Most men—his brother John a prime example—could watch and hear the same things as Samuel, yet not notice a single thing.
But Ella had not been subjected to his mother’s training. She wasn’t just another version of all the other southern ladies of his social circle.
She was like an unpolished stone.
Beautiful.
Different.
Not polished down to be like all other women.
Black clouds were gathering in the west.
A flash of lightning jarred his attention away from her.
“We should go,” he said. They did not need to be caught here in a storm.
He turned his horse and took her reins to help her turn her horse, too.
But her mare, gentle as she was, wasn’t suited for stormy weather.
When the crash of thunder followed the lightning, Peaches reared up.
Ella put her arms around the horse’s neck and held on.
“Hold on,” he said to Ella.
“Whoa, girl,” he said to the horse, still holding onto her reins. “It’s just a storm.”
The horse’s eyes looked wild. Samuel couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken Peaches out to ride.
His sister used to ride her, but Beatrice rode a different horse now. A younger horse.
Peaches had gotten older and jumpier.
Ella looked over her shoulder. “That looks like a really bad storm.”
“Agreed.” He spurred his horse, pulling Peaches along behind them. “Just hold on.”
He didn’t want to move too quickly, not knowing how Peaches was going to react. But he kept up a steady pace.
But the storm was moving quickly. The wind whipped around them, sending leaves swirling through the air.
They were almost back to the house. He could see the barn up ahead.
One of his father’s hounds ran out to meet them.
Samuel felt his heart rate start to return to normal.
They were only a few yards from the barn door.
He glanced over his shoulder. Ella was right behind him.
Just as he turned back, a flash of lightning hit the ground right in front of them.
Samuel’s horse just stood still. He was seasoned and would do well in battle.
But not Peaches. Peaches reared up again, her front legs thrashing in front of her.
The reins slipped out of Samuel’s hands and when Peaches landed, she took off at a bolt.
It would have been hard for an experienced rider to hold on, much less someone like Ella who had limited experience with horses.
It all happened so fast.
Samuel slid off his horse, but Ella was already on the ground.
The rain rushed over them.
“Ella.” He knelt next to her, but her eyes were closed and she was limp.
He gathered her close, trying to shelter her from the rain.
But it was too much.
He needed to get her inside.
27
Ella’s eyes opened for a moment.
It was storming. Sheets of rain coming down. A flash of lightning. Thunder.
Someone… it had to be Samuel… was running…carrying her in his arms.
She blinked against the blinding rain, but she couldn’t make out anything.
She fisted a hand in Samuel’s shirt.
The wind whipped, tossing leaves and sticks at them.
Something stung her cheek.
Everything was a blur. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember.
There had been a horse.
A streak of lightning.
Then pain.
Samuel slipped in the mud, but caught himself before he fell.
He kept running.
She pressed her cheek against his sodden shirt.
Then suddenly the rain stopped.
She smelled horses. Recognized the scent of the barn.
They were in the barn.
Safe.
She was safe.
Her eyes fluttered closed again.
Whatever had happened. Would happen. Samuel would take care of her.
But her mind refused to rest.
Her thoughts moved from safe into memories of that night so long ago.
It had been a rainy night. Much like now.
Storming.
She’d asked Thomas not to come. The weather girl had warned everyone to stay off the roads.
No one who lived in Mississippi knew how to drive on ice.
But he was determined.
He was determined to get to her house.
And not even the worst winter weather in years, maybe in this century even, could keep him away.
So she’d said goodbye and although she’d asked him not to come, she’d gone to the front window, the one with the window seat, and curled up to wait for him.
When Thomas said he was going to do something, he did it.
So she waited. Mother had been in the back making lunch. She made Ella’s favorite. Homemade spaghetti.
Thomas would be there in time for lunch.
Everything was going to be perfect today.
Thomas would spend the day. They would watch a movie. Maybe sneak up to her room and make out.
That night, they would have birthday cake. Her grandparents would be there.
It was supposed to have been a special day. A wonderful day.
But it turned out to be the worst day of her life.
Her birthday.
The day Thomas had been killed.
The memory that Ella kept carefully locked away tore through her mind much like the storm that raged outside the barn.
But it was more than she could bear.
It overwhelmed her senses.
And her mind did the only thing it knew to do to protect her from the pain.
It shut down.
28
Samuel grabbed a blanket—a coarse horse blanket—from across one of the stalls and wrapped Ella in it.
She was unconscious, but she was breathing easily.
He rubbed her arms and dried her off as best he could. But since she was soaked through just as he was, it did little good.
Finally, he just pulled her close to him and gently rocked her.
He murmured her name, his breath against her soft skin.
His thoughts raced in a hundred different directions.
He needed to find the horses and bring them into the barn.
He needed to send for the doctor.
For once he should have listened to John and sent for the doctor.
If he’d sent for Doc, Doc would be on his way now.
But no, he’d thought he had everything under control.
Now nothing was under control.
Ella’s life teetered on the edge.
Why was no one else here in the barn?
Where was the new stable hand?
Everyone had taken shelter from the storm.
It was up to him to keep Ella safe.
To get her through this.
He took a deep calming breath.
Then he began to meticulously feel for broken bones.
Under other circumstances, running his hands over her body would have had a much different meaning.
But not now.
Now her life may depend on it.
But he felt no broken bones.
She may have sustained internal injuries and even a head injury.
Those he wouldn’t be able to see.
No one would. Probably not even Doc.
He could hear Doc now. He would say that she needed to rest. That it was up to her to fight her way back.
That there was nothing he could do. Nothing anyone could do.
But Samuel refused to believe that.
Even though Doc wasn’t there and Ella’s prognosis was imagined, he vowed to do whatever he could for her.
He needed to get her back to the house.
But not in this storm.
They were saf
er riding this storm out here in the stables.
He gathered her up again and took her to a stall with fresh hay. Laid her down gently.
He brushed the hair out of her face.
She was more beautiful than any creature he’d ever imagined. Like a siren calling to him, he couldn’t look away.
The storm raged all around them, but they were safe.
He kissed her on the cheek and willed her to wake up.
29
Ella woke in the middle of the night. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness broken only by the faint glow of moonlight.
She lay on a bed in a strange, yet vaguely familiar room.
Turning her head ever so slightly, she saw that she wasn’t alone.
Instead, a woman sat in a chair next to the bed. Watching her.
Moonlight streamed through the window behind her. She was a beautiful woman. Not old and not young. Timeless.
Ella started to sit up, but the woman held up a hand.
“Don’t,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. “There’s no need to be alarmed.”
“I’m not,” Ella said, relaxing back against the bed. At least not much. She didn’t have the energy to be very alarmed. Besides, it hurt too much to move.
“My name is Vaughn Becquerel,” the woman said.
Becquerel. This was the Becquerel home.
But Ella didn’t recognize her. Another relative, perhaps.
“I’m sorry,” Ella said, but her throat was dry and her words were barely audible.
Vaughn calmly filled a glass with water from a pitcher next to the bed.
Leaning forward, she put a hand behind Ella’s head and held the water to her lips.
The cool water quenched a thirst Ella didn’t know she had.
“Thank you,” she said after Vaughn carefully removed her hand.
“You had quite a fall,” Vaughn said.
Ella tried to focus. There had been a storm. And a horse.
“Samuel.” Ella said, feeling a jolt.
A smile tugged at Vaughn’s lips.
“Yes. Samuel.”
Ella glanced around.
“Do you know where you are?” Vaughn asked.
“At the Becquerel home.”
A smile tugged at Vaughn’s lips. “I guess a more accurate question do you know when you are?”
Ella pressed her fingertips against her forehead.
Images of the pass few days flashed through her mind.
Coming here to look for Daniel.
Finding the little piece of telescope glass on the ground.
Being caught in the rain. Drenched.
Samuel taking her in.
Then the conversation with Samuel that led to the realization that she had somehow traveled into the past.
A flurry of fuzzy memories.
Samuel carrying her into the stables. The scent of hay mixed with rain.
His lips against hers.
Had that actually happened? Or had she only imagined it?
“In the past,” she said. “1861.”
Vaughn nodded. “Yes.” Then she took a deep breath.
“You need to be prepared to make a choice,” she said.
Ella tried to sit up again and Vaughn didn’t try to stop her this time. “What kind of choice?”
“You’ll know when it’s time.”
“How do you know me?” Ella asked.
Vaughn placed a hand gently on Ella’s.
“Let me just say that I’ve studied time and timelines.”
“Then please,” Ella said. “tell me how this works.”
Vaughn removed her hand and shook her head.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to that. I can only tell you what I’ve observed.”
Ella waited, barely daring to breath.
“I think there are many different timelines,” Vaughn said. “Somehow they all interconnect, but that’s not what I’ve figured out.”
“What have you figured out?”
“The how has something to do with a spell made by an old Indian a long, long time ago to save my life. But the how isn’t what’s important.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve figured out the why.”
The sound of the grandfather clock chiming the hour drifted from downstairs.
“I must hurry,” Vaughn said with a quick glance over her shoulder.
Ella, sitting up now, leaned forward toward Vaughn. “Why?” she whispered.
“True love,” Vaughn said. “The time travel brings together two people from two different time lines who are meant to be together.”
“But…” Ella had so many questions. True love?
“So,” Vaughn said. “The time will come when you decide if you want to live out your life with nothing more than memories. Or. If you want to choose a life with a living breathing man who loves you. In this time.”
Ella just stared at Vaughn. How could she know all these things?
Vaughn smiled again.
“I know,” she said. “Sometimes a woman can love more than one man. But your choice is different from mine.”
The clock’s chimes echoed through the house.
Midnight.
It was midnight.
“I must go,” Vaughn said.
“But—”
Ella watched as Vaughn slowly faded. Then vanished.
Her eyes wide, she held out a hand.
Then she sat up on the edge of the bed.
She hadn’t imagined it. The woman—Vaughn—had really been there.
But now she was gone.
Ella’s feet hit the floor just as Samuel stepped into the bedroom.
30
“What are you doing?” Samuel asked, rushing toward Ella.
She was trying to stand up, but she looked much too unsteady.
He’d only stepped out for a few minutes to get a fresh pale of water and a platter of cheese and bread.
The water was for the cloth he’d kept on her forehead since he’d brought her in from the stable after the storm passed. And the platter of food was in case she woke up and was hungry.
He hadn’t expected her to be trying to stand up.
She’d been unconscious since the moment she’d fallen off the horse. And truthfully, he’d feared for her life.
He guided her back onto the bed, picking up her knees and sliding them over into the bed.
Her eyes held a haunted look.
Though she wouldn’t look at him, her face held a mixture of confusion and a blankness that frightened him.
She looked like she’d seen a ghost.
He tucked her back beneath the covers.
“You had quite a fall,” he said.
She jerked her gaze to his.
“So I’ve heard,” she said.
“What?” He looked around quickly, but didn’t see anyone in the shadows. “Has someone been here?”
It was the middle of the night. No one should be up, much less coming into her bedroom. His first thought was his brother. John had a tendency to break rules.
Ella laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes.
“I need to think,” she said.
Samuel sat on the edge of the bed and placed a damp cloth on her forehead.
Pots and kettles.
It wasn’t lost on him that he was the one breaking rules.
If anyone saw him sitting on her bed, her reputation would be ruined.
And he’d have to marry her.
Just for sitting next to her.
But would that be so bad?
Was he unconsciously angling for an excuse to marry her?
He shook off the thought.
His mother and father would never approve such a marriage. They knew nothing about Ella. And as the oldest son, Samuel was expected to marry for the benefit of the family.
Not for love.
He flipped the cloth over and she opened her eyes.
She still looked troubled, but much calmer.
> “Who was here?” he asked softly.
She blinked several times and glanced to her right toward the empty chair.
“Do you know a lady by the name of Vaughn?” she asked.
31
The next afternoon, Ella sat with Samuel on the balcony outside her room.
They sat side by side with a little table in front of them.
Samuel had brought lemonade and some kind of delightful cookies.
She’d gone back to sleep, so they hadn’t talked anymore about Vaughn last night.
In retrospect, he’d done an excellent job of evading her question about Vaughn.
She hadn’t minded because she’d really only wanted to go back to sleep.
And she’d slept for well over twelve hours.
But now, in the light of day, she had a clear memory of Vaughn sitting beside her bed.
And she had a clear image of Vaughn vanishing right in front of her eyes.
“Vaughn is sort of a legend,” Samuel said, picking up one of the cookies.
“She’s like a ghost or something?” she asked.
Samuel glanced at her sharply, shaking his head. “No.”
But he didn’t explain.
“So, she’s a real person.” Ella was wearing another of the dresses from the wardrobe.
This one was a dark gray light cotton dress with a high collar and long sleeves. Whoever these clothes had belonged to before must have been nearly exactly Ella’s size. The dress fit almost as though it had been made for her.
Samuel, in his usual manner, had given her a vague answer about the clothes being cast off from other family members.
Ella knew that the dresses did not belong to his sister Beatrice. Beatrice was several inches shorter than Ella so any of her dresses would have been too short for Ella.
Samuel finished his cookie and dusted off his hands. “Vaughn doesn’t live here,” he said.
Ella nodded slowly. “Is she your grandmother or an aunt?”
Samuel stretched out his legs and looked off down the road toward the river.
“More like a great-great-great grandmother. I’m not sure how many greats, but she goes a long way back.”
Ella forced a smile. She was missing something.
“How is that?” she asked.
“She was born in the 1700s.”
Ella did some quick math. Vaughn had not looked that old.
When the Moon Falls Page 6