Wishing Cross Station

Chapter Fifteen

I settled into bed and, by the light of fresh candles, opened the covers of the book again.

At least I felt as though I weren't entirely alone in this anymore. I had an ally in Mr. Best, I was nearly certain of it. Nearly, because I was sure he didn't much like or trust Sutton any more than I did. Still, I hoped he wouldn't go running to Sutton first thing in the morning with the book in his hands, saying I'd stolen it. I was nervous, unsure just how Best felt about me now. I knew he was withholding information from me, and I wondered if that information could be used to my detriment.

Just to be cautious, I decided I had better hide the book somewhere from now on when I left the apartment, in case I was wrong about Best and he was a danger to me, and to Marigold.

Marigold...

I felt so horrible at the thought of her taking physical punishment from her father because she had been kind to me. Sutton knew and saw just about everything that happened at Wishing Cross; he must have known I came in on the Aurelia Belle, meaning I came from the same place as the man who had, if I were right, destroyed his life and his second marriage.

I searched for margin notes, knowing I need not pay much attention to the log itself; it was between the lines this story was told.

I was surprised when I reached the center of the book. Something fell from between the pages and landed in my lap.

It was a small, faded photograph of a uniquely beautiful woman with distinctive features; I'd seen them before.

At first, I thought the photograph must be of Marigold; it was only upon turning it over and seeing the words Aurelia Belle, 1862 inscribed upon it that I realized just how strong a resemblance she bore to the woman who had brought her into the world. The only difference was the mother appeared to have dark eyes, where her daughter's were a bright, crisp blue.

What color, I wondered, were J. Howard Fox's eyes?

I noticed immediately the handwriting in the margins of the book had changed; it no longer matched the script Sutton had been adding up to this point.

This handwriting was neater, easier to read, though even smaller than the notes which preceded it.

For the record, after the fact: An account of the events of November 1861, I read softly, It was then I arrived at Wishing Cross when testing the new locomotive, as yet unnamed. Uncertain what happened, but I was blinded by a flash of light, then I lost consciousness, and when I awoke, I was out of my world...out of my time.

Oh my God, I thought. J. Howard had written these words himself...

No one in town would have anything to do with me, except for the wife of the man set to take over running the Station soon. I had no idea how long I'd be stranded there, out of my rightful place. The engine vanished before my very eyes, and I had no idea when it was coming back...if it were ever coming back.

There were log entries missing from the book now, and instead, all of the words were handwritten upon pages that appeared to have been added. I examined the binding of the book again as closely as I could, and I saw the original stitching, and beside it, another row. It had obviously been rebound at some point, and I had no doubt by whom.

"J. Howard, good God, man..." I whispered, and then my cheeks began to burn red.

The entries in the book that followed were...for want of a better term, detailed.

Continued notes on events of November 1861: So beautiful and sweet was tiny Aurelia Belle; left alone by a husband who, by her own word, had little use for her but to put her to work and bear him more children. Her family was responsible for the match, as she was considered past her prime, unmarried at the age of twenty-two; dangerously close to being labeled 'damaged goods'. I could never see her in such a way.

She was bright, and warm, and welcoming...dear God, so welcoming, her heart cried out to mine, though she spoke not a word to me from it. I knew what I felt, I knew what I wanted, and I didn't know how much a man was supposed to survive, holding back such desire because it may offend both God and man if acted upon.

I didn't know how much longer I could resist telling her how I felt. I had never known such a fire within my heart as she stirred in me.

I turned the page and found an envelope stitched into the binding. The flap on it was unsealed, and there was a piece of paper inside. Dare I open it and look?

I was trespassing in so many ways, but I didn't see how it could be helped. If I were to know the truth about everything, I had to read all there was to read.

I pulled the paper from the envelope and held my breath.

This handwriting was different, still, and decidedly more feminine than any I'd encountered so far.

John, I don't have any right to speak such words to you, but I wanted you to know the flowers were beautiful and spoke to my soul, even as your eyes do.

I do not understand exactly where it is you have come from, but part of me believes you must have descended from Heaven itself, because my existence, so desolate just weeks ago, has been reborn by the light of your eyes.

I hope to see you tonight. We must be careful...indiscretion could mean my very life.

~Aurelia

I closed my eyes. I couldn't stand to read any more that night.

So J. Howard Fox found himself here unintentionally, due to an experiment his engineers and scientists were running as they put the new locomotive into service.

He ended up in Wishing Cross, met and fell in love with another man's wife, and the result of their union was the sweet, quiet girl I couldn't seem to stop thinking about, no matter how hard I tried.

If Aurelia Belle had been half as charming as Marigold...

I found, despite the laws of God and man that condemned J. Howard for what he'd done, in this moment, I couldn't really blame him for wanting to show such a woman, just once in her life, what it felt like to truly be cared for.