Ticket to Tomorrow, page 4
part #1 of A Fair to Remember Series
Maybe Mr. Trenton had arrived already. If so, it wouldn't hurt to have a chat with the man on the difference between life in the city and the Indiana countryside.
* * *
Sunlight glinted off the immense white buildings. In the morning light, the White City appeared even more breathtaking than it had the previous evening.
Annie squinted her eyes, dazzled by the brilliance. She took a firmer hold on the handle of the errant satchel and set off along the walkway that ran the length of the Manufactures Building.
With Silas safely tucked away in their booth, she should have plenty of time to complete her errand. If only she could be sure he would still be there when she returned.
A momentary flicker of concern marred the beauty of the morning. No, surely Silas wouldn't leave his beloved carriage. Not while he had an appreciative audience, and there had been a constant stream of spectators since the first wave of fairgoers poured into the grounds. It wouldn't take long to return the satchel to its rightful owner and make her way back.
Minutes later, Annie decided her assessment of the time her errand would take had been overly optimistic. She hadn't traversed even half the length of the Manufactures Building yet. The night before, she thought it looked big enough to swallow her uncle's hayfield back home. At the time, she attributed her reaction to sheer exhaustion, but seen in the full light of day, the building was even bigger than she remembered.
She shifted the satchel to her other hand and kept on walking. On the opposite side of the walkway, a light breeze ruffled the waters of a lagoon. Annie strode along briskly, skirting knots of fairgoers who stopped to stare open-mouthed at the massive building with its sea-green roof.
Wait until they got their first glimpse of the exhibits it held! Just the sampling she had seen so far made her mind reel. She could have stayed inside and followed the broad avenue that bisected the building lengthwise, but she would never have made it to the other end in time. Not with so many people jammed together. A sense of wonder, almost a reverent hush, seemed to overtake them as soon as they walked through the doorway and immediately slowed to a snail's pace. No, she never would have gotten to the meeting place in time.
If there was a meeting. Annie switched the satchel back to her other hand, assailed by a niggling sense of doubt. The whole thing could turn out to be a fool's errand, the product of her imagination.
She dodged a young man pushing a rolling chair and thumped the satchel squarely into a bewhiskered man standing near the water's edge.
"Excuse me," she murmured.
She glared at her troublesome burden. If she didn't find its owner by that statue, she would be tempted to pitch the bag into Lake Michigan, right then and there.
Annie rounded the corner of the Manufactures Building at last and came face to face with the Grand Basin. She set the satchel down long enough to catch her breath and get her bearings. According to the map, the Administration Building should be on her right. Yes, there it was, even more imposing than before, with its golden dome gleaming in the sunlight.
The Statue of the Republic, then, should be off to her left. Annie swiveled her head and saw it, a gilded figure with upraised arms, standing on its pedestal at the end of the Grand Basin nearest the lake.
She picked up the satchel again and headed toward the statue, wondering suddenly how she would ever find its owner in this crowd. The thought prompted a quick prayer. Please let him be there. And help me to recognize him.
And there he was, looking just like he had the day before in the station, but without the angry scowl creasing his face. Her quarry was deep in conversation with a stocky man with swarthy skin.
Two other men, rough-looking types, flanked them. One, with a nose that looked like it had been flattened in a fistfight, gave Annie a look of hostility that made her steps falter.
He pointed to the satchel. "Where'd you get that?"
The man she sought turned at the interruption. He followed the direction of his companion's gaze, taking in Annie and the satchel with a single glance. His dark eyes gleamed and a pleased smile lit his face.
He stepped toward Annie and inclined his head. The other men moved back, but Annie could see them darting curious glances her way. The one who had questioned her didn't bother to pretend to look elsewhere, but stared straight at her with a boldness that made her feel exposed.
Turning her back to the group, Annie focused her gaze on the man before her and lifted the satchel slightly. "I believe this belongs to you."
"It does indeed. I had lost hope of ever seeing it again. I certainly never expected it to be returned by such a charming courier."
Annie searched his face, finding no trace of the peevish man who snapped at Silas the day before. "The man you bumped into at the station is my companion. Your satchels are remarkably similar. I believe they were switched in all the confusion."
Please, just take it and let me be on my way. She didn't have to look to know the flat-nosed man still stared at her. She could feel his burning gaze between her shoulder blades.
The satchel's owner reached for the bag with his left hand and took Annie's fingers in his right. He brushed the back of her hand with his lips. "Amazing that I could have missed noticing such a lovely lady, even in the midst of all that chaos. Allow me to introduce myself. John James Frost, at your service, and eternally grateful for the return of my property."
Annie tugged gently and freed her fingers from his grasp. Clasping both hands against her waist, she curved her lips in what she hoped would pass for a pleasant smile.
"I'm glad I was able to find you, Mr. Frost. I suppose it would be too much to hope that you might have the other satchel with you?"
"Alas, I'm afraid I left it behind in my lodgings. I had no idea I would discover the identity of its owner this morning. But if you'll tell me where I can send it, I will have it delivered posthaste." He produced a scrap of paper and a pencil.
"How did you know where to find me?" he asked, while Annie scribbled down Silas's name and the address of their boarding house.
Heat tinged Annie's cheeks. "I'm afraid I was compelled to look through your satchel for some clue as to who it belonged to. I found a note in an envelope and only hoped I had interpreted it correctly. But I didn't know for sure until I saw you here."
"You figured it out from those scribbles, did you?" Frost's features grew taut. He studied her for a long moment before his face relaxed, and he favored her with an easy smile. "That was very clever of you, if you don't mind my saying so."
He glanced down at the paper Annie handed him. "I'll have the satchel delivered right away, Mrs. Crockett."
Annie lifted her chin and met his eyes. "It's Mrs. Trenton. Annie Trenton. Mr. Crockett and I are business partners. We have an exhibit on display in the Manufactures Building."
"Ah, I see." Frost eyed her with renewed interest. "You appear to be a woman of many talents, Mrs. Trenton. I must stop by to see your exhibit one day. I'm here on business myself."
Annie nodded and edged backward, waiting for an opportune moment to take her leave.
"I'm involved in a number of varied business interests," Frost continued. "Most of my time at the fair will be spent studying the sugar exhibits in the Agricultural Building. The exposition gives an unparalleled opportunity for forward-thinking men to see what is new. One has to stay up to date, you know."
"Yes, well..." Annie backed up another step. "I'm pleased we've been able to iron out this little mixup. I hope you enjoy your stay at the fair."
"I plan to." Frost smiled. "Perhaps our paths will cross again."
Annie gave a tight smile and turned away. She devoutly hoped not. The man and his companions made her skin crawl.
* * *
"Good morning, Uncle. Looks like you've been hard at work." Nick grinned when Silas took a moment or two to place him before smiling in response. Last night they had done little more than park the carriage in its assigned space. This morning, bunting adorned the display area, and a placard proudly proclaimed the name of the Crockett-Trenton Horseless Carriage to all who passed by.
"Indeed, indeed." Silas rubbed his handkerchief across the carriage's gleaming surface. "I'm glad you like it. Annie put the finishing touches on it this morning before she left."
"Left? You mean she's gone back to Indiana?"
His uncle chuckled. "Hardly, dear boy. She merely had to run an errand here on the fairgrounds. She'll be back shortly."
Nick perused a series of posters describing the concept of internal combustion and outlining the procedure for starting the engine.
"It was nice of her to take such an interest. When is her husband supposed to arrive?"
The question drew a blank stare from his uncle. "Why, he isn't. He couldn't now, could he?"
A skinny fellow with a ginger-haired girl in tow stopped to eye the carriage. "What's going to make me trade in my horse for one of these?" he demanded.
The girl giggled.
Silas bristled. "How long can your horse carry you without getting tired? The Crockett-Trenton Horseless Carriage can run without taking a rest as long as it has fuel."
Nick settled back to wait while his uncle extolled the advantages of motorized travel.
"You don't need to feed it hay twice a day. Moreover, it will never run away, and you don't have to clean up after it."
The girl giggled again at her swain's discomfiture. The young man reddened and they left abruptly.
Nick drew nearer to his uncle. "Why couldn't he come?"
"Who?"
The corners of Nick's mouth twitched upward. "Mr. Trenton. Why isn't he able to come to Chicago?"
"Will? Why, he's been dead for over a year, God rest his soul."
"Dead?" Nick's jaw sagged. "I don't understand. I thought he was your partner."
"He is... or was, I should say." Uncle Silas looked out across the crowd that filled the Manufactures Building, but Nick had a feeling his eyes weren't focusing on anything but the past.
"We built the carriage together. It was his brainchild, as a matter of fact. I remember how excited he was when we first talked of bringing it to the fair. He would have been as thrilled as I am to be standing here today."
Uncle Silas pulled a kerchief from his pocket and made a show of polishing his spectacles. "It's a bittersweet thing, to be here without him."
He turned away and leaned over to breathe on one of the wheels and give it a loving polish, then he flicked an invisible speck of dust off a spoke. "Annie came along to help. She's been a part of things from the very beginning, taking notes on procedures and keeping things in order. She even helped with the mechanical drawings. She's very efficient, you know."
Nick smiled, recalling the way she took his uncle in hand the night before, and with barely a ruffle in her composure. "So she's your partner now?"
"Well, yes, in a manner of speaking. She doesn't do the actual design work, you understand, but she can read specifications nearly as well as I can. And she knows as much about the carriage as either Will or I did. Quite a remarkable woman."
"Yes," Nick said slowly. "I can see that."
A knot of people began to gather at the edge of the display area. One man started asking questions. Nick excused himself and wandered toward the nearest exit.
He made his way outside, lost in thoughts of the young woman with the sea-blue eyes. A widow—and at such an early age. Such things happened often enough, but that didn't make it any easier for those concerned. He hated to think of someone as lovely and fragile as Annie Trenton having to endure such a loss.
That could account for the hint of sadness in her eyes and her air of vulnerability. She was far too young and beautiful to be left on her own. Dealing with Uncle Silas on a daily basis was challenge enough for anyone. Having to cope with that kind of grief on top of it...
His heart ached for her. Trying to keep up with the demands of the exposition would be difficult, especially for someone more used to the slower pace of life in Indiana than the bustle of a big city. Maybe he would have to watch out for her as well as his uncle.
Yes, he could certainly do that. He would try to make sure she was comfortable and do what he could to bring a little happiness into her life. In fact, there was something he could do right now.
6
Annie ducked inside the west door of the Manufactures Building and joined the throng inspecting the exhibits from Great Britain and Germany. She couldn't justify taking the time to stroll the full length of the building, but surely she could allow herself the luxury of admiring some of the displays on her way back to their booth.
Without slowing her pace, she let her gaze trail over sections displaying miniature vases, pottery-ware by Doulton & Co. of London, even a reproduction of an English banqueting hall. She breathed deeply and let her earlier tension drop away, and along with it the feeling of revulsion she carried after her encounter with Frost and his men. With Frost's satchel back in his hands and the return of Silas's assured, she felt free at last to give free rein to her excitement at being a part of the exposition.
So much to look at, so many things to see! Annie drank in the sights while her feet carried her back toward the booth and Silas. She reached the clock tower that marked the center of the immense building and turned northward along the broad central thoroughfare. Columbia Avenue, they called it. Annie smiled at the fanciful name. Imagine, a street within a building!
Her steps slowed when she spotted an elegant display. Glancing up, she noted the name: Tiffany & Co. Her breath left her lungs in an audible whoosh.
Casting a look of sheer longing at the glittering array, she forced herself to hasten along the indoor avenue, consoling herself with a promise to come back when she could spare the time to give the lovely goods her undivided attention.
More displays drew her as she continued on her way. She would have to carve out snippets of time to see them all. It would be a crime to be there, right in the heart of the greatest public exhibition ever put together, and not savor every aspect of the experience.
The prospect of touring the grounds like any other fairgoer buoyed her spirits. All the months of planning and dreaming, the long days and even longer nights spent designing, fabricating, and testing parts, then scrapping those that proved unworkable and coming up with new ones—that was all in the past. They were here at last, she and Silas, a part of this grand world's fair that would draw visitors from every corner of the globe.
But Will isn't. The thought stopped her in her tracks.
With a supreme effort, Annie collected herself and forged ahead. No, Will wouldn't be here see the achievement of his dream, but his genius would be seen and recognized. She would see to that. The carriage would garner all the acclaim it was due.
And please, Lord, an investor or two. A financial backer would keep Crockett & Trenton solvent while she and Silas investigated ways of manufacturing the vehicles on a larger scale. The carriage deserved to be more than a pleasant memory in the minds of fairgoers. It had to be made available to the public. And that took money, far more than either she or Silas could come up with on their own.
Thinking of Silas, Annie picked up her pace, chastising herself for dallying when she saw him standing alone at the back of the booth, looking harried and fretful.
"What's the matter?" she asked the moment she drew near enough to be heard.
"We're in the Manufactures Building." Silas's expression couldn't have been more woebegone.
"Yes?" Annie waited, knowing the rest of the answer would come eventually.
"But we aren't supposed to be here."
"Not supposed to... No, Silas, this area was marked off for us when we got here last night, remember?"
"I thought it a perfectly wonderful location, but that gentleman over there"—Silas pointed to a stocky man heading toward a collection of vaults and safes—"told me there is a separate building, just for transportation exhibits. He said he was surprised we weren't in there. They've put us in the wrong building, Annie. Whatever shall we do?"
Startled, Annie turned in a slow circle and studied the exhibits surrounding them. With such a vast array of items on display, she hadn't taken the time to try to sort them into any kind of order before, but Silas was right. There wasn't another vehicle anywhere in sight.
But the fairgoers didn't seem to mind. A steady stream of curious spectators continued to flow past their booth. She tilted her chin and forced a smile. "The wrong building? Hardly! We've been here less than one full day, and look at the interest people have shown already." She nodded at a small group peering intently at the carriage. "I'd hardly consider this a failure, would you?"
Silas followed her gaze and perked up a bit. "I suppose you're right." He drifted over to explain the carriage and answer questions.
Annie's smile remained in place until his back was turned, then she sagged against the small table at the rear of the booth. What if Silas's informant was right? Would all their hard work be for nought if they were in the wrong place and never got a chance to connect with the people who could help them?
How had such an error come about at this meticulously organized fair? She had handled the paperwork herself.
No, she hadn't. She sent off the initial inquiry about exhibiting and set the process in motion. But that was back when the fair itself was in the planning stages. Once Will's accident shattered her existence, she had been in no condition to handle such matters.
Silas had taken over the paperwork in those dark days following Will's death, when all she could remember was wandering about like one lost in a fog. It would have been all too easy for him to have turned a straightforward entry into a confused jumble.
She took another look around, noting the nearby displays of valises, trunks, canes, and umbrellas—travel items all. It would have been just like Silas to send a letter saying he desired to enter an exhibit related to travel and leave the fair superintendents to draw their own conclusions.
