Daring Time

"I can imagine," Ryan said. "What happened then?" "I'd already determined before I returned that it would be best for those in my time period to believe that I'd died in the way you described to me from the records," Hope said. "How else to explain the fact that I'd returned only to disappear again a few days later once my father and I had made our plans?"

"Much easier for history to believe as it did," Jacob agreed. "I myself would know that she was alive ... that she was happy and where she'd chosen to be. Once I'd understood what that man— Jack Fletcher—had done to her, I vowed then and there that nothing would stop me in my aims to stop him and those like him from hurting other young women like my Hope."

Ryan's gaze flickered over to meet Hope's but he couldn't quite interpret her steady stare.

One thing was for certain, he was enormously relieved to hear that there had never been any time or any reality where Hope's body was found beaten and decomposing in the Chicago River.

"Didn't O'Rourke want you to identify the body?"

"Indeed, that was the purpose of his errand," Jacob said. "He was in the midst of explaining to me that although the body and face were sadly unrecognizable, there was one identifying feature to the corpse that might help us determine if it was my daughter or not."

"A gold tooth. Right here," Hope said pointing to her right incisor. "That's how I knew the body they found was Sadie. I remembered she had a gold tooth in that precise location."

"At the moment Mr. O'Rourke asked me if Hope had possessed a gold tooth, I was hardly listening to him. I was staring at what I thought was the ghost of my daughter standing fifteen feet behind Mr. O'Rourke. He hadn't noticed her ghostly presence. However, it quickly became very clear to me that I was seeing no specter, for Hope was acting very un-ghostly-like, frantically nodding her head and mouthing, Yes, father. Say yes, and pointing wildly at Mr. O'Rourke and then her tooth." Jacob chuckled at the memory.

Hope snorted wit;h laughter. Ryan looked down at her and smiled. Hope's laughter was like hearing sunshine.

"Mr. O'Rourke turned around because you had such a queer look on your face, Father. I barely had time to hide myself behind the sofa."

"That's when I knew for sure I was seeing no ghost. Spirits don't dive behind furniture in order not to be seen. So I was only too happy to mislead Mr. O'Rourke and tell him my daughter did, indeed, possess such a tooth. I think he thought grief had driven me mad when he saw that I couldn't repress a grin of delight upon being told of my daughter's heinous end."

All three of them joined in laughter. "But come, Mr. Daire. Pull up a chair," Jacob invited once his I mirth had quieted. "There are many things that I need to ask you in order to provide for Hope in the future. It's very fortunate that you're here, because there are so many details about the way things work in the year 2008 that we didn't know. Financial functioning, for instance— "

"You seem to have figured things out admirably, Mr. Stillwater," Ryan said as he crossed the room and grabbed a chair.

"What do you mean, young man?"

Ryan set down his chair at the table and held out his hand to Hope. He seated her before he took his own place at the table.

"As strange as this whole situation is, I don't suppose it should come as too much of a shock to you that there's yet another surprise," Ryan said, looking first at Hope and then Jacob. He took a deep breath in preparation to explain what he'd learned this morning from his friend Alistair Franklin. "You see, it seems that I was given the Prairie Avenue mansion under your specific direction, Mr. Stillwater."

For a moment, Jacob just stared at him blankly. Then a smile began to curve his lips. "I had planned to provide for Hope through a trust that would pass into the guardianship of my descendants with each successive generation. Since I have no other children besides Hope, I designated the guardians for the trust to be the descendants of my sister, Mrs.

Margaret Tanser. Mr. Daire, do you by chance know a relative of mine who lives in your time period?"

Ryan looked over at Hope, who was watching him with open-mouthed incredulity.

"You never told me you knew my relative, Ryan," she exclaimed.

"Well, I didn't know he was your relative until this morning when he told me he was. The man who gifted me with the Prairie Avenue mansion is named Alistair Franklin. And yes, he is a direct descendant of your sister's family, Mr. Stillwater. You can imagine how amazed I was when he visited me this morning and showed me the document of your highly unusual last will and testament. You handled it all admirably. Hope is currently a very wealthy woman. A fortune is awaiting her in the First National Bank of Chicago. In addition to the wonders of compounded interest, it would seem your guardians have invested your inheritance very wisely, Hope."

"Excellent! Excellent, I'm so glad to hear of it," said Jacob with glee as he struck the table briskly.

"And of course this," Ryan glanced around the elegant ballroom, "is yours, Hope. Your father just directed for it to be given to me by the guardian living in my time period."

"I did? How brilliant on my part!"

Hope just stared at him fixedly, her dark pink lips parted in wonder.

"But it's your house, Ryan," she whispered.

He smiled and reached for her hand. Jacob Stillwater had arranged things so perfectly that the deep divide between Hope's and his culture had just narrowed to something Ryan would dare to leap in a second.

Because of Jacob's plans, Hope now was independent and could do what she pleased. He didn't have to feel guilty about the fact that he was forcing her to live with him. Hope believed herself to be a progressive thinker, and she was for her time period—no doubt about it. But no amount of education and insight could have prepared her enough to leap into living permanently with a man outside of marriage. Ryan would have offered to move back to his loft and give her use of the house, but he knew Hope well enough to know she wouldn't have abided him supporting her.

Sure, she could find work, but what were the chances that she'd make enough to continue to maintain the house? Ryan would have gifted it to her in a second, just as Alistair had gifted it to him. He doubted, however, that he'd be able to keep the truth from her about the enormous amount of money Ryan would have to take from the trust from his father in order to pay the taxes on the mansion.

Now Hope could maintain the dignity that she deserved, given her background and culture, while he could behave in the manner of any other guy from the twenty-first century that had fallen flat on his ass in love.