by Diane Darcy
Jeremy smirked. “Sure, Mom. That’s what we plan to do. Go right to sleep.”
Jessica grinned. “Yep, we’re practically counting the sheep already,” she faked a yawn.
Melissa chuckled. “Brats.” She climbed down the ladder, grabbed Richard by the hand and led him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go. It’s a wonderful night for a walk.”
Richard pulled her to a stop. “It’s dark outside. Should I bring a blanket?” he asked, his voice low. “You know, in case it gets cold?” The lamplight from the table played over his face and he raised both brows suggestively.
Melissa curved her lips and tilted her head, excitement making her flirtatious. “Why not?”
Richard nabbed the blanket off the bottom of the bed, recaptured Melissa’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled outside. He’d barely shut the door before she tugged him down the stairs.
He laughed. “Okay, okay, what’s this all about? Why are you in such a good mood?”
Because the anticipation had been building all day. Because she couldn’t wait to get him alone and tell him what she knew. Because she was happy he was here with her. Melissa grinned, and pulling at his hand, urged him along. “Can’t I just be happy to take a walk with my husband?”
“Fine by me, but are we walking or running? Slow down.” Richard coiled an arm around her and hugged her to his side as they headed up the dirt road. After a moment, he let her go and took her hand.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, the warm night air still, everything cast in shadow, the smell of cut hay heavy in the air. Crickets serenaded close by, and a cow bawled in the distance.
Excitement fizzled up inside Melissa as she tried to think of the best way to reveal what she knew. Should she just blurt out everything Sully had told her? Ease into it slowly? Either way, she needed one concern addressed first.
“I have a question about genealogy. If a child were adopted, and that child were linked to your ancestry, would that child’s adoptive parents be a part of your family tree?”
Richard glanced at her and she could feel his surprise. “Of course. Adoption is as if they were born into that family.”
She knew it, but still, felt relieved. In Richard’s eyes, Sully would continue to be family. “But what if you then found out who that child’s birth mother was? Then what?”
“That doesn’t usually happen, but if it did, and if you were interested enough, then you’d probably research both lines. Why?”
Melissa stopped and faced Richard. Grabbing both his hands in hers, she beamed up at him. “I have something to tell you. Something that is really going to blow your socks off. You know that book Sully loaned me? The one that belonged to his wife? Well, I found this letter and ...”
Melissa told him everything: all about the Colonel, Jane Taggert and her pregnancy. About Sully, Louisa, Andy and, finally, the identity of the widow. She told him about the resemblance between Jessica and the photo of young Janie Taggert. About the way Sully had confirmed everything. About how both the widow and Sully knew about the time travel. Everything.
By the time she’d finished, Richard’s mouth was hanging open. “I can’t believe this! Mrs. MacPherson is the mother of Andy Sullivan? This is amazing! There’s never been so much as a whiff of it in the genealogy.”
Giddy at his reaction, Melissa laughed and clapped her hands. “I know more than you do!”
She thought about the gifts she’d be giving Richard and about Sully’s gifts. Richard would simply expire on the spot when he found out about the gun. But that was a secret for when they returned home.
They started walking again.
“I can’t believe it!” said Richard.
They walked another half mile on the road, Melissa giggling, and Richard reiterating that he ‘couldn’t believe it’ every few yards.
Melissa tilted her head to look up into the sky. “Half-moon rising.”
Richard glanced at the moon. “The time will be here before we know it, won’t it? Going back home will seem strange. So will getting used to doing everything again.”
“Mmm hmm. Strange yes, yet I’m so willing to try.”
Richard laughed.
Still on the main road, they came to the rise in the hill and Richard stopped her. “Will you miss all this?”
Melissa glanced around. “What, the dirt, lack of sanitation, the quiet?”
Richard grinned. “It is kind of romantic, isn’t it?”
She laughed. “Is it?” she teased him.
Standing in the road, he grabbed both ends of the blanket, whirled it around his shoulders, then pulled her in and enclosed them both. “I think so.”
She leaned in and savored the embrace, his warmth, the excitement arching between them. “Just make sure you get us back. We need to get home. We don’t belong here.”
“Don’t worry, I have it all figured out.” He rubbed his chin against her temple. “On the thirty-first, we’ll go out to Sully’s: to our place. We need to get there before the moon rises. Then we wait, all night if we have to. Before you know it we’ll be ordering take out and sitting in the hot tub.”
Melissa groaned. “And sleeping on a Serta. It sounds wonderful. But what if we don’t go back?”
“We will,” he stated confidently as he leaned down to kiss her neck.
She shivered as goose-flesh broke out on her skin and pulled him closer, enjoying the caress.
A stick broke, the sound loud in the stillness of the night and, startled, Melissa tensed.
Richard raised his head, and muscles bunching, dropped the blanket and pushed her behind him. “Who’s out here?”
A dark shape loomed up. A man had been crouching behind a bush on the side of the road, only a few feet from them.
Fear skittered down Melissa’s spine and she bit back a scream.
“Howdy, folks,” rumbled a deep voice. “Just out for a stroll. Thought I’d leave some flowers on Mrs. Kendal’s steps.”
It took a moment, but Melissa finally figured out who the voice belonged to. “Mr. Jenkins?”
“After dark?” asked Richard, his tone deep, aggressive. “What are you doing hiding on the side of the road?”
Melissa shivered. Was the guy a stalker?
“I heard someone. Wasn’t sure I’d be welcome this time of night. Some of the boys around here carry guns.”
“You’re right, you’re not welcome.”
A horse whinnied in the distance.
Richard’s fists bunched. “Sounds to me like your horse is missing you. This is looking very suspicious. I suggest you find yourself another woman to court and stay away from here. This one is mine.”
“I didn’t mean nuthin’ by it.” He held out the bunch of flowers toward Melissa.
Richard knocked them out of his hand and into the dirt.
Curly stilled.
Melissa held her breath.
Finally, Curly chuckled, then touched a hand to his hat.
“Evening, ma’am.” He turned and headed off.
Richard, still tense, watched him go over the hill.
Melissa tugged at his sleeve. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Richard picked up the blanket, and they headed back toward the ranch.
“Was he spying on us? Watching us?” Melissa whispered and glanced back. The road was empty, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of danger as she imagined Curly hiding in the shadows. The guy had definitely given her the creeps.
A new thought suddenly occurred to her. “What did he overhear? We talked about the blue moon, and about the widow and Sully. Did he hear us?”
“We talked about Mrs. MacPherson and Sully down the road a ways.” Richard’s tone was still hard, his normal casual air absent. “We were in a big open area. He didn’t hear. And anything he overheard about the blue moon he wouldn’t understand.”
Creeped out, and feeling menaced, she hurried back to the cabin, ran up the steps, opened the door and checked on the kids. They were
sound asleep and breathing evenly.
She let out a breath.
The blue moon couldn’t get here soon enough. She wanted to go home.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Melissa glared at the foreman. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think Mrs. MacPherson was avoiding me.”
The older gentleman tugged at his ear and his sharp-eyed gaze dropped to the ground. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know about that, ma’am.” He slid a look toward the main residence. “Have you checked up at the big house?”
Melissa’s eyes narrowed. She knew when she was being given the run-around. She had no doubt the foreman knew exactly what went on at all times in this place. Did the guy think she was an idiot?
“Yes, I’ve checked the house! And the office, the orchard, the corral, and the stables; everywhere you’ve told me to look. I also asked at the bunkhouse, checked in the smokehouse, and I know she wouldn’t be in the bathhouse. She’s not out by any of the cisterns, wells, fields or even in the--”
A rumble of wheels had Melissa turning her head just in time to see a horse and buggy coming out of the barn. The widow was driving.
Melissa ran the four yards to the dirt-packed road, blocked the passage of the horse, raised her arms and waved. “Wait! I need to talk to you!”
The brown horse jerked its head and snorted.
Melissa didn’t move.
At the last second, the widow pulled on the reins, the buggy stopped, and the irritating woman sighed loudly. “All right, Mrs. Kendal. What do you want? I’m headed toward town and I have a very busy day ahead of me.”
Yes, no doubt hiding from people took a lot of effort. Melissa bit back the comment and smiled instead. This situation couldn’t be more perfect. Privacy was exactly what they needed. “Great. I’ll go with you.”
The widow’s mouth pressed tight, but when Melissa stepped up into the buggy, she moved to accommodate her. The moment Melissa sat down, the widow flicked the reins, clicked her tongue, and they were off.
Melissa swayed back, righted herself and settled in to enjoy the light bounce of the springs. It might be a lame mode of transportation, but it was actually kind of fun. “Nice day.”
“Is it?”
Melissa looked up at the blue skies as they drove past the orchard. “I think so. Not too hot, not too cold, the breeze is pleasant and I like the smell of the hay and--”
”Just tell me what it is that you want.”
Melissa’s spine stiffened and she stared at the space between the horse’s twitching ears. Hadn’t the woman ever heard of small talk? Melissa was nervous enough to broach the subject, and didn’t need to be snapped at.
She huffed out a breath. “Okay, fine. We’ll dispense with the courtesies. I would like you to write a personal history, all about yourself and your life: where you come from, who your ancestors are and where they come from. Things like that. Sully’s putting one together too.” Melissa darted a glance sideways.
The widow’s mouth hung open and she snorted in amazement. “I can’t imagine why you would want such a thing from me, or why you’d think I’d give it to you.”
“Can’t you?”
Straightening her shoulders, the widow turned to stare straight ahead. “No, I can’t.”
Melissa sighed. The woman never made things easy. “Okay, here’s the deal. My mother-in-law is into genealogy; you know, researching her ancestry. Richard too, though not to the same extent.”
Melissa took a deep breath and swallowed. “And the fact that you are Andy Sullivan’s birth mother, and the fact that no one knows about it, would be very exciting for Richard’s family. And the more they know about you and your family, the happier they will be.”
There was a very long pause. Melissa, shoulders tight, didn’t look at the widow and wondered if she’d be thrown out of the buggy. She gripped the black seat.
“Sully?” the widow choked out hoarsely.
Melissa let out the breath she’d been holding. “No, he didn’t tell me. I guessed when I saw you with Jessica. She resembles you, and especially your photo in the parlor. I confronted Sully and told him I already knew everything. He filled me in on the rest.”
Silence lasted for a long time. A flock of small birds darted out of a tree and streamed in front of them, only to reroute and return to the tree. The steady clop of the horses’ hooves filled the air.
The widow’s hands were white on the reins. “Sorry, but I’ll have to decline your request. I’m not interested in opening my soul for your amusement. I suppose this has to do with the changing time thing?”
Melissa frowned. “Yes, the time travel. Don’t you believe me anymore?”
“No, I don’t. I never did.”
Oh really? Melissa wanted to ask why she’d cried when she’d found out her son was alive. Why she was hanging out with Jessica. Why Jeremy was coming home too full to eat dinner because he’d been waylaid by the widow and fed? Why she’d been pumping the kids for how many cousins, aunts and uncles they had--if she didn’t believe.
But Melissa refrained. She didn’t want the widow to stop something that was giving both her and the children pleasure. “Please do this. It will mean something to the ones who come after you.”
“No.”
“You’ve still got a week to think about it. A week until we leave.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
Frustration had Melissa grinding her teeth. She knew what the problem was, but didn’t know how to address it with tact. She decided to just jump into it. “Look, you’re being silly. What happened in the past doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that matters is what you’ve made of yourself. You should be proud of who you are and what you’ve done with your life. Proud that you’re helping so many people build lives here on the ranch, and proud that so many love you.”
Melissa’s gut twisted, as she realized that the same logic could apply to her own situation. That she should be proud of who she’d become rather than ashamed of her past.
She shut off the wayward thought. This wasn’t about her, it was about the widow. “Your posterity in the future will be thrilled to find out about the way you overcame hardships and became a prominent figure in the community. They’ll be excited to know who you are in your own words.”
The widow sat, stern-faced, but listening.
Melissa waved a hand. “You don’t have to do it now. You don’t have to give it to me. After we go back you can give the information to Sully. He’ll know what to do with it.”
The widow pulled the buggy to a stop. “Are you finished? I think you can walk back from here.”
Melissa paused. How did she get through to the woman?
“I’ll bet your descendants know all about Louisa. I’m sure they are very delighted by her and proud to be related to her.”
The widow’s eyes flashed fire. “Out. Right now. Get out.”
“You’re worried that I’m trying to trick you; that you’ll look like a fool if you believe me. But if your son shows up in a couple of years, you’ll know I was right. Then will you write your history?”
Wide-eyed, Mrs. MacPherson turned to Melissa and a sudden sheen of moisture brightened her eyes. “My son,” she said softly. “That’s the first time anyone has ever called him that.” She paused, swallowed, then nodded. “Yes. If my son shows up, then I’ll write a history and give it to Sully.”
Melissa willed back the dampness in her own eyes. “Promise?”
“Yes. I promise. Now will you get out?”
Melissa looked around. They were still on the dirt road leading away from the ranch, but were almost to the main road. She’d have a good mile to walk back. “Yes, I do believe this is my stop.”
She climbed down and watched the widow drive away, leaving a trail of dust that slid off to the side of the road. Satisfaction burned through her. She’d done what she’d set out to do. Richard and his mom would be ecstatic if everything worked out.
She started the walk back and wondered
if her life would mean something to someone someday; if perhaps she should write a personal history.
The thought made her stomach lurch. She wouldn’t want anyone to ever know about her early years. Those were private, and she’d never reveal them to another soul.
A niggling feeling of uncertainty dug at her conscience and she wondered again if perhaps, just like the widow, she too should be proud of who she’d made herself into.
* * *
Jessica ran to the table, peered over Melissa’s shoulder and gasped. “Come on, Mom, hurry! Everyone is setting up. We’re going to be the last ones there!”
Melissa whipped the frosting a few more times. “Okay, okay, okay! Richard and Jeremy, you go ahead and take the table outside,” she gripped the frosting bowl with one arm and lifted the cake off the table and onto the still warm stove. “I’ll just finish this over here.”
Melissa spooned frosting from the bowl onto the cake and started to spread the creamy mixture.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Jeremy.
Melissa glanced up to see if she was being sassed, but wasn’t. Manners were rubbing off onto her son.
Richard hefted one end of the table, Jeremy lifted the other, and they headed out the door. Richard winked at her. “We’ll try to save you some food.”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “I’m coming!”
Jessica practically danced around the room. “Everyone is there already. We can’t be late for our own party!”
Exasperated, Melissa hissed out a slow, steady breath. “I’m almost done. Take the bowl of cookies and go.”
Jessica grabbed the cloth-covered bowl. “Do you need more help, or can I stay outside?”
“No, you go ahead. I’ll be right there.”
Jessica left at a run.
Melissa finished frosting the cake, cleaned the knife and cut lightly into the frosting, decorating with little diamond-like swirls the way Emma had shown her. She lifted the pan, headed outside, and walked toward the widow’s house.
A part of her just couldn’t believe their family was leaving tomorrow night. Couldn’t believe how quickly the day was flying by. Church had already been over for a few hours, dinner was finished, the women were done baking, and it was already after five. Time was going fast. Too fast.