“Excuse my appearance.” Amber swallowed with some difficulty as she prepared to tell more lies. “I had to sell my possessions to buy a ticket on the stagecoach from Granite. The cheapest ticket was for a seat riding up top. I thought safety and warmth were more important than fashion.”
“If you put safety and warmth ahead of society’s constraints, you’re a brave woman. Welcome to my home, Miss Kelly.”
“Please, call me Amber.” If she’d been on better terms with the landlady, Amber would have smoothed the woman’s hair. She glanced around looking for the dog, but she didn’t hear, see, or smell her, and was afraid the retriever had been relegated to the outdoors. “I hope Ripley hasn’t caused a ruckus.”
Mrs. Garland smiled at Noah. “I was heartbroken when I heard what happened to Noah’s drum. I couldn’t say no to the dog. We’ve discussed rules and as long as he abides by them we shouldn’t have any trouble.”
“Where is Ripley now?” Daniel asked.
“In the kitchen. I told her to stay there.” Noah glanced up at his dad with a hopeful smile. “She’s a fine dog.”
Daniel gently cuffed Noah’s chin. “A dog who almost got ye killed.”
“She almost got killed, too, Pa.”
“And so did Miss Kelly. It was a miracle ye all walked off unscathed.”
“The smell of those biscuits has my mouth watering,” Amber said. “Shall we conclude business before dinner?”
Mrs. Garland returned her spectacles to adorn the top of her head, but it only made the misplaced hairs look worse. If Amber was so concerned about Mrs. Garland’s hair, what in the world did the landlady think of Amber’s clothes?
“Will fifteen dollars a week for room and board suit you? Noah said you wouldn’t be staying long.”
“No more than a week,” Amber said. “I have a five-night performance contract at Tabor Opera House starting tomorrow. Then I plan to go to Morrison.” Although she spoke with certainty—serendipity and a nosy Pinkerton agent—could easily upset her plans.
“A performance? Are you singing?”
“And playing the guitar, and a banjo if Mr. Tabor can find one.”
“I would enjoy the theatre.” Mrs. Garland looked down at Noah. “Maybe you’ll escort me to the performance.”
Noah looked at his dad with such an odd expression that Amber had to turn away to keep from laughing.
“I’ll take ye both,” Daniel said. “I heard Miss Kelly play at Hughes Store. She’s very talented.”
Mrs. Garland looked at Amber as if sizing her up. “I have a dress I wore to a ball in New York City a few years back. I can remake the dress to fit you.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that. I thought I’d go to Hughes Store tomorrow and see what they have.”
“They have a few nice dresses, but you’ll need a special gown.”
Amber wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t want to offend Mrs. Garland, but saying yes without seeing the gown was like agreeing to be a bridesmaid, knowing the dress would turn into a horror story. She used her best diplomatic approach. “Tomorrow, we’ll see what we can do.”
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy wearing the dress as much as I did.” Then to Daniel, Mrs. Garland said, “The sheriff stopped by. He asked if you’d come to the jail this evening.”
Daniel pulled out his pocket watch, clicked open the gold-plated cover, and peered at it from arm’s length. “I’ll go there after dinner.”
“You said you’d help with my arithmetic lesson tonight, Pa.”
Amber fixed Daniel with a stare. Would he put work before his son, a son whose loss he could be mourning?
“Do the best ye can, and I’ll go over yer assignments when I come back.”
She had no doubt he would go through the wanted posters in the sheriff’s office looking for one with her smiling face below the words—WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE. He was an investigator and naturally suspicious. He might as well satisfy his curiosity and get it over with, but he was doing it at Noah’s expense. And that pissed her off. If Daniel was going to ignore his parental responsibilities, then for tonight, she’d pick up the slack.
“I can help you. Math and science are my favorite subjects.”
A look of surprise blossomed on Noah’s face. “They are?” He scratched his head. “I thought you were a lawyer?”
“I’m a mining lawyer. I have a background in math and science.”
“Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Garland hugged him, and Amber was touched by the affection the woman clearly had for Noah. “You’ll get the highest marks in your class.”
Daniel’s gaze swung from Noah to Amber. “Thank ye.” He patted his waistcoat pocket where his watch was kept. There was more on Daniel’s mind. Amber could see it in his eyes, but he didn’t offer anything more than a silent nod.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Mrs. Garland said. “You can wash up before dinner.” She left the parlor expecting Amber to follow, but Daniel held her back for a moment.
“Ye’ve been kind. I’ve been rude, but I know ye’re hiding something, and I won’t quit looking until I discover what it is.”
“Flashing a badge and a gun was threatening and rude. But I suppose it goes with the job.” She returned to the hall tree to pick up the guitar and her personal items. Avoiding Daniel, she swept out of the room, trailing her new landlady.
She caught up with Mrs. Garland, standing in front of the last door at the end of the hallway. She opened the door to a small room with a potbelly stove and a small bathtub. “This is the washroom. My husband surprised me with this. A water pump brings in cold water and the drain empties it. I put two kettles of water on the stove in the evenings to heat. Mr. Grant and Noah take baths at night. You’re welcomed to use the room, but you must refill the kettles to heat for the next person.”
Mrs. Garland opened the door next to the bathing room and lit a coal oil lamp. Gas lighting was evidently not available on every street in Leadville. “I hope this will suit you,” she said.
Moonlight crept through lace curtains over partially drawn roller shades. The room was large enough for a bed heaped with quilts, a hand-braided rug, a marble-top washstand with pitcher, basin, and mirror, and an oak clothespress with five drawers and panel doors. The room, scented with lemon oil polish, was warm and welcoming. The lack of frills suited her fine.
“It’s lovely.”
After Mrs. Garland left the bedroom, Amber filled the pitcher with hot water from the washroom. Then she took a few minutes to cleanup and brush her hair. Instead of braiding it again, she left it loose to hang down her back. When she returned to the kitchen, she found Noah sitting at a square table with only a few crumbs on an otherwise empty dinner plate, Ripley on the floor by his feet, and Noah’s homework spread out in neat piles.
She took a seat next to him. “What kind of math are you doing?”
“Fractions, and I don’t understand the assignment.”
Amber pulled the book over to study the lesson. “‘Mary had one half of a dollar, and her mother gave her one half of a dollar more. How much money had she then?’ I like fractions.” She picked up a pencil and a piece of paper. “Let me see if I can help you understand.”
Mrs. Garland placed a plate of fried chicken and potatoes in front of her, and she ate while she worked through math problems with him. After an hour, he seemed to catch on. While he worked on his own, she drew a Stegosaurus. Every few minutes, he would look at what she was doing and ask questions about her sketch. Kids loved dinosaurs, and she’d learned years ago that she could entertain them with drawings and stories.
When he finally finished his assignments, he put down his pencil and studied her face. “You came to my rescue twice today. Thank you.”
She picked up the loose papers scattered around her plate and stacked them together, lightly tapping the ends of the pages against the table. “You’re a special young man. I’m glad I was here to help.”
Daniel walked into the kitchen. “Did ye get yer work
done, lad?”
“Yes, sir. Are you going out now?”
Daniel flashed a grin at his son. “No, I just got back.”
“Back? What time is it?” Noah asked.
“Almost nine. I told ye I was leaving, but ye were so engrossed in what Miss Kelly was teaching ye that ye didn’t hear me.”
“It was easy to pay attention to Miss Kelly, Pa. She explains concepts so they’re easy to understand.”
Daniel picked up the small stack of papers and thumbed through them. “I can see the progression. Here,” he said pointing at one of the pages, “all the figuring is in Miss Kelly’s hand. These pages are in yers.” He thumbed through a couple more. “What is this drawing?”
Amber looked at the paper he held up, tapping a pencil against her lips.
“That’s a Stegosaurus, a dinosaur that lived around a hundred fifty-five million years ago during the Jurassic Period,” Noah said. “Miss Kelly told me all about it. One was found near Morrison last year by a schoolteacher named Arthur Lakes.”
“That’s why I want to go to Morrison,” Amber said. “There’s a treasure trove of prehistoric fossils and tracks there.”
He pointed to the two smaller dinosaurs in the picture. “And these are wee dinosaurs.”
“Yes. And look at their tracks. Can you just imagine hearing the tiny feet splashing in a shallow river meandering through a flat, dry landscape?”
“Flat? Not in Colorado.”
“The landscape was completely different during the Jurassic Period, Pa. That’s what Miss Kelly said, but I find that to be a wild tale.”
“Looking at the Rockies now makes it hard to believe. How’d ye learn this?”
“I picked up bits and pieces from Dr. Marsh. But I formed my own opinions using what I learned studying geology from as far back as the ancient Greeks of the fourth century.”
Noah collected all the papers, pencils, and books and stacked them together. “Can I keep the picture?”
“Sure,” she said. “Just don’t show it around. This is my interpretation of what the Stegosaurus looks like. Drs. Marsh and Cope would disagree.”
Noah examined the sketch closely before tucking it inside his text book.
“Off to bed, lad,” Daniel said.
Amber stood and put her arm gently around Noah’s shoulder. “Will you let your dad look at your back and shoulder before you go to bed to see if you have any bruises?”
He tucked the books and papers under his good arm and gathered up his pencils. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sure you are,” she said. “But I’d feel better if your dad looked you over.” When Noah frowned, she said, “Indulge me, okay?”
He glanced up at his dad with big, expressive eyes. “I’m fine, Pa.”
Daniel put his hand on Noah’s head. “I’m sure ye are, lad. But Miss Kelly has been very helpful today. No sense worrying her more. Let’s go have a look.” With a slight smile, Daniel left the kitchen.
Amber tidied up her place at the table. “Thank you for dinner,” she said to Mrs. Garland, who had been sitting in a nearby rocking chair knitting, her hair neatly in place. “Only true Southerners know how to fry chicken perfectly every time.”
An expression came over Mrs. Garland’s gently wrinkled face—a look of sorrow, regret, loss. “Are you from the South? I didn’t detect it in your voice.”
“No. I’m from…Chicago, but my cousin had a good friend from Virginia, and he told me all about sweet tea and fried chicken.”
“I hope your cousin’s friend recovered from the war.”
To Amber, her frame of reference for the war was Afghanistan and Iraq. But she knew that for Mrs. Garland, it was the Civil War. “It took a while, I think,” Amber said.
A few minutes later, Daniel returned to the kitchen. “Noah has a few bruises, but nothing that looks serious. He would like to tell ye good night. Do ye mind going up to see him?”
“Not at all,” she said. She left the room with Daniel.
“I know ye’re not telling me the truth about who ye are—”
At this, she stopped thinking about Noah and hissed under her breath. “Button it, Daniel.” She headed down the hallway toward the washroom.
“Miss Kelly,” Daniel said.
She waved an airy hand.
“Ye’re going the wrong way.” His voice was low and unamused. “Noah is upstairs. First door on the left.”
She gave her head a single vigorous shake, spun on her heel, and followed Daniel up the stairs. The second-floor dimly lit hallway unrolled beneath her feet. To the left was a closed door. Daniel twisted the crystal doorknob and stepped aside for Amber to precede him into the bedroom.
She poked her head around the door. An aromatic sweet smell hit her, and she breathed in a big whiff of scented soap. Noah sat up in a twin-size bed nestled in the corner of the room, reading a paperback book with a black and white illustration on the front.
“What are you reading?” she asked.
He held up the book, so she could see the cover and title. “It’s about a girl named Alice who fell through a rabbit hole into a fantasy world populated by peculiar creatures.”
“Oh, I love Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.”
“You’ve read it?” Noah asked.
Amber nodded. “One of my favorites. ‘Begin at the beginning, the King said, very gravely, and go on till you come to the end: then stop.’” She laughed.
So did Noah.
The room was twice the size of hers with a double bed, Noah’s single bed, a wardrobe, a neat—almost to a fault—walnut desk, a swivel desk chair, and a comfy reading chair. A collection of pencils in a pewter cup and a sheaf of papers filled the center of the spotless blotter. The top sheet was lined with the elegant cursive writing of a nineteenth-century scrivener. A small lamp sat near the other side of the blotter. Once lit, it would easily provide ample light while working at the desk.
Amber scooted the swivel chair on its brass rollers across the floor to face the bed, then she sat and leaned toward Noah. “Are you sure your arm and shoulder are okay? I hurt my arm when I was your age. It hurt, but I was more scared of what my parents were going to do to me.”
“Why would they be mad?”
“Because I was climbing a big rock, and I wasn’t supposed to do that.”
“Did you get into trouble?” he asked.
“Worse than trouble. They told me never to climb the rocks again and if I did, they’d never bring me back to my grandparents’ cabin.”
“So you never climbed the rocks after that?”
She put her finger to her lips. “It’s a secret.” She glanced at Daniel, then turned back to Noah and whispered, “I never stopped climbing. I was just more careful.” She leaned back in the chair, and it squeaked as she rocked.
“Thank you for helping me today,” he said. “I miss my drum, but not like Pa would miss me if you hadn’t been there to pull me out of the street.”
“It was fate that brought me to that corner at that moment.” Amber set the book he’d been reading on the nearby table next to a small brass plate stand holding a two-by-four-inch carte de visite. The portrait was of a young serene-looking woman with large shining eyes. The whiteness of her skin and slightly flushed cheekbones gave her an ethereal glow. Amber picked up the small photograph and studied the woman’s face.
“Is this your mother?” she asked softly.
Noah nodded. “That was taken two years before she died.”
Amber smoothed his thick, tangled hair away from his face. Her hand lingered along his crimson cheek, then dropped away. “Your mom was a beautiful woman. You favor her.”
He smiled. “That’s what Pa says.”
Amber looked up to find Daniel staring at her. He had the same look on his face she’d seen earlier when they were standing on the front porch—grief, regret. He took the picture from her.
“Her name was Lorna. She died shortly after giving birth to our daughter.” He put the por
trait back on the stand then stepped over to the window and looked out at the street below.
“My baby sister died, too,” Noah said. “Pa named her Heather.”
A knot formed in Amber’s throat. Although Olivia was alive and well in another time, Amber might never see her again. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Her voice cracked, along with a little bit of her heart.
She crossed the bedroom toward the door. “Sleep well, Noah.”
Daniel looked over his shoulder at her.
“If Noah can’t settle down or wakes up in pain,” she said, “give him a sip of whisky.” And with that, she left the room, biting back tears that threatened to make hot tracks down her cheeks.
Daniel and Noah’s loss spoke to her disquieted spirit, and for the first time since she arrived in the past, she was beginning to conceptualize what it would mean long term. Even though there were dinosaur bones to discover, the fossils meant nothing without her family.
As soon as she reached her room, she opened the stone. Maybe she was sent to the past to save Noah, and now that he was safe, she could go home. Although the brooch didn’t heat in her hand, she sounded out the ancient words anyway and waited for the fog, but nothing happened.
She dropped onto the bed, knowing in her heart that she was truly, hopelessly stuck in the past.
8
The Present, MacKlenna Farm, Lexington, Kentucky—David
David McBain, president of MacKlenna Corporation, scanned the information he’d obtained from hacking into Amber’s laptop and synced it with his dark web research. In the past year, he’d tweaked the computer program he’d written, and it was now a highly sophisticated tool. No longer did he have to pay others to do what he could do for himself, which relieved him of worrying about an associate going to jail for illegal activities. Kenzie didn’t know the extent of his hacking capabilities, and he intended to keep it that way. As for Elliott, he had plausible deniability.
The door opened and JL strolled into the room. When she and Kevin had married, she decided to use her real name—Jenny or Jen—instead of JL, but nobody in the family was buying into the change. It was too late. They all knew her too well. She was JL O’Grady, now Fraser, former NYPD detective and former MacKlenna Corporation vice president of global security. For Kevin’s sake, they would call her Fraser, but never Jen.
The Amber Brooch: Time Travel Romance (The Celtic Brooch Book 8) Page 12