by Tia Dani
The boy looked at her incredulously. "You don't remember Matt?"
The name seemed familiar, but she couldn't put a face to it. "I'm afraid I don't."
"He's the one who brung you here. Ya' know, Lieutenant Matt Domé"
Libby had no trouble remembering. How could she have spent two minutes without his face in her brain? "Where are they? Katherine and this Matt, I mean."
"Out there." James let go of the knob with one hand and precariously pointed toward the only window in the room. No longer having both hands to hold up his weight, the door flew open, and he tumbled into the room headfirst.
"Oh, my." Libby hurried over to him. "Are you okay?"
James shot to his feet and grinned. "Yep, never better." He dusted off his shirt and pants. "I'm tough."
Libby smiled. He was an engaging little guy. "I'd say so. You took quite a tumble."
"Naw, I've taken worse. Yesterday I jumped off the henhouse and didn't hurt myself one lick."
He glanced at her father. "Grandma says your last name's same as ours. Are we kin?"
Theo gave Libby a wry look. "Very distant kin, but we're definitely kin."
James screwed up his face in thought. "What's very distant kin mean?"
Libby glanced at her father. How did one explain time travel to a young child, especially one who was from the 19th Century?
Theo laughed. "I'll tell you later. Why don't you fetch Katherine? I'd like to thank her."
James opened his mouth then shut it. Finally, he nodded. "All right, but you promise to tell me later?"
Theo sighed. "I promise, and I never break a promise. Do I, Libby?"
Libby eyed her father with misgivings. "Right, he never breaks his promises."
"I'll go get her." James spun on his heel and disappeared out the door. They heard his bare feet running down a set of stairs then a door slammed loudly.
Libby turned back to her father. "Okay, what are you up to? You can't be thinking of telling him the truth."
"I didn't promise to tell him the truth. I only promised to tell what very distant kin meant."
"But how?"
"Don't worry, Libby, I know what I'm doing. Especially since I've seen James."
"James? What does he have to do with anything?"
A brief smile crossed her father's lips before he answered. "Because, sweetie, if I'm right, James is my grandfather."
Chapter Six
Matthew laid the hammer aside and reached for another shingle. Laughter floated from the yard below, and he glanced toward the house. From the barn's roof, he'd had a bird's-eye view of the area all morning. What he saw itched at him.
Underneath the oak tree sat the large table Katherine used to serve outdoor meals. James, kneeling on a bench, leaned both elbows against the table and watched Theodore Strammon deal out a deck of cards. Katherine, along with Libby, stood beside them.
Matthew frowned. Andrew's so-called relatives were sure making themselves at home. It was going on three weeks since they arrived, and no talk about leaving. Granted the old man was still weak, but by now he should be well enough to travel.
"You plan on using that shingle, or are you gonna hold it all day?"
"Uh, what?"
A few feet away, Joseph sat on the roof. Smirking. Matthew glanced down at the shingle in his hand.
Amusement rang in Joseph's voice. "Hell, I thought the reason we crawled up here this morning was to finish the roof today."
"It is."
"Then do something. Otherwise, we're going to be here way into the night."
Laughter drifted up again, and Matthew turned. Libby had moved behind James. She was leaning over his shoulder and whispering in his ear. The boy held up his cards, and she pointed to several.
Matthew scooted toward the edge of the sloping roof to get a better look. Their backs were to him and, bent over like she was; he couldn't help but notice her shapely hips. He also noticed his hands could span her small waist. She wore one of Katherine's dark lavender dresses, and the color accented the blondness of her hair. He frowned, hating to admit she was one beautiful woman.
Behind him, Joseph chuckled. "For land sakes, Matt, if you're interested in what she's doing why don't you go down there?"
Matthew snapped upright. "I'm not interested. I was only wondering what card game they're playing."
Joseph's grin split wider. "Un huh, and I'm a dog-eared mule's hind-end, too. I ain't blind. You been watching her ever since she came outside."
"I have not."
"Have to. Lookie here."
With his hammer, Joseph pointed at Matt's large pile of shingles, then at his own shorter pile. "Tell me, who's been doing the most work? You or me?"
Matthew frowned. Maybe he was spending too much time watching instead of working.
"So," Joseph asked, "are you going to work or watch?"
Matthew hated it when Joseph read his mind. "Work, dammit."
Scooting back up the roof, Matthew picked up his hammer and laid the shingle to overlap another. "If I'd known you were going to keep score," he said fumbling for a nail in his pocket, "I would've made sure we started out with the same number."
Joseph chuckled and pounded a nail. "You know, it was a lucky thing Miss Strammon and her father got off the stage at the Dead Horse Station."
Matthew thought of the burned-out stage they'd found several miles west of the station not long after the Indian attack. "That's true."
"Sure would have been a waste for a good-lookin' female to end up as some Indian's slave. She's right entertaining once you get to talking to her. She says some of the strangest things."
Matthew scowled. It didn't sit right. Joseph was starting to show too much of an interest in the woman. "If I recall correctly, you said she was crazy and needed to be stayed away from."
"Ya know, I've been giving some thought on the problem." Joseph stared off into the distance and scratched his chin with the hammer. "If'n I had a father who needed help, and if'n I took a nasty bump to the head, I reckon I wouldn't have made much sense either."
"Nothing about them makes sense." Matthew fished for another nail. "They show up unexpectedly, saying the letter they sent ahead must have gotten lost. They arrive with no luggage. A bit strange, don't you think?"
"Naw, remember the fellow who wanted to sign up with the Volunteers last month? He carried nothing but an extra pair of socks."
"I remember. He was a man down on his luck. But Theodore Strammon doesn't act like he's down on his luck. Both he and his daughter appear to have led a very good life. People like those two travel with belongings."
Joseph snorted. "They had clothes. You heard what they told Katherine. Their things got waylaid somewhere between Kansas City and Leavenworth."
"Why didn't they buy more in Leavenworth?"
Joseph released an exasperated puff of air. "How should I know? Why don't you ask them?"
"I plan to, as soon as I can. Katherine's been hovering over them like a mother hen. You'd of thought royalty has come for a visit. She's—"
"You're jealous." Joseph hooted and slapped his thigh. "You're jealous because Katherine ain't been paying you any attention since they arrived."
"Go to hell, Joseph." Matthew picked up another shingle and slammed it in place. "No, I mean it. You've been surly ever since you brought them here."
"I'm not surly." Positioning the nail at the thickest end, Matthew embedded it into the wood with one solid blow. He placed a second nail beside it and raised the hammer. "I only brought them here because—"
"Shoot," Joseph interrupted, "if you're attracted to the woman, why don't you admit it?"
Matthew missed the nail entirely and wacked his thumb. Releasing a string of curses, he dropped the hammer and shook his hand. "Do you always have to say the stupidest things when I least expect it."
Joseph grinned. "It ain't stupid. It's the plain truth."
Matthew cursed again. Without realizing it, he'd turned and glanced down. Twisting
back to face Joseph, he whipped out his handkerchief and wrapped it around his bleeding thumb. "For your information, I'm studying her for a reason."
"Yeah? What reason?"
"I'm trying to find a weakness in their story. She's the key. There's got to be some way I can trip her up. And when I do, I'm going to get to the bottom of why they're here."
Joseph squinted at him. "My pa says, 'it don't matter whether you want 'em in yellow or want 'em in blue. Rainbows are gonna do what they're gonna do'."
Matthew mouthed Joseph's words then grimaced. "Makes absolutely no sense at all."
"I thought you'd feel that way. You couldn't see the truth if it smacked you upside of the head." Joseph tossed a shingle, hitting Matthew in the chest. "Come on, enough talking. Get your mind back to pounding shingles. 'Cause if you don't, this here roof ain't ever gonna get finished."
Chapter Seven
Katherine stood behind her, holding a large empty bowl. "I'm going to the garden to pick some green beans. Would you like to help?"
"I can't remember when I've had fresh green beans. We usually open up a ca..." Libby let her words trail off, realizing she was referring to her 20th century life.
"Oh, you preserve your beans." Katherine must have misinterpreted her hesitation for her brows arched with interest. "I do too. I can serve green beans in the winter, after my garden's gone."
Libby swallowed nervously, not sure how much to say. "Uh...I don't exactly can...uh...preserve them, I mean. Someone else does it."
"Ah, I see. In the east, it is easier to have a servant do it for you."
Between the folds of her skirt, Libby crossed her fingers and replied, "Yeah, something like that."
Suddenly, she realized there were a lot of domestic things in this time period she didn't know much about. Next time she might not be so lucky at coming up with an excuse. Maybe adhering to the notion she and her father had servants to do everything wasn't a bad idea. "You know, Katherine, we...we traveled a lot and always had someone to take care of us. Do you suppose, while I'm here, you could teach me how to cook? I'd like to learn."
The woman's face softened. "I'd be delighted to teach you anything you want to know." She opened the gate and stepped into her small garden. "For years, I've dreamed of what it would be like having another woman around to talk to on a regular basis."
"It must be lonely to be the only woman for miles around. Libby saw the wistfulness in Katherine's eyes and felt sorry for her. "You never mention any children of your own. I imagine having a daughter would have been nice."
"I had a daughter. Her name was Elizabeth." Katherine stopped in front of a large hedge. "The sweetest little girl a mother could ever want." Her smile slipped, and a lone tear coursed down her cheek. "She died along with her father twenty years ago in a prairie fire."
A thick layer of guilt poured over Libby. She hadn't meant to bring up something so obviously painful. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad."
Katherine reached out and patted her hand. "I'm not sad, truly. I've come to accept God's will." She glanced toward the barn. "If only Matthew would accept it the same way I have, I would be content. He blames himself for Elizabeth's death."
"What?" Libby stared in surprise. "What did he do, start the fire?"
"Oh, my goodness, no. He and Elizabeth were picking wild plums along a dried-up creek bed. The fire came so fast they were trapped."
"I thought you said she died with...with your husband."
"John and several men were searching for the children when the fire started. The wind turned. Everyone retreated but John. He went on alone and perished in the fire."
"But...but..." Libby couldn't stop from blurting, "If Matthew and Elizabeth were together, why did he live, and she didn't?"
"We don't know. After the fire had played out, the men hunted for John and the children. Right off, they found John's body. Locating the children took longer."
The lines of Katherine's face were drawn in sadness. "They found Matthew by his screams. Though wounded, he was on his hands and knees digging frantically, calling out Elizabeth's name over and over. The most they could gather from his incoherent babbling was that he and Elizabeth had taken refuge in a small cave. As the fire surrounded them, there was a huge explosion. Elizabeth was torn from his arms as he blacked out. Jacob Basgal, Joseph's father, said the ground was totally destroyed. It reminded him of what was left at an arms factory after an accidental explosion he'd seen in Russia. It was as if the whole area had been lifted up and then dropped back in a huge crater. Elizabeth's body was never discovered."
"Oh, dear God. How terrible." Libby shuddered, feeling weak. Everything Katherine said seemed so real. She had little trouble visualizing the scene. It was as if she had been a spectator, watching it all. "How old was Matthew?"
"Nine. Elizabeth would have been five the next month. Matthew was devoted to my daughter. It pains me to know how much he has allowed himself to suffer all these years." Katherine fell silent, clearly lost in her own memories. She snapped the beans off the plant in front of her with fierce concentration.
Libby, too, absently picked beans. For the first time since meeting Matthew, she felt an inkling of sympathy for the man. No child should carry so much guilt. Maybe she should be a little more understanding. After all, it was possible some of his attitude came from his past. If she remembered her psychology correctly, childhood traumas often affected a person's personality, even into adulthood.
Libby sighed. She'd been lucky, considering what happened in her own childhood. Being the sole survivor of a plane crash could have left her with years of anger—she had lived and her family had not. Thank God for her adoptive parents. They made sure she received professional help. And, their deep love and continuing support eventually made her look at life with joy and excitement.
The only thing the doctors failed to help her understand was her nightmares, especially for someone crying out to her, "Run, run..."
If Matthew felt a loss, along with anger, she understood. A sigh shuddered through Libby. Maybe she could talk to him about his past?
Wrong kind of heart problems, Libby girl, she thought as she dropped another pea into the fast filling bowl. You're not dealing with a blocked artery here. You'd better think this through before delving into someone's emotional state, especially, when it happens to belong to Matthew.
The sound of approaching hoof beats caught her attention. A rather large man atop a beautiful roan cantered into the yard.
Katherine set her bowl down and dusted her hands. "How delightful. Luke's come for a visit." She glanced over to Libby. "His holdings are south of ours. You'll like him."
Libby sucked in a breath. Tied to the man's saddle was her father's first aid kit.
After the man dismounted, he lifted his hat, displaying a fair amount of sandy-blond hair then returned it to the back of his head at a rakish angle. While he untied the leather strings around the case's metal handle, he said over his shoulder, "Afternoon, Katherine, this here belongs to your guests. Edward found it in the cellar at the station. He thought they might want it. Since I was heading this way, he asked me to drop it off."
Luke held up the case and smiled at Libby. "This yours, Miss?"
The tall man's smile seemed friendly. Not a speck of suspicion or confusion showed in his hazel eyes. Obviously he didn't understand the significance of the medical equipment inside. Libby returned his smile and nodded. "Yes. It was nice of you to bring it. Thank you."
"No thanks needed." He held out the case, and, while she took it, his appreciative stare traveled the length of her. "Edward said you were pretty."
Her cheeks heated at his blatant admiration. She hugged the case close to her chest. "Why...why thank you, Mr...Mr..."
"Abrams, Miss. Luke Abrams. You can call me Luke." He tipped his hat again and grinned. A dimple appeared on his left cheek. Libby liked him immediately, even if he appraised her with obvious interest.
He must have noticed her disc
omfort. "Sorry, but it isn't often we bachelors get to meet a single pretty woman. I meant no disrespect." His grin widened even more.
His grin was so infectious she laughed. "I'm not offended. It's refreshing to be admired once in a while." She didn't bother to add her self-confidence had suffered a lot from all of Matthew's the snide innuendoes.
"What do you want, Abrams?"
Libby jumped a foot when the very person occupying her thoughts spoke directly behind her. She turned and collided with the familiar bare chest.
Face warming uncomfortably, she lifted her chin and said scathingly, "Mr. Domé, I'd rather you not sneak up on me. And..." she added, "Don't stand so close."
He didn't answer, nor did he move. He continued to tower over her, as if he announced to the world he'd claimed ownership.
"Hello, Matt," Abrams said quietly. "Heard you were back."
Libby spun again, this time to gape at Luke Abrams. His demeanor changed. It wasn't hard to see the men didn't like each other. Libby opened her mouth to say something, but Matthew beat her to it.
"I'll ask again. What are you doing here?"
"Not to see you, that's for damned sure."
Tired of twisting like a weather vane in a changing wind each time one of them spoke, Libby stamped her foot. "Will you two stop talking over my head? I do happen to be here, you know."
Katherine, who had been quiet all this time, started to laugh. "Shame on you two. Mind your manners. Libby doesn't understand what you're doing."
Luke Abrams reacted immediately. The coldness in his face disappeared. He chuckled and addressed Libby. "Sorry, Miss. Joseph, Matt and I go way back. It's a game we've played since we were kids."
Libby nodded accepting Luke's apology then glanced at Matthew.
He shrugged. "Really, what brings you here? I thought you were busy finishing up your new barn."
"I am." Abrams grinned, looking directly at Libby. "Another reason why I stopped by. I'm having a party to celebrate the completion."
"A party. How wonderful." Katherine clapped her hands. "You'll love it, Libby. Luke throws some of the best parties. Everyone—"