Free Ambrosia Shore by Christie Anderson

innermost thoughts for a bit of light reading, or even worse—to figure out how to lure me into a trap, like Voss did.
    I closed the book shut. It was the right thing to do. My fingers tapped on the smooth, worn out leather, making a mental note to myself to remember to get my diary back from Jax as soon as I had the chance.
    Of course…this journal was super old; the person who owned it was probably long gone by now. And whoever it was had left it in Andella’s possession, so they obviously didn’t care if she were to read it…
    Curiosity got the best of me. I flipped open to the first page and started to read:
     
6 August 1625
I could not have dreamed up a more absurd, improbable scenario than this. That I, Jane Carpenter, the once ridiculously naive and easily forgettable, Jane Carpenter, a person of little consequence, would be preparing to marry the most gallant, most honorable man I have ever had the privilege to converse with in all my nineteen years. Yet, it remains the truth. By this time on the morrow, the dashing Mr. William Fairbanks will be my lawful wedded husband and I will be his wife.
     
     
    Oh. My. Gosh. Was I reading this right? There was no way… I read the entire paragraph again. The frilly lettering was a little hard to read, so there was a chance I had made a mistake, wasn’t there? There had to be. There was just no way that this little brown book that just happened to fall into my lap by a delusional old lady was the actual journal of my ancestor, Jane Carpenter.
    But I read it again, and I could only come to the exact same conclusion. It was Jane Carpenter’s journal.
     
     

8. TEASE
     
     
     
    How was it possible that I was holding a book written by my own ancestor almost four hundred years ago? What were the chances? And why did Rayne’s poor, confused old grandmother have it in the first place? Was it possible that Andella actually knew Jane Carpenter?
    I tried to do the math in my head. The first journal entry was dated back in 1625 when Jane said she was only nineteen, and Rayne told me the night before that his grandmother was over two hundred years old. So, if Jane Carpenter also lived for more than two hundred years, then, yes, it seemed completely possible that their lives had overlapped by at least a few years.
    When Andella gave me the book she seemed to be confusing me with someone else. She said she was keeping the book safe just like the person had asked her to. Was Jane Carpenter that person? Was Rayne’s grandmother confusing me with Jane? We were related after all. Maybe Jane and I looked similar to each other. But why would it be so important for her to keep the journal safe in the first place?
    I thought about running over to Andella’s house to pick her brain for answers, but she really didn’t seem like a reliable source at the moment. I decided that the best place to find the answers was right in the journal itself. I couldn’t help but continue reading:
     
I haven’t been one to write much in the past, but am now doing so by the request of my beloved William who believes our journey to this world we now call Ambrosia, which began more than two years past, is of great importance and we would all be wise to make record of it. Although I find the pen wearisome at times, I would do near to anything that my William were to ask of me. And what a better time to begin to take note than on the eve of what is to be the most joyous of occasions?
 
By some, at present, it is believed that I am a girl too young to be wed, and certainly not a proper match for the man who singlehandedly discovered the glorious divide that would lead our people to this blessed new land. But I for one will not allow the ignorance of others to affect my happiness, and certainly not on my own wedding day. Notwithstanding, these ill feelings are only shared by a select few, and I find the majority of those I am acquainted with to be quite in agreement of our union.
 
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