Timeless Moments

by Michelle Kidd

  “And staff. It’s rumored that Grandfather married well. I never met her; she passed away when my mother was a young woman.”

  Why would anyone need something so grand unless they were royalty? I craned my neck trying to take it all in. I watched him slide from the driver’s seat to sprint around and open the door for me. He jammed one hand into the pocket of his worn, brown corduroy jacket, and helped me from the bus with the other. His conservative taste in vehicles and clothing contrasted sharply with the grand mansion.

  My heart raced at the thought of meeting Boomer’s grandfather. I clung to his arm as we entered the house.

  “Grandfather, we’re here.” His voice rang out in the imposing entrance.

  The white marbled floor gleamed, reflecting the huge ceiling and chandelier. I couldn’t take my eyes off the wrought-iron banister that led up a wide staircase.

  “There you are.” We pivoted at the reproof, surprised to see a six-foot woman making strides toward us. Despite her considerable berth, she walked with remarkable grace on silent rubber-soled shoes. She struck an imposing figure in white, from her starched nurse’s cap down to her taut uniform. The corners of her mouth turned downward, her eyes hard flecks of flint, as if never experiencing a hint of joy. Steel-gray hair was stretched tightly beneath her cap and gathered at the base of her neck. “You know how your grandfather hates to be kept waiting. Is this the young lady?” She sniffed

  “No, ma’am, this is Audrey Hepburn, I caught her panhandling outside the hospital.”

  She blinked once and flinched. “Young man, is that your attempt at humor?”

  He sucked in his bottom lip and nibbled it with thought. “Yeah, sorry. I guess it was. You gotta’ lighten up, Miss A.”

  “Nurse Albrecht.”

  “Right. Nurse Albrecht, this is Janie Doe.”

  Dear Lord, please tell me she isn’t going to be my nurse. She was terrifying. I felt like a child standing in her shadow.

  She turned giving me a critical eye. “I’m Dr. Greyson’s nurse. We waited lunch for you, which has not improved his mood.”

  “Come, come, Nurse Albrecht. You’ll scare the young lady to death. That isn’t the way we greet our guest.” Wheeling himself across the floor was a man that hardly looked in need of a nurse. Although seated in a wheelchair, he sat abruptly upright. His presence denoted one used to having his orders obeyed. “You must forgive her, dear. Her bark is worse than her bite.”

  I turned to face him, watching him come to an abrupt halt. He drew a sharp breath. His thinning hair just covered the brown spots on his forehead. Lean fingers dropped to rest in his lap. His eyes, a stark blue, regarded me with open curiosity and wonder.

  “Grandfather?” Boomer fell to his knee at the side of his grandfather’s chair.

  The older man waved him off. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He gathered his composure. “This must be our young Jane Doe.”

  “Yes, this is Janie, Grandfather.”

  “Pleased to meet you, sir. I’m not sure how I can ever repay your kindness.” I extended my hand, closing the gap between us.

  He accepted it, raising it to his lips. “My pleasure. Forgive an old man for staring, my dear. You are every bit as exquisite as my grandson said you were.”

  Heat crept to my cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You must be tired and hungry.”

  “Both.” I admitted.

  “Well then, why don’t we have lunch? Would you like to go to your room and freshen up?” He patted my hand that he still grasped in his own. “Betsy,” he called.

  A moment later a pretty, young woman wearing a dark uniform appeared.

  “Betsy, could you please show our guest to her room so she can wash?”

  “Yes, sir.” She nodded and flashed me a sweet smile. “Follow me.”

  I looked back to Boomer, hoping to draw strength from those warm brown eyes. Instead I found a pair of blue ones, watching my every move.

  Chapter 17

  Having been awake for hours, Jewel watch the light gradually swallow up the darkness. Creeping in with the silence of a cat, it ate up the shadows and exposed the room to blush in rose-colored hues.

  The pen felt like lead in her hand. Jewel struggled with the words, wasting several sheets of paper before she could get her thoughts in order. Jack filled his letters with such interesting information. What could she share that he didn't already know? The walls of her world were confined. She tapped the pen thoughtfully before beginning.

  Dearest Jack,

  The news you write about the world wars is quite troubling. Those Germans are such brutes. Someone needs to put a stop to their tirade. I am happy to learn that we were successful in our alliance with the other countries. It is staggering to think that after one war those forces will rise from the ashes and repeat a second war. How horrifying! Thank goodness we are able to subdue those dictators both times. It sounds so medieval. I suppose there are always those that strive to dominate others.

  Without meaning to, she realized she spoke of her own circumstance with Hunsdon. It was the same thing, wasn’t it? Even if it was on a smaller scale.

  Regarding the young lady in your letter, it seems you must be rather taken with her. You didn’t go into much detail, but a woman knows such things. That you mentioned her at all leads me to believe that she must have made quite an impression on you. Anyway, she sounds lovely. I am so excited for you and can’t wait to hear more.

  Which brings me to another matter I wish to discuss. As you know, all in my marriage is not as it should be. It is humbling to admit, but I fear Hunsdon’s instability is growing worse. It isn’t safe for me to remain here. For a while, I have been stock-piling articles. When the time is right, I’m leaving.

  It grieves me to think of going as I know it may well mean I shall never speak to you again. You have become so dear to me in such a short time. A lifesaver if you will, in a sea of madness. Forgive me if that seems dramatic. It would be difficult for a person to understand unless they have lived this life. You opened my eyes and gave me hope. I want so much to thank you.

  It will be some time before I am able to leave. I need funds for a train ticket, although I’m not sure of my destination. Perhaps I shall go somewhere and get a job as a secretary. When I attended Lynchburg High School, I enrolled in typewriting, shorthand, and bookkeeping. I received rather high marks if I do say so, and I’m sure I could remember it if I put my mind to it. That is my plan, such as it is.

  I was most disturbed by the article you found about Hunsdon’s family. Thank you for taking the time to research information that might help me. It goes against my convictions to leave, but I no longer feel I am safe here. Perhaps if I leave, he will seek medical assistance. Although I do have my doubts. I’m sure he would never risk the ridicule of his colleagues.

  Write to me soon. I am eager to hear more about your Samantha Rose. My prayers are with you as well, Jack.

  Gratefully yours,

  Jewel

  She folded the thick paper, lifted the cushion on the window seat, and slipped the letter inside the hidden compartment. Her eyes fell to the numerous correspondences from Jack that were bundled together. The number and sheer bulk forced her to find a safer hiding place as the lid no longer locked.

  She considered the mattress but dismissed it. Addie would discover them when she changed the sheets. Her vanity . . . No, she didn’t trust the easy access. She eyed her dresser. The morning light shimmered on her silver jewelry box. It had been a gift from Hunsdon on her birthday. Large and rectangular—it just might work.

  Jewel lifted the hand-chased lid and peered into the velvet-lined case. Her heart did a little dance as she fished her embroidery scissors from her pocket and snipped along the lining. With nimble fingers, she pulled the facing down, slid the bundle behind it, and replaced it. There. Toss a few pieces of jewelry on top, and no one would be the wiser. She closed the cover and stood back to admire her handiwork. Perfect! And still plenty of time to dres
s for church.

  *****

  The sun’s slanted rays fell short in the early afternoon as Jewel returned to her room. She withdrew the long hat pins from her hair and tossed them on the nightstand. With the back of her hand, she stifled a yawn.

  The Sunday morning services left her lethargic. She missed her father’s church and the preaching of God’s word. She preferred the friendly congregation to the staunch, grand building Hunsdon insisted they attend. People were far more concerned with being seen than learning the Bible and serving.

  She unpinned the brooch at her throat and loosened the top button of her dress. What she wouldn’t give to stretch across the bed and steal a quick nap. No such luck. She needed to change her clothes and return downstairs for lunch. Besides, she would be hard-pressed to take a nap with her stomach grumbling. The aroma of Addie’s roast made her mouth water.

  Then a movement in the mirror brought her attention to the side door. She gazed at Hunsdon in surprise. He seldom used the doorway that connected their rooms. “Why Hunsdon, you startled me. How long have you been standing there?”

  She smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her gown, clutching the cool fabric to keep her hands from trembling. “Why are you lurking in the corner? Come in.”

  “A person finds out many things when one . . . lurks, as you call it.”

  Jewel’s heart fluttered. Everything about his presence screamed danger. She laughed a little too loudly. “Why are you speaking in riddles?” She waved her hand toward the couch. “Sit . . . I won’t be but a moment, and we can walk down together.”

  “I saw you talking with him.” He took a step toward her. He jerked his head in a manner that made that lock of hair sprawl across his brow.

  Her mind darted like a fish trapped in a bowl. What sort of fishing expedition was he on? One wrong movement, one word, and he’d be in for the kill.

  Another step.

  “Don’t play coy. I saw you—the whole church saw you.”

  Desperate now, she recoiled, her leg brushing against the dresser. Trapped if she took another step.

  She hadn’t spoken to anyone, had she? She never spoke to anyone. Always careful. Always discreet. Then it hit her. The stranger, the one who had stumbled into her and knocked her purse from her hand. He had bent to pick it up, apologized, and that had been the end of it. She laughed, weak with relief. Such a reasonable misunderstanding “Oh . . . the young man who bumped into me today? Why, I didn’t even catch his name.”

  “Lies,” he roared. “I saw him with his arm around you.”

  “No! You misunderstood. He only meant to keep me from falling—”

  “Quiet!” The crack of his forearm sent her sprawling into the dresser, cutting through the quiet afternoon.

  Her careening body sent bottles, trinkets and the silver box crashing to the floor as she groped for something to cling to. The box landed with a heavy thud, spilling jewelry and letters across the carpeted floor. Jack’s letters!

  Time stopped.

  Cold spikes of fear pinned her to the floor. She couldn’t hear Hunsdon over the ringing in her ears. Seconds were frozen in time. Only the warm flow of blood oozing down her face spurred her to action.

  Go, go, and go.

  Her paralyzed brain sprang to life. She shoved Hunsdon hard, taking him by surprise. Frantic, she scrambled to the floor, clawing and scratching for the letters, stuffing them into the deep folds of her gown.

  Seconds later, flames of pain seared her scalp. She felt herself yanked backward by her hair. His fingers dug into the tangles, inflicting agony as he tore handfuls free. He dragged her writhing against him, trapping her arm behind her until she felt it would snap.

  “What is this, or do I need to ask?” He snatched a letter from her.

  “It isn’t what you think,” she managed, between clenched teeth.

  “These are from him, aren’t they?” Without losing his grip, he opened the crumpled letter with a flip of his wrist.

  “If you’ll let me explain.” She sucked in a sharp breath as he cinched her arm tighter.

  “Explain? What could you possibly say to excuse yourself?” He shoved the letter in her face. “Jack . . . so that’s his name. He’ll rue the day he ever laid a hand on you.”

  “Let . . . me . . . go. You’re hurting me.”

  “Why, my dear, you have no idea what pain is.”

  “Don’t I?” Her eyes flashed. “You’re so quick to judge. Turn me loose and I’ll tell you the truth.”

  With an exaggerated bow and broad gesture, he released her.

  It surprised her, but it took but a moment to realize he was only toying with her. She didn’t care. Something inside her was breaking loose for the first time. A deep-seated fear splintered from the glacier around her heart, melting in a flurry of injustice.

  “I know you’re not going to believe me, but I’m going to tell you the absolute truth. These letters are from a man named Jack, but he isn’t from here. At least, not our time. These are written by a man living in the future. I came across him in the garden . . . and he writes to me.”

  As disbelief lined his face, she rushed to continue. “I know how it sounds. I thought it fantastic, too, but it’s true. Look here.” She hurried to the window seat. “This is where he puts the letters, and I write him back in the same manner.” She showed Hunsdon the secret compartment. “Hunsdon, he means us no harm. He has the most amazing facts about the future. Please, say you believe me.”

  Dark brown eyes pleaded with eyes of steel. Hunsdon remained silent for so long she almost dared to hope he believed her. But his eyes wavered, taking on a strange gleam and glittered with fire.

  “What kind of fool do you take me for? You cavort behind my back, write letters to this man, and expect me to rely on your innocence?”

  Her mouth went dry at the sight of his hair hanging dangerously over his brow, the flare of his nostrils. She calculated that she had mere seconds to act. Live or die, she determined she would not be the victim. Survival instinct took over.

  She scrambled for the embroidery basket, bringing up her scissors. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. Get out of my way, Hunsdon. Let me pass.”

  He blinked, surprised, before filling the room with laughter. A cold, mirthless sound that sucked the fire from her. “Where do you think you’ll go that I won’t find you?”

  “Hunsdon, let me go. Please . . .”

  “Till death do us part . . . as long as I have breath in this body, my dear, I’ll never let you go. You’ll have to kill me to get through this door.”

  Dear Lord, she didn’t want to hurt him, but she would. Death had to be better than this. She saw her moment and sprinted for the door.

  He sidestepped her, spinning and catching the scissors, prying them from her hands. They struggled. His sheer height and strength easily overpowered her. No, it couldn’t be over like this. He will kill me. Lord, please, let it be quick.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I warned you. Now it’s my turn.” He was behind her. His breath singed her ear. The point of the scissors punctured the delicate skin of her throat as he held tightly.

  “Just do it,” she hissed. “I’d rather be dead than live with you.”

  “Is that so?” Once more he snagged the hair at the nape of her neck, arching her head backward to its breaking point. “I’ll get to that, but not before I make you suffer.”

  With the scissors he unleashed his fury, using the sharp instrument to crop her long hair down to the scalp. Snip, snip, snip. Over and over the metal cut into her tender skin.

  She screamed, baring her nails like claws. Wild, striking anywhere she could. She struggled, landing several deep scratches on his face and arms. He howled but was not deterred in his need to impose retribution.

  “By God, I’ll make sure you never lie again.”

  Dark spirals swam before her eyes as his fist slammed into her face. Stunned, she lay helpless as he loomed above her with the scissors. His face danced in and out of a
murky sea. Sharp pain sliced across her cheek as the tiny, dark swirls sucked her under into an ocean of nothing.

  Chapter 18

  Jeff Danner narrowed his eyes and gave Jack a dubious frown. “So . . . um . . . what are we doing here, again?” He watched his friend cut small sections of the dining room floor with an expression that showed confusion.

  “I’m pulling up the vinyl to get to the wood underneath. We chunk out these bad areas.” Jack pointed a gloved hand to the damaged wood. “Then we’ll feather in the parts with wood about the same age of the original. Maple if I can’t find what I need.” He rested his hand on his hip, giving the job a critical eye. “You’ll see. You’ll never be able to tell after we get this sanded and stained.”

  “If you say so. Looks like a mess to me.” Jeff folded his arms and leaned against the door jamb. “Why don’t you just lay carpet, man?”

  “Are you crazy? Wood floors weren’t meant to be covered. Someone went to a lot of work. Look at the craftsmanship. Why would you hide this beauty under tile or carpeting? You want to take these rooms back to the grandeur of old.”

  “Uh . . . I guess. So tell me what you want me to do.”

  Jack gave his friend a sidelong glance realizing he’d never be able to make him understand.

  “Keep pulling up that vinyl some lunatic laid over my floor. No shortcuts if you work with me.”

  “Aye, aye, cap’n.” Jeff gave Jack a mock salute and returned to the tile. After a few minutes, “So you want to come over after work? It’s Sloppy Joe night.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it, but I’m picking up Sam when she gets off from work. We’re going to the movies.”

  “Sam, huh? You two are getting pretty serious these last few weeks.”

  Jack cut a bad section from the floor and waited for the circular saw to quiet. “Yeah.” He sectioned off another area and sat back on his heels and rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “Sam’s smart, beautiful . . . I got one problem.”