I wince, realizing that I have started an awkward topic, at least as far as Sarah and I are concerned. Julian’s comment seemed to support that her daughter and family had left, but how would I know her name?
I quickly changed the subject. “Wallace seems to have fallen asleep. I’m sure he’ll be fine for a while. Bread and cheese, anyone?” I suggested, and held up the loaf of bread, smiling at the prospect of feasting on non-game food.
The uneasiness remained, but we all ignored it. Sarah brought out the cheese, along with a knife and plates, and set the spartan fare on the table. I didn’t know how 18th century people ate bread and cheese, but I was doing it my way. I quickly sliced away and made little sandwiches, happy to be busy. “Anyone ever hear of mayonnaise?” I quipped, and took a big bite of dry sandwich.
**25 Fathers Revealed
Sarah retrieved the bottle of whisky and two short glasses from the cupboard while I rescued the cup from Wallace’s sleeping hand before it spilled on him. I paused to gaze at him as he settled himself into a comfortable position. He was so beautiful. I doubted that I’d ever seen a man so perfect. He was tall, easy on the eyes, well educated, and very polite. I wasn’t lusting after him—I was just appreciating God’s handiwork. I sighed with loneliness; I was very much in love with Ian and the tightness in my chest reminded me of how much I missed him, even if it had only been a few hours.
Very little was said beyond ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ at our little soirée. Just about any topic—food, weather, or health—would end up pertaining to the war or the men’s kidnapping.
My mind is busy—frustrated, but not panicked—quietly trying to put it all together. My innate knowledge about these people isn’t from personal memories. I don’t remember doing it, but I swear I learned all about Sarah and her family from romantic time travel novels. The title ‘Lost’ keeps popping into my head. I ‘know’ Sarah was born in 20th century England and that she had lived for a long time in modern-day America. She has to be aware of the outcome of the Revolutionary War. Certainly she would have told her husband about it. Jody knows she is from his future, and if she’s told him the American Colonists will win this war, I’m sure he believes her.
I ‘know’ they had tried to change history before by trying to stop Bonnie Prince Charlie from his ill-fated quest to return to the throne of England. That didn’t work. I shook my head: why do I know this? I’ll try and solve that mystery later. Right now, I have to see if I can keep these two rescued former-hostages here, out of harm’s way, and away from fighting for the losing side.
Julian and Wallace are on the wrong team in this war, but I don’t know whether it’s because of birthright, patriotism, or military professionalism. Julian is a British subject and a current or former officer by his dress. Wallace also appears to be an officer in His Majesty’s army—or whatever they call themselves. I just remember referring to them as Redcoats.
Redcoats—that’s it! The British wore red coats and the Americans—when they had uniforms—wore blue coats, their design the same as the British but the colors reversed.
Images and memories are pouring in again. I recall visiting Washington, D.C. and standing at the Twilight Tattoo ceremony, watching soldiers parade by in uniforms representative of all the different wars the United States had been in. I also remember crying when I realized that America has been fighting in wars and ‘conflicts’ and losing men for well over 200 years.
I don’t want to lose these two, no matter which side they’re on. I just ‘rescued’ them, and I feel kind of protective towards them. I need to find a way to keep them from going back to the war and their units. Besides, if they become active military again, they might shoot some of the good guys, the American patriots.
Sarah cleared her throat as if to make a statement. Julian and I looked at her, waiting for the words that wouldn’t come. Her face suddenly emptied of emotion. It was obvious she had changed her mind about what she was going to say. She swallowed, and then tried again. “Uh, I hope you and Wallace have been in good health.” She grimaced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She realized her faux pas, but it was too late; she had already spoken.
“Well, up until this morning, we were quite well, Mrs. Pomeroy.” Julian’s voice had a cold, formal—almost sinister—tone. “I expect we will be back to our normal healthy selves in short order. The bump on the head Wallace received doesn’t appear to be serious. We shall be on our way in the morning.”
“Uh, excuse me, Julian,” I said. “You gave me your word that you would stay here until we found out who kidnapped you, remember?”
“As I recall, I said I would stay here until we found out what was going on. It appears that it was just, well, just…”
“Then you do agree with me that we still don’t know what’s going on. So you’ll stay here until we find out, right, like you said?” His word was the only tool I had to keep him and Wallace here, and I was going to make sure I used it as long as I could.
“Well, I suppose Wallace could use a bit more time to recuperate. I see he is resting well now. This uprising has bothered him quite a bit. He has had trouble with the concept of taking advantage of, and even killing, people in their own towns for the benefit of the Crown. He likes living here and has made this country his home.”
Now I’ve got to try and keep them here—no matter how! These are good guys. They’re just playing for the wrong team.
I leaned forward, placed my elbows on my knees, and with a determined and sincere scowl on my face, peered deeply into Julian’s eyes. “Julian, I need to tell you something about Sarah and me. It’s very hard to believe, but it’s important for you to know so you’ll change your allegiance in this war. It’s a matter of life or death.”
I turned to face Sarah. Her face had paled at my words. I whispered, “I think it’s the only way, Sarah. We have to save him and Wallace.”
“What is she talking about, Mrs. Pomeroy?” asked Julian, his voice still chilly and now indignant.
Sarah gulped, cast her eyes down, took a deep breath to compose herself, then brought her chin up, making sure she looked him in the eyes. “Evie and I are different, Julian. Mona and Gregg were, too. I think you could see that, at least with Mona and me.”
“Well, I did see that there was something different about the two of you. I reasoned your daughter was like you in her bluntness because of the way you reared her. I find that Evie is also very bold and direct in her speech and actions. It is quite plain that you are sisters. I dare say, I would hate to meet with your mother.”
“Both our mothers are dead,” I said.
I don’t know if I just lied. I ‘know’ Sarah’s mother is dead, and it feels as if my mother is, too. At least, she is dead as far as having a memory of her. No, wait, she isn’t even born yet!
I sucked in a deep breath and did my best to get back on track. “We don’t have the same mother, but we’re family of a different sort. Not related by blood, but, Sarah…” I paused, searching for words, “can I tell him more?”
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” she said in defeat and sat down hard on the chair. “Might as well.”
“Julian, would you go out that door if I told you you’d be killed as soon as you went through it, even if you couldn’t see or hear any evidence of danger?”
“I would think you were either rude or mad to say so, woman. I would exit, although I would be on high alert.”
“If I told you that Wallace would die if he went through that door, would you risk his life, too?”
“In that case, I would probably go first and make sure the way was clear. I would not risk his life, although I wouldn’t want him to be a coward, imprisoned by fear, rumor, or superstition. No, I wouldn’t want to hold him back, but I would take extreme precautions for his safety before letting him leave.”
“Julian, Sarah and I know things because what is happening here and now is the past for us, even though we’re living in it as we speak. We are not wit
ches or oracles; we don’t see into the future. We know the outcomes of major events of today because, well, they’re history for us. America is going to win this war, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.”
“Hmph!” Julian snorted, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and turned away from me, shutting me out with his body language and attitude.
“Really, you can’t change the outcome. You see, Sarah also knew Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Scots would lose their Uprising. She and Jody intervened and tried to change history, but couldn’t, didn’t, make a difference. By the way, did he tell you that he meant to die at Culloden?”
“Yes, he did,” admitted Julian.
“Did you think that he would ever leave Sarah, pregnant and alone, to go into a battle that he knew he’d lose?”
“Well, men who are soldiers do what they have to…”
I didn’t let him finish. The newfound memories in my head were organizing and sorting themselves without me consciously thinking about what I was going to say next. It was my heart speaking out of desperation. I wanted, needed, to keep these two British soldiers from fighting against this new, semi-established America.
“He sent her home to be safe, and I don’t mean to Italy. She went back to her time, a future time two hundred years hence, and he knew he would never see her again. There she bore his child, Mona, safely because of the benefit of modern medical science. This same future is where Mona grew up and learned all about the American Revolution and Presidents George Washington, John Adams, and Thomas Jefferson in her history classes. Julian, I understand that this is a lot to handle, but Sarah and I know what is going to happen because for us, it already has happened. And, hey, you might as well be with us on the winning side.”
Julian wasn’t even trying to hide his shock. His jaw slackened when I spoke of our presidents, but when I finished, he sat up straight. He shook his head, physically trying to erase what he had just heard. “No, your story is absolutely incredulous. It is impossible to appear and disappear into different centuries just like that,” he said as he snapped his fingers. “Do not deem me a simpleton, madam, one who would even consider your ‘time traveling’ explanation as an excuse for Sarah’s and your brazenness. You were simply raised in an uncouth and semi-civilized culture, God only knows where.”
“I was born in New Haven, Connecticut, in a hospital located less than a mile from Yale University. I believe the university is there now, but I think it’s called a college. Many famous people have graduated from Yale including Nathan Hale and several signers of the Declaration of Independence. But you see, the hospital I was born in, St. Raphael’s, hasn’t even been built yet.”
Julian puffed out his chest and lifted his chin. He didn’t have a weapon, so I knew I was safe, but he was still intimidating.
“I am not a fool, so do not speak foolish words to me, madam. There is nothing you can say that will convince me that you speak the truth.”
“Well, if the truth is too fantastic for you, I’ll have to try a different approach. How about I tell you hidden things, things that even Sarah doesn’t know, about you and your cousin?”
“I think that you are playing at cards right now, madam, and are bluffing.”
I reached across the table and grabbed Julian’s right hand. I lowered it beneath the table and tickled the inside of his palm, causing his fingers to curl, and then slid my index finger between his thumb and first finger in the imitation of carnal intimacy. “Are you sure I’m bluffing? Do you want me to reveal more of what I know?” I asked as I released my grip.
He pulled back his hand, casually wiped it on his trousers, and returned it to the tabletop. “I don’t think that will be necessary. What is so important that you would think of blackmailing me and my family?”
“Normally I wouldn’t even think about extortion, but I’m desperate. I’ll do just about anything to save your life and Wallace’s. Now, you may not believe me, but Sarah knew the outcome of Charles’ attempt to regain the crown in the Second Uprising, even before he whispered his plan to his closest advisor. She had learned all about it in history books.
“When the time came close, she told Jody, ‘Don’t go to Culloden; it will be a bloodbath.’ He said not to worry; he wouldn’t. He had a plan.
“Jody convinced his captain that he and his men all had small pox and needed to be quarantined, hospitalized. Stinging nettles and beet juice did the trick. He led his spotted men to the abbey of Ste. Anne where the abbess accepted him and the ‘infirm’…and the cask of wine he donated.
“Sarah was with them. She had disguised herself as a young man in order to stay with Jody. But the game plan had changed. She was pregnant again. She and Jody had already lost one child to her inadequate womb; she didn’t want to lose another one, too. She knew that the only way their child had a chance of surviving was with modern medicine. Besides, she knew what lay ahead. They might be able to survive the upcoming battle at Culloden, but times would be rough afterwards, as bad as the slaughter itself, or worse. There would be horrible reprisals, purges, and starvation: never enough food to eat for those left alive, much less for a time traveler—a ‘fairy’—and her newborn.
“Jody agreed that she should return to her own time, but if there were any way she could come back, he’d wait for her. She wouldn’t let him wait, though. She told him to get on with his life and that she and the babe would do the same. He was hurt, didn’t believe that she could love him as much as he loved her, or she wouldn’t have said such a thing. But he had to let her go, and sent her on her way, back to her time, to your future.
“His men were able to return home over the course of the next two weeks, leaving the good sisters and the ramshackle hospital two at a time. But that wasn’t for Jody.
“As soon as Sarah was gone, he was on his way to Culloden…where he meant to die.
“He was captured, grievously wounded, but instead of dying, he was saved by you. You remembered him, right? He was the man who had reached in and pulled you out of that whirlpool when your boat overturned in the campaigns, remember?”
Julian’s stiff back loosened. He had been tense, absorbed with my story, but now that I had brought him into it, he relaxed and nodded. He remembered.
“So, rather than put a bullet in his eye, you sent him on his way.”
Julian sighed as he recalled that day. “I sent him back to his family at Barden Hall. I really didn’t think he’d make it, but I gave him a gentleman’s chance. I gambled and he won.”
“You both won, Julian.” I said. “He became your friend after he was recaptured, right?”
Julian nodded again.
“It wasn’t until events occurred in Sarah’s life—in her time, your future—that she even looked to see if Jody’s plan had succeeded, to see if he and his men had escaped the slaughter and survived the aftermath. She looked through piles and piles of historical documents, with the help of Ramona and Gregg, before she found him in the prison journals at Fort William. Oh, and by the way, thank you for keeping such good records.
“It seemed that time was progressing in the past—your present—and her 20th century at the same rate, so, well, that’s when Sarah entertained the idea of coming back to him. She looked, but couldn’t find any trace of him remarrying or having other children. Their daughter, Ramona, was all grown up, had a great education, and a wonderful fiancé, Gregg. The outlook for their future was rosy. So, if time was progressing at a constant rate, Sarah wanted to come back to Jody.
“She was irate that he had gone back to Culloden, but what good would holding on to her anger do? He was two hundred years in her past…and certainly dead by now. The only way to make it right, to apologize for leaving him with a heart full of hurt—and to smack him for going to Culloden—was to go back. You see, she had been wrong: she hadn’t been able to go forward with her life without him.”
“Then what about Ramona and Gregg?’ Julian asked.
I know Julian doesn’t bel
ieve me, but he still wants to follow my logic. I can respect that—at least he is listening and trying to understand.
“Apparently Ramona wanted to meet her father. She wanted to dash back in time, get acquainted with Dad, see Mom once more, and then return to her fiancé and the 20th century after taking her little ‘time vacation.’ Of course, she didn’t tell Gregg about the plan. She figured, rightfully so, that he’d try to talk her out of it. Well, Gregg was—is—a pretty smart character and figured out where she had disappeared to. He didn’t know why she left, but he loved her and didn’t want to lose her, so he decided to follow her. Lots of confusion ensued after he got here, much of which you already know. They wound up having a family and stayed here in this time for several years. It wasn’t until baby Rebecca was born with a heart defect that they decided their family had to return back to their time—your future. Modern surgery was able to save Rebecca’s life. Now they’re all living happily ever after at Barden Hall.”
“They made it? They’re okay?” Sarah asked, tears streaming and hands wrenching. “Oh, thank You, Lord, I knew You’d see to them. Thank You, thank You…” she praised, and then started sobbing uncontrollably.
I looked over and smiled at her tears and sniffles enhanced radiance. She was ecstatic, and relieved, with the unfounded, inspired—but I was certain that it was true—news I had shared. I turned back to Julian and said, “So, unbelievable as it is, Gregg MacKay and family, two of whom were born in this 18th century, are alive and well in the 21st century.”
“Assume for a moment that I believe you. Why are you telling me this?”
“Because…because…I don’t want you and Wallace to fight on the side of the British army,” I blurted out in exasperation. “Don’t you see? America wins this war. It is still a country more than 200 years later in the 21st century. Slavery is abolished less than a hundred years from now, and women and blacks get to vote. In the 20th century, men will fly to the moon and people begin regular travel through the air all around the world. You can fly across this country—which will have fifty states by then and range from the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans and almost to the North Pole—and do it in hours, not months.”
Naked in the Winter Wind Page 23