For a Lifetime by Gabrielle Meyer

Author:Gabrielle Meyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction;Christian fiction;Time-­travel fiction;Novels;FIC042110;FIC042030;FIC027090
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2024-03-11T00:00:00+00:00

17

HOPE

JULY 5, 1692

SALEM VILLAGE

It was later than usual when I woke up on Saturday morning, and Grace had already gone downstairs to start breakfast.

Rolling over, I looked out the small window and stared at the leaves on the treetops in the side yard. It was strange to go to sleep and wake up in the same place day after day. For the first time in my life, I had dreams. I knew what they were, of course, but I had never experienced them because my conscious mind was away from my body while I slept. But now my conscious mind stayed in my 1692 body and was filled with dreams. They were strangely abstract and contained bits and pieces from both of my paths, including my last moments in Boston, leaving me bereft and traumatized all over again.

It had been three days since I’d woken up here after the flight, and those days had gone by in a blur. I wasn’t prone to melancholy, but there was a pit deep in my stomach that ached ferociously. Thinking about Mama and Daddy’s pain made it even worse. They had just endured my funeral. Had a lot of people come?

Had Luc come?

I sat up, eager to ask Grace. I dressed and went down the back stairs to the kitchen. It was hot and stuffy despite the early hour, promising unbearable heat later in the day.

Leah was sitting with the butter churn. She glanced up at my arrival but looked down again quickly. I avoided wishing her a good morning as I walked over to Grace, who was at the hearth, flipping pancakes. A pile sat on a plate near the heat, staying warm, while cinnamon apples stewed in a pot hanging over the fire and venison sausages sizzled on a griddle. A bowl of clotted cream sat nearby, ready to be sent out with the pancakes.

Grace was a wonder at cooking. With a sigh, I realized I should probably take a better interest in it, since I would be stuck here. There would be no Delmonico’s for centuries to come.

She glanced over her shoulder and gave me a slight smile before stacking another pancake on the pile and plopping a dab of butter onto her pan to start the next one. “Good morrow, Hope.”

“Good morrow,” I told her.

“There are customers in the dining room, ready to eat.”

“Is it that late?”

“You’ve taken to sleeping longer than usual.” She worked with deft hands. “Father and Susannah are waiting for their breakfast.”

I tried not to sigh.

Perhaps it was time for us to leave the ordinary. It wouldn’t be easy to strike out on our own as single women, but maybe Father would be amenable to it now that he had a wife. I doubted it, though. Women did not leave home unless they married or their parents died. If Grace and I left, we’d be looked upon with suspicion no matter where we went. We didn’t have any money of our own, either. We’d be destitute.

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