Stowaway in Time

was still recuperating and they’d been walking ten hours a day. According to Jesse, they could soon catch the train. They would be in St. Louis within days. “It shouldn’t be hard to find Bryce.”
Jesse brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “We can stop by his store.”
“I don’t think his employees will tell us where he lives.”
Jesse shrugged. “I don’t see why not, but you can always check the city directory.”
“Thanks.” She should have remembered that most cities had directories, an early version of the now nearly extinct white pages. And people probably weren’t as concerned about privacy in the days before stalkers. If there ever really was such a time. The nineteenth century might have its own version. “You wouldn’t know where to find a directory, would you?”
He narrowed his eyes at her and she bit her lip. So much for not rousing his suspicions.
“Try the bookstore.”
“How silly of me.” Heat rose in her cheeks, and she was glad they had reached the other side of the river. He must think I’m an idiot!
Jesse paid their fare and they strode along the road. They walked in silence until Diamond could no longer stand it. “I’ve not been entirely honest with you.”
Jesse raised a brow and handed her an apple. “I’m all ears.”
Diamond took a bite. Could she tell him the truth? Would he believe her? “I need to find Bryce and Anne. That’s true. But I’ve fudged about some other things.”
“You’re not a reporter?”
“No, I am.” She reached for the canteen and took a sip of water. “There’s more to it, and I’d tell you if I could. But I can’t.”
“I don’t want to pry into your life, but I hope this isn’t your way of telling me you’re a Union spy.”
“No. I don’t care who wins this stupid war. But I’m not used to living rough.”
He shot her a glance. “I guessed as much. You can’t build a fire or clean a fish. Your manner of speaking is odd, but you seem well educated. I figured you probably come from money. Maybe running from an unwelcome suitor. Or even a husband.”
“I’m not running from anything. I can fight my own battles.” Could she? Back home, maybe, but not here. “I’m just out of my league.”
“We all are with this war going on. I don’t see how you can remain neutral. It’s ugly in Missouri with guerrilla warfare besides the regular troops.”
Diamond finished her apple and tossed the core aside.
“Why can’t I just escort you home instead of going after Poole?”
“They have something I need.” Despite her aching muscles, she picked up the pace. Jesse matched her stride. She was above average height for a woman in the twenty-first century. Jesse, no doubt, thought her a giant. He only topped her by an inch or two.
“Slow down. I’m barely out of my sickbed.”
“Sorry.” She slowed and glanced his way. He didn’t appear to be struggling, and she had the strangest feeling he’d spoken up for her, not himself. She’d never encountered a chivalrous gentleman in the twenty-first century, but perhaps they still existed in the nineteenth.
They caught the train in Charleston and took it west. There was no direct route from there to St. Louis, so they had to travel out of their way for a while before switching lines and heading northeast.
Train travel during the Civil War was both grittier and fancier than what Diamond had experienced in her own time. Smoke billowed out of the stacks, coating everything with a layer of dust, but the travelers dressed up and the seats were plush and comfortable. Jesse took her to the dining car for dinner and it rivaled a nice restaurant.
Some passengers eyed her askance and for the first time, Diamond felt out of place in her sweatshirt and jeans. All the other women wore long dresses, most with wide skirts and bouncy hoops, like they’d just stepped out of the set of Gone with the Wind. Not only was she under-dressed, but she’d been wearing the same clothes for over a week.
“It might be expensive, but I really need some new clothes. No butler worth his salt will let me in to see Bryce dressed like this.”
“We will find you something more suitable in St. Louis, although I think I’ll miss your trousers.”
Diamond cocked her head to the side. “You don’t find them scandalous?”
“Perhaps at first, but I have to admit they’re more practical than hoop skirts for long marches.”
Diamond suspected she would miss her comfortable clothes, too, but she was happy to relax on the train while the miles churned beneath them, the cars gently rocking as they clattered over the rails. She would never take her car for granted again.
After dinner, they returned to their seats. Jesse fell asleep, his head resting against her shoulder, but worries kept Diamond awake. Now that her goal was in sight, the details needled her. If Bryce was a wealthy and influential man would she be able to get in to see him? Worst of all, what if he refused to send her home?
* * *
St. Louis looked nothing like it did in the twenty-first century. No arch, no highways, no cluster of bridges leading to Illinois. Diamond stepped off the train into the small depot. The grand Union Station, which was a struggling shopping complex in her time, did not yet exist.
She watched the other passengers spill off the train, wrestling luggage and small children. Women outnumbered the men, although there were some men in uniform and others in business attire. Jesse had packed away his Confederate grays and wore dark trousers and a plaid shirt. People continued to stare but appeared to believe they were husband and wife, or perhaps a brother and sister. Men and women couldn’t respectably travel together unless they were related.
“What now?” she asked Jesse.
“We find a hotel, get cleaned up and buy you a dress.”
“Sounds like heaven.” She followed Jesse onto the cobblestone streets. Horse-drawn carriages and wagons filled