Time Will Tell (Timeless Series)

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Time Will Tell (Timeless Series) Page 10

by Loyd, Sandy

Libby stared at the empty spot that Dave had just vacated for the longest time, feeling emotionally drained, but at the same time feeling relieved. It seemed as if a big weight had been taken off her shoulders. She had expressed her feelings to Dave and had told him what was in her heart. That in itself was cathartic—gave her a sense of liberation. Maybe things would work out.

  ~

  Libby began avoiding the oak trees. After her argument with Dave, she’d felt their pull too many times while passing by them. That alone was scary enough and kept her wondering. It was as if she hadn’t learned her lesson or completed her wish, which made some kind of weird sense, considering she and Dave were still at odds. Still, she had no intention of going anywhere but her own century. How women stood the constraints back then, she had no idea.

  Thankfully, her final days at the store had flown by in a blur, and in that time she hadn’t seen or talked to Dave. Instead, she texted him and poured all of her energies into the farm, as the camping sessions were in full swing. Working with the horses and the children acted as a balm. When immersed in her duties, nothing else mattered. Unfortunately, Dave and her postponed wedding still lurked in the back of her mind, which is why Libby agreed to have dinner with him later that evening. She did love him and wanted to fit into his world. He deserved a second chance to fit into hers.

  Then, there was her dad. Tom Edwards was furious to learn of the postponement. Libby lacked the nerve to tell him she was reconsidering it altogether when he’d practically had a stroke after hearing her news about quitting Dillard’s to go back to Twin Oaks.

  The only person who made the whole mess endurable was Bev, Libby’s rock. Their conversations always steered away from her love life, and the two mostly rehashed Libby’s time travel and the reasons for it. Today, Bev wanted to meet for lunch under the trees. She wouldn’t say why, only that it was important.

  Determined to ignore any and all mental calls, Libby grabbed the picnic basket she’d filled earlier and headed out.

  Bev was already sitting on a blanket when Libby plopped down next to her. “What’s up?”

  “Did anything out of the ordinary happen when you went back in time?”

  The concern in Bev’s tone drew her gaze. Her brow furrowed. “I don’t follow.”

  Sighing, Bev leaned against one of the giant oaks. “Sam’s having trouble forming his trust. Someone contested the property’s ownership. He has to appear in court with proper documentation in order for the title to clear.”

  “What does that have to do with me going back in time?” she said, reaching for the basket.

  “Sam’s deed isn’t just missing, it’s as if it never existed. I believe someone messed with the county’s records between the time you went back and now.”

  Sandwiches in hand, Libby froze. “That’s impossible.”

  Bev’s eyebrows shot up. “Is it?”

  A sense of dread nestled in her stomach. She handed Bev a sandwich. “What’s this someone’s name?”

  “T. P. Smithers.”

  “Smithers?” Libby’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh my God. That’s the name of the guy who rode that horse into the ground. You know—the jerk Colin got rid of. He said he’d get even.”

  “I googled him.” Bev’s earrings danced as she nodded excitedly. “He’s a slick lawyer out of Louisville with a shady background. Not much nicer than your guy, which means they’re probably related. I always wondered how guys like him pass the bar.”

  “Did my going back in time change history?” Libby sat back on her heels, not wanting to believe it. She glanced up at the trees and heard their call—one much stronger than before. Was that why she’d started feeling their pull again? The thought had merit and was worth considering, especially if her actions caused trouble for Sam and his plans.

  As realization filtered into her expression, she glanced at Bev, who gave her a “what else could it be?” look.

  “You have to go back to undo it.” Bev’s expression hardened. “We can’t let Mary’s dream die. It will kill Sam to see this land subdivided and sold off.”

  That would kill Libby too. “How do I undo it?”

  “By getting the original deed.”

  The dread thickened, weighing her down. “There has to be another way!” She had no idea of how to do what Bev was asking, nor did she want to. Her gaze flew to the trees again. Their cry grew louder, almost a wail, as thoughts of what awaited her if she heeded their call overwhelmed her. “I can’t do it,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I’m too scared.” Of what, she wasn’t sure. She just had this ominous gut feeling that her life would never be the same if she did what Bev was asking.

  “You have to.”

  “How,” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

  “Simple. Just wish yourself back there. Otherwise the farm could be sold at auction.”

  “What if it doesn’t work?” Libby took one more look at the trees, and stupid as it sounded, they seemed to mock her.

  “Then we’ll figure out something else, but you have to at least try.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  “Don’t think too long. Sam only has ten days before the hearing.”

  The two ate in silence. Finally, Libby sighed. “If I do decide to try, let’s make a plan, in case something happens and I can’t get home.”

  Bev sat up straighter. “Why would you think you can’t get home again? You returned twice before, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. It’s a feeling. I can’t get rid of it, so I’m going with it. If for some reason I can’t come home, I’ll bury information right here.”

  Fear crept into Bev’s eyes. “You’re scaring me. You make it sound ominous. That if you do go, you’re not coming back.”

  Smiling, Libby shook her head. “I’m merely taking precautions.” Her mother’s death taught her that events she had no control over happened, no matter what. Her smile stretched and she patted Bev’s shoulder. “Your friendship and loyalty mean the world to me. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for. I love you. I’m sure we’ll be sitting under these trees for the next fifty years.”

  Clutching her arm, Bev blinked back tears. “Oh, Libby. I feel the same way. You accept me for who I am. You’ve always looked beneath the surface and seen the real me.” She wiped the moisture at her eyes. “Your belief in me is what made it so easy to believe in you. Here, let’s make a toast. To friendship! May it last through time!”

  Humbled, Libby held up her cola. “I can drink to that.”

  They clinked soft drink cans together and laughed.

  Libby took a sip, wishing all things in her life could be as easy as her friendship with Bev. She looked up at the trees, still feeling their pull, before glancing at Bev. “So, promise me if something happens, you’ll check the trees? OK?”

  Nodding, Bev agreed. “I promise.”

  Satisfied, Libby placed her arm beneath her head, lay back on the blanket and closed her eyes.

  Bev’s voice interrupted the quiet. “So, are you still avoiding Dave?”

  Shrugging, Libby said, “We’re having dinner tonight.”

  “Are you still having second thoughts about the wedding?”

  Libby opened her eyes and sighed. “I’m confused more than anything right now. Dave is trying. It’s funny. It took me threatening to back out of the wedding for him to take my concerns seriously. Why did it have to come to that? Why does it take so much effort for us to be together?” She stopped talking and scanned the horizon, then frowned. “I only wish he believed me about my time travel.”

  Bev snorted outright. “Libby, give the guy a break. It’s going to take more than blind faith for someone like Dave to believe you can go back in time.”

  “You believed me.”

  “Yes, but I’ve always believed in the unbelievable. That’s one of my many faults. Don’t worry. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to.” She tossed the empty baggie that held her sandwich in the basket and brushed a few crumb
s off her lap. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant than being stuck in time or Dr. Bull.” She glanced at Libby. “Answer me this, will you? Are we going to Thunder Over Louisville this year?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll probably be working during the air show. And the traffic’s always such a pain after the fireworks. Why?”

  Bev grinned. “You need a diversion to forget all of your problems.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “While you’re thinking, add this to your thoughts. You can stay with me and we can walk, so we can avoid the traffic. We should go and have fun, even hit Giorgio’s on the way back. Make it a night. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  Leave it to Bev to make big plans on a big day. Thunder Over Louisville, one of the largest air shows and fireworks displays in the country, marked the start of Louisville’s Kentucky Derby Festival. The two-week celebration ended with the Kentucky Derby thoroughbred horse race on the first Saturday in May. “I’m not up for crowds.”

  “Oh, come on, Libby. You sound like my mother. The crowds are what make it fun.”

  “Maybe,” she said, standing and helping Bev pack everything away. Both needed to get back to work.

  Later that afternoon, Libby rode out alone on Thorpe’s Pride before working with a group of kids going out for their first ride. After a good run, the mare was always more docile and willing to go at the slower pace the kids needed.

  Giving Pride full rein, Libby loved the feeling of becoming one with the horse. The wind whipped her hair. Greens and browns whizzed by as they galloped through the Kentucky countryside. Libby eventually slowed the mare, having traveled a good distance.

  Horse and rider eased to a stop at the top of a rise, a spot where she could see rolling hills for miles. The timeless scenery tugged at Libby. This part of Kentucky hadn’t changed in over a hundred years. The continuity of the land was a constant. People came and went, they were born, gave birth, and died, and still the land remained.

  A sense of peace engulfed Libby, leaving nothing of the fear or uncertainty she’d experienced on and off for the past two weeks. Suddenly it dawned on her that this land was somehow her destiny. That thought brought a broad smile to her face.

  Yes! This land held the key to what was ahead for her. Sam couldn’t lose it. Not to something that happened because of her. She no longer felt reticent about what would happen. Whatever was in store for her, she would meet it head on. Libby turned the mare toward the stables and started back.

  Nearing the pastures, she slowed Pride to a walk. She still had plenty of time to meet the kids. As she rode by the two oaks, she glanced their way and quickly wished she hadn’t because their call was more urgent. So much so, that this time she couldn’t ignore it.

  She stopped the horse, dismounted, and led her over to the trees, where she tied Pride to a low branch. Libby then walked around the trees, looking up with full understanding of why they were calling. She needed to return and undo her mistake. The thought no longer frightened her. Instead she stood there, looking up into the new green leaves that were just making an appearance, and accepted the trees’ call, at the same time wishing to be taken back to the moment she left the past.

  In seconds the world turned upside down and she felt herself floating through time again.

  Chapter 8

  Blinking several times, Colin worked to clear his vision, positive his eyes deceived him. The boy was there one minute and then gone. Less than thirty seconds passed before he was back, but only in a different position. Even stranger—he was no longer wearing his sleeveless jacket. Plus his shirt was a different color. Colin narrowed his gaze and watched in stunned silence as the boy went over to the bushes and emerged a little later in the garb he’d worn earlier in the day. He then strolled past him not more than a few feet from his hiding spot.

  Fascinated, Colin stared after him. A dozen questions swirled inside his brain, his most pressing running along the lines of what the hell had just transpired. There was more to Liberty Edwards than met the eye. Since Nathan had befriended him, he decided to talk to Berta about his new stable hand. Berta knew everything going on in her household. What she didn’t know, she would easily glean, once her curiosity was spiked.

  Colin remained in his hiding spot until the boy was out of sight before finally heading back to the stable. Just as he pushed through the main door, a noise at the rear of the building drew his attention. The earlier scene he’d witnessed faded somewhat as he hurried to check on his favorite stallion.

  Zeus greeted him with a loud neigh and one hoof pawing the ground. The horse’s ears perked up and he bobbed his head as Colin held out the carrot he’d taken out of his pocket and said in a soothing tone, “Hey, big fellow. Was that you making that racket?” The stallion nudged his hand and captured the bribe. Colin grinned. Must have been, he decided, since all was quiet. Zeus probably sensed his presence and didn’t want to go unnoticed.

  As Colin shrugged aside his concern, the memory of the boy disappearing and reappearing entered his thoughts again. While the horse chewed on his carrot, Colin grabbed a brush and began stroking and talking about what he’d seen out by the twin oaks.

  “So, what do you think, Zeus,” he asked after ending his spiel. “Am I crazy?” Colin smiled when Zeus eyed him thoughtfully. Then the horse shook his head and neighed, as if to say no, like the horse understood the question. Suddenly, the thought of seeing an apparition wasn’t as disturbing as it had been a few minutes earlier. “You’re good for the soul, Zeus. I’m going to be gone for a few days. I’ll miss you.” Colin put away the brush. “There are several new mares needing your attention, my good fellow. You’ll be busy enough—too busy to miss me.”

  His entire future was riding on all the horses in this barn, but this one was special. So was Asapurna, the mare two stalls down. Both horses were the basis of his prized stable.

  He stroked Zeus’s sleek neck, thinking it an appropriate name. In fact, all of his horses were named after mythological gods or goddesses, which seemed fitting considering their ancestors. Mythology and the legends of ancient people had always fascinated Colin.

  With Lexington as Zeus’s sire, the stallion was a god among horses and one of the best runners he’d ever seen. Four years earlier, when Colin had first purchased the pair from Woodburn Farm, Lexington’s owner, his deal had included breeding Asapurna with Lexington. The result was a little filly he named Fortuna—the goddess of chance.

  Lexington had been a descendant of Diomed, a champion thoroughbred and the winner of England’s first Epsom Derby in 1780; a race that Colin knew was still run today. Diomed’s blood ran through some of the finest American thoroughbreds of the nineteenth century. Having never seen a better champion, Colin saw a sure thing in Lexington. Bred with the right mares, the stallion’s offspring would produce legendary horses. Zeus was one of those offspring. Fortuna was another.

  “Well, good buddy, I need to get going.” He gave Zeus a final pat, then walked the distance to Asapurna’s stall. When he leaned against the gate, it unlatched and opened. He froze as an eerie sensation settled on the back of his neck. Colin spun around and listened as his searching gaze swept the stable. Everything appeared normal and only the sound of chirping insects or croaking tree frogs filled the air.

  Still not satisfied that all was right, considering the earlier noise, he did a quick inspection of the stables. Near the door he spotted a dirty bandana on the ground and bent to pick it up. He studied the red cloth and remembered that Smithers had worn a bandana exactly like this.

  The thought of canceling his trip flitted past his mind, but that meant missing the meeting at the Galt House in Louisville with the instigators of the new racetrack. Colin started back to the house with the intention of finding Gus and warning him to keep a sharper eye out while he was gone.

  As Colin neared the caretaker’s house, light from a gas lantern illuminated Berta and Gus on their porch swing. The couple was obviously taking advantage of the co
oler evening air.

  Gus stood. “Something wrong?”

  Taking the steps two at a time, Colin held out the bandana. “Found this a few feet from the stable door. Earlier I thought I heard something and then found Asapurna’s stall gate unlatched.

  Eyeing the red cloth, Gus scratched his head. “What do you make of it,” he asked as Berta came up behind him.

  “Do you know who it belongs to,” she asked in a worried tone.

  “Smithers wore a red bandana,” Colin said. “If it’s his, the man has to be up to no good, sneaking his way into the stable.” He exhaled heavily and let his gaze roam over the countryside before settling it on Gus once more. “I’ve decided to take the train from Shelbyville to Louisville in the morning. That way I can get back a little sooner in case there’s trouble.”

  Then remembering the Edwards boy and what he saw, he turned to Berta. “I wanted to ask you about our new stable hand.”

  “You mean the boy, Libby,” she asked, clearing her throat.

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. “The boy.” Unable to think of a delicate way of putting it, he blurted out, “Does he seem a mite strange to you?”

  “Strange?” Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face. “What do you mean by strange?”

  Colin shrugged, feeling rather silly for even bringing it up, but he couldn’t dismiss what he’d seen. “I mean, is there anything peculiar about the boy that makes you think he’s not what he seems?”

  Shaking her head, Berta looked away and brushed at her calico skirt. “I’ll keep my eye on him, just to be sure. You can depend on that.”

  “So will I, Colin,” Gus chimed in. “We’ll take care of things while you’re gone. I’ll put a couple more hands in the stable at night, just in case Smithers is up to anything.”

  Thankful to have that out of the way, he smiled. “Good. This mating season is too important to the farm’s survival. I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

  They said their good-nights, and Colin retraced his steps to his big house. First, he checked on his children. All three were tucked in their bed. He stared for long moments, just enjoying their innocent, angelic faces softened in sleep.

 

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