September Sky (American Journey Book 1) (14 page)

"Well done, my love. Be sure to let me know if this Mr. Townsend asks any more questions about me or the company."

Rose gave Wyatt a serious glance.

"You know I will."

Wyatt leaned to his side and kissed Rose. He kissed her not like a woman he wanted simply to pleasure but rather like a woman he wanted to marry. He did not relent until he sensed that the woman was ready for a change.

A moment later, Rose moved out of Wyatt's grasp, climbed on his lap, and turned to face her lover. When she looked at him again, she did so with lively, mischievous eyes.

Wyatt chuckled.

"I know that look, Rose. It means trouble."

Rose sighed.

"Yes, it does."

Without breaking eye contact, Rose reached to the side of the bed and retrieved two white handkerchiefs. She used the first to tie Wyatt's left wrist to a post and the second to tie his right. When she was done with her handiwork, she kissed him gently on the lips.

Wyatt raised a brow.

"What do you think you're doing, Miss O'Malley?"

"Why, I think it should be obvious, Mr. Fitzpatrick."

Rose flashed a devilish grin.

"I'm doing to you what you usually do to me."

CHAPTER 21: JUSTIN

Wednesday, May 2, 1900

Sitting on the sweeping front steps of the Texas Maritime Library, Justin Townsend thought about several things. He thought about the strange but increasingly familiar world of 1900, his father's new "friendship" with Charlotte Emerson, and people he knew and missed. Mostly, however, he thought about the library assistant who had said no more than a dozen words to him since their enlightening lunch the week before.

He had hoped that the encounter might lead to another and maybe something more, but it had not. Each time he had tried to speak to Emily Beck, he had found her "busy" or "in a hurry" or on her way to "another place."

Opting to leave rather than wait for his father, Justin stood up, brushed off his pants, and walked down the steps. He proceeded to the sidewalk, stopped, and debated whether to walk or ride the trolley to his new beach-shack home on Eighth Street and Avenue M. He needed only one glance at the blue sky above to decide it was a good day to walk.

Justin moved toward the street but stopped when he heard the click of the library door. He turned around and saw Emily exit the building and descend the steps. He spoke to her when she reached the sidewalk.

"Are you going home?" Justin asked.

"I am," Emily said. "I'm leaving now."

She threw a red shawl over her shoulders. The shawl complemented a crisp white blouse and a red, ankle-length skirt that stood out in a drab world of blacks and grays.

"Where do you live?"

"I live on the corner of Tenth and M, near the beach. Not that it's any of your business."

"Oh," Justin said. He laughed to himself. He could see that this conversation, like all of the others, was going nowhere. "Do you walk or take the trolley?"

"I usually take the trolley, but today I plan to walk."

"Would you like some company?" Justin asked. "I'm headed in that direction."

Emily looked at Justin suspiciously and shook her head.

"No, thank you. I'd prefer to walk alone."

Ouch.

"OK then," Justin said. "Have a nice evening."

Emily acknowledged his words with a nod and then started on her way. She moved down the Strand like she had things to do, people to see, and no time to waste.

Justin guessed that she wouldn't stop for anything – not for people, not for vehicles, and certainly not for an aimless, loitering time traveler. Then two loud whistles pierced the air and the woman who wouldn't stop for anything stopped on a dime.

Justin turned to face the source of the noise and saw two shabbily dressed men on the other side of the street. Even from fifty feet away he could see that their intentions were less than noble. Each sized up Little Red Riding Hood like a tasty snack. Both invited her to walk across the street and relieve them of their loneliness.

When Justin shifted his attention to Emily, he saw that she was reluctant to proceed. He watched with interest and considerable amusement as she spun around and returned to the library with her hat in her hand.

"I've reconsidered your offer, Mr. Townsend," Emily said solemnly. "I would love to have your company."

Justin held back a grin. While he was sorry to see the fear in Emily's eyes, he was not at all sorry to see the humility. He smiled empathetically and extended an elbow, which she grabbed quickly. A moment later, the two moved arm-in-arm toward the eastern edge of the city.

"I apologize for being so unfriendly this week," Emily said. "I'm sure you're a nice man. I just didn't want to give you any false impressions."

"I understand," Justin said. "For what it's worth, I really am a nice guy. I don't lie or cheat or use or abuse, and I haven't treated women like chattel in more than a year."

Emily gave Justin a sidelong glance and smiled.

"You're making fun of me again."

"I have no choice," Justin said. "I want to see you smile. You have a pretty smile."

Emily turned red.

"My mother warned me about men like you."

"What do you mean?"

"She said, 'Beware of men who make you smile. They will steal your heart and maybe a few other things.'"

Justin chuckled.

"She really said that?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll try not to make you smile," Justin said. "I don't want to steal anything, except maybe a little of your time."

Emily brightened.

"OK."

Justin smiled and shook his head. He didn't know how Emily had gone from cold, callous, and defiant to warm, sensitive, and apologetic in a matter of minutes, but she had. He liked this person next to him and wanted to keep her around.

As they walked east on the Strand and then south on Tenth, they passed several interesting buildings, including one Emily identified as "Old Red." A tribute to Romanesque Revival architecture, the brick-and-sandstone colossus was the medical school of the University of Texas.

Justin thought about another university in another state as they left the Galveston campus and picked up the pace. He didn't regret taking a break from school, but he knew that the break could not be permanent. He would eventually have to find his purpose in life and obtain the education to achieve it.

For now, though, Justin was content simply to chill out on the Texas coast and walk beautiful women from their workplaces to their homes. He turned to Emily and shifted the conversation from buildings to people.

"You mentioned your mother, the one who warned you about men like me," Justin said. "Tell me about the rest of your family. Do you have any siblings?"

Emily glanced briefly at Justin, as if to guess his motive for asking the question, and then returned her eyes to the sidewalk ahead.

"I have one sibling, a sister named Anna. She's eight years old and a firecracker."

"Eight? Wow. That's a pretty big age difference."

Emily gave him a harsher glance.

"Not that you look old or anything," Justin said. "I mean …"

"I know what you mean," Emily said. "I get comments like that all the time. The simple truth of the matter is that Anna was something of a surprise. After I was born, doctors told my parents that they would not be able to have any more children. As with many things, however, they got it wrong."

"You're happy to have a sibling though, right? I mean you
like
your sister."

"I adore her."

"What about your dad?" Justin asked. "Tell me about him."

"My father is Max Beck. He owns and operates Beck Atlantic."

"You mean the passenger-shipping line?"

Emily nodded.

"That's the one."

"I've seen its ads in the paper," Justin said. "It sure likes Mexico."

"It should. It can't go anywhere else."

Justin looked at Emily with puzzled eyes.

"What do you mean? Can't your father expand to Cuba or Florida or someplace like that?"

"No," Emily said. "The other lines have exclusive arrangements with the major ports."

Justin thought about that for a moment and then returned to Emily.

"I take it your father knows the Fitzpatrick brothers."

Emily stared at Justin.

"
Everyone
knows the Fitzpatrick brothers."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Justin said.

"It's not good or bad. It's just the way it is."

"Does your father like them?"

"He likes the one who agrees with his business objectives," Emily said matter-of-factly. "He doesn't like the one who doesn't."

Justin considered a follow-up question but decided against it. He would find out soon enough which brother gave Max Beck fits and, when he did, he would report that tidbit to his father.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"I suppose," Emily said.

"Do you get along with your dad?"

Emily looked away.

"I respect my father."

"That's not what I asked."

Emily sighed.

"My father has different views than me. He believes women should marry early, have children, and take care of their families. He doesn't believe they should go to college and expand their minds, much less go to college and train to be doctors."

"You want to be a doctor?" Justin asked.

"I've wanted to be a doctor since I was ten."

"That explains your interest in Old Red."

"There are days when I can't bear to even look at that place. It's painful to know that my dream is so close and yet so far away."

A few minutes later, Emily stopped in front of a three-story mansion at the end of Tenth Street. With ornate trim, dormers, and large paned windows, the residence was a tribute to Victorian excess and the jewel of the neighborhood.

"This is my house," Emily said. "Thank you for walking me home."

She released her hold on Justin's arm.

"You're welcome."

Justin glanced at a first-floor window and noticed a woman looking out of it. He could tell by her attractive features that she was Emily's mother.

"I should go," Emily said.

"OK. Before you leave, though, can I ask you one more question?"

"I guess."

"If you want to attend medical school so badly, then why don't you do it?" Justin asked. "You're an adult. You can do anything you want."

"You really aren't from around here, are you?"

"I mean it," Justin said. "That's the beauty of this country. People can pursue their goals or take a breather and set new ones. That's what I'm doing. I took premed classes for almost three years. Then I woke up one day and decided I didn't really want to be a doctor. So I quit college to think things over. I know now that it's only a matter of time before I find a new path."

Justin hoped that his words would soothe and inspire. Instead, they irritated and inflamed. When he looked at the face of Emily Beck, he saw the picture of rage.

"You had a chance to be a doctor and walked
away
?"

"That's right."

"I can't believe you did that," Emily said. "No one in their right mind does that."

Justin reached for her arm.

"Don't touch me! Get away from me!"

Justin sighed as Emily glared at him with eyes he hadn't seen since their contentious encounter at the café. He started to defend his surprisingly indefensible decisions when he saw a woman push open a door and quickly exit the house.

"Is everything all right, Emily? I thought I heard shouting."

"Everything is fine, Mama."

"Mama" passed through the front gate and approached Justin and Emily.

"Who is this man?"

"This is Justin Townsend," Emily said. "He walked me home from the library."

The mother bear treated Justin like he was a clear and present danger. She got in his face, looked him in the eyes, and stared at him until he finally turned away. Then just as quickly she dropped her guard and shifted from cool to cordial. She stepped back, smiled warmly, and extended a hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Justin. I'm Isabella Beck, Emily's mother."

Justin took the hand.

"It's a pleasure, Mrs. Beck."

"I detect an accent," Isabella said. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from California."

"California? Oh, my! You're a long way from home."

"I sure am," Justin said as he pondered the understatement of the year. He wondered what Isabella would think if he told her just
how
far he had traveled.

"Did you come here with family?"

Justin nodded.

"I came here with my father. He's gathering information for a book he plans to write on Galveston and the shipping industry. I help him with his research."

"That sounds interesting," Isabella said.

"It is, for the most part.

"How long have you been here?"

"We've been here about a week and a half," Justin said. He shot Emily a pointed glance. "We arrived the day the statue was dedicated."

Isabella turned to face Emily.

"Why have you never mentioned this man?"

"I haven't mentioned him because I didn't think he was important," Emily said. "He's just a person who loiters at the library."

Justin sighed.

Demoted again.

"No one is
just
a person, Emily. Everyone is special in some way."

Emily glared at her mother. When she didn't get the reaction she apparently sought, she huffed, shook her head, and looked away.

"Please excuse my daughter's manners," Isabella said. "I'm sure she thinks of you as more than 'a person' or she would not have allowed you to walk her home."

"I'm sure you're right, ma'am."

Isabella glanced at Emily and then turned back to Justin.

"I'm sure you have seen and done much since you arrived. What do you think of our fair little community?"

"I love it," Justin said. "I love everything about it. I love the beaches, the restaurants, the weather, and the people. The people here are the friendliest I've ever met."