Page 11 of Timeless

“You thinkIwant that? I don’t. I only wantyouto touch me. We can’t have what we want, though. I have to marry John David. He’s a good man, Harriet. He’s the best in this dreadful place. I could’ve ended up with Albie. He beats on Marion sometimes. You know that, don’t you?”

“The whole town knows that,” Harriet said solemnly.

“Right. John David isn’t that way.”

“How do you know? You’re not his wife yet. What if he changes when you are?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” Deb took a step toward her. “Now, we have to go. I need you standing up there with me, or I won’t make it through the day, Harriet.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I need to know that you’re there. I need to kiss you one more time before I have to kiss him.”

Harriet moved into her again finally and pressed her forehead to Deb’s.

“Just promise me that when you’re with him, you’re…”

“I loveyou. Ionlylove you. I will onlyeverlove you,” she said and cupped Harriet’s cheek. “You are the only person I will ever give myself to all the way; my head, my heart, my body, and soul are yours only and will be forever.”

“Those sound like wedding vows,” Harriet replied with a small smile.

Deb’s tears fell down her cheeks.

“They are,” she whispered.

“Then, I’ll make some to you, too. I loveyou. Ionlylove you. I will onlyeverlove you. You are the only person I willever give myself to all the way; my head, my heart, my body, and soul are yours only and will be forever.” She pressed her lips to Deb’s. “Promise me that this won’t end because you’re marrying him.”

“I’ve already told you that I don’t want it to, but things will at least have to change, Harriet. I–”

“Just promise me right now, please. I need it.”

Deb nodded, with her forehead still pressed to Harriet’s, and whispered, “I promise.”

CHAPTER 6

1935

The hardest moment of Harriet’s life was no longer the moment when Deborah Wilson ran off after Harriet kissed her in a cornfield when they were twelve years old. They’d been walking through the field that autumn, loving that they could hide amongst the tall stalks just before harvest, and they’d been playing hide-and-seek with rules about how far they could go in the seemingly endless field. Harriet had been searching and searching, but eventually, she’d given up and yelled her defeat into the sky. She’d heard Deb’s laughter then. Deb had been the one to find her, tugging on Harriet’s pigtails until she turned around to face Deb, who’d still been laughing at her. She’d been so pretty, so happy, and Harriet hadn’t been able to hold it in anymore, her feelings for her best friend.

It felt like when they popped corn on the stove. They’d watch it as her mother swirled it around in the pan with oil until, eventually, one of the kernels would pop open. And that was how Harriet had felt in that moment, standing in front of the girl who had always been her best friend: she couldn’t wait any longer, swirling in the oil. She’d leaned in and kissed Deb right on the lips, pulling back just as quickly as she moved into her to check Deb’s expression. Deb had stood there, still and a little in shock, for a long moment. She’d said nothing. Then, she’d turned and run, faster than Harriet had ever seen her run, out of the field and into the expansive front yard of the farmhouse before she’d run farther inside the house itself. Harriet had even heard the screen door slam from where she’d remained.

For the few minutes she’d stood there out in the field, she’d experienced the worst sort of pain. It was pain of the heart. A knee scrape from running around playing with herbrothers didn’t even remotely compare to that kind of pain. In those moments, Harriet had worried that she’d not only lost her best friend but that her best friend might tell on her and that she would get in trouble, the kind of trouble that got girls sent away from the farm. Deciding not to take any chances and because she hadn’t felt like she’d been wrong at all to kiss Deb, she’d run into the house after her, took the rickety old wooden stairs two at a time, and burst into Deb’s bedroom, slamming the door behind her and crossing her arms over her chest.

“I love you,” she’d pronounced. “How I know you love me. So, I kissed you. What’s so wrong with that?”

“You can’t kiss a girl how you’re supposed to kiss boys,” Deb had argued as she sat on her bed, holding on to her knees.

“But I don’t want to kiss boys. And I don’t want to kiss other girls. I only want to kissyou,” Harriet had argued back. “Do you not want to kiss me?”

“I–” Deb had paused. “I don’t know.”

Harriet had smiled then. She’d had a chance. From that moment on, they’d always been together, taking all their first steps as a couple more than as friends. Neither of them had kissed a boy when the other girls had started doing that. They’d kissed only each other until they had turned sixteen. Then, they’d touched one another for the first time, and it had been perfect. Harriet had known before that, too, but she’d known for certain then that Deborah Mary Wilson was the only one for her and that one day, they’d be faced with their impending futures.

That day had come when Deb had rushed into Harriet’s room in tears, telling her that her father had settled on John David as her husband and that they would start planning the wedding and how to combine the family properties. Harriet had held her in her bed since her parents never even went into her room these days. Most of the time, they forgot she existed unless she was gone too long and not around to do her chores. So, Harriet had held her, kissed her, cried with her, and then, she’d touched her, made love to her, and toldDeb how much she loved her and that everything would be okay. After, Deb had gone home, and the wedding planning had begun in earnest the next day.

Her old worst moment in that cornfield was now her second worst moment. Harriet didn’t consider the day she’d found out about the wedding as her worst because she’d still thought she could get them both out of it. In her head, she had a plan to run away. They’d find a plot of land that no one owned, and she’d build them a makeshift home out of timber. She’d learned a lot about building things from her brothers. They’d sleep bundled up in each other’s arms to keep warm while, with Deb’s help, she’d work every day on building them something more substantial until they had a one-room cabin in the middle of nowhere, with no one to bother them. They’d make love every night, and they’d tell stories and talk about everything and anything they wanted, never having to work a farm again or marry a man they didn’t love. Something about that felt so familiar to Harriet that she was almost desperate for it.

But that hadn’t happened, of course, and now, she was standing up next to her best friend, watching her cry as she married John David Stevens. People probably thought that Deb was crying out of happiness or joy because she was marrying someone she loved, but Harriet knew the truth. She did her best to hide her own tears, silently sniffling and wiping at her eyes while turning away. To the casual observer, she’d be crying at her best friend’s happiness, but to Harriet, this was the worst moment of her entire life.

When John David leaned in to kiss Deb sweetly, Harriet turned away, and as soon as it was all right for her to do so, she hurried back down the short aisle in the middle of their small community church. The hot summer air hit her face then, yet it still felt cooler than the air inside that stifling church. Harriet had sweat pouring out of her practically everywhere. She worried that it might give her pain away, but just about everyone was fanning themselves and sweating as they poured quickly out of the church.

“Let’s head back to the house for the party,” Deb’s mother told them.

---