by Loyd, Sandy
He then motioned for her to follow him.
Curiosity set in as she walked beside him. “Tell me about this farm. You seem to know a lot about horses, too.”
“Ja, I share in Colin’s dream of building one of the finest stud farms in the country. That’s what brought us to Kentucky.” Gus halted in front of a stall. “This here’s Zeus.” The horse’s nostrils flared and he slowly walked toward the gate. “Colin does the breeding and I train and manage the place. Originally, I worked with Colin’s father. Managed his stables in Virginia. That’s where Colin and his wife were from.”
“Colin’s married?” The thought saddened her, and it should not have.
“He’s a widower.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She sounded more contrite than she felt, which bothered her even more.
“It was awhile ago.” Gus sighed and continued speaking as Libby leaned against the stall post.
“Colin heard about the bluegrass and bear grass, touted as being the best natural food source for thoroughbreds in the US, while in England. That’s where he met Richard Ten Broeck, another breeder, whose horses are considered some of the best in the world. American thoroughbreds are bred from the top English thoroughbreds and other hardier American breeds.” Gus stroked Zeus’s long face and rubbed behind his ears. The stallion whinnied and pawed the ground. “This brute is one of our finest achievements.” He smiled and gave Zeus one last pat before turning to go.
Libby hurried to keep up with him. “Wow, what a story.”
“We made our first trip here together and both of us fell in love with this area.”
Nodding, she understood completely because she also loved Kentucky.
“Ja, I have the best of both worlds. I’d love to have my own farm, but raising and racing thoroughbreds are expensive and risky endeavors. My expertise is the stable, while Colin has the eye for good horseflesh.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen such gorgeous animals.” Other than at Churchill Downs during racing season, Libby amended silently. Every stall they passed held a horse that would be worth millions in her day.
“Wait till tomorrow and you can see for yourself what they’ll do. Colin can trace his original pair’s bloodlines back to English thoroughbreds.” Gus practically beamed with obvious pride. “In the last five years this farm has made a modest name, and despite the fact that demand for Kentucky racehorses died with the war, Colin’s studs are kept busy and his mares are producing champions.” They reached the entrance. “We’re done for the day. Let’s go see what Berta has for dinner.”
Libby needed no further prodding. Her stomach was already growling from hunger.
He held the door open and she slipped past him. “I admire your skill, Libby,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence that sprang up between them as they walked. “You definitely have a gift. I’m glad you found Twin Oaks.”
Looking around, Libby sighed contentedly. If only Dave could see her gift as something worthwhile, she would be the happiest person on earth. A thought struck. Maybe that was her lesson—to realize the value of what she loved to do. If she believed it, then it might be easier to make Dave understand. Libby spotted the twin oaks and smiled. A couple of days in the past should do much to give her all the confidence she needed. Then she would wish herself home. Hopefully, it would work. She sure as heck didn’t want to get stuck here.
With her plan set firmly in place, she followed Gus into his kitchen and was surrounded with the aroma of baked bread and roasting meat.
“Do you need any help?” Libby offered a smile, wanting to be helpful. “I can set the table.”
“No, you relax.” Berta wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m sure your day was hard and long. In fact, dinner won’t be for about an hour. Would you like to take a bath?”
Gus scoffed. “Berta, let the lad be. He doesn’t want a bath. And if he did, he can just use the creek like the other hands.”
As much as she was dying to take a bath, Libby shook her head and smiled at Berta, whose gaze held sympathy. “Maybe later I’ll try the creek.”
After a wonderful meal that was very much like the night before, Libby excused herself. “I think I’ll go and wash up a bit before turning in.”
Nathan stayed right behind her until Berta called to him. “Nathan, you still have chores to do before bed. Best get to them. No need to bother poor Libby. He may want to be by himself a spell.”
“Ah, Ma. Do I haf to?” the little boy said in a resigned voice.
“Ja, and it’s have to, not haf to. You need to practice. People will think less of you if you can’t speak properly. Now get to your chores.”
“Yes, Ma.”
Libby hurried to the creek and let out a sigh of relief that no one was around. She undid the restrictive bindings and took a deep breath. Crouching, she swished the strips in the cold water, raised them over her head, and squeezed. Her body jerked as the freezing drops rolled off her neck and back. This sucks, she thought as a cool breeze sent goose bumps over her arms and shoulders. Her hands quickly grew numb after doing it several times. Shivering, she then used the strips to wash off the stench of the day. She gave them one final rinse and squeeze and began wrapping them back into place. On the third wrap she quit, unable to go any farther. The icy cloth chilled her to the bone.
The entire walk back up the hill, Libby thought about home and Dave and why she was sent here. Uncomfortable memories of the day spent working in the past bombarded her. Finding a secluded spot to relieve herself topped the list of bad experiences. The thought of continuing held little appeal. She looked around at the beauty but only saw inconvenience and savagery. Even the lure of riding thoroughbreds wasn’t enough to stop the yearning to go home.
She changed directions and headed for the bushes to quickly change into her own clothes hidden there. It felt good to be out of the ill-fitting trousers and scratchy homespun shirt. After undoing the icy strips around her breasts, she took a deep breath before slipping into her own shirt and vest, and quickly hid the old clothes in the same spot.
Now at the base of one of the oaks, she stared up at the massive branches. Her most fervent wish was to go home. Please, please take me home, she prayed. Libby closed her eyes and continued wishing.
~
Unbeknownst to Libby, she had an unwitting observer.
Colin Thorpe walked out of the house to check on the horses, a task he’d decided on since Smithers’s hasty departure. A rustling noise near the path to the creek drew his attention. He stopped to listen and quickly stepped into the shadows to wait when it was obvious someone was heading his way. Seconds later, Libby, the new stable hand, walked by, not even a foot away from his hiding spot.
Intrigued, Colin followed, keeping a safe distance to remain hidden from the boy’s notice.
When Libby moved behind the bushes and came out wearing different clothes, Colin’s curiosity rose higher. He was just about to step out of his hiding spot for a confrontation, only she disappeared before he’d taken one step.
“What in the hell?” Stunned, Colin gaped at the empty spot that Libby had just occupied.
Chapter 6
Libby stirred, glanced around, and smiled. Her plan had worked. She actually landed back in her own time. The trees had somehow brought her home. She wanted to kiss them. Instead, she hopped up, ran over to her car, and climbed inside. Libby turned the key in the ignition. As the car idled, she picked up her cell phone and glanced at it. According to the date and time, only ten minutes had elapsed since the trees had called to her, even after spending almost two days in the past.
She threw one last look at the two oaks, put the car in gear, and peeled out onto the road, leaving a dusty trail behind her.
Around the bend, Bev was walking toward the Twin Oaks stable. She quickly parked and hurried in her direction. “Bev, wait up.”
At Choice’s stall, Bev halted and spun around. A smile lit her face. “Hey, Libby. What’s up?”
“
I need to talk to you.” Libby didn’t bother to keep the excitement out of her voice.
“What happened?” Bev’s gaze narrowed. “Did you have your talk with Dr. Bull?”
“No. I mean yes, I had my talk with him, but that isn’t why I’m here. I went back today. After making a wish.”
Bev was in the process of opening the gate to Choice’s stall. With her hand on the latch, she glanced back, her brow furrowing in question. “What are you talking about? What happened?”
“I went back in time. Here on the farm. Not in my sleep like the last time, remember?” She nodded and Libby added, “Bev, it was the weirdest thing. I can’t explain it. The trees called to me. I know it sounds crazy. I’m having a hard time believing it myself, except look at this.” She pulled the old hat Berta had given her out from under her vest. The hat Libby found on the ground next to her after waking up was proof enough, at least for her, that her ordeal hadn’t been a dream.
Bev took the hat and examined it. “Looks old.” She remained silent for a few seconds. “It is just like before, but different. You know. Than when you went back to see your mom. What do you think it means? Why would you go back here?”
Libby shrugged. “I don’t know. But to be honest, I loved seeing the farm in its beginning stages.”
Bev sighed and a wistful yearning entered her expression. “Think of all that history.”
She followed Bev into the stall, wanting to hug her friend for believing in the impossible.
Brush in hand, Bev ran it over the mare’s back. “So, what’s it like? Back then? I gotta tell you, Libby, I wish it had been me.”
“Geez, Bev, I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t talk to you about something so outlandish.” Merely thinking about Dave’s reaction had her mentally groaning. She rolled her eyes, then smiled. “Just the fact that I can sit here and discuss this experience with you calms me. I feel better already.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Bev’s gaze sparkled with curiosity. “What’s it like?”
“Different, yet in some weird way it’s the same. There’s so much to tell you and no time since I have to meet Doug in the other stable. How about getting together after work for a beer?”
Her grin spread. “I’m always game for a beer. I’ll meet you in the parking lot at nine.”
Upon entering the other stable, Libby spotted Doug in a stall housing one of the Montana mares.
He looked up when she approached. “Good to see you. Can you start grooming the bay mare in stall five? I’ll be there when I’m done here.”
“Hey, beauty,” Libby said to the mare as she entered the stall and reached for a brush. She spent a few minutes brushing before Gus joined her.
They worked side by side for a few moments before he said, “These mares haven’t been named yet. Thought the kids coming through in the first session could give us their ideas and we can draw the names out of a hat. What do you think?”
Libby smiled, remembering coming up with a few quirky names as a teen. “I think it’s a great idea, as long as you don’t mind what the kids might dream up.”
“I’m not particular and I’m pretty sure the horse won’t know the difference as long as she is loved and taken care of.” Doug nodded to the mare. “Help me check her foal’s position.”
Libby heaved a contented sigh, positive that quitting her job at the store to return to the farm had been the right thing to do. Still, as she let tasks she loved absorb her attention, her time travel adventure stayed in the forefront of her thoughts, as did her resolve to somehow make Dave understand her dream.
Finally, she looked at her watch. Eight fifty-five. Time to meet Bev to talk things out.
Despite Libby’s long day in the past and an additional three hours doing much the same thing in the present, renewed energy coursed through her system.
Her step was light as she headed in the direction of her car. She turned and caught sight of Bev, who waved and called, “Let’s go to Giorgio’s.”
Libby nodded, an abrupt movement that mirrored her excitement.
“Libby! Bev!” The shout resonated across the room the moment they walked into the noisy bar and grill. “Long time no see. Where have you two been hiding? We’ve missed you.” Giorgio, the owner and bartender, waved.
“I saved those just for you.” Giorgio nodded to the only two empty spots at the huge mahogany bar and proceeded to pour them each a beer from the tap, their usual.
Smiling, Libby grabbed a stool and sat. “Hey, Giorgio, how’s business?”
“Never better, my lovely, never better.” He bestowed a grin showing straight white teeth made brighter with his dark, suntanned complexion. He set their drinks down in front of them. “Especially now that you’re here.”
Bev tossed out a throaty laugh. “I thought you were after me, not my best friend.”
Giorgio chuckled. “There’s room in my heart for both of you.” He bowed. “Now, if you two beauties will excuse me, I have work to do. But I’ll be back,” he added in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression, waggling his eyebrows up and down. He left to attend to the several customers who held up empty glasses at the other end of the packed bar.
Libby nursed her beer and let her mind wander as her gaze swept the crowded room.
Bev set down her glass and crossed her arms, giving her a penetrating look. “OK, tell me what happened. Start from the beginning and let’s see if we can figure this out.”
Libby reached over and squeezed Bev’s wrist. “I knew I could count on you.” For the next thirty minutes she recounted her adventure as Bev listened intently.
“Wow, what a fantastic story,” she said once Libby finished. “Hot damn! Maybe I should try wishing under these trees. It sounds like fun. Just thinking about living in 1874 makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It really is magical—you know, the fairies at work.” She winked.
Smiling, Libby took a drink. Leave it to her friend to veer off the main topic of conversation and allude to her precious fairies and their magic. Bev even had a fairy tattoo. In fact, she had two tattoos, both hidden from the casual eye and both commemorated her beliefs. One, a small unicorn, was just below her right hip bone. The other, on her left buttock, was a fairy with wings and Bev’s personal tribute to their friendship. Bev never doubted Libby’s time travel dream and always said how could she believe in one and not the other?
“Well? What do you make of it?” Libby prodded when she hadn’t said anything else. “I can’t think of any reason I would go back to that particular time in history after making my wish.”
Bev took a swig of beer. She put the glass on the bar and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “I’m still reeling over the fact that you went back in time. I need to think about it for a minute.” She put her chin on her hand, her elbow supported with her opposite hand. After a minute, she shook her head. “I’m coming up empty.”
“I have a theory.” Libby shrugged. “I was meant to see the farm in the beginning. My theory falls apart because there’s enough known about the original place that I already had a good idea of what it must have been like. Of course, nothing is as good as reality. I mean, being there sure beats reading about it in some book.” Just remembering it all sent chills up and down her spine. “The rolling hills, different landscape with a timeless feel, clean air that makes it seem as if a gray lens was peeled away from everything in sight, and the silence of no traffic, it was all so unbelievable.” She left out all the negatives. “I only wish I knew why the trees took me back to that specific time and why the farm?”
Bev’s sigh came out in one long exhale. “Maybe it was some quirk of nature and we’ll never know.”
“Maybe. I still feel there’s a reason. It’s hard to explain. Like I needed to be there to realize why I exist.”
“That makes sense. Do the trees still call to you?”
“I’m not sure.” Libby offered a wan smile. Bev had a way of simplifying things. “I didn’t feel it when
I woke up. I’m kind of afraid to go near them. What if they take me to the past again?” She frowned at the thought.
“You worry too much.” Bev waved away her concerns. “You came back once. So you’d do it again, if you had to.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I did come back.”
Bev set her elbows on the bar and directed her focus on Libby. “You said you talked to Dr. Bull.” Her eyebrows lifted and the gleam in her eyes said she wasn’t about to let it drop. “What’d you say to him? I’m dying to know.”
Libby sighed. Talking about Dave sounded depressing. Then again, maybe it would be good to hash out that conversation. “I told him I quit and that I was working at the stables. He wasn’t too happy. No surprise there. To be honest, he was such a jerk that I also asked him to postpone the wedding.”
“Oh my gosh!” Bev’s jaw dropped, her mouth forming the perfect O. “You postponed the wedding? What was his response?”
“I stunned him. You know, by speaking my mind. I can’t believe I kept quiet all those times he pushed me to do things I really didn’t want to do.”
“Well, it’s about time you let him know what you think.” Bev’s harrumph sounded more like a snort. “Libby, if you’re planning on spending the rest of your life with him, he’s got to know what you’re really like.”
“I honest to God am coming to believe he thinks of me as some kid without any sense.” Libby picked up her beer and stared into the glass as if the amber liquid held the answers to her problems. “That I’ll meekly accept anything he says as gospel,” she added a second later. She took a long draft and shook her head. “He won’t be making that mistake again.”
“Good for you.” Bev clapped her hands and practically jumped up and down.
“I’m not even sure I want to get married. I thought Dave was the one when I said yes, but too much has happened since then to change my mind.” With all these doubts, canceling seemed the best thing to do, but then her trip to the past came to mind and she looked at it from a different angle. Bev was right. Dave had no clue as to what she was really like because Libby had never stood up and let him see the real person. That thought only depressed her more.