by Rikki Dyson
Stacey is a student studying toward her Bachelor’s degree in archaeology at Baylor University, Waco, Texas. She has one more year before she graduates. Annie couldn’t care less about the fund raiser. She goes to please her uncle, Lord Farnsworth. Few people know she is Lady Anne Rutledge. Annie and Stacey have been best friends for three years, they think of each other as sisters. They had been standing around for the past hour with the same glass in their hands. Annie had gone to find her uncle to tell him that she and Stacey were leaving.
Stacey had wandered over to the hors-d’oeuvre table. When she turned around, Doctor McLeod was standing by the table. Surprised to see her, he asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I’m sorry,” Doctor McLeod said. “that was rude of me. My only excuse is I’m very surprise to see you here.”
“Rude of you, well we finally agree on something,” Stacey said, dripping with sarcasm.
“What I meant is, I’ve been trying to contact you, Miss Scott.”
“Why?” she asked. “So you could insult me further.”
“No, of course not,” he said, mystified by her attitude. “I wanted to apologize for my actions the other day. I don’t know what possessed me to say something like that. It was quite unprofessional and insensitive of me. I do apologize.”
“I haven’t given it a second thought,” Stacey said, coolly.
“I really don’t want to be here,” Doctor McLeod said, “However, it’s a fund raiser for a
new wing for the hospital. Doctor Fein was to give a small speech, but he was called out
of the city, so here I am. I dislike having to cow-tow to the idle rich. Oh, sorry, are you
one of the idle rich?”
“I think you know better than that,” Stacey said.
What brings you here then?” he asked.
“I’m with a friend,” Stacey informed him.
A woman came up to Doctor McLeod, possessively took his arm and said, “Shane darling, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You’re such a naughty boy to run off and leave me like that.” When Doctor McLeod turned to introduce Stacey, she was gone.
For the past few days, Stacey had been visiting library after library, and the trying to get a lead of some kind on the Fitz-Morgan family. There seemed to be nothing, as if the records had been swept clean. Therefore on Saturday, Stacey rented a car, packed herself a bag and headed for Yorkshire. She knew in her dream she’d lived in Yorkshire. Yorkshire was a big place and she knew she had only two weeks to look before going back home to Texas.
Stacey arrived in Leeds late Sunday afternoon. She found herself a hotel, ate supper and set up her game plan. Leeds had two main libraries where she thought she might find relevant information on the Fitz-Morgan family. Before settling in for the night, Stacey called Annie. She had promised her she would stay in touch.
“Where are you?” Annie asked.
“I’m in Leeds. I just wanted to let you know where I am and not to worry.”
“Stacey, Doctor McLeod has been calling. He left his mobile number. Don’t you think you should find out what he wants?”
“I’m not interested in what he wants. I told you he’s a jerk, Annie.”
“Yes, I know you said that, but he seemed so nice. Eric’s been asking about you too. What do you want me to tell him?”
“Oh, good grief, as little as possible. I didn’t tell him my plans because he would have insisted on coming along and I really wanted to do this on my own. Can you keep him busy Annie? You know how Eric is, he’s like a ole’ hound dog when he gets on your trail.”
Annie laughed, “I’ll do my best sweetie. You will keep in close touch. Right?”
“Yes, I promise, so don’t worry about me. Goodnight and thanks, Annie.”
Stacey knew that she, or rather, the old countess had died in fourteen- forty- seven at that time she still had four living grandsons as well as numerous great-grandchildren. There must be records of them somewhere, she thought. As soon as the libraries opened the next morning, Stacey was there ready to search the records for births or deaths of Fitz-Morgans, Ashworths, Maxwell’s and Howards. There were three castles of her descendants. Finwick keep, Falcon Crest castle and last but not least, Dun-Raven castle. There had to be records of some kind. Stacey studied medieval maps of Yorkshire that the library provided. Of course, the terrain looked much different in twenty-first century, than it had in the fourteen and fifteen centuries.
The staff, at the library wanted to assist in anyway they could. They helped her find Ashworths and Maxwell but they were too recent to be ancestors. By noon Stacey felt they were more or less humoring her. She was sure they thought, she was just some crazy American girl who was looking for non-existent ancestors. Around one o’clock, Stacey left the library tired and disappointed, but she wasn’t going to give up on her search. She decided to just start driving. The countryside was absolutely beautiful. Stacey knew she had never been here before, except in her dream. She wondered again, if her dream could be a past life experience. She knew so little about things like that. Stacey had never been, what you would call, devout. Mr. Chen had taught her about the breath of life, so Stacey looked up at the sky and said, “Deities, I’m putting myself in your hands. If ya’ll are out there show me the way, but you’ll need to hurry, I have to leave in two weeks.”
Stacey stopped the car and looked at the map. She knew there was a river that ran by Dun-Raven castle. Of course, it could have dried up or changed its flow after all these years. Well, Stacey thought; I’ll never know if I don’t look. She sat for awhile studying the map. Okay, she told herself; here goes nothing, as she took the motorway north in the direction she felt Dun-Raven should lie.
Chapter 3
Maxwell House
Stacey, following some instinctive impulse had turned off the main motorway a few miles back. Now she regretted that decision as her car had just quit on her. The fog had rolled in from nowhere so thick she could hardly see. She had turned off the motorway, onto a country road because she felt something, not recognition, but something that she had no name for, other than intuition.
Stacey took out her flashlight to read the emergency phone number on the rental agreement. As luck would have it her cell phone was dead. She tried the car charger, but it was faulty too. Stacey had been sitting in the car in the fog for about half an hour when she saw the faint glow of car lights. She got out of the car to flag down the approaching vehicle with her flashlight, but it turned off somewhere up ahead. She thought, to herself; there must be a house up there. Once again she grabbed her flashlight, as well as her shoulder bag and started walking.
She found the turn off and followed the driveway to a house. When she knocked on the door a friendly woman answered. Stacey introduced herself and told the woman that her car had stopped on her and asked could she please use her phone? “Yes, of course, go through dear. The phone is in the dining room on the right.”
Once again, Stacey was dressed in jeans, shirt and boots. The woman took her to the phone in the dining room just off the foyer. Stacey was talking on the phone to the rental company. She was on hold, waiting to be connected to the towing service for the area, when a woman and a man walked into the dining room.
With much surprise, Stacey asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he said.
“Shane, don’t be rude,” the woman with him said.
“Sorry, Mother, may I introduce you to Miss Scott.”
The other woman came back in and he introduced her as his Aunt Letty. The phone brought Stacey back to reality. The towing service informed her, because of the fog it would be a while before they could get there.
“Okay, I suppose if that’s as soon as you can get here.” Stacey said. She turned to the people still standing watching her and asked, “Where am I?”
“You’re at Maxwell house, dear,” Aunt Letty said.
“I’m at Maxwell house, are you familiar with it?” Stacey asked the towing man.
“Not right off hand, miss. What road are you on?”
A little exasperate, Stacey asked, “What road am I on, please?”
“It’s Maxwell house road, dear,” Aunt Letty said.
When Stacey told him the road, he said, “Oh, sure miss I know the road.”
“I’ll be waiting in the car,” Stacey said, and hung up.
“Oh, no dear, you can’t do that, you’ll wait right here with us. We’ll have a nice cup of tea while we’re waiting.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Maxwell, that’s very kind of you but it’ll be better if I wait in the car.”
While Stacey was on the phone with the towing service, Doctor McLeod had been
leaning against the dining table with his arms crossed over his chest watching Miss Scott. He wondered, how in the devil did she wind up here of all places. Then he remembered, in her dream she had lived in Yorkshire. He thought; what a beautiful, stubborn young woman she is to go looking for some dream man who died seven hundred years ago. He became a little irritated to think she cared so much for this imaginary man.
While Doctor McLeod stood looking smugly on, Aunt Letty said, “Oh, no dear, my name isn’t Maxwell, it’s Foley and I insist you join us. Who knows when this fog will lift and you being a friend of Shane’s and all...”
He was leaning against the dining table giving, what Stacey knew to be a sardonic smile. What Stacey would really like to do wasn’t permissible and Mrs. Foley had been so nice. She would act like a lady; even if it killed her.
As Mrs. Foley and Doctor McLeod’s mother left the room, Stacey, through gritted teeth, hissed at Doctor McLeod, “You could’ve told me her name wasn’t Maxwell.” As she gave him a swat on his upper arm with the back of her hand.
Shane, much surprised by her swat; put his hand over his bicep and said, “I beg your pardon, but I fail to see how your mistake was my fault, Miss Scott.” The look Stacey gave him could have froze a polar bear. Aunt Letty offered tea, so the four of them were sitting in the living room having a cup of tea when Mrs. Foley asked, “You’re an American, aren’t you dear?”
“Yes ma’am, I am,” Stacey said with a smile. They asked a lot of questions about America. “Actually, I’m from Texas,” Stacey said. They wanted to know where? She told them, “Rawhide. It’s a little town between Waco and Austin.”
Mr. smug britches just sat and didn’t enter into the conversation at all. Oh, how she would love to remove that smug look off his face. She still resented what he had said to her in his office. A knock on the door brought her back from wherever she was.
It was the man from the towing service. “Sorry miss,” he said. “it can’t be fixed, so we’ll be towing it to the garage. I’m sure they’ll be sending you out a replacement.”
“May I ride into town with you so I can get a hotel?” Stacey asked.
“Sorry, miss. ‘Tis against the rules,” he said, “but I brought your cases and sun shades to the house.” He sat them just inside the door.
“Well, thank you anyway,” Stacey said, then turned to Mrs. Foley and asked, “May I use your phone again to call a taxi?”
“Nonsense, my dear. You can stay right here with us.”
“Oh, no, thank you,” Stacey said. “I couldn’t impose that way.”
“Nonsense,” Aunt Letty said. “tell her, Shane.”
“I guess that’s settled,” Shane said. “I’ll take your cases upstairs.”
Stacey stood there in awe. She couldn’t remember ever before being so cleverly
maneuvered. An older gentleman came in and Aunt Letty introduced him to Stacey as her husband, Sir John Foley. They had to tell him all about the fog and how the car had
malfunctioned and about her being an American, from Texas.
When Shane came back downstairs, he said, “Your room is the first door to the right of the stairs.”
Stacey thanked him, then like an after thought, asked, “Is your wife with you?”
“Wife? What wife?” his mother asked, frantically.
Shane grimaced at Stacey and said, “I’m not married, where did you get that idea?”
“At the fundraiser. I thought the woman with you was your wife.”
“If you had stayed around a bit longer, Miss Scott, I would have introduced you to her. She was on the ‘fund raiser’ committee.”
“That’s a relief,” Shane’s mother said. “I should hope he would tell me before he marries, if he ever does. He tells me he’s a confirmed bachelor:”
A little later on Mrs. McLeod said, “If you will excuse me, I’ll go up and dress for dinner.”
Stacey wasn’t accustomed to dressing for supper, but when in Rome..., she asked to be excused so she could go up and change. When she came down she had on a blue sheath dress with huarache sandals. Stacey had brought very few, but basic clothes with her. She hadn’t expected to be socializing, she thought herself to be on a mission.
An older woman announced that dinner was served: Doctor McLeod introduced Stacey to Mrs. Nickels. Stacey shook hands with her and said, “Hello; it’s so nice to make your acquaintance.”
Mrs. Nickels said, “Thank you pet. Not many young people have your manners now days.”
“So, you live in a small town, Stacey, what is your fathers profession?” Sir John asked as they sat down to the table.
“He’s a doctor and a rancher.”
“So, you live on a ranch?”
“Yes sir, we do,” Stacey said. “We raise cattle and quarter horses and we train cutting horses. Dad has won a few ribbons for some of his horses. Harlan’s really in charge of the horses, though. He’s a horse whisperer.”
“I’ve heard of horse whisperers,” Sir John said. “How does it work?”
“It takes a lot of patience and perseverance, plus a love of horses,” Stacey said. “Harlan is the best. My gramps says Harlan has horse sense. It’s a good thing he does, he’s the ramrod of the horses. The cutting horses we use when we have a round-up. They are an absolute necessity.”
“What exactly is a cutting horse?” Sir John inquired.
“It’s a quarter horse that’s been trained to anticipate the movement of the animal he’s cutting from the herd. You know how sheep ranchers use dogs to herd and keep the sheep together. Well, we use horses pretty much the same way, except we use them to separate an unbranded calf from the herd or a new one from its mother. That’s when the horse and rider cut them from the herd and prevent them from returning. Then they are roped, tied, branded or tagged.”
“Isn’t that when you castrate them also?” Doctor McLeod asked.
Stacey gave him a look of disgust and with annoyance in her voice said, “Yes, it is. I didn’t realize you were so familiar with ranch life.”
Undaunted, Doctor McLeod said, “If my information is correct, you cook and eat the testicles, do you not?”
“Some people do,” Stacey said, as she gave him a withering look across the table.
“How do you know so much about this Shane?” Aunt Letty asked.
“I was wondering that myself,” his mother said.
“Last year when I was in San Francisco, they were on the hotel menu as calf fries and something else, oh yes, mountain oysters,” Shane said, nonchalantly.
Stacey saw her chance and pounced. She wasn’t about to let this, ‘know it all, sophisticated, smart ass,’ get off that easily. She asked sweetly, “Did you try them?”
He shook his head, “No.” Stacey looked him straight in the eye and said, “No? Oh you should have. They’re so tender and succulent.”
“Oh, dear lord,” Aunt Letty said, excused herself from the table. Luckily, the meal was over. Stacey, trying not to be impolite started stacking dishes.
“You don’t have to do that,” Doctor McLeod said.
“Oh, yes, I do. I don’t expect others to wait on me.”
“Why did you feel it necessary to gro
ss out my aunt?”
“Don’t you dare lay that at my door. I left out the castration part, but no, you just couldn’t leave it alone! Could you?”
“I think you’re a very spoiled, high tempered young woman,” Doctor McLeod informed her. Stacey turned on him with eyes flashing and said, “Oh, do you now? Well, you don’t know me well enough to make that assumption, Doctor McLeod.”
Mrs. Nickels came in the dining room to gather the dishes. When she saw Stacey stacking dishes, she said, “No, no, miss, I’ll get these.”
“Please, I wanna’ help,” she said.
“Yes,” Doctor McLeod said. “Miss Scott can wash and I’ll wipe.”
Stacey looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Mrs. Nickels smiled to herself and said, “No thank you, Doctor Shane. I fancy to do them myself. I don’t have dishes for breaking, you young people go on in and visit. Go along with you now.”
Stacey and Shane walked into the front parlor to join the others. Stacey sat down in a chair; while Shane stood by the fireplace with his elbow on the mantle. They knew there was friction between Shane and Stacey, however, they didn’t know why. Shane stood watching Stacey, wondering what was going on in her head and why she had taken such a dislike to him. He was accustom to women vying for his attention.
Sir John brought in a bottle of blackberry wine and said, “Look what I found in the wine cellar. I thought you might like some Stacey.”
“Yes, I would love some,” she said.
As they enjoyed the wine, Sir John asked, “What brings you to our part of England Stacey?”
Aunt Letty spoke up and said, “Stacey is an archaeologist, John.”
“Oh, so you’ve come to take a look at our old castle, or what’s left of it,” Sir John said.
Stacey looked straight at Doctor McLeod with fire in her eyes. She was sure he knew about the castle and just didn’t tell her. Doctor McLeod knew immediately what Stacey was thinking and quickly said, “I didn’t know there was an old castle near here. I swear to god I didn’t.”