Time Will Tell (Timeless Series)

by Loyd, Sandy

  “Now we move over there because we scared all the fish away.” At the spot he’d indicated, both plopped down. When Libby removed her boots and laid them on a flat rock in the sun, so did Nathan.

  He put a worm on the hook for her and showed her how to toss the line out. He spent a moment explaining how to hook a fish if she caught one, which wasn’t her goal, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “So, tell me about the future,” Nathan said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “What’s it like?”

  “Not much different than here. I have a best friend. We’re sworn confidants, just like us.” A vague memory of praying to see her mom again before going to sleep entered her consciousness just then. It happened on that first night she’d returned home after spending two therapeutic weeks at Twin Oaks. “Actually, I think I may have traveled through time before.” The memory sharpened. Could it have been real? Looking around, Libby wondered. Bev had believed it hadn’t been a dream. Plus, she had wished to see her mother again at least a hundred times in those two weeks. Maybe the trees had made it possible back then, too.

  “So you are magical!” Nathan’s eyes grew as big as saucers.

  “I guess I am.” She was here, wasn’t she?

  “Yer so lucky. I wish I could do that.”

  “I think I went back in the past after being on this very farm in the future.” Her being here now brought the memory to the forefront of her mind. “Want to hear about it?” Maybe talking would help her figure things out.

  When he nodded, she smiled distractedly and began to tell him what happened all those years ago.

  ~

  Learning to feed, groom, and ride the horses had eased Libby’s heartache. Still, guilt tormented her, and her most fervent wish had been to see Liz Edwards one more time to undo her last ugly words. Libby had fought with her mom, and her only memory of the night before the accident was of her yelling, “I hate you and I wish I’d never been born.” Libby’s biggest regret was never getting a chance to apologize. She felt responsible. That because of those horrible words, Liz Edwards had died.

  The night Libby returned home from her two weeks at Twin Oaks, she dreamed of her mom. She woke up feeling weird in a bigger bed. Her pink room had changed to blue, and the curtains on the window were not Libby’s curtains.

  She heard voices. Seconds later she was at the door to listen and recognized her parents’ voices. They talked about having children. Stunned, Libby cautiously stepped into the hall, tiptoed to the top of the stairs, and looked down.

  Her mom and dad appeared much younger. It was too much to take in!

  Tom and Liz Edwards obviously loved each other by the way they interacted. Libby couldn’t look away when her father kissed the top of her mother’s head and said, “I didn’t realize how important this was to you. We can start our family whenever you want.” Then he chuckled. “In fact, we can get started tonight.”

  Liz practically purred. “Oh, Tom, I love you.” They kissed, something Libby had observed many times before, but this scene filled Libby with love and hope. She’d never seen her parents so in love and so happy.

  “Why don’t you go up?” He patted Liz’s butt after releasing her. “I need to do a few things before coming to bed.” He turned to go into the other room, but not before adding, “And Lizzie, I like that flimsy thing you wore last week. Wear it again, OK?”

  Liz gave a throaty laugh. “Anything for my Tommy.”

  Libby darted back into the bedroom and waited until her mother walked past. After listening for several minutes and not hearing anything, she headed for her parents’ bedroom.

  “Go away—I’m not ready yet.” Her mom reached up to take off an earring, obviously mistaking Libby for her husband. Liz glanced over her shoulder and jumped slightly when she caught Libby watching her.

  She sensed her mother shouldn’t see her and didn’t even know if Liz could hear her. Yet, unwilling to waste this chance to apologize, she took a deep breath and blurted out, “I know this seems odd. But I’ve come to tell you I love you. I’m sorry I hurt you and I just wanted you to know.”

  “Who are you?” Fear and confusion clouded Liz’s eyes. She blinked. “How did you get in here?”

  “Don’t be frightened. I’m your child. From the future.” Libby moved over to her mother and wrapped her arms around the shocked woman’s waist. “Somehow I’ve been able to travel back here. I don’t know how, but I’ve been granted this opportunity, and I have to use it. Mom, please remember, whenever we fight after I’m born, know that I will always love you.”

  ~

  Libby stopped talking and glanced at a wide-eyed Nathan. “Then I found myself back in my own bed, in my own bedroom.” Despite never being able to explain Liz’s earring nestled in the palm of her hand that morning, she’d always believed the whole incident had been a dream.

  “I don’t like fighting with my ma either.” No one could miss the gravity in Nathan’s voice as he added, “But I’ll try not to from now on. I don’t want her to die.”

  “Most moms don’t die like mine did.” She patted his hand reassuringly. “I apparently got the chance to say I was sorry.” Libby smiled. “Of course, I told my best friend all about it. And Bev, being Bev, decided that I’d zapped back in time.” Just like Scotty used to beam Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock off the Enterprise. “Exactly like I came to be here.” As implausible as that seemed. Dream or not, the fact that she’d had a friend to discuss such a weird experience with was the biggest reason she’d never give up their friendship.

  “Bev?” Nathan glanced at her with a speculative gleam in his eye. “That sounds like a girl’s name. Is she a girl?”

  Her grin expanded. “Yeah, but not a prissy one, so you’d like her.”

  “Does she travel through time, like you?”

  “No.”

  “Wow.” His total belief reminded her so much of Bev. “I’d love to be able to travel through time just by wishing.”

  If only it could be so easy. Libby sighed. Another sudden wave of homesickness assailed her senses. She decided to be more proactive about trying to make it home and visit the trees every night until she made it home. Hopefully, she’d be a quick study and figure it out sooner rather than later. “Remember, Nathan. You need to keep my secret.”

  “I will, ’cuz yer my frien’ and yer magical.”

  The two fished for a while. Finally, Nathan stood. “I need to get home. Sun’s getting low and we can’t dawdle.”

  “Dawdle?” Libby stifled a laugh and put on her boots. Thankfully, everything had dried.

  “Sure, ya know—my ma says I dawdle when I’m late. I think that means I should get home fast. I’m not sure, but it sounds important so I like the word. C’mon. Don’t dawdle.” His mischievous expression charmed Libby all over again.

  He strung up his fish and handed them to her. She gave him her pole and he carefully put both away behind the bushes.

  Then he skipped back to her. “Here, I can carry those.”

  Libby didn’t have to be asked twice to get rid of the smelly things. She watched him run ahead. He seemed so grown-up for such a little guy.

  They quickly retraced their steps. At the oak trees, she looked around. Dusk was setting in. She had nowhere to go, which brought to mind her predicament. She closed her eyes and fervently wished herself home. When that didn’t work, she glanced at Nathan. “Do you think I can stay with you?”

  “I’m sure Pa will say yes, ’cuz he likes you.” He grabbed her hand and started for the caretaker’s house behind the big house.

  The two walked into the kitchen, and Libby noticed at once how warm and inviting the room appeared.

  “There you are, Nathan. ’Bout time you made your way home,” said a large-boned woman with Nordic good looks—blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair complexion. She saw Libby and her eyebrows shot up. “Who’s that with you?”

  Nathan smiled and said in a grown-up voice, “This here’s my frien’ Libby. I helped
him work fer Pa today, then we went fishin’. He has nowhere to go, so I invited him to stay with us.”

  “Set another place then.” Berta Gunderson nodded toward the cabinets. “Dinner’s almost ready.” Her curious attention returned to Libby. “So you work with horses?”

  “Yes.” Libby angled her chin higher and prayed Nathan’s mom wouldn’t send her packing. “I’ve trained thoroughbreds most of my life. I heard about this place in Louisville.”

  Berta clucked. “You don’t look big enough to do such strenuous work.”

  “I’m plenty big and I am a really good handler.”

  “I hope so.” She sighed, seeming unconvinced. “Gus and Mr. Thorpe could use a good hand.” Then her eyes narrowed and she studied Libby’s face for a few minutes before nodding at Nathan. “We’ll eat in a few minutes. Why don’t you go wash up? There’s a bowl with warm water and soap on the counter over there.”

  By the time she’d washed, the others had joined in at the table.

  Nathan introduced her to his sister, Sarah, and baby brother, Christophe. Gus didn’t offer much more than a grunt when Nathan explained that he’d brought Libby home with him.

  Libby sat.

  Gus handed her a bowl of sweet potatoes. “So, where’d you say you were from?” He had features similar to Berta’s, but was slightly darker in coloring and towered over his wife by six inches.

  “Cincinnati.” Libby placed a couple of wedges on her plate and passed on the bowl. “I came by riverboat.”

  “You traveled from Cincinnati all by yourself,” Berta asked.

  “Yes.” Libby nodded and began to eat, trying to act like a boy.

  Berta took a drumstick off the platter. “Where are your parents?”

  “Dead and gone.” It wasn’t a lie. Her mom was dead and her dad was gone from this time. She then offered the rendition she and Nathan had created earlier.

  Skepticism shone in Gus’s eyes and she prayed it was due to her story, not the fact that she was female rather than male. His wife’s warm gaze held a more understanding glint.

  They discussed more of her past and Gus told a little of his.

  He and Berta were immigrants who’d come from Norway as newlyweds eleven years earlier with dreams of prosperity. Gus originally worked with Colin Thorpe’s father soon after arriving in the US. “In the postwar years of the late 1860s and early 1870s, opportunity abounds for anyone willing to work hard enough to take advantage of it,” he said, ending his autobiographical spiel.

  “You showed some real gumption today.” Gus grunted and took another bite. He chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. “Even still, you don’t look old enough to be on your own, boy.”

  Libby’s chin lifted. “I’m old enough.”

  He eyed her a long minute before nodding. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll try you out in other areas. I sure could use a hand who understands horses.” Gus shook his head. “Thoroughbreds are a touchy bunch—spirited and high-strung.”

  “A fact I’m well aware of after spending plenty of time working with them,” Libby countered. “I’ve trained thoroughbreds for years.” Her voice held conviction. “I’m willing to work hard and earn my keep.” She couldn’t leave just yet, so why not try to get a closer look at Colin’s prized horseflesh, as she was dying to do?

  “I don’t know.” Gus let out an audible sigh. “This is foaling and breeding season and the work is brutal.”

  “Gus, why not give him a chance,” Berta chimed in. “You’re working yourself to death, toiling seven days a week. At least try him out for a time.”

  His gaze trailed to his wife’s before wandering to Libby’s, where it stayed. He appeared deep in thought. “You’re right.” He refocused on Berta. “Everyone needs a chance to prove himself now and again. That’s what this great country is all about, taking and giving chances. Besides, the boy proved his mettle earlier.” He broke off. His focus returned to Libby again and he silently observed her for another moment. Finally he nodded, saying gruffly, “We start early around here. Right now we’re working every day, even tomorrow, Sunday. Be in the stables at sunup and I’ll give you more than a try. It’s backbreaking work, and as you’ve already experienced firsthand, I don’t mollycoddle my workers. You continue to pull your weight, boy, and you’ll have a job for as long as you want.”

  Libby exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Thank you, sir. You won’t be sorry.”

  “I hope not.” Gus stabbed at a wedge of sweet potato and resumed eating. He took a few more bites, then glanced at her. “Libby’s a strange name. Don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone called Libby before.”

  “It’s a nickname.” Libby shrugged. “Short for Liberty. What can I say? My mom was patriotic.”

  This answer seemed to appease him and he went back to his meal.

  But Berta didn’t appear to be fooled. She just shook her head and clucked.

  When the dinner was over, Libby leaped from her chair, intending to do her part to help clean up. While carrying dishes to the sink, she felt a hand on her arm. Libby looked over her shoulder to see Berta shaking her head.

  “You best be getting ready for bed. This here’s woman’s work. You can bunk with Nathan tonight.”

  “I can take him to the bunkhouse,” Gus said. “He’ll be fine there.”

  “No.” A look of horror crossed Berta’s face. “He can bunk with Nathan. I wouldn’t let this child stay with those animals in the bunkhouse.”

  “Now, Berta, if he’s going to be working here, he needs to be with the rest of the hands. They’re not animals. Just young bucks with wild oats to sow.”

  “Ja—you say that, but I’ll not have this child corrupted by those young bucks. Keep them away from him. He’s too young to be around such hooligans.”

  Gus heaved a resigned sigh. “OK, but bear in mind, this boy isn’t our responsibility. He needs to earn his keep or he’ll be gone.”

  Libby watched the entire exchange with interest, only too happy not to have to sleep in the bunkhouse with the other hands. They were a hardened bunch. Besides, she liked this family. She felt comfortable here. The Gundersons were good people. Maybe they were the reason she’d been sent here. To see how a loving family interacted with each other, and to discover what was important in a marriage, so she could apply it to her own life.

  Berta grabbed her hand. “Come with me. I’ll show you where you’ll be. The house has three bedrooms on the second floor. The outhouse is right outside. We don’t have an inside bathing room like the big house does, but we have a tub with a pump that drains out.”

  They climbed the staircase and were soon heading toward a bedroom, well out of range of her husband’s hearing, when Berta harrumphed.

  “Men! They can’t see what’s right in front of their noses.” She aimed her stare at Libby. “You, child, are no boy. But I will keep your secret. Whatever your reasons, it’s your business, ja? I’ll help you all I can. I only hope you’re as good with horses as you say you are.”

  Berta stopped, opened a cupboard, sorted through it, and took out several items. Then she continued speaking while tearing up an old sheet. “You can wear these old clothes. Here’s an old hat that can help with your ruse, ja? Wrap yourself with the strips—they will hide your budding.”

  Stunned, Libby grabbed the clothes, along with a hat that had seen better days and asked softly, “You’re not mad?”

  “No, I’m worried.” Berta offered an apprehensive smile. “What’s a child like you doing out here on your own?”

  Relieved, Libby bestowed her own smile and brushed aside the notion of her just starting to develop. Her buds were fully bloomed. Berta had obviously mistaken her age, assuming she was much younger than her twenty-three years. “It’s a long story.”

  She should probably be incensed over the insult. Geez. Even in the past, women had to have a rack to be considered fully grown. “If I told you, you’d have a hard time believing it. I’ll do my best to help your husband with his work. I am
good with horses.”

  Berta shrugged. “Ja, well, time will tell. I’m a pretty good judge of character. Just don’t make me regret helping you.” Her voice held warning and Libby realized she never wanted to tangle with the woman. “Here’s Nathan’s room. There’s an extra bed since Christophe, his younger brother, is still in with us. Sarah, my oldest, has her own room down the hall.”

  “Thanks so much.” Libby hesitated a moment, then stepped up and hugged Berta. “I don’t know how I can repay you.”

  The older woman cleared her throat and patted her back, offering a flustered, “Ja, just work hard and help my husband. That will be thanks enough for me. He works too much. Let’s take it one day at a time, shall we?” Berta then turned and left her alone.

  Libby quickly discarded her jeans and blouse, and wrapped the strips around her breasts, thankful not to have to rely on the hot vest any longer. She pulled the muslin shirt over her head. Amazingly, her shape disappeared. The old garments resulted in her looking more the part. She’d take her own clothes to the tree and hide them in order to keep them handy for when she tried to wish herself back to her own time. She’d already given it one attempt earlier and decided to try again tomorrow. If this was like her last experience, she would probably be zapped right back to within minutes from when she’d left. Or at least, she hoped so.

  Nathan came in and climbed into his bed, while she slid into the bed next to him.

  “I’m glad you came to visit us, Libby.” His sleepy voice drifted to her ears. “G’night.”

  Libby smiled in the dark. “Good night, Nathan. Sweet dreams.”

  Though her muscles ached from exertion, too many questions kept her awake.

  Her conversation with Nathan while fishing entered her thoughts as Bev and her dream came to mind. Suddenly a wave of homesickness washed over her. Hopefully, she would figure out what she needed to learn so she could return to her own time.

  Libby closed her eyes and prayed for the means to get back home. She missed her friend. Sighing, she hit the pillow. She missed Dave. Heck, she even missed Dr. Bull.