Erin's Rebel (37 page)

Will’s thick, dark hair had been recently trimmed, as had his mustache and chin beard. He was dressed as his father in a black suit, gray vest, and white cravat at his throat.

Once they’d reached him, Zachary put her hand into Will’s. The love in his dark-eyed gaze made her want to cry. It had seemed like centuries ago when she’d first dreamed of this man. But Grandma Rose had been right. Will was her destiny. Her Rebel.

Epilogue

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

December 1865

Erin looked on while Amanda tried to string more popcorn from the bowl the maid, Elsie, brought in from the kitchen. She noted with amusement the child ate more popcorn than she threaded onto the string.

“When’s Papa coming home?” Amanda asked.

“He should be home soon, sweetheart,” Erin said.

“But I want him home now.” Amanda’s blue eyes widened with excitement.

This Christmas Eve was the first since Erin and Will had married. They’d moved to Philadelphia, where Will had obtained a position with a local bank. She’d also found a job with the
Philadelphia Inquirer
. In a weird sort of way, she felt like she’d come home.

They had purchased a town house on Chestnut Street. Will had brought a tree home last night and trimmed it, and the house held the inviting aroma of pine and the cinnamon rolls Elsie had baked late this afternoon. She had a chicken roasting in the oven, and potatoes and assorted vegetables simmering on the stove.

“Momma,” Amanda cried, “it’s ready.”

Erin smiled as the girl proudly displayed her string of popcorn. This was the first time Amanda had called her
Momma
, instead of
Miss
Erin
. A sudden kick to her abdomen brought her attention to the new child growing inside her.

Once her pregnancy grew apparent, she resigned her job at the paper and, at Will’s urging, was now writing fiction. She’d always thought she’d try that someday.

Hey, if Louisa May Alcott could do it, why couldn’t she? This way she could be home to supervise Amanda and, hopefully, once the baby arrived, she’d be able to juggle them and her writing. After all, Elsie did all the housework and cooking. Amanda was now eight, old enough to attend school and help with the new baby.

The sound of the door opening brought a gasp from Amanda. “It’s Papa.”

Will stepped in, covered with snow that had started falling earlier that afternoon. He carried packages wrapped in brown paper and bound with string. He’d never looked more handsome. Amanda danced around him.

“What’s in the wrappers?” she asked.

He looked at Erin helplessly.

“Amanda,” she said, “come here and let your papa get settled.”

The girl reluctantly moved toward her.

Erin pointed to the small wood bench Will had built and painted for his daughter. “Bring your bench over here by me, and I’ll tell you a story.”

“About what?” Amanda pushed the child-sized bench toward the fireplace, beside where Erin sat in a rocking chair.

“About the future...” She nodded at Will, who stealthily crept up the staircase with his bundles.

****

Hours later, after Amanda had been tucked into bed, Erin sat with Will on the settee before the fireplace. Elsie had gone home for the night.

The balsam pine had been adorned with popcorn, red ribbons, and candles set in stands on the ends of some of the branches. The candles made Erin uneasy, but Will assured her he’d personally make sure they were safely snuffed out before they retired for the night.

Jenny and Kevin now had a four-month old son they’d named Thomas. They, along with Will’s parents, planned to visit over the holidays. Erin knew he secretly wanted a little boy, too, although he assured her another little girl would be wonderful. When the baby kicked, she lifted Will’s hand, placing it on her stomach.

“Your son.” She looked into his eyes.

He grinned. “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I just know.”

Frowning, he said, “Is this something you know from the future?”

“No, silly.” She laughed. “We were never together before in my past life. This baby will be a brand new creation. Who knows what he’ll become?”

Will grew quiet, seeming to consider her words. “Do you reckon you’ll be reborn again in the future?”

“That’s quite possible.”

“What about me?”

Erin considered. “I suppose you’ll be reborn in the future, too.”

“But will we find each other there? You didn’t know me in your future life.”

She recalled Mrs. Driscoll’s words. “That’s because our souls weren’t connected before. Now, when we’re reborn, we’ll be able to find one another.”

He frowned. “You’re sure about this?”

“No.” Erin laughed. “Of course not. But,” she said snuggling against him as he reached an arm around her, “we’ve got this life to live first...we’ll worry about any future lives when we get to them.”

He brushed his warm lips against hers. She opened to him, and he deepened the kiss. His kisses continued to be as exciting as the first time he’d kissed her back in camp more than two years ago. The day she’d realized she was trapped in the past and had broken down in tears.

“You always know how to make me feel better,” she murmured against his throat. His pulse beat reassuringly in her ear.

“Are you happy here in this backward century?” he asked. “Or do you miss the life you left?”

She shook her head. “No. There was nothing for me there, just gadgets and conveniences I’ve learned to live without. You’re my world now. And Amanda and...” She patted her stomach. “Our son.”

“I love you, angel.” He kissed her hair.

“And I love you, too...for all my many lifetimes.”

Will rose and snuffed out the candles, then reached for her hand to take her to bed.

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