He waited for me to reciprocate. When I didn’t, he finally said, “I became a Pinkerton agent because I like a challenge. I love the thrill of finding clues and putting pieces together. And when the whole picture is complete and I’ve unearthed the hidden secrets, there is nothing more fulfilling or satisfying. Unfortunately, most of the time, the truth is ugly and damaging, revealing the selfishness in a person’s soul. But you are different,” he said in a gentle, tender voice. “When I learn the truth about you, Maggie Wakefield, I know it will reveal something remarkable.”
“What if the truth is too difficult to believe?”
He shook his head, the smile returning to his handsome face. “I don’t think that’s possible. Pure selflessness drives your passion. I don’t know where it comes from or how you possess the knowledge you do, but I will discover the truth. I promise.”
Somehow, I believed if anyone could, it would be Gray.
23
SEPTEMBER 12, 1941
PANAMA CITY, PANAMA
The heat was oppressive as I stood on the quarterdeck of the USSSolace. Stevedores loaded and unloaded cargo from several ships that were docked at the US Naval Station Rodman on the west bank of the Panama Canal. Sunshine streamed down on my neck and shoulders, tanning my skin. Several of the nurses had been given shore leave, including myself. Anna had begged me to go into Panama City with her and the others, but I had chosen not to go. My heart was unsettled, and I wouldn’t be a good companion.
I was torn between the fears and worries about my life in 2001 and the excitement that filled me whenever I thought about standing on Rose’s porch with Gray in 1861. That he was a Pinkerton agent made my estimation of him rise considerably. So many things made sense now, and so many questions were answered. I loved that he had trusted me with the truth.
And when he had stood so close to me on Rose’s porch—my heart sped up just thinking about it. I closed my eyes to thenaval station so I could imagine being near him again. Hearing his voice. Looking into his beautiful brown eyes. Feeling him—
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Zechariah’s voice tore me out of my reverie, and I opened my eyes to find him standing near the railing, several feet away from me. He wore street clothes today, which surprised me, since I’d never seen him without a uniform or surgical attire. His dark trousers were clean and freshly pressed, and the top button of his short-sleeve shirt was undone. He wore a black fedora low on his forehead. The look changed so much about him, making him appear less formidable and more relaxed. Even younger.
Heat climbed up my neck and into my cheeks. Though he didn’t know what I was thinking about, it was still embarrassing for him to find me reveling in the memory of Gray’s attention.
“You’re not interrupting me,” I said as I looked back at the dock. “I was just enjoying the sunshine.” It was partially true.
He leaned on the railing to look out at the landscape. Low-lying hills encircled the bays and peninsulas surrounding Panama City. Beyond the station, the city was a burgeoning metropolis, made more so by the increased presence of US military as President Roosevelt pressured Congress to ramp up operations in the Pacific.
“Aren’t you going into the city today?” Zechariah asked me. “I thought you had shore leave.”
“I do, but I didn’t feel like spending the day with the others.”
He was quiet, and instead of asking me why, he seemed to understand my need for solitude—perhaps because he often needed it himself.
We stood on the quarterdeck for several minutes, not saying a word to one another, as we watched the activity below the ship. I could not think of Gray when Zechariah was near, but my mind still slipped to 2001. It was almost impossible not to think about the Twin Towers, or why I could not remember what happened after I said good-bye to Dorothy.
Panic tried to settle into my heart at the possibilities, so I straightened, needing to do something to stop it from turning into a full-blown attack. It would be a long day if I did not find a way to distract my mind. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to stay on the ship.
“Have you been to Panama City before?” I asked Zechariah.
“Several times. Most recently when I was sent back to Washington, DC, from California. Have you?”
“I haven’t been many places,” I confessed. I rarely traveled in my 2001 path, since the majority of my time was spent on schooling and my parents’ schedules had always been so busy. In 1941, my marked parents had been content to stay in Williamsburg much of the time, with an occasional visit to New York or Washington, DC. I had been to Whitby, England, once, when Teddy came of age and took over Cumberland Hall, his family estate. Ironically, I had traveled the most in my 1861 path, as Papa had moved us to California, then Oregon, and back to Washington, DC. We had gone around the horn of South America to California and back by ship. That journey would have been half the distance if the Panama Canal had been built at the time.
“Casco Viejo is one of my favorite places in Panama City,” Zechariah said. “It’s a charming neighborhood in the oldest part of the city. There is a cathedral there and a beautiful plaza with some of the most charming architecture you will see in the Pacific.”
“It sounds delightful.”
“It’s also very peaceful. I often go there when I am visiting Panama City.”
“Do you plan to go there today?”
He studied me, as if trying to read my thoughts. “I was on my way there when I saw you standing here, alone.”
We had not spoken outside of the operating room since the night of the dance. My actions that evening had sent him a messagethat he had read loud and clear. Zechariah didn’t appear to be the kind of man who would risk rejection, and until now, I wasn’t sure if he’d ever speak to me again. I didn’t want to reject him, yet I couldn’t lead him on either. I cared too much about him to hurt him.
His gaze was hooded and hard to read, so when he spoke, he surprised me. “Would you like to join me?”
