 rant continued walking, pausing in front of a maple tree. He took his coat off and spread it on the grass like a picnic cloth, motioning for Leia to join him on the wool.
“We’re lucky there’s no fighting here,” she said, settling on the coat’s sleeve and lapel. “It’s a beautiful area.” Did she really say that? And to a Union soldier? “May it stay this way far into the future,” he said with a reverent tone. He clasped his hands together in front of him, steepling the index fingers toward the sky. “Oh, it will,” she said, drawing a curious look from him. “You say strange things, Leah. I may have to spend some time in Baltimore to understand you better.” Leia said nothing, looking around the garden for a reason to change the subject yet again. “But you understand, I may never see you again.” His words rang truer than any she had heard that day, and added a note of melodrama to the situation. She turned her face up toward his, which towered at least a foot over hers. His eyes locked onto hers, as they paused, embracing like two teenage lovers that were about to be torn apart. Leia knew raw desire when she saw it, and Brant’s eyes glistened with it. Any other man, any modern man, would have been all over her by now. She reached toward his face, and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers. Brant took her hand and gently kissed it, his thumb pressed into her palm “We should return to the house. There’s no chaperone with us. It would be nice to learn more about you, to know you better, but I’m leaving very soon. I’ve no doubt there will be fighting.” His voice was suddenly harsh, and he pulled her to her feet. Leia stepped back. Why did he keep saying that? Clips of movies portraying bloody, ragged soldiers played in Leia’s mind. How could a man speak so calmly of combat if it was real for him? Perhaps he was just a good actor, though he was almost too-handsome for Hollywood. He didn’t seem to know just how hot he was, which only made him more appealing. They walked to the fountain, and he passed his hand through the water spouting from the gurgling cherub’s mouth. When he moved his hands up and down his thighs to dry the beads of water, Leia was struck by his sensual movement. The man certainly had captured her attention, she thought. They sat on a shiny, wrought-iron bench decorated with lacy scrollwork. “It’s so pretty here, let’s sit a minute.” “I like to think here, it’s very calm,” he began and smoothed his thick hair back from his forehead. “The sound of the fountain is relaxing, so when I visit, I always spend time out here.” Leia was still silent, contemplating that when she had seen this fountain this same morning, it had been rusted, broken in a few places, and not in use. If this was a scam, she thought, it was an expensive one. But what if it wasn’t? Could she have traveled back to the nineteenth century? And if so, why didn’t it look more like Gone With The Wind? “You are very quiet, Leah. Did I offend you? I should not have been so forward.” “Oh, heavens no. I was just wondering. . . I have seemed to lose track of time these past few days. What is the date?” Brant looked at her with narrowed eyes. “June fifteenth, of course.” “June fifteenth, nineteen . . .” She looked at her hands in her lap. Asking was risky. “Eighteen, Leah, 1863. You know that. Are you feeling well?” Suddenly Leia was not feeling well. She could not believe she was somehow back in 1863. Civil War time? Real fighting, real bloodshed! No, it was impossible. She was a twentieth-century woman, dammit, not Scarlett O’Hara. “I’m fine, Brant. I think I just need to get some sleep. Too much wine, probably.” He smiled as if he finally understood her, and rose to escort her back to the house. She knew then how to get to the bottom of this mess; she needed to get off this property. Even Jason Maxwell, real estate wizard, couldn’t have the resources to extend his scam outside of the McGarland gates. Tomorrow, she would ask one of the maids to take her to town, and she’d get back to reality. Leia sighed and smiled, thanked Brant for the walk, and went inside.  “ Just after dawn Martha had appeared, with a dark brown, nearly black gown and the coordinating undergarments. Leia had hidden her own skirt, bra and panties in a tall armoire. Hettie came to help her dress, insisting she wear thick stockings and a balmoral petticoat under the gown, which had a corset-like bodice built in. Leia began to sweat just thinking about all of these heavy clothes. After squeezing her waist into a stiff, tiny garment, the maid arranged Leia’s blonde hair into a chignon, so tightly that her eyes pulled squinty. Martha had sighed and told Leah she’d have to wear her own shoes, but heaven only knew where she had obtained such unsightly items of torture. The June sunshine had renewed Leah’s feelings that she was being put-on by Jason. Leia knew her “aunt” was wondering why she had arrived from Baltimore without luggage. She decided that she would let it slip out that her trunks had been confiscated by soldiers on her journey, and she had just barely escaped attack herself. But that would be buying into their game again, so she held her tongue. “Miz Leah, you knows you can’t be going to any town, and you are still in mourning, so you have to wear black, “ Hettie told her, in a serious tone, and continued stirring whatever she was stirring. Aha, Leah thought, I’ve got them now. They can’t continue this charade if I leave the grounds. “And why would that be, Hettie?” “Soldiers, Miz Leah, the war! Mista Brant said we shouldn’t leave the house at all, that Confederates are headin’ this way even as we speak.” Leah was surprised that the woman had come up with such a good answer to her challenge. It fit right in with the date Brant had given her last night, June 1863. She remembered from busloads of high school field trips that Gettysburg had been a huge battle sight in July of that year. One of the few perks of growing up in Walnut Grove, Maryland was the close proximity to the Pennsylvania battlefields. The other was that her favorite television show as a child had been Little House on the Prairie, and their tiny town was also named Walnut Grove. “Hettie, I need to get out of here for a while, war or no war. How far is it to town?’ “Too far to walk, if that’s what you are wantin’ to do,” the maid replied, pouring a creamy orange batter into a dish. The tone she used sounded familiar to Leia, but she couldn’t place where she’d heard it before. “What are you making?” “Pumkin pie, it is Mista Patrick’s favorite. We put up enough pumkin every year so he can have pie year ’round.” “Um, sounds good. Hettie, is there a car—carriage I could use?” Leia decided to play along for the moment, to get what she wanted. “Yes’m, there is. But it’s hidden away. You’d need to speak with Mista Patrick. He don’ want no soldiers confiscatin’ it.” “Confiscating what?” The women had not heard Brant enter the room. They turned to look at him, and Leia saw worry, or suspicion, crinkling the handsome face. “Good morning, Brant,” Leia began, “I was just asking Hettie if I could take the carriage into town.” She smiled at him, even batting her eyelashes. She wished that she had mascara to enhance them. “No, I’m afraid that would be too dangerous. May I ask why you wish to go?” “Well, I need to purchase clothing,” she said, “and shoes. Aunt Martha did not seem to approve of my dress last night, and the rest of my clothing was stolen.” Not exactly a lie, she thought, I just don’t happen to have the rest of my 1990’s wardrobe handy. Where did Jason move my clothes to, anyway? “I can understand her concern. I, however, enjoyed your unique style. And with the war on, there’s not a great deal available in store clothing. Cotton is very precious now.” Brant spoke softly, a teasing tone in his voice. “Tell me, are all the ladies in Baltimore as lovely as you? If they are, the Confederates may never get any farther north than that.” “Oh, they won’t go through Baltimore,” Leia said, leaning against the wood counter. “And how do you know that?” Brant’s eyes had narrowed. She wasn’t sure how to answer him, she just remembered that the troops had come up more west than Baltimore. But she really couldn’t even be sure of that fact, not being an expert on the Civil War. Brant had crossed his arms in front of his body, and obviously wasn’t moving until he got a satisfactory response. Luckily, Martha entered the kitchen chattering happily. “Leah, oh good, here you are. We have received an invitation to the Bauer home, our neighbors. They’ve asked us to come for lunch, you, me and MaryKatherine. Won’t that be pleasant? We will have to walk, though, because Patrick insists the carriage stay hidden. Come with me, dear, we have to see if MaryKatherine has more sturdy shoes you can borrow. You will never make it on those scanty things you wear.” She rubbed her hands together, then wrung them as if worried. “Good morning Brant, Patrick would like to see you, he has some papers for you to sign. Witness, I think he said. Come, dear,” Martha said, pulling Leia from the room before Brant could say a word. Leia smiled at Martha’s wonderful timing, but was reminded of Martin and grew anxious wondering what had happened to him. She hoped he hadn’t been hurt by the perpetrators of this sham. The realization that she was leaving the property cheered her. Although it wasn’t freedom to seek out the civilization of a town, she should be able to spot inconsistencies or staged settings. And once she could determine that this was a hoax with certainty, she could demand that it be brought to an end. Or, at the very least, she could make an escape. Martha handed her a cloak and a pair of spool-heeled ankle boots, and Leia wondered why her own shoes wouldn’t work for a walk next door. She’d always thought of the granny boots as sturdy. She did not have long to wonder; after the first quarter-mile her feet hurt. Neighbors weren’t close in modern Walnut Grove, but this was ridiculous. The air was warm from sun and humidity; the weather seemed just like a normal June day. The grass was as tall as their knees in some places, and Leia noticed that a good mowing was in order. She also noted with some trepidation that the Smith house, the neighboring white stone house, was missing.
“May I have more water?” he asked, watching Hettie perform her daily work. The pies she created for the family were only a tiny part of the duties Brant knew she did. Willingly. At her nod, Brant poured his own water from a glazed brown pitcher. “Mista Brant,” Hettie began, still keeping her eyes on her current project. “Why do you suppose Miz Leah wanted that carriage?” Brant’s cup thudded to the counter beside him. “I’m sure she was sincere about needing dresses. What she was wearing last evening, was strange in some way.” Hettie turned to him, wiping her flour coated hands on a rough towel. “May I speak?” Brant passed a hand through his hair, loosening it from his damp forehead. “Of course.” “Why did Miz Leah follow you back to the cellar last night?” “Another question, Hettie, that I can’t find a ready answer for.” Hettie nodded, slowly, her dark eyes solemn. Brant noticed she had sprouted a few greying strands lately. “She is lovely. Far more than that Belle woman. Could cause a body to lose its head, if you know what I mean.” “Don’t worry. Mine is on very tightly.” At her pointed glance, he added, “And it has been ever since Margaret. Still, there’s always reason for caution when so much is at stake.” He reached for his cup again. “And go on like usual?” He stared at Hettie, weighing possibilities in his head. “We must. There’s too much to do to let fear stop us. Agreed?” “Yes sir.” She straightened, holding her lower back with one hand. “Too much to do, and too little time.”
A circular dirt driveway led them to the porch that ran the entire front of the house. The white brick only made the house look larger, as did the doorway that was wide enough to hang four standard-size doors. “Thank you for the shoes, MaryKatherine. I had no idea how far we would walk,” Leia whispered to the young woman as they climbed the white brick steps to the porch. If she concentrated on her feet, she couldn’t start to freak out about the impossible scenery. The door was opened by a large black man, who was dressed very nicely in a grey suit of some sort. The McGarland group was ushered inside, and Leia stared in awe at the curving staircase they faced. As a white-haired woman in a blue gown was introduced to her, Leia began to feel dizzy. “My dear, you look quite ill! Please, come in and rest,” the woman offered, startled by Leia’s pale and damp appearance. “Is it the heat?” “Thank you, Mrs. Bauer,” Leia whispered, allowing herself to be seated on a long bench. She saw Aunt Martha and their hostess tilt heads together, obviously discussing her odd behavior. MaryKatherine sat beside her and patted her hand sympathetically, as if she knew just how Leia felt. Fat chance, Leia thought. The prim and proper MaryKatherine McGarland would not, in a million years, understand what Leia faced. That this was really 1863, that this could not possibly be a hoax or scam, and unless she was insane, she had traveled back in time.
“This is very personal, Leah,” Martha had said, picking up her sewing. “Could it be that you are carrying a child? Feeling light headed and sick to the stomach are definite signs, you know.” Leia was surprised by the question, but recovered remembering Martha thought her recently widowed. “Why, no, that’s not possible. It has been a very long time since . . .” Leia had let her voice trail off, not finishing the indelicate sentence. She didn’t want to even imply such a thing could be possible and subject herself to some kind of barbaric medical examination. If anyone knew she was really a virgin, they’d know she wasn’t cousin Leah from Baltimore. And Leia knew enough about history to know she couldn’t afford to be cast out homeless in the midst of the Civil War. That could have worse consequences than risking her virginity to just anyone in the twentieth century. Aunt Martha had seemed to believe her, and told her to go upstairs and rest before dinner. And wasn’t it ironic that a twentieth-century virgin, an oddity from her sixteenth birthday forward, traveled one hundred and thirty years into the past to become an oddity again, in the most conservative of times, for that very same reason. Leia then began to worry about the real Leah showing up. What would happen then? There had to be a way back to the future, and Leia had to start looking. After dinner, she’d go down to the cellar again. She shivered. She remembered sitting just outside the cellar door many times, young and crossed-legged, waiting for something to happen. But now she’d have to ignore the prickly fear and search for a door back, after all, this whole mess had started when she left the basement through the wrong door, hadn’t it?
A very light breeze tickled the trees but had little effect on the humidity. Brant pushed sweat from his forehead as if he were swatting gnats. He must have sensed her approach, quiet though it was in a pair of MaryKatherine’s fabric slippers. The man and horse whirled around as one. “Leah! What are you doing out here without an escort?” His eyes blinked with anger. Leia’s stomach contracted, but she ignored his question, doubtful it was her safety he was really concerned about. “Are you waiting for someone?” That she should feel even the smallest jolt of jealousy irritated her. His blustery gaze settled down around her, and Leia shivered despite the heat. “Are you following me?” Amazed that a human spine could be as stiff and straight as his, Leia shook her head slowly. “Of course not. But I didn’t realize you were being so secretive out here.” She started to add a line about this being a free country, but thought better of it. “Shall I head in the other direction?” He stared down at her, having the advantage of higher elevation. Leia had come on foot, hoping to meet Brant in a comfortable situation. This accusatory reaction was not what she had imagined. He didn’t know her well, of course, but why was he so suspicious? The breeze increased to a wind from the south, suddenly as if to usher in change. Brant’s expression softened then, and before she knew what was happening Leia was on the horse in front of him, legs draped gracefully over one side of the animal. His height allowed Brant to see over her head as the mare trotted farther away from the McGarland property. Leia’s heart beat quicker as she drew a whiff of Brant’s clean, woollen scent mixed with pine and horse. She smiled and relaxed her shoulder muscles. Wherever he was headed, she was along for the ride.
Brant motioned for her to be quiet, as he tilted his head in listening posture. Soon Leah, too, heard the shuffling feet among dry pine needles. She gave up any ideas she’d had that he was meeting a woman. “Stay here,” he told her in his soldier’s voice. “Be careful,” was the best she could whisper in reply, not knowing what he was about. Were they in enemy territory? He nodded, handed her the lead and strode to greet the couple emerging from the trees.
The trio kept looking around, as if they feared being watched. Brant’s hand reached to the small of the woman’s back, steadying her and guiding her in his chosen direction. It was a gesture of gentlemanly manners, completely acceptable for a soldier to a lady, yet unheard of between races in the 1860’s. Yet another anachronism sent shivers down her arms, despite the heat. Leia could almost feel that large hand on her back, warm and firm as the lumbar support in her car. A man, obviously the woman’s husband, moved behind her and looked to Brant with pure hero-worship in his eyes. Leia could see that from where she waited. Conversation she wasn’t privy to lasted for three or four minutes, peppered by vigorous head-shaking and shoulder-clasping. Brant crossed back to where she waited. “Leah, come out.” Carefully she stepped in front of him, offering a shy smile. He took her elbow. “Something has happened, and since you’re here with us, I need to be able to trust you now. Can I depend on your silence?” Leia looked up into his eyes. “Of course.” Without a doubt, Brant had her loyalty. And although it may not be the appropriate response for a gentle lady, she knew it was the right thing to do. Time may not last long for Leia in this world, and she wanted to spend some of it with this chocolate-eyed soldier. If she could help a few unfortunate people along the way, so much the better.
She hadn’t asked any questions, either, which was a relief. Soon enough, she’d know exactly what was going on and his part in it all. Would she then turn from him in disgust? Not if she was half the woman she seemed to be today. He reminded himself that trusting a female before had ended in disaster. “Where are we?” she asked, breaking his silent train of thought. He smiled as he watched her dismount and rub her backside. “It’s probably better if you don’t know. But there’s a cabin around that bend in the creek, and we need to see these two there safely.” He held his breath, waiting for the questions to begin. Margaret had always asked pointed questions, annoying and potentially dangerous ones. When Leah remained silent, he led the small party across a stony-edged stream, following its curves from a clearing into a deeper section of pines. The heat of the day lessened under the tree cover, but the air still hung heavily around their heads. “There,” he said, tilting his head. “Just a few yards away, hidden in the trees.” He lapsed into silence, and the group followed, quiet as well. The cabin was rustic and neglected; the timber shivered like matches ready to spark. The door, rough, splintered wood, swayed in and out though the air was still. “Looks haunted,” Leah said, whispering while testing the stability of a floor plank with one foot. “What did you say?” “Nothing.” The four were inside the cabin then, looking at the interior of the vacant shack. “Leah, this is John and Bitsy. That’s all you should know. It’s all that’s safe for you to know.” He watched her face, scrutinizing it for her thoughts. What did she think about all of this? But Brant didn’t learn anything, because she only nodded and smiled demurely at the others. She turned to inspect each of the dusty corners, while John and Bitsy settled their poorly clad frames on the cracked wooden floor. Brant leaned near the man’s head. “I’ll be back for you after dark falls. Get some rest while you can.” To the woman he said, “Are you certain you want to do this? We don’t know where you’re destined for, and you may never see anyone here again.” Bitsy reached for his roughened hand, grasping it between her own, work-calloused ones. “Anyplace would be better, Mista Brant. I wanta raise my baby myself. We can never thank ya enough.” “There’s no need.” He whispered this, turning away. “God bless you,” she said, wiping a tear from her face. “And God be with both of you, wherever that may be.” http://www.newconceptspublishing.com/thewilloftime.htm |
ettie, I would like to go into town today. Martha doesn’t approve of my attire, and I’d like to do some shopping,” Leia said, tying a coarse apron over the black dress she’d borrowed. She felt surprisingly good, having slept well on the feathery mattress of the green guest room. Martha had seen her to bed personally, providing a nightgown straight from the eighteen-hundreds. It had not looked old enough to be an actual antique, and Leia had again been impressed by the thoroughness of the scam-designers. She had lain awake a short time expecting Jason to make an appearance, but he did not. The night was quiet except for the crickets, silence overwhelming everything else.
s the small group rounded a bend in the dirt carriage-walk, Leia drew in her breath. Where the Foster’s cedar-shingled rancher should be was a three-story brick mansion. She felt a pit form and begin to burn at the bottom of her stomach. Her palms were sweating profusely.
or some reason, the realization that one had traveled through time was no less frightening than finding one was being victimized by scam artists. The only major difference Leia could think of was that there was no great danger imminent from the “players” themselves. Martha, MaryKatherine, and old Patrick were her ancestors, not criminals. And Brant, he was just a good-looking soldier from the Union army. These thoughts swirled through Leia’s mind as she dressed for dinner. Her illness, although it was actually just strange behavior, Aunt Martha had said, was why they had left the Bauers’ home almost as soon as they had arrived. Leia knew Aunt Martha had been embarrassed, and the old woman had even taken Leia aside when they got home to discuss her physical status.
hen Leia caught up with Brant, he was well on his way to the neighboring property. He looked immense atop the mare; she could almost picture him charging into a medieval battle, strong as a fortress, ready to do battle for what he believed in.
eia had lost all sense of direction when Brant finally stopped and helped her dismount. The feel of his hands at her sides made her tingle, and she sighed as he released the grip.