by Loyd, Sandy
Time Will Tell
Sandy Loyd
Published by Sandy Loyd
Copyright 2013 Sandy Loyd
Cover design by Kelli Ann Morgan at Inspire Creative Services
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author at [email protected]. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
For more information on the author and her works, please see www.SandyLoyd.com
This book is also available in print from some online retailers.
Other books by Sandy Loyd
Contemporary Romances
The California Series
Winter Interlude – Book One
Promises, Promises – Book Two
James – Book Three
Second Chances Series
Tropical Spice – Book One
Romantic Suspense
D.C. Bad Boys Series
The Sin Factor – Book One
Running Series
Running Out Of Fear – Book One
New Releases
Deadly Misconceptions
A Matter Of Trust
Time Will Tell - Romance and adventure…a trip to where an American tradition began…
Libby Edwards, a gifted horsewoman, unwittingly wishes herself back in time to Louisville, Kentucky just before Churchill Downs and the Kentucky Derby become a reality. During Libby’s journey in the past, she stumbles upon her destiny. Unfortunately, he’s in the wrong century. In 1874, there’s no electricity, no internet, no modern medicine, no antibiotics—no Starbucks! And even worse than that, women have no rights. Libby has no desire to stay.
Widower, Colin Thorpe, a renaissance man of his time, has big dreams. He is a horse breeder who names his thoroughbreds after Mythological Gods because he has a reverence for past cultures and an appreciation for the unexplainable.
Libby and Colin can’t resist falling in love with each other. After all, Colin accepts Libby for who she is and she understands Colin’s dreams better than his deceased wife ever did. Yet he grasps early on that Libby doesn’t belong in 1874. And because his wife never adapted to the move from Virginia to Kentucky, becoming bitter and unhappy in the process, he won’t take the chance of the same thing happening to Libby. Can these two lovers find a way to be together despite their obstacles?
Chapter 1
“Libby—Libby? Are you listening to me?”
Libby Edwards shook off her daydreams and looked at her fiancé. “What did you say?”
“Come on, Libby. Stay focused.” He frowned. “You’re miles away. I might as well not even be in the car.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired from helping Mrs. Meyers move into a retirement home today. I wasn’t expecting to go out tonight.”
“You’re on your feet all the time at work. You should relax and not help neighbors on your day off.”
“The poor woman has no one else.” His comment confused her, considering his main reason for practicing medicine—to help people—was what she loved most about Dave.
“Well, you can relax now.” He patted her thigh. “An evening at the opera should do the trick.”
Libby offered a slight smile, wishing she didn’t hate opera. “You’re so sweet.” Where was the Enterprise when she needed it most? Oh, how she’d loved to have Scotty beam her up so she wouldn’t have to endure another night of Dave’s surprises. Last week, it was a new wave art show that she had no interest in. Why couldn’t he be content to just watch a ball game on TV on Sunday night? Once she started analyzing the reasons, she couldn’t stop, which lead to more analyzing, ending at her relationship with Dave. In the last month, he’d started on this kick to do more with his friends. “Which isn’t working,” she said, thinking out loud.
“What’s not working?” He glanced at her, those soulful brown eyes narrowing.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I feel as if your friends don’t like me. That I’m not good enough.” Or maybe she lacked something. The niggling feeling kept returning. The more she was with his group of friends, the more she wondered if she’d ever feel comfortable around them. She’d always led a simple life, and the hoity-toity stuff they were into didn’t interest her.
“You just need to be a little friendlier.”
“Maybe.” She moved to look out the window without seeing the streets of Louisville whiz by. She could do somersaults in an attempt to please them and they would still ignore her.
“You worry too much.” Dave shook his head, dismissing her concern. “You have nothing to fear. You’re about to become a doctor’s wife. You’ll do fine.”
His smug tone drew her gaze and Libby could only stare at him, dumbfounded. Did he really believe that marriage to him would make up for their differences? Did Dave find her lacking, like the wives of his friends obviously did? Those women treated her as if she had a contagious disease. With only three months to go before their wedding, was being a doctor’s wife what she really wanted? She’d never really thought about it before, but now doubts assailed her. The knot, already in the pit of her stomach, tightened.
The car stopped. A valet opened Libby’s door, saving her from further commentary. She climbed out of the expensive BMW and waited briefly as Dave ran around to her side to escort her into the Kentucky Center for the Arts.
“Maybe if you didn’t hang around with Bev so much, you’d fit in better with my friends and their wives.” A disapproving look passed over his face as he reached the top step. “She’s too wild—not the kind of influence you should be subjecting yourself to.”
“I don’t understand why you don’t like her.” Sure, Bev moved to a different beat. After all, she was one of those Trekkies who wouldn’t miss a Star Trek convention, but so what? Libby loved her, despite their differences. “You’ve never given her a chance,” she defended. Unfortunately, her best friend didn’t like Dave either. The two repelled each other worse than Cutters did a mosquito and Libby felt stuck in the middle, always playing referee.
“I merely wish you wouldn’t spend so much time with her.” Dave took her hand and placed it in his bent elbow after entering the double glass doors.
“You know, I don’t tell you who your friends should be.” Libby just couldn’t seem to make him understand. An important part of Libby’s life, their friendship went all the way back to her teens, to just after her mom’s fatal car accident. Bev Jorgensen was like a sister. Her only family besides her dad, and Libby couldn’t imagine a life without her.
“That’s because my friends are respectable. Don’t look like Kewpie dolls,” Dave said as if he were espousing some momentous secret to life and happiness. “Nor do they have tattoos or weird body piercings. I can assure you, they’re all upstanding pillars of the community.”
Please, Scotty, beam me up! Where was that damn ship when she needed it most?
“Take John Miller and Terrance Young. They both have beautiful wives with thriving careers. You should try harder to make friends with them. Bev’s a little crass. I can’t believe you let her get away with calling me Dr. Bull.”
“Yeah, yeah! I know. They’re doctors’ wives who walk on water.” She didn’t add that, lately, there were times—like right now—when she wholeheartedly agreed with Bev’s nickname. Dr. David R. Phil
lips could definitely be full of it, especially when it came to his friends. “It’s hard to hang with those two when I feel uncomfortable around them.”
“You need to relax and just be yourself. They’ll come to like you. Give it time.”
Libby stiffened. “I have given it time.” She exhaled a long sigh and pasted a smile on her face, wishing he’d take her feelings on the subject a little more seriously.
He didn’t answer as they found their seats.
When the curtain finally closed after a long, drawn-out show, Libby heaved a sigh of relief. She rubbed her temples in an effort to ease her splitting headache. All she wanted to do was go home, take some aspirin, and climb into bed. Instead, once they hit the lobby, Dave spotted Dr. Terrance Young and his wife, along with the other couple.
Libby groaned when he caught her hand and headed straight for them. “Terry…John…wait up.”
“Why, Libby.” Candace Young’s nod indicated her mother’s brooch. “Is that a bee?”
“Yes.” Libby fingered it and smiled. “I cherish this pin.” She felt closer to her mom when she wore it.
“How nice.” Her tone said otherwise. “And it matches that lovely dress.” She glanced at Victoria Miller and smirked. “I thought it the perfect color for your complexion the last time you wore it.”
Libby looked down at her favorite gown—one that even on sale and with her discount cost a week’s salary. So what if she’d worn it more than once? Was that a crime? Her gaze moved higher. Her smile deepened as she eyed the two women she secretly thought of as the Stepford wives. Victoria and Candace appeared much as they always did. Too perfect. Too polished. And definitely too phony to wear something twice, even if they liked it.
Dave cleared his throat. “It’s a beautiful pin and I love that dress.”
She glanced at him. A hint of pink flooded his face. Oh my God! He’s trying to smooth over my gaffe, she realized. Does he see me as gauche and unsophisticated? Her smile died as more concerns about her not ever fitting in with his friends or his lifestyle came to mind. She was a simple person at heart. Until recently, she’d thought that was something they shared. But lately?
“We were just heading to McVey’s,” Terry said about a trendy bar up the street, interrupting the uncomfortable silence. “Would you like to join us?”
“Sounds great,” Dave said too quickly, paying no attention to her surprised look. With his hand on the small of her back, he fell into step with the others.
Libby followed, even adding a comment now and then that everyone but Dave totally ignored.
The entire time she walked, Bev’s concern about Libby changing to fit into the mold of what Dave needed as a partner filled her thoughts. It seemed Libby Edwards was disappearing right in front of her eyes.
Maybe that’s how it was for Victoria and Candace, before they became Stepford wives.
At the bar she nursed a drink, mulling over her predicament. She didn’t like Dave’s friends any more than they liked her.
The drive back to her apartment was quick. He parked and then looked at her, seeming only now to notice her silence. “You’re awfully quiet. Is something wrong?”
“I had a busy day and I’m beat. I wish you would’ve asked me if I wanted to go to that bar before you accepted their invitation.”
“Why? We agreed that we need to socialize more. You’ll never get them to accept you unless you show an interest and do things with them.”
No. She hadn’t agreed. She just hadn’t disagreed.
Dave waved her reservations away as if his explanation solved the problem. “Listen, I don’t have to be at the hospital until ten in the morning. Why don’t I spend the night? There are some things I’d like to discuss.”
Libby’s hands fisted to the point of pain when her nails dug into her palms. If only she were a more superficial person, they’d like her. Flexing her fingers, Libby sighed and swallowed her aggravation. Still, she had no intention of listening to a lecture about how to win over women like Victoria and Candace.
“Can we do it another time? I’m tired and have a headache. Plus, I have an early morning meeting at the store.” She closed her eyes and tried to soften her refusal with a smile. “If you’d given me your schedule, I wouldn’t have planned the meeting.” Actually, Libby planned to go in to work early so she could take a long break to have breakfast with Bev. Yet, if she relayed that information, he’d spend another hour trying to convince her to cancel.
Dave shrugged and ushered her out of the car. At her door, he kissed her good night—a quick peck on the lips—and soon drove away, blissfully unaware of how much Libby’s misgivings bothered her.
At that moment, all her fears about the future and what it would really be like being married to him flooded her thoughts. Did she really want to turn into a Stepford wife?
Her shoulders slumped and she blinked back tears. Dave loved her and she loved him, but obviously love wasn’t enough.
~
“Here you are, ma’am,” Libby said to an unhappy customer who refused to be placated. This was the third time she’d assembled a boxed lamp. If this one had some imagined flaw, she’d just have to lose the sale because there were no more in stock.
“That’s it,” a voice said from behind her. “I want that lamp.”
“This one is mine.” The old biddy clutched the rod so close to her chest the lampshade almost fell off. “Ms. Edwards brought it from the stock room specifically for me.” She then took her charge card out of her purse and waved it, indicating the others off to the side. “But there are three more to choose from.”
Taking the card, Libby nodded to Bev and gave a quick wink that her customer couldn’t see. “I’ll be right with you as soon as I finish with this lady.”
Bev winked back. “No problem.” She placed one of the discarded lamps next to the register. “I like this one, but I also want to look around.”
Libby rang up the sale and watched the demanding customer leave in a self-righteous haze of happiness. “Probably to bug another manager,” she said under her breath as Mrs. Thompson didn’t like having mere salespeople wait on her. An image of Victoria and Candace in twenty years appeared in her mind’s eye. Would they become self-absorbed older women? Would she, if she married Dave? As she rushed over to Bev and gave her a hug, the thought added to all her other misgivings. “Thanks for rescuing me. How’d you know she’d buy it if you wanted it?”
“Classic human behavior of a selfish person. Think of a three-year-old who may not want a toy, but doesn’t want anyone else to have it either.”
“I wish I could ignore people like her.” Dealing with the Mrs. Thompsons of the world always put her in a funk. They seemed to come out in droves during a sale. She sighed, glancing around at a room full of lamps feeling even more down. “My group sales manager is always on me to make my displays look fresh. How in the heck am I supposed to make lamps look fresh? Put bows on them?”
“I have a solution.” Bev laughed and her oversized earrings bounced as her head bobbed slightly. “A job opportunity. Out at the farm.” Bev was a horse handler at Twin Oaks Farm, a place that was near and dear to Libby’s heart and where the two originally met. “A couple of hands just quit on Doug.”
She’d worked with Bev on the farm as a teen, until her sophomore year of college when her dad told her she needed to concentrate on her future. Trouble was, after almost four years, she hadn’t found anything she’d loved as much, especially her current stint at Dillard’s. “Do you think he’d be interested in hiring me?”
She couldn’t care less about being on the fast track for a buyer, as her manager kept reminding her at every opportunity, a promotion all the manager trainees drooled over. Every trainee but her.
“Hell, yes, he’d be interested.” Bev’s excited voice drew her focus. “He hated losing you to begin with. Besides, he really needs the help with the season starting back up. At least go and talk to him, then you can decide.”
A thri
ll tingled up her spine. “OK. I’ll do it. I get off early today since I came in early.” She hadn’t felt such a sense of fun in a long time, just another warning flag to add to her list of concerns.
“Awesome! I’ll set it up. You won’t be sorry.”
She left Bev full of resolve. In fact, while taking the escalator to the third floor, she decided it was time to do something just because it made her happy. Not Dave or her dad. Instead of going back to her department, she veered toward her manager’s office and asked for a personal half day. After that, she called Bev to set up an earlier appointment.
Libby spun out of Dillard’s parking lot, feeling like she’d been let out of prison. That alone made her realize it was time to make some changes in her life, and quitting Dillard’s would be the first one.
At her apartment, she quickly donned jeans and riding boots, grabbed her vest, then hurried back to her car and soon was heading east on US 60. Excitement welled up inside her, building to near-bursting proportions. She’d finally chosen a path and it felt like the best decision she’d ever made. Kismet; meant to be. She mentally kicked herself for not acting sooner. If only she could fast-forward the next few weeks, her life would be perfect.
Well, almost perfect. Thoughts of Dave sprang forth. She doubted he’d like her decision, but she didn’t want to worry about his disapproval. Not now.
She tapped the brake pedal, slowing, and turned onto the shaded gravel road leading to Twin Oaks Farm. As she drove, her gaze wandered. Various shades of green emerged everywhere. The main stables and outbuildings eventually came into view. Beyond them, open meadows and Kentucky bluegrass spread out as far as Libby could see. Overhead, giant oak trees that, even without leaves, formed a canopy across the road, hiding the sunlight behind dark branches that stretched toward the heavens.
When she spotted a group of horses in the distance, running together in the same direction, she pulled over to the side of the road. While watching the herd run with wild abandon, contentment warmed her. Despite civilization looming only eight miles away, Libby imagined herself slipping back in time.