The Will of Time Read online

  "My Grandfather was always allergic to animals. Sara has a cat, but they make me sneeze. I guess growing up on a farm you had a lot of animals."

  He nodded, accepting the plate she held out. "Thank you. Once, a hunter from another county wandered too close and shot one of our horses in the leg. My uncle tried to save him, and I was so angry I nearly set the barn on fire again. My father found the man, who offered to pay for the horse, but we didn't take money from him. The life he took was more important than that."

  They sat in silence, then, eating the chicken, bread and tomatoes.

  "I never knew how good tomatoes were until I met you," he said, finishing the last of his food.

  "I never knew how good a lot of things were until I met you." She felt her cheeks begin to vie with the tomatoes for color, but it was the truth.

  The air was unusually dry for mid-summer, making the day cooler, and Leia's hair less frizzy, even in the sun. She joined Brant, who now stretched out on his back, staring up at the bluest sky...a color Leia had never seen in her modern world, not just because she hadn't been looking, but because this particular shade of blue didn't exist then. not in nature, not in a Crayola box.

  Holding clasped hands between them, Leia allowed her eyes to close as Brant's had. The birds, orioles, she thought, singing sadly, were almost obliterated by the white noise of all the insects. This would make a great audio-therapy tape, she thought.

  It would be easy to lay here, feeling happy and content in this natural setting, where she could imagine the taste of the watermelons Martin had cut up and served on lazy summer days, but she couldn't forget that the blues and greens she saw here were running red with soldiers fighting not too far away. She couldn't completely forget, not even for a picnic's worth of time, that men were taking each other's lives on the battlefields and in the cotton fields.

  "So how many people have you helped? Have you been doing this long?"

  He hesitated, then spoke, confirming what she had imagined. "It's been a few years." He rolled from his back to his side, facing Leia. "We've probably helped forty or fifty make good escapes. Why?"

  "That's wonderful, Brant. I was just curious, and wondering how many came through the cellar door while I was home, or not home, and if Martin was there to help. How did they blend into society?"

  "I'm sure there are connections in your world, beyond your house, to help. I don't know the connections that happen before me here. I don't concern myself with anything past getting them away from here. I'm just part of the chain."

  "You're always impressing me. What a team player!"

  "That's one way to think of it. The problem with being only a small link is that it feels I've only helped a small number, and that even as a team, as you say, we've only made a small mark in the number of slaves who need us."

  "You've made a huge mark. Not only did you save the adults, but any children they might have, too, and not just from captivity. You saved them from the rotten times ahead in history, after the war.

  "What do you mean?" Propped on one elbow, Brant looked adorable to Leia. She leaned down and kissed his mouth before replying.

  "After the South's surrender, the whole country is shell shocked for a while. I don't remember a lot of details from history class, but people called carpet baggers from the North swooped down on the South to make their lives miserable. Lincoln did free the slaves with the Emancipation Proclamation, but most of them had no where to go. Many of them stayed with their white families, but the plantation owners were wiped out by then, and couldn't pay them, some couldn't feed themselves." In Leia's mind, she pictured Tara after the war. Even though the mansion still stood when its neighbors did not, Scarlett's family had little to eat.

  Long minutes passed in silence. Leia plucked a few dandelions from the grass and toyed with their yellow petals.

  "We all know what you say could happen. We just don't want to admit it. Tell me, are blacks treated so much better in the next century?"

  "That's a tough question. To a degree, they are, but every ethnic group gets treated poorly somewhere in the world. And they're not called blacks or darkies, or any other derogatory terms. They're referred to as African Americans, and that's exactly what they are. They are respected members of society, for the most part. A certain part still has it really rough, though."

  "Oh."

  "Brant, don't be disappointed. If Martin's been helping everyone you sent forward, they'll be so much better off than they were here. There's more opportunity in the twentieth century. You have done a wonderful thing, you and Hettie, and MaryKatherine. Wonderful."

  Brant warmed under his wife's praise. He wasn't doing it for personal gain, but when an activity is so secret, and must be clandestine to continue, one wasn't accustomed to hearing accolades. He reached over and rested a hand on her arm. It was warm from the sun.

  The summer wouldn't last, though, and the McGarland farm needed a lot of work before cold weather arrived. Carroll County could get very nasty by December. He would have to ask around for someone to come and help Patrick if he wasn't here...or able.

  Leia must be right about the post war problems. He'd seen enough dead husbands, soldiers and slaves, to know the world would never be the same. It seemed the best way to go on, and stay sane, was to focus on his part of the service, the traveling.

  It had brought him Leia.

  "Penny for your thoughts," she said, tapping his shoulder.

  He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes. "That cent will buy you a lot of thoughts."

  "Not in my time."

  Brant looked up at her now. "Did MaryKatherine put your hair up like that?"

  "Yes, do you like it?" She patted the crocheted cover holding it in place.

  "Come here," he said, and when she complied, he pulled the little blue cover free. Her golden hair fell around Leia's shoulders, and Brant pushed the locks back away from her face. One stray strand caught in the little blue thing, so he gently worked it free. "Your hair is too pretty to hide."

  She laughed. "Well, I'm an old married woman now, not a young girl looking for a husband. I have to look respectable, at least according to Aunt Martha."

  "And you remember that, Mrs. Douglas." He pulled her closer for another kiss, enjoying the teasing banter they'd started. They may have given up courting time, but this in many ways was better because after playing all day, he could take her upstairs.

  Cannons rumbled in the distance. Brant sat up and looked around, scouring the woods surrounding the property, his eyes narrowed, alert.

  Leia reached over and touched his shoulder, the warmth of her hand penetrating his thin shirt. "Relax. It's only thunder."

  Leia watched, relieved and happy that MaryKatherine was spending her afternoons with General Diamond. At times he appeared to be a romantic teenager, others a hardened soldier. MaryKatherine was treated to the adolescent side of his personality. The pair held hands and walked through the garden. They gazed into each others' eyes at dinner, though MaryKatherine ate little. Her delicate frame had lost a few pounds during the General's stay, a sure sign that she was in love.

  Patting her own rounding hips, Leia smiled. Here she was, hiding her cousin's extra five pounds under her hoop skirt. She could never have gotten away with that in the twentieth century, and would have been dieting obsessively. Once again, Leia found herself totally absorbed in this other life, this ancient time period. Shouldn't she be more concerned with getting back?

  Brant entered the parlor where Leia stood before the great window. Moving behind her, he slipped his arms about her waist and pressed a kiss onto her neck.

  She picked up a glass bottle from the windowsill, one shaped exactly like her own body. "Do you like this shape, Brant?" she asked, forcing him to raise his head.

  "I like your shape," he said, disregarding the piece of glass to resume his nuzzling.

  There were too many layers of skirt in the way for Leia to press herself against him, but she tried when his hands reached her
breasts. Her head whipped around to ensure no one else had entered the room.

  "No one's watching, Leia," he said, taking further liberties. "I could lift your skirts right here and..."

  "Brant! If Martha caught us doing that she'd have a coronary."

  "What's that?"

  Leia shook her head, and caught a glimpse of movement outside. "Look."

  Brant leaned over her shoulder and drew back the heavy draperies. Cheek to cheek they watched MaryKatherine and General Diamond stroll toward them, hand in hand. They didn't seem concerned that the downpour threatened to start any minute.

  "Would you look at that?" Leia whispered, noticing MaryKatherine's disheveled hair and clothes.

  "I would, but I'd rather look at you."

  "I knew that low cut black dress would work. Some things are timeless. Do you think that she is the only reason he's still here?"

  "The General was not given permanent command of his troops after General Reynold's death, Leia. After serving the Union so well by holding off the Rebs that first day at Gettysburg, he expected a promotion. Instead, he feels demoted and taken advantage of."

  "Guess he's not a happy camper," Leia said, still watching him from the window.

  Brant looked outside, ignoring the strange comment. "He's not happy, unless MaryKatherine is working magic on him."

  "Well, it certainly appears that way. She must be helping him with the bitterness. Here they come, and they're smiling." Leia smoothed her own hair and slipped into the foyer to greet her love swept cousin.

  As Leia followed MaryKatherine up to her room, she overheard Diamond speaking to Brant. Thunder crashed louder, closer to the house. The General's serene mood had seemed to disappear, replaced by callous authority.

  "Brant, I need to speak with you, in private. It's about your wife."

  A crisp tension filled the air, as Brant led General Diamond to the library. Worse than the impending storm, the formality of their meeting raised the hairs on Brant's neck, as he took a chair and waited.

  Diamond perched on the corner of Patrick's desk, looking as uncomfortable as Brant imagined he felt emotionally. What was this all about, and why the secrecy?

  Brant broke the tension. "Does this have anything to do with Torin?"

  "Your brother? No, it doesn't. But where is Torin? I expected to see him here."

  "Just taking care of some personal things," Brant said, wishing he hadn't brought it up. He'd have enough explaining to do later if Torin didn't return. "What do you have to say concerning Leah?"

  "How long have you known your wife, Brant?" Diamond spoke in a quiet voice, leaning forward to hear the response.

  "Not long. As I told you in camp that night, we really just met. I compromised her, and Patrick insisted we marry. Why do you ask?"

  "So you have never met anyone else that knows her, that has known her since childhood?"

  "Well, of course the McGarlands have known her since she was a baby."

  "I mean, now that she's an adult, can anyone confirm this young lady's identity as that of Leah Graham of Baltimore?" The General's voice grew frustrated.

  Brant's mind recalled the plastic card he'd found, and Leia's claims to be from the future. What could he tell this man?

  "I thought not," Diamond said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell me this, Brant, does your wife know Belle Boyd?"

  Brant ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, we all do. She's a friend of the family."

  "A friend? Do you know what you're saying?" Diamond coughed deeply from his lungs, his face reddening.

  "No, obviously I don't. What's going on, sir?"

  "Belle Boyd has a record of several arrests. She has been detained and questioned on different occasions for conveying information to the south. Brant, the woman you call Belle Boyd is suspected of being a spy...Known to be a spy for the Confederacy."

  Brant swallowed back an exclamation, instead rising to pace the floor. "I had no idea."

  "Are you sure? No clue, no hint from her actions?" He sat back, his arms crossed in silent disbelief.

  "She has always asked a lot of questions," Brant admitted, urging his mind to recollect events previously considered trivial.

  "What kind of questions?"

  "About the war. She just seemed interested, concerned about our welfare. She flirted. She made conversation, and she always asked questions about our plans. It all seemed innocent enough." Oh Heavenly Father, he had been one of the fools who provided her with information. He had aided a spy.

  Brant sat back down in the chair, heavy with disappointment and guilt. Belle had been seen with Leia, himself, Torin and now Jason. She could be placed talking with every member of the McGarland family. "Are you certain it was her?"

  Diamond nodded. "That's not all of it."

  "What else?" As he barked out the question, he remembered Diamond saying something about Leia. This could not be leading to anything good.

  The General cleared his throat. "Well, Brant, it has come to the army's attention that Belle and Leah have become good friends, and have traveled together during these past few weeks. Now, it may or may not mean anything, but they were seen together the night she came to camp, just before Gettysburg. The night you sent her home alone, as I recall."

  Brant felt his stomach contract with fear. "Sir?"

  "I'm sorry, Brant, but it looks as if Leah has been working for the South. I'll need to question her tomorrow." He looked toward the window, as if uncomfortable with his news.

  "And then?" What would they do to her?

  "I'm not sure. It depends on what we learn. I am sorry it's your wife involved."

  "We? Who's we?" Brant began to drip sweat.

  "I can't question her alone. You know that. I've sent for military investigators."

  "General! This is my wife you're talking about. She's no spy! This sounds like a formal inquisition! Where's Belle? She'll tell you that Leah is nothing to her, nothing to her efforts. She can clear all of this up."

  "We're searching for her. Until we find her, we must proceed. Too many good men gave up their lives in Gettysburg, Brant. Our plans were traded to the Rebs. It must have come from someone who had access to the information. Traitors must be punished."

  Brant swallowed hard. He opened his mouth to protest further, but closed it again, remembering Leia's night time trip to his camp. They had been on their way to Gettysburg, and fresh from the McGarland library where they had discussed plans for the ambush. And she had been there, sipping brandy too strong for her and looking delicate. Or acting delicate. And listening.

  "Brant, are you all right? I know this is a shock."

  "I need to think, sir. Would you leave me, please? I'm not going anywhere."

  The General patted Brant's shoulder on his way from the room. "You're a good man," he said, leaving him then in silence.

  Brant moved for the brandy decanter, pouring himself a generous portion. Had he been a fool all along? At first he had been incensed by the General's accusations, but as he calmed, the things the general said made sense. Leia had shown up in a place where she would not be recognized. She had been secretive about her past. She had talked and ridden with Belle Boyd. ...And she had let him touch her so soon after their meeting, with little hesitation or shyness. Could she have gone along with the marriage because it would further her treacherous career? Now she knew all about his underground work, too.

  A soft tap on the door brought Brant from his reflections. "Come in."

  "Brant, are you okay?" Leia slipped into the room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. Her eyebrows drew together.

  He looked at her, searching her face for the truth, but in all honesty, she looked like she always had, pretty and sincere. His gaze met hers and they both stared deeply, neither comprehending what the other was thinking.

  "Brant? What is it? I heard the General mention me." She moved to the fireplace and touched the mantle, staring down into the fire as if she sensed the danger.


  Where could he start? Should he start? If there were any truth at all to Diamond's fears, she could be a great actress, pretending to care for him while she collected information, and yet, he was certain he'd taken her virginity on their wedding night, and wouldn't a spy have given herself to many men? If she had truly been the widowed cousin from Baltimore, she would have been with her husband before him, however.

  "Leia, come here," he said, shaking mental cobwebs from his mind. All the questions were getting him nowhere. Hadn't he trusted her with the escaping slaves? Perhaps she hadn't realized what was going on around her. Nothing had been said or confirmed, until today.

  "I love you," he said, pulling her to him. He sat in the chair and wrapped his arms about her small waist.

  "Brant, I love you too. What's wrong? What did the General say?" She pushed his hair from his forehead, caressing his skin.

  Burying his face in her dress, he hugged her tight. "Nothing important. War talk." He decided to prove her trustworthiness by involving her in the next day's escape.

  Leia pushed his head backward, so she could look into his eyes. Without either of them speaking, he knew she knew he was holding something back. She didn't question him further, or make demands. She trusted him. He wanted to reciprocate. Didn't they all have secrets? Tomorrow, she'd witness another one of his.

  Chapter 17

  "You need to wear something to really attract his attention," Sandy said, watching Torin discuss the Battle of Gettysburg with a half dozen re-enactors. "He's dreamy."

  Sara smiled. "Yeah, he is. Somehow, I seem to already have his attention." On cue, Torin smiled at her from across the stage, sending her stomach to her toes. "Can you believe it?"

  Sandy looked at her watch. "Sara, rehearsal was great, but I gotta run. I'll see you at the show." She gathered her purse and an overflowing totebag of accessories.

  "And we'll be design school graduates. Stop by my place after the show, Torin and I are having a few people over." Sara continued to watch Torin entertaining the troops, tapping a rifle on the wood floor, the echoes punctuating his words.