by Carolyn Bond
Bluegrass Blush
By Carolyn Bond
Copyright © 2016 by Timepiece Books.
Lexington, KY, USA
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Published by www.TimepieceBooks.com
Carolyn Bond would love to hear from you if you enjoyed this book. Join her Facebook page at www.facebook.com/CarolynBondWriter or email her at [email protected].
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank my husband and children for the time away from them that it took to write this. I appreciate you supporting my writing so very much. It means the world to me.
I thank my very good friend of so many years, Kari Williams, Attorney At Law, who owns an elder law firm in Frankfort, Kentucky and let me ask her all sorts of crazy questions.
Thank you to my good friend and writer, Joan Graves, who cheers me on like I’m a rock star. Every writer needs a friend like you. You are awesome. Many thanks to Nancy Griffin for her editorial services. Veronica Brown, Dawn Chapman, and Brandie Pagel, your input and encouragement are invaluable to me. I would like to thank the staff and guides at Mammoth Cave National Park for upholding a tradition of discovery and love of nature.
And last, but certainly not least, to the readers who enjoy my work. You keep me always day dreaming for new ways to touch your heart.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter One
Events happen that change us. One turning of fate changes the rest of our life. Maybe we can see it coming and we brace ourselves. Sometimes it happens so fast, we just get pulled into another timeline like the current of an undertow.
Everleigh settled into the cab clutching her purse with one hand and tugging her polyester knit top down to smooth it over her abdomen with the other hand. The vinyl seat’s polished sheen from the thousands of passengers reflected the dull gray light of the rainy day. Without conscious thought, she tucked her shoulder-length, straight, dishwater brown hair behind her right ear and began to fidget with her right earlobe. Leaving Bluegrass airport, she peered out the rain-speckled window and looked forward to a hot bath at the inn in Versailles. Her legs ached from being crammed into the middle seat on the two-hour flight from Charleston.
Gentle hills of green grass and black board fences wavered through the blotches of water on the glass. She had never been to the Bluegrass. She’d been to a conference in Louisville once, but this was another world. Anticipation knotted her stomach and a small smile curled her lips as she reveled in the one great part of her job: she got to travel often. She liked getting away to places where no one knew her. As a business consultant for disability law compliance, she was highly sought after. That almost made up for the pain of not being highly sought after as a woman. At 35, her plans for marriage and a family were passing her by.
She wondered why she ended up in this body and other people got other bodies. It seemed so random. She had never felt especially attached to her body. She mostly felt like just a soul stuck in that particular skin peeking out through eyes that served as windows like windows of this taxi. Her soul was no more defined by her body than her Honda Civic at home defined her. She wished people could know the real her inside her skin and not judge her by the body that carried her soul around. She never could get past people’s perception of her as a frumpy wallflower. That’s what she saw when she looked in the mirror.
She sighed quietly and pushed back the pain in her heart. The driver’s eyes darted into the rear-view mirror and back to the road.
“The Versailles Inn is a nice place. You gonna get to sightsee much?”
Focusing her thoughts to the question, “Oh, no. Probably not. I’m just here on business.”
Eye’s glanced at her again, pausing, and then, “That’s a shame. There’s nowhere like the Bluegrass in the world.”
“I’m sure there isn’t.” She smiled politely and turned back to the rain streaked window trying to make out the landscape.
He’s just making conversation. I don’t want him to think I’m being forward.
Her gut tensed as she contemplated what she would do if he wanted to go out or something.
He is nice looking, but surely he isn’t interested in me. Oh, Lord. Just try to look out the window and hopefully he won’t say anything else.
The rest of the short ride from the airport to Versailles was quiet. She tried to look like she was thinking of something and hopefully he wouldn’t say anything to her again. The cab turned down a short street off Main Street and pulled up to a charming white inn with a large porch. The cabbie jumped out, opened her door and carried her bag up the walk through the drizzling rain. As he approached, a middle-aged man with a beard and a welcoming smile opened the door.
Everleigh opened her purse and dug out the fare and a generous tip before gathering herself to get out. She ducked her head and trotted up the sidewalk to the porch upsetting puddles as she went.
“Good evening, madam! Welcome to the Versailles Inn.”
“Thank you,” she smiled her friendliest smile as she stepped across the threshold.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, ma’am?” said the cabbie.
“Oh,” she turned to him and blushed slightly giving away her attraction, “um, no. Here is the fare. Thank you very much.” She darted her eyes down to his hand to give him the money and then glanced back at him quickly before looking down again.
“Anytime. Call us again if you’d like to tour some sights. Ask for Jim and I’ll be right over.” Everleigh almost let herself think he winked at her, but surely not. She was a middle-aged dowdy overweight woman. She must be fooling herself. She couldn’t imagine what any man would see in her.
“Th-Thank you, Jim.” She smiled and turned to the inn keeper. “Do I need to register?”
Jim nodded his head in their direction and headed out the door.
“Yes, madam, right over here at the desk.”
The inn keeper checked her in and gave her a room key. He picked up her bag and told her to follow him up to her room. The small inn only had ten rooms upstairs over a restaurant and lounge. The chatter of conversation and clinking of glasses and silverware carried up the stately wood staircase.
“If you need anything, Ms. Anderson, just press the intercom right here on the wall.” He pointed to a metal plate with holes across it and a black button. Then turned and went into the hallway.
“Thank you very much.” She smiled appreciatively and gently closed the door behind her.
***
The light in her room gave a peaceful soft glow to the bed covered in a white spread. An antique walnut dresser with a gracefully curving mirror above it perfectly matched the timeless atmosphere of the room. Red linen curtains beckoned her to the window where a white sheer curtain let her peek out at the world like a ghost hiding from the light of day. She watched a couple walk up the side walk and disappear beneath her. The hearty aroma of southern cooking wafted under her door and she remembered reading the Inn was a popular place for locals to dine. Her legs ached and she needed a cleansing soak in a warm tub.
Through a sturdy wood door beside the bed, she spotted a porcelain sink. She wondered if the feeling of the room was extended to the restroom, too, and made her way to the door. Pushing it open, she turned up a satisfied smile as she saw the antique claw foot tub with a metal shower ring above and a white cotton curtain pulled around it. She sat on
the edge and felt the cold metal through her slacks as she leaned to turn the white four-lobed knob for hot water. A gentle gush poured out and spilled into the tub. A hot bath was just what she needed to wash away the grimy feel of traveling and let her mind rest from being so close to other people cramped in an airplane. Her anxiety was creeping up in her chest like a caged animal ready to bust loose. She set the rubber stopper in the drain and left to get her toiletries out of her bag.
Her mind drifted to fantasies of times past when at her age, a woman would be the matron of a bustling home full of nearly grown children and content to be the head of her domain. Such different times from now. Now she worked long hours all around the country. She spent very little time in her tiny apartment that overlooked Charleston harbor.
She pulled her top over her head and slipped off her slacks, and undergarments, leaving them draped over the bed. Catching a glimpse of herself naked in the dresser mirror, she grimaced and looked away. Her overweight figure was a source of loathing and the result of consoling herself with food to compensate for her loneliness. It was a vicious cycle.
She opened her toiletry bag and pawed around for the little round bar of lavender soap her mother had given her for her birthday. She loved sweet smelling soaps in pretty paper wrappers. Her mother would search high and low to find imported soaps to surprise her. This one came from a town in the France. A woman that owned a shop had given it to her mom as a gift. She held it to her nose and breathed in the scent. A delicate sweet scent of an ancient flowered garden stopped all thoughts in her head. It tickled her nose with the crisp clean scent of lavender. Closing her eyes, she could get lost in it.
In the bathroom, she slipped into the water as vapors of steam curled around her legs. She lowered herself down holding on to the solid sides of the tub and the warm water engulfed her body. She reclined back until her shoulders touched the cold metal of the tub. Wincing at the chill, she slid down a little further until the water crested her collar bones. Steam floated like fog giving the small room a veiled feel where she felt safe to relax. She reached out to a small stand next to the tub and picked up the soap still in the wrapper. She carefully opened the paper and laid it back on the stand. Then she reached for a soft white washcloth and laid it around the soap.
Submerging the washcloth and soap, she watched as tiny bubbles escaped and a curling wisp of cream soap floated into the water. She rubbed the washcloth and soap together and the hypnotizing scent of the soap was caught up in the steam rising from the water. She lathered up the washcloth until a frothy soft foam covered it and replaced the soap onto to paper on the stand. Taking her time to enjoy the moment, she slowly ran the washcloth down her right arm leaving a trail of glistening warm skin. She did he same on the other arm and then washed behind her neck. The lavender scent was intoxicatingly strong. She wasn’t sure she had ever used a soap that had such a concentrated infusion. She would have to tell her mom to get more from where ever she found it.
She pulled the washcloth around the back of her neck and laid her head back against the high end of the tub, closing her eyes. After a time, she blinked open her eyes, unsure if she might have dozed off for a while. Feeling completely relaxed and like a new person, she stood up to wash the rest of her body in the now, tepid water.
As she grasped the sides, she realized the tub was now just short metal basin. She noticed she felt stronger, or was it lighter, as she pulled herself up. She looked down at her legs and gasped. Her legs were thin and toned. She clutched her belly and felt a tiny waist. Smoothing her hands over her hips, she stifled a shriek. Stretching and twisting to see herself, she felt her alien body. It made no sense. Looking backward down the length of pale white sculpted thigh and calf, her mouth dropped open as she rotated her foot on a tiny ankle. She surely had to be 50 pounds lighter.
She was no longer in the bathroom of her room. There was no door. It was an alcove behind a large screen. Panic seized her.
Bursting from the tub, she sloshed water up the sides and all over the floor to get over to the mirror which now was over a small bureau. Standing on an oil cloth, the woman that faced her had a look of utter shock. Her hands flew up to her delicate ivory cheeks. Long flaxen blond hair was pulled up into a massive bun on the top of her head with moist tendrils caressing her neck. Her full bosom made her blush deep red, she instinctively covered herself with her arm.
What on earth?
She turned backwards and twisted around to see the shapely back end of a woman who couldn’t be over 20 years old.
“That is some soap!” she breathed.
Chapter Two
Everleigh stumbled backwards and caught herself, caught the body of this stranger, on the edge of a chair next to oval little tub and sat to think. The tub looked like an old fashioned clothes washing tub with handles. On the little bureau sat a wash basin and pitcher.
How could this be?
She stretched out her arm and turned it over.
Am I dreaming?
She could feel the cold of the tub against her leg. She could smell the aroma of dinner downstairs. The steam of the bath water clung to her face. If this was a dream, it was awfully realistic, but it was impossible.
What happened to her body? Whose body is this? Where am I?
Without any notion of what was happening or how long it would last, she looked for a towel and saw only a piece of linen that was on the bureau and dried off and wrapped it around her, tucking in the corner between her breasts. She sucked in a gleeful breath at the site of actually covering all of her when it was wrapped around her. For a good many years, only a beach towel came close to wrapping all the way around her and even then she had to hold the bottom corner closed.
“I hope this woman isn’t in my body right now or she’ll freak out,” she chuckled out loud.
Everleigh reached up and felt her hair for pins. She found three pins strategically tucked into the bun.
“How in the world did she get all this hair to stay up with just three pins?”
Undoing them, waist-length silky waves fell around her. Everleigh gasped. Her arms fell to her sides and she stared into the mirror. If ever she had imagined beauty in the form of a woman, it was the person she saw. The person in the reflection who moved when she did. Turned when she did. This wasn’t just ordinary; this body that now wrapped around her soul was perfection. She puckered her lips into a pout and stared. Intrigued by sultry pink lips, she furrowed her brow and even that expression could make a man clamor to please her to bring that delicate smile back.
She raised her arms and looked at her proportions of bust, waist and hips on the petite frame that looked barely over five feet and she was scandalously gorgeous. She wrapped her hands around her waist and her fingers touched, yet her bosom blossomed into perfect firm orbs that would smother a babe.
Eager to try out this body in the lounge, she set her mind to quickly dressing and seeing how much attention she could get hiding under this skin. All her fears of rejection evaporated with the bath water on her damp hips. She dropped the linen and pulled the door open. Two steps later she stopped dead in her tracks. The clothes on the bed were not the slacks and stretchy shirt she’d worn earlier. Instead, a high necked silk gown, wool stockings, chemise, corset and corset cover and some odd-looking wire contraption with straps were draped across the white bedspread.
Caught dumbstruck, she glanced around the room to see what else was different. She saw a steamer trunk in the corner near two pair of shoes. One pair of black granny boots and a pair of satin slippers. Scanning the rest of the room she noted the deep green velvet curtains.
Weren’t those red before?
She tiptoed to the window and, hiding behind a panel of velvet, peeked outside through the gap in the sheers. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched a stage coach pulled by two horses trot down the cobblestoned Main Street with a driver holding the reins. A driver who looked like he fell out of a western movie. A man and woman walked up the sidewalk
toward the inn. The woman scanned the front of the inn and her eyes fell on Everleigh’s window. Everleigh jerked back behind the green curtain. Something wasn’t right. How had the town changed like that? Why were those people dressed like they were in an old time photo? She glanced at the clothes on the bed again.
Her head started to swim and she felt dizzy. The edges of the room started to go black as she moved hand over hand to sit on the bed. She clasped her hands to her heart and felt her chest not moving.
Breathe, Everleigh. Breathe!
She inhaled deeply and felt better immediately. In an effort to keep from fainting, she began panting. She wasn’t even sure how to put on these clothes. She picked up the corset and remembered a movie with a servant cinching strings on the back of a corset while the woman gasped for air. She grimaced and dropped the corset. Picking up the chemise, she was surprised to feel the satiny finish of the cotton material.
“Wow. This woman must have been rich!”
She pulled the delicate shirt-like lingerie over her head and shifted her shoulders to feel the luxurious softness on her back. An item that resembled a pair of shorts with a draw string lay under where the chemise was. She picked them up and stepped into them, tying the string to hold them on. She assumed the corset was next.
“How on earth can I get this on by myself?”
Examining it closely, she saw that the corset appeared to have crossed laces in the front rather than the back. The laces were loosely open just enough for her to get it over her head and pull over her chest. Like lacing a pair of roller skates, she started at the bottom and began tightening the laces. She had them as tight as she could get them and tied the ends in a bow.
She picked up the corset cover and looked it over. It had beautiful embroidered flowers around the edges. She slipped it over her head and pulled it down over the corset.