CHAPTER FOUR: April 15, 1914

“Our first stop,” Dodge announces.

“What is this place?” I ask. The building before us isn’t far from where the DeLorean Box dumped us in a deserted alley amid clotheslines of dingy undergarments and sharp-eyed rats.

“A job interview,” Dodge says. “Dr. Wells thought it’d be a good idea for you to support yourself, and this particular position seemed like something you’d enjoy.”

“Did you two really think this would be something I’d enjoy, or did you find a record somewhere saying this is what I end up doing?”

“I don’t know what Dr. Wells knows,” he admits, “but I’ve asked him not to tell me anything he finds out about your life here, either. It’s going to be easier on us all if we don’t know. I’ve already worked it out that I’ll always visit 219 years from my own present, so our lives will run parallel. That way, a year from now, we’ll both be a year older. Ten years from now, we’ll both be ten years older, and so on. And I won’t ever know anything about your future.”

I’m skeptical, but I give him the benefit of the doubt and follow him through the heavy wooden doors.

“Oliver McIntire,” the man at the front desk says, offering Dodge a handshake. When his eyes meet mine, though, he anxiously reaches for a stack of files to restack, fumbling with them and looking anywhere but at me. It’s kind of cute, the way his freckles stand out even more against his flushed cheeks. He clears his throat. “I’m very glad you’ve come in, Miss Argent.”

It takes me a moment to realize he’s referring to me. It was Dodge’s idea to use Mum’s surname. Obviously, he must have found me in some historical records under that name, but I don’t want to know, so I don’t ask.

“Please, call me Cass.” From the look of surprise on the clerk’s face—and the glare of disapproval from Dodge—that’s probably not the most appropriate response for a young lady of this era to give, but no matter.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Oliver says, directing his question to Dodge. “Is there any particular reason why your sister needs to take a job? Are you unable to provide for her?”

I smirk at Dodge, but he shoots me a scathing look that wipes the smile from my face. Right. For a second there, I’d forgotten that I want him to leave. That I need him to leave so I can have some freedom here in the past to pursue my own goals.

“I’ve recently purchased some land out west,” he says. I wonder if he’s ad-libbing or if he’d thought this all out ahead of time. “I need to ensure everything’s prepared before I send for her—build a proper house, fences, barns… you understand—but I’m not certain how long it will take, and I won’t have funds to send back to her until I start turning over a profit, which will be at least a year.”

“Ah.” Oliver nods, though I suspect from his surreptitious glances that he’s wondering why I don’t already have a husband and a house of my own to care for; I’m old enough for it, by this era’s norms. He reaches into a desk drawer for a brochure. “Well, at this time, the Fred Harvey Company is particularly looking for serving girls for the California Limited. It’s a great opportunity for young ladies of your age. You’re able to travel and see the country from here all the way to the west coast. We train our workers and pay $17.50 a month, plus room, board, and gratuity. A very generous income for a woman like yourself.”

“That sounds perfect,” Dodge says, handing me the brochure.

I wrinkle my nose at the image on the front of girls with their hair pulled back in bows and matching black-and-white uniforms with lacy aprons.

“Cass,” Dodge leans over to say, “the Harvey Girls are very respectable, and you’ll have a chance to save up some money, see the world, get to know people. I’m sure serving won’t be too difficult.”

“Right.” I force a smile. It doesn’t sound too hard (how complicated can serving tables be?), but California is precisely the opposite direction from where I need to be. I only have two months before the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, so if I’m going to prevent the first world war—and the decimation of Germany that leads to the second—I need to find the president or the secretary of defense—someone with power and authority to enact change.

Still… if I can play along long enough to get Dodge off my back, I can sneak away at the first opportunity. I slap the brochure down on the desk between us. “That sounds just dandy.”

Dodge gives a slight shake of the head, but whether he’s disapproving of my exuberance or my use of the word ‘dandy’ isn’t clear.

“Excellent!” Oliver says, looking as excited as if he’s discovered the cure for the AI Virus of 2105. He pulls a document from a file and sets it on the table between us with a pen on top. I look to Dodge for an explanation.

“You have to sign the contract,” he mouths.

“With a pen?” I mouth back. I’m going to look ridiculous trying to figure out how to use the thing.

“Sorry, what was that?” Oliver asks, looking up.

“Nothing,” Dodge and I say together.

Dodge clears his throat. “What are the contract terms?”

“The Fred Harvey Company requires a one-year employment contract,” Oliver says, sliding the contract in front of Dodge.

I grab a corner and pull it toward me.

Oliver blinks in obvious surprise.

“A one-year contract?” I prompt him.

“Ah… yes,” he says, withdrawing his hand. “I must warn you that you’ll forfeit half your base pay if you fail to complete that year.”

“Fail to complete…?”

“Sometimes women will meet someone and wish to marry,” he says, blushing furiously. “Bound to happen when you have so many women of marriageable age in a position where they might meet eligible young men.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Dodge says. “Cass won’t be getting married this year.”

“I won’t?” I shoot him a look of challenge. What does he know about my future?

He bites his lip and shakes his head, nearly imperceptibly.

I narrow my eyes. I can marry whenever I want, never mind what Dodge’s historical records say.

“What do you think, Mr. McIntire?” I tease, leaning over the papers toward him. “Do you think the men out west would be interested in a woman like me?”

“I… That is…”

“Cass,” Dodge warns. He turns to Oliver. “I can assure you, as her guardian, my sister will not be marrying anyone without my permission. I’ll see to it that she keeps to her contract. Go on, Cass, sign the document.”

I scowl but press the nub of the pen to the paper. The device is awkward and initially, I press too hard, but finally, I manage to sign my name.

“There.” I curve the final letters upward with a flourish. “When do I begin?”

Oliver flips over the brochure and runs a finger along the train schedule. “Ah, you’re in luck. The California Limited will be leaving Chicago tomorrow. You can begin right away.”

“Great.”

He tells us where to report the next morning and shakes hands with Oliver. This time, I don’t offer him mine, though I do sneak him a wink, which causes him to blush profusely and reshuffle his papers yet again.

Dodge’s steps are lighter as we head north, toward a boarding house where we can stay for the night, but I hang back, trying to work out exactly how—on a train speeding westward—I’m going to prevent the Great War. If Archduke Ferdinand is still shot in two months, it’ll be entirely Dodge’s fault.

***

“Lovely to meet you, Cassandra. I’ll be your house mother, Mrs. Wallace.”

The woman standing before me at the train station looks kind enough, but there’s a steely sharpness in her eye that warns me she’s not to be underestimated. As Dodge explained to me the night before, the Harvey Girls are known for their squeaky-clean reputation; the house mothers must be women who will take no guff.

“Now why don’t you say goodbye to your brother here, and we can get you a uniform and a sleeping berth and start right away on your training?” she continues cheerily. “The other ladies will be delighted to meet you.”

I glance at Dodge, who’s standing solidly behind me as if somehow he knows I might up and bolt at the last minute. I’d tried to talk him into letting me walk down to the train station myself—goodness knows I’ve taken the airtrain by myself a million times—but he wouldn’t hear of it. Apparently, it just isn’t done. Or so he said.

I’m left, then, with no choice but to sneak off the train at its first stop in Joliet, Illinois. I need to head east, not west, and I have no desire to wait until the train is back in Chicago for my escape. Spending even a week carrying plates of food to a bunch of rich folks on a train isn’t how I ought to be spending my time. I’m a time traveler, after all, one with vast amounts of knowledge about these people’s future; there are far more important things I ought to be doing.

“I suppose this is goodbye,” Dodge says. He pulls me in for an embrace, which I’d have considered uncharacteristically sweet, except that then I realize he’s only done it as an excuse to whisper in my ear: “Please don’t do anything stupid, Cass.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he says, pulling away with a teasing smile. “You’ll get out fine. I’m worried what you’ll do to the rest of the world.”

“No need to worry about that, either. I’m certain this world will be a much better place with me in it.” I ignore the sudden quirk of his brow. “You take care of Dad and Mum. Tell them I love them.”

“Absolutely.” Dodge hesitates. Before I can ask what’s bothering him, he undoes the strap on his wristwatch and holds it out. “Here. Take this.”

I take it obediently. “Thanks, I guess?”

He leans in, pretending to help me adjust the strap. “It isn’t an ordinary watch. It was given to me by the company I work for, made specially for people traveling in time.”

“Don’t you need it?”

“I’ve got another. I want you to have this one. That way, other time travelers will be able to recognize you as one of them.”

“Other time travelers?” I glance around, as if expecting to see them here, now, on this train platform.

“Sure. People who work for Dr. Wells’s organization—in his time and in mine. We work all up and down the timeline, all from various eras going back hundreds of years from our present. With that watch, anyone who sees you will know you’re one of us. Hopefully… Well, hopefully it’ll help you not feel so alone.”

“Thanks, Dodge.” I hold up my wrist to admire it. “It means a lot.”

“Now go,” he says. “Your house mother’s waiting.”

I glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, Mrs. Wallace is waiting just inside the train car, her arms crossed and her head cocked ever so slightly, watching Dodge and me with unabashed curiosity.

“See you later,” I call back as I climb the train steps.

Mrs. Wallace hands me a stack of clothing, fresh-smelling and neatly folded.

“I know you’re on the young side and that this is probably your first time away from home, but I won’t have any weeping or carrying on from my girls. We must put on a brave face. Harvey Girls aren’t the type to mope or complain, you hear?”

My gaze flickers back to where Dodge is still waiting, guarding the train car like some sort of watchdog. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, let me show you your sleeping quarters. You’ll be sharing a berth with three other ladies. You’ll have five minutes to unpack and change into your uniform, after which you’ll report to the dining car. We’re short on help, and we’ll need to go over the ground rules before lunch service begins.”