Maxwell and I sat together on a settee.
Goodman Abbott disappeared, and I took a deep, steadying breath, trying not to fidget with my new gown.
Maxwell laid his hand over mine. “You needn’t worry, Caroline. God has gone before you as He went before me.”
I instantly felt calm as the truth of his words sank deep into my soul.
A moment later, Goodman Abbott returned with a woman who looked to be in her early sixties. Her gray hair was still thick, and her brown eyes sparkled with life. Even at her age, she appeared to be healthy and active.
And she looked vaguely familiar.
She wiped her hands on her apron and rushed into the room. “Are you Caroline?”
I stood and nodded, and in the next second, I was held in her tight embrace.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as Hope wept. Any worry that she wouldn’t want me vanished.
When she let me go, she held me at arm’s length. “I have so many questions for you—and I’m certain you have questions for me.”
“Are you Hope?” I asked, though I was almost certain she was.
Hope laughed and nodded. “Yes, forgive me. And this is my husband, Isaac.”
“This is Maxwell,” I said, still trying to get used to calling him by his real name.
“Your husband?” Hope asked as she smiled at Maxwell.
He put his arm around my waist and shook his head. “Not yet,” he told Hope. “But very soon.”
“’Tis a long story,” I told Hope. “But I have so many other things I want to ask you.”
“Please, sit. One of our girls will bring a tea tray in momentarily.” Hope and Isaac took the seats across from us as we sat on the settee again.
“My first question,” I said as I clung to Maxwell for support, “is what do you know of Rachel? Was she—” I couldn’t bring myself to say it, but I had no choice. It was the reason I’d come. “Was she a witch?”
“No.” Hope shook her head, fierce determination in her brown eyes. “There were no witches in Salem Village—not then and not now. It was—” She paused and sighed. “It was a tragedy from beginning to end. Rachel was accused of being a witch by my stepmother, Susannah, but that is also a long story. Rachel was raised as a Quaker, though she was living in Salem Towne with Josias Reed.”
“I know all about their relationship,” I confessed to Hope.
“It was partially due to their relationship that Rachel was convicted of witchcraft.” Hope clasped her hands on her lap, sadness in her voice. “I was with Rachel in the gaol when she gave birth to your mother and then died. She asked me to care for your mother, but I had no way to help since I was also being held on the accusation of witchcraft. Josias took your mother, and we never heard from her again.” Hope studied me closely. “But I’ve always wondered—and I hope I’m not speaking out of turn—” She glanced at Maxwell, but then back at me. “Your mother had a birthmark on her chest...”
“Aye,” I said. “The same as me.”
She blinked several times and then leaned forward and said, “The birthmark means you’re a time-crosser, too. Only those who have it cross time. What other time do you occupy, Caroline?”
More tears gathered in my eyes as I said, “Are you a time-crosser, as well?”
“Yes, though I made my final decision many years ago.” She took Isaac’s hand, and they smiled at one another.
“Your final decision?” I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You don’t know?”
“I know nothing about time-crossing.” I said the term carefully, having never heard it before. “Until just a few months ago, I believed I was the only person in the world who had this burden. But then I found my mother’s letter and realized she did, too.”
“’Tis what we feared,” Hope said. “That your mother wouldn’t have a guide. We prayed she would.”
“She knows nothing,” I told her. “She died here on her twenty-first birthday and is now living in 1927.” There was so much to tell Hope about my mother, but it would have to wait. “That’s one of the reasons I’m here. Why did she die on her twenty-first birthday?” I gripped Maxwell’s hand, as if I could keep him with me always. “WillIdie tomorrow, on my birthday?”
