Page 10 of Christmas Past
And also, Charles hadn’t known about my ability to travel in time.
“So…I’m curious how you could disappear someplace where there weren’t any phones or even telegraphs,” Charles said as he cut his roast beef with unnecessary force. “It would have been nice to know whether you were alive or dead.”
“Charles,” Henry said, his tone quiet but full of warning nonetheless.
“No, Dad, I think it’s a fair point,” Charles continued, and didn’t even look at his father. “The least you can do is let your family know you’re all right. Don’t you think so, Miss Rowe?”
Seth tensed beside me, and under the table, I laid a quelling hand on his knee. “I think,” I said carefully, “that sometimes circumstances are more complicated than they appear from the outside.”
“‘Complicated.’” Charles chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. “That’s one word for it.”
Abigail had remained largely silent throughout the meal, picking at her food with birdlike delicacy. But now she spoke up, her voice soft but carrying clearly across the tense silence at the table. “I’m sure Seth had his reasons for leaving,” she said. “Although it does seem rather sudden, this engagement. I’m sure I had no idea you’d formed any kind of attachment while Miss Rowe was in town.”
Seth’s eyes narrowed. “That’s because we didn’t believe it was anyone else’s business.”
Molly made a warning sound, and he pulled in a breath and picked up his knife and fork so he could cut another piece of roast beef.
Apparently, Abigail didn’t seem to notice the exchange between mother and son, because she went on, “It’s just that when someone disappears for months and then returns engaged to a woman he barely knows….” She gave a delicate shrug. “Well, it raises questions, don’t you think?”
I suppose it did. However, I knew Seth was still deciding what kind of answers he could give…and also knew he had no intention of uttering them anywhere near Abigail McAllister.
Henry and Molly tried valiantly to keep the conversation on neutral topics — the weather, the Christmas decorations around town, plans for the New Year, and Charles and Abigail’s upcoming nuptials — but the undercurrent of tension at the table was impossible to ignore. I found myself watching Charles carefully, trying to reconcile this fiery man with the bitter, careworn person we’d encountered in 1947. That Charles had been worn down by decades of an unhappy marriage and the weight of believing he’d caused his brother’s death. This Charles was much more volatile, and I wasn’t sure what to expect from him.
Finally, Seth pushed his chair back from the table with a loud scrape. “Charles, I think you and I need to talk. Outside.”
His brother set down the fork he’d been holding. “I don’t think that’s necessary — ”
“Yes, I think that’s a discussion you can leave until a later time,” Molly cut in. “It’s Christmas Eve!”
Seth’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I know Charles and I need to do this.” His tone was firm enough that it appeared Molly realized there was no point in arguing with him. Then he turned to me, and I could see the determination in his clear blue eyes. “Devynn, would you come with us? We don’t have any secrets from each other.”
Charles’s face suffused with anger — right then, I was glad this had been a dry dinner, thanks to Prohibition, since I didn’t want to think what he would have been like if he’d actually been drinking — and Abigail’s mouth pursed with what might have been disapproval. But neither of them protested, so the three of us excused ourselves and stepped out onto the landing, and Seth closed the door behind us.
“All right,” Charles said as he crossed his arms. “Let’s have it, then. Where the hell have you been for the past six months? And don’t give me any more nonsense about ‘traveling.’ I’m not an idiot, Seth. I saw you and Devynn disappear after Allenby shot her. Where did you go?”
Seth was quiet for a long moment, his hands shoved into the pockets of his wool trousers. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentler than I’d expected. “As Devynn said, that’s…complicated. But first, I think you might have some things you should say to me.”
Charles’s composure cracked then, and I saw a flash of the guilt he’d been carrying written plainly in his features. His shoulders sagged, and he suddenly looked much older than his years, reminding me of the version of himself we’d met in 1947.
“Seth, I’m sorry,” he said. The words came out quickly, as if he somehow knew if he didn’t say them all at once, he’d never say them at all. “It was my fault. Dragging you into the bootlegging ring, and then what happened to you, Devynn — I never meant for any of it to go so wrong.”
Expression almost stricken, Seth replied in a near-murmur, “I know you didn’t.”
“When you disappeared like that and never came back,” Charles continued, his words coming even faster now, as if a dam had burst, “I thought — I thought I’d gotten you killed. Both of you. And for what? A chance to win back Mary Towne? Some stupid idea that I could impress her family with a big house and a fat bankroll?” He turned to me then, and for a second, his mouth tightened. Somehow I knew he was forcing himself to address me directly, and I knew then that our dislike was mutual. “Devynn, I should never have involved Seth in any of it. I should never have put you in danger. When Allenby shot you….”
My throat tightened. I’d heard about the aftermath of that night only in 1947, when we’d learned that Lionel Allenby had supposedly died in an “accident” shortly after shooting me. I’d never really considered what Charles must have gone through in those immediate moments, watching us both disappear and not knowing if I’d died in his brother’s arms.
“It’s all right,” I said quietly. “We’re both fine.”
“But where were you?” The anguish in Charles’s voice was painful to hear. “My mother’s been putting on a brave face, but I know she’s been heartbroken at the way Seth disappeared. Dad’s aged ten years. I did that. I caused all of it because I was too proud to accept that Mary Towne was never going to come back to me.”
Seth stepped closer to his brother. “Charles, it’s all right. Devynn and I are fine. And what happened wasn’t entirely your fault.”
Hands now shoved in his pockets, Charles retorted, “How can you say that? If I hadn’t been running moonshine — ”
“If Lionel Allenby hadn’t been a greedy, violent man who saw Devynn as a threat to his operation,” Seth broke in, voice firm enough that his brother seemed to subside for the moment. “If I had been honest with you about how I felt about the whole business instead of just going along with it. If I had told Devynn the truth from the beginning instead of trying to hide what I was doing. There were a lot of factors that led to that night, Charles. You weren’t the only one who made mistakes.”
Charles stared at his brother for a long moment, clearly wrestling with himself. “But I was the one who got you involved in the first place. I knew you’d do anything for family, and I exploited that.”
