Next to the phone was a familiar, folded coat. I touched the soft brown leather. The lawman with the beautiful eyes had given it to me. I recalled meeting him clearly, down to his reticence about telling me anything, but not what happened before that ended with me waking up in a crater.
I picked up my cell, more interested in the messages.
It should be mid September, 1842, claimed the first. The girl you're pretending to be shares your name! Isn't that an awesome coincidence?
The décor of the room and Nell's explanations seemed to support the bizarre words.
"Kind of a weird coincidence," I whispered to him. Starting to smile, I read the second note, hoping for information about who I was supposed to be.
Put a passcode on your screen.
"That's it?" I murmured. "Genius enough to send me back in time, male enough not to realize how big of a deal that really is. No tips on how to … wait, do they even have flushing toilets?"
I sent him a long message in response with half a dozen questions. The alleged brain chip that held historical knowledge hadn't kicked in. At least, I didn't know anything more about bathrooms than I did before.
Just as I finished, Nell returned, this time with a long dress draped carefully over her arms.
"You want me to wear that?" I asked in surprise and started to laugh. "It's September! I'll burn up."
"It's your father's favorite gown, Miss Josie. He bought the material from Spain, because it matches your eyes." Nell's gaze misted over.
I took two drama classes and didn't feel too silly pretending to be someone's daughter in the eighteen hundreds. It was like a really intense play. But the wardrobe …
Ugh. The gown looked heavy and uncomfortable - not the kind of clothing I was accustomed to wearing - and came in two pieces: an elaborately decorated bodice and layered, bell-shaped petticoats. It was as far from yoga pants and a tank top as anyone could ever get. My bestie back home used to say I was too nice, because, right now, I was going to wear that mess of a gown and probably end up overheating and dying of dehydration rather than refusing and upsetting a complete stranger who appeared ready to cry.
"Sounds great," I said. "So … how is Father?"
Nell set the gown down on the bed, left and returned with more items of clothing: a chemise, corset and stockings. She spoke as she moved briskly. "He is not well. His health has been declining since your disappearance, and his mind is not right. I fear for him, Miss Josie. He is too agitated by your return. You must strive not to jest the way you always do and to be dutiful."