes. She’d felt so blessed when she’d left the office, like nothing could go wrong. But now everything had.

  Abigail moved off the bed and rushed to her vanity, ripping off her bonnet and pulling the pins out of her hair. She hated her father—hated the fact that he’d never been around when she had needed him. She hated that the only time she’d been able to get his attention was when she’d acted interested in the newspaper. Her father had wanted to keep her young and innocent for so long. Then Nick came into her life and tore it apart in a whole different way. He made her believe she was worth something. He made her believe her life had meaning. She felt complete because of him. That was probably a lie too.

  Suddenly, her stomach churned and she rushed into the bathroom. She emptied her stomach in the toilet, then sank back on her heels as she wiped her face. From inside her room, she heard something fall to the floor. Abigail listened closely and heard the creak of footsteps.

  “Who’s there?” she called out. “Lily, is that you?” Someone ran out of her room. Abigail stood and struggled to run after him or her. “Stop! Who are you and what are you doing here?”

  Abigail forced her trembling legs to move and hurried out into the hall. The person, dressed all in black, was already down the stairs, running toward the front door.

  “Stop!” Abigail screamed, but by the time she reached the open door and looked out, the intruder was gone.

  “What on earth is the matter?” Lily asked, bustling out of the kitchen.

  Abigail turned toward her. “I don’t know. Someone was in my room, but they ran out. I—I couldn’t catch them. I�
��I don’t know who it was.”

  Lily gave her a pitiful frown and stroked her cheek. “Now, now, my dear. I think your mind is playing tricks on you again.”

  Anger coursed through Abigail, and she pushed her maid’s hand away. “Stop it! Stop treating me like I’m an imbecile. I’m not! I know my mind, and I am in complete control. There was someone in my room, just like I know someone keeps taking my personal items and hiding them.”

  Lily’s eyes widened. “Oh, my dear. You are out of sorts. Perhaps you should retire to you room. I’ll bring up some warm milk and—”

  “Did you not hear a word I said?” Abigail pushed past her, heading outside toward the car. Hudson was ready for her and opened the door.

  “Take me back to the office,” she ordered as she climbed in. “Are you certain, miss? You don’t look—”

  “Hudson, please don’t argue with me! I know my mind, and my mind is telling me to go back to the office.”

  By the time he let her out in front of the building, Abigail’s jaw hurt from clenching it for so long, and her palms held imprints of the fingernails she’d dug into them. She marched inside and headed for her office. When she passed Harry’s right-hand man, Todd, she glared at him. “I’m going in my office, and I do not want to be disturbed. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Miss Abigail.”

  She slammed the door so hard it rattled the window. Then she sat behind the desk and threaded her fingers through her hair. When she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, the locket on her neck clanked on the edge of the desk. She removed the necklace and stared at the locket. Her grandmother had told her this would bring her heart’s deepest desire, but Abigail didn’t believe it anymore.

  She opened the heart-shaped necklace and looked at the photographs of her parents. Why did her mother have to die so young and leave this man to raise their only daughter? He had never thought of anybody but himself, and he definitely hadn’t deserved her mother. Abigail carefully removed her mother’s picture and placed it in her wrist purse.

  Abigail wanted to forget everything so she wouldn’t have to feel this agony. She didn’t want to care that her father had lied to her all of her life, and she especially didn’t want to care that Nick was lying to her too.