sure wasn't.
An eerie feeling swept over her as she observed the fort. Her dream of the attack on this fortress returned to haunt her-- the deadly arrows, the hideous screams from the woods. She suppressed a shudder. The siege will happen later, that much she knew. Rather than worry about the coming attack, it would cheer her more if she remembered what the area looked like in her own time, with its busy streets, cars, and glistening skyscrapers.
But she couldn't erase the troubling visions. She'd always hated violence; even the sight of blood made her feel faint. The memory of her parents' terrible death still tormented her, often keeping her awake at night. Now to think what she'd have to endure here when the Indian troubles started, well, she didn't want to think about it.
She stared all around her, turning her head from side to side, her gaze absorbing the ramshackle houses on the outskirts of the fort, the trading posts, the taverns, and the blacksmith's shop. A high masonry wall blocked the view of the beautiful Allegheny River , leaving her with an ugly spectacle of dirty streets and primitive structures. She'd give anything to get back to her own city, her own time.
Christian made a wide sweep of his arm. "They call this town Pittsburgh now. It's under martial law."
"Martial law?"
"True." He indicated a tavern about ten yards to their right. "You can't open a trading post or a tavern or even build a house without permission of the fort's commandant." Gwen took another look at the stone ramparts of the fort, her weird sensation returning full blast. A shiver raced down her back.
"Is something amiss?" he asked with a thoughtful frown.
"Oh!" She smiled with false cheerfulness. "I'm just so impressed with all that I see here...the fort and everything."
She removed the bonnet Rebecca had lent her, a lovely confection of white straw, pink flowers, and a wide blue ribbon on the crown. She shook the dust from the crown, then set it on her head again, adjusting the angle. More dirt had settled in the folds of her dress, and she brushed the sleeves and skirt, sending up a cloud that made her sneeze.
"When is this place going to get paved streets?" Gwen asked with a final sneeze.
"Paved streets?" Christian looked baffled. "Not for a long time, I shouldn't think."
Just as she'd figured.
"We have several trading posts here." He gestured toward the wooden huts along the Monongahela waterfront. "I doubt not it will take but a short while to see about the medicaments I ordered, but you might as well look around as long as you wish. I'll come back for you later, since I have business at the fort." He withdrew a watch from a small pouch at his waist to check the time. "That should give you ample time to make whatever purchases you need."
"What a nice watch." She bent closer for a look, their fingers touching. She spoke quickly. "You must be proud of it."
"My timepiece? Indeed, I am proud of it. A doctor on the staff in Philadelphia gave it to me when I completed my training there. Will one o'clock be agreeable to meet me again?"
Without thinking, she checked her wrist, then remembered once more her watch still languished somewhere in the twenty-first century. It was a Christmas gift from her parents years ago, and she'd never see it again. "I don't have a watch," she said, swallowing hard.
"The proprietor will know the time, I doubt not." He clicked his watch shut and tucked it back in the pouch, then ushered her toward the open door. "Shall we go in?"
She gave the trading post a disappointing glance. "Are there any other stores besides this one?"
"Other trading posts, as you can see," he said with an expansive gesture, "but Daniel and I always buy our supplies from this one. It has a wide variety of goods, I assure you."
Christian was on target about one thing, Gwen mused as they entered Levy and Franks. Maybe the trading post wasn't very fancy, but it did have a variety of goods that crowded the shelves and
An eerie feeling swept over her as she observed the fort. Her dream of the attack on this fortress returned to haunt her-- the deadly arrows, the hideous screams from the woods. She suppressed a shudder. The siege will happen later, that much she knew. Rather than worry about the coming attack, it would cheer her more if she remembered what the area looked like in her own time, with its busy streets, cars, and glistening skyscrapers.
But she couldn't erase the troubling visions. She'd always hated violence; even the sight of blood made her feel faint. The memory of her parents' terrible death still tormented her, often keeping her awake at night. Now to think what she'd have to endure here when the Indian troubles started, well, she didn't want to think about it.
She stared all around her, turning her head from side to side, her gaze absorbing the ramshackle houses on the outskirts of the fort, the trading posts, the taverns, and the blacksmith's shop. A high masonry wall blocked the view of the beautiful Allegheny River , leaving her with an ugly spectacle of dirty streets and primitive structures. She'd give anything to get back to her own city, her own time.
Christian made a wide sweep of his arm. "They call this town Pittsburgh now. It's under martial law."
"Martial law?"
"True." He indicated a tavern about ten yards to their right. "You can't open a trading post or a tavern or even build a house without permission of the fort's commandant." Gwen took another look at the stone ramparts of the fort, her weird sensation returning full blast. A shiver raced down her back.
"Is something amiss?" he asked with a thoughtful frown.
"Oh!" She smiled with false cheerfulness. "I'm just so impressed with all that I see here...the fort and everything."
She removed the bonnet Rebecca had lent her, a lovely confection of white straw, pink flowers, and a wide blue ribbon on the crown. She shook the dust from the crown, then set it on her head again, adjusting the angle. More dirt had settled in the folds of her dress, and she brushed the sleeves and skirt, sending up a cloud that made her sneeze.
"When is this place going to get paved streets?" Gwen asked with a final sneeze.
"Paved streets?" Christian looked baffled. "Not for a long time, I shouldn't think."
Just as she'd figured.
"We have several trading posts here." He gestured toward the wooden huts along the Monongahela waterfront. "I doubt not it will take but a short while to see about the medicaments I ordered, but you might as well look around as long as you wish. I'll come back for you later, since I have business at the fort." He withdrew a watch from a small pouch at his waist to check the time. "That should give you ample time to make whatever purchases you need."
"What a nice watch." She bent closer for a look, their fingers touching. She spoke quickly. "You must be proud of it."
"My timepiece? Indeed, I am proud of it. A doctor on the staff in Philadelphia gave it to me when I completed my training there. Will one o'clock be agreeable to meet me again?"
Without thinking, she checked her wrist, then remembered once more her watch still languished somewhere in the twenty-first century. It was a Christmas gift from her parents years ago, and she'd never see it again. "I don't have a watch," she said, swallowing hard.
"The proprietor will know the time, I doubt not." He clicked his watch shut and tucked it back in the pouch, then ushered her toward the open door. "Shall we go in?"
She gave the trading post a disappointing glance. "Are there any other stores besides this one?"
"Other trading posts, as you can see," he said with an expansive gesture, "but Daniel and I always buy our supplies from this one. It has a wide variety of goods, I assure you."
Christian was on target about one thing, Gwen mused as they entered Levy and Franks. Maybe the trading post wasn't very fancy, but it did have a variety of goods that crowded the shelves and
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