It stormed for three days straight. The worst part wasn't Philip, who pretended to be a half-decent human being in front of John. The worst part was not being able to leave the house. Three days of food, backgammon, cards, war stories by Philip and John, nightmares like that from the first night and vague answers from Carter about what was wrong with my head.
Because there was something. He finally told me that much.
Three days of building anxiety about the well, the sheriff, the days ticking by where I couldn't change history. I was used to the southern California lifestyle. It rarely rained like this and never for more than half a day. I was active all the time, bike riding, walking, yoga in the backyard with my aunt. I found myself doing yoga twice a day in my room during the rainout to keep from going stir crazy.
On the fourth day, the rain stopped at some point before I awoke, and the sun peeked through gray clouds to find its way past my drapes into my room. The familiar patter of rain on the roof was gone, and I rose quickly, excited at the prospect of leaving the house.
Throwing open the drapes, I studied the world outside, forbidding the clouds from opening up again. Wait until Philip is gone, I ordered them. The property was muddy. If Nell wanted to go anywhere, it'd be by horseback this day and not the carriage whose wheels would sink into the mud.
"Miss Josie!" Nell's call came from down the hallway. "Come quickly!"
I was halfway to the door before I remembered going out in my nightgown was viewed as scandalous around here. I pulled on a housecoat and my boots and left the cozy bedroom I was starting to like.
The memory, the one from down the hallway that slid into my dreams at night, was more insistent today. Pausing, my gaze flickered to the last door. I'd intended to check it out during our time held hostage by the rain, but Nell managed to keep me busy. When not with Philip and John, I was with John, reading in his study or learning to repair buttons and mend my clothes - a task I did with absolutely no joy or skill whatsoever. My fingertips were sore from how many times I poked them accidentally.
But truth be told, I had time to visit and hadn't wanted to, afraid of what I'd find in the room down the hallway. Afraid it'd make me think ill of John, the man whose love for his daughter only grew brighter and happier the more time we spent together. He was the sunshine of this place. After meeting Philip and Fighting Badger and beginning to doubt Carter, I wanted there to be a ray of sunshine, and I needed it to be the man who could've been my own father in a different place and time.