A World Apart (The Hands of Time: Book 3) (2 page)

Finn glanced at the cloudless aquamarine sky, judging the position of the sun.  It was probably around 8 a.m., and he was
getting hungry.  He had plenty of time before he was due to meet his friends, despite the three-hour walk ahead of him, so he chose a dry, fallen log, and hung up his sack off a branch to prevent the tobacco from getting damp.  He’d made himself breakfast before leaving the house this morning, and sat down to enjoy his meal.  The cider in the stone bottle was cool and refreshing as it slid down his throat.  Finn closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the peace of the forest.  A thrush was singing somewhere in the distance, mingling with the ever-present rustling of leaves and breaking of dry twigs as small animals darted to and fro beneath the undergrowth.  The rays of the sun piercing the canopy of the forest were getting warmer, and quickly evaporating the dew on the leaves and grass. 

Finn had always loved the woods.  It wasn’t just the
game that attracted him, but the peaceful balance of nature, so lacking in their overcrowded house.  These days he needed the escape more than ever.  Baby Evangeline was always howling, and little Louisa went from being a sweet little girl to a moody, brooding witch.  His mother said it was normal at this age, and would eventually pass, but Finn had his doubts.  Louisa was growing into a woman, after all, and women were quite beyond his understanding. 

Thinking of women
reminded Finn of the Indian girl he’d seen the last time he met his friends by the waterfall.  He promised his father he’d never go back there after breaking his leg two years ago, but he was drawn there nonetheless.  The spot was beautiful, and Finn was intrigued by the Indians he’d heard while hiding in the cave.  It didn’t take long for him to make contact, and now they met routinely to trade, smoke a pipe, and tell stories.  Many people feared the Indians, especially after what happened in March, but Finn wasn’t afraid.  His family had never interfered with the natives, and the local Indians felt no resentment toward the Whitfields. 

Finn only knew a few words of their language, and they knew even less English, but they managed to communicate using hands, and even drawing pictures in the dirt to illustrate their point.  The Indians were as curious about him as he was about them. 
Finn didn’t really need the things he traded for, but he craved the companionship of boys his own age.  He enjoyed the company of his father and uncles, but it wasn’t the same as having friends.  Finn met some other young men his age at church, but they came mostly from Jamestown and didn’t share his interests.  They would follow in their fathers’ footsteps, becoming tradesmen and landowners.  Tobacco was the currency of the colony and the quickest path to comfort and prosperity.  Finn would become a landowner as well, but for the time being, he could indulge his other interests and let his father deal with the daily responsibilities of running a tobacco plantation.  It would be years until his father passed on the reins, and Finn was in no hurry.

Finn’s
Indian friends were of the Algonquian tribe; one of the many tribes making up the powerful Powhatan Chiefdom.  Each tribe still had its own lands and chief, but there was also a head chief of whom Finn thought as the King.  His friends told him that the Powhatan had lived in Virginia for thousands of years before white man came, and numbered in the thousands.  Finn never dared to go to their village despite overwhelming curiosity to see how they lived.  The villagers would scalp him first and ask questions later. 

Finn
was happy to meet by the waterfall once a month and hear his friends’ stories. The three braves that always came were Achak, whose name meant Spirit in Algonquian, Keme – Thunder, and Mingan – Gray Wolf, for the wolf he killed when he was seven.  From time to time, one or two other young men showed up, but Finn didn’t consider them to be friends.  The braves wore clothes made of deerskin to protect them from scratches and bites, and moccasins on their feet.  The right side of their head was shaved while the hair on the left side was left long, and frequently braided and decorated with trophies of the kill, such as feathers and fangs.  Finn thought that was terribly strange until he understood the reason for the odd hairstyle.  Indian men shaved the right side of their head to avoid having arrows getting caught in their hair while hunting. 

The last time they met, Keme’s sister, Sokanon
, tagged along.  Keme joked that her name meant “rain” because of all the crying she did when she was a baby.  Finn thought that would be a suitable name for Evangeline.  Sokanon was the first Indian girl Finn had ever met.  He’d seen some Indian women in Jamestown, their baskets full of corn and cradleboards strapped to their backs; the infants gazing at the world around them from their upright position on the mother’s back, but he’d never seen a girl his own age.  He tried not to stare at the brown skin of her arms and bare legs, but his eyes kept straying of their own accord.  She wore a leather dress and some sort of beaded necklace, her hair hanging halfway down her back, black and shiny as a raven’s wing, with a single thin braid on the left side, decorated with a few feathers.  She hid behind the men, taking discreet peeks at Finn and giggling behind her hand.  He must have looked strange to her as well.

Later that night in his bed, Finn tried to imagine what Sokanon looked like under her leather attire, but his mind drew a blank.  He’d never seen an unclothed woman
and had only a vague idea of what to do with one.  His father had tried to talk to him when he was fourteen, but Finn hadn’t been ready to listen.  He’d been terribly embarrassed, especially when he woke up in the mornings with his nightshirt soiled.  He tried to wash the telltale stains away, but then the shirt was wet and the maid assumed that he’d wet himself, which was even worse. 

Eventually
, he asked Uncle Charles.  Being only eleven years older than Finn, Charles was more like an older brother than an uncle, and only too happy to oblige.  Charles explained the basic facts of female anatomy and advised Finn to pleasure the woman first, but only if he cared for her.  If not, it was fine to pleasure himself.  Finn wasn’t really sure what he meant by that, but felt too foolish to ask. 

Charles suggested that Finn might start paying attention to
Minnie, who took over as maid of all work after Agnes left to marry Richard last month.  Minnie was slight and pretty, with a shy smile and beautiful dark eyes.  She was quick to blush every time Finn looked at her, and Charles thought she might be a willing participant in Finn’s education, but Finn had his doubts.  Minnie and her father had come over from England a few weeks ago; leaving their fishing village behind in search of a new start after a tragedy had torn their family apart.  Minnie’s mother died of childbed fever -- her newborn twins with her.  Minnie never spoke of her loss, but a terrible sadness lurked just beneath the surface, always there in her eyes.  Finn secretly wished that he could do something to ease her pain.  He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for her to be torn away from everything and everyone and brought across the ocean to a dangerous and untamed land by a father who was mad with grief.  He might have wanted to get away from the place where he’d known so much pain, but he obviously hadn’t given much thought to his fifteen-year-old daughter, selling her into indentured labor for seven years and leaving her to live among strangers.    

Finn had to admit that he found Minnie very attractive, but he didn’t want to hurt her in any way or ruin her chances of a good marriage.  He’d be more than happy to
take a walk together or steal a kiss, but he thought himself too much a gentleman to take her maidenhead.  She’d been through enough and deserved better than to be used and callously discarded. 

Finn finished his roll and cider and rose from the log, ready to continue his walk.

The house was strangely silent as Valerie came down the stairs.  Normally at this time
, everyone was coming down for breakfast and discussing their plans for the day, but today there was hardly anyone about.  Alec was still shaving upstairs; Finn had gone, and little Louisa had asked to spend a few days with Charles and Annabel in Jamestown.  She enjoyed playing with their son Harry, who was just starting to walk, and toddled everywhere on his chubby legs, grabbing anything he could reach.  Valerie peeked into the dining room, but found it empty and went down the hall toward the kitchen.  She found Mrs. Dolly kneading dough while making silly faces at baby Evie, who was lying happily in the crook of Kit’s arm as he tried to eat breakfast single-handedly. 

“
Good morning, Valerie,” Kit said through a mouthful of bread, taking a gulp of ale to wash it down.  “Louisa was up half the night with Evie, so I thought I’d let her sleep awhile.  She seems to like the kitchen.”  He looked proudly at his daughter, whose coal-black eyes were taking in her surroundings with considerable interest. 

“Let me take her, so you can breakfast in peace.”  Valerie scooped up her niece, planting a kiss on the tip of her nose.  The baby resembled Kit so much that it was impossible to find any traces of Louisa in her little face. 
Kit looked up with gratitude, resuming his breakfast with both hands. 

“I have some business at the docks this morning.  Will Alec be
joining me?  I would be happy to fetch little Louisa home from Charles’ house.  The house seems awfully quiet without her.” 

“No one is throwing a temper tantrum if that’s what you mean.
”  Valerie had found Louisa incredibly difficult to deal with these past few months.  She was sullen one minute, giddy the next, but tears never seemed to be too far away.  Valerie couldn’t recall being so volatile at fourteen, but her sister assured her that she was an absolute monster and should have patience with her temperamental daughter, who didn’t have the outlets Valerie and Louisa had during their own teenage years.  It had to be difficult for her to be stuck at home most of the time with no girls her own age for company.  Thank God there was Minnie.  Valerie liked the girl immensely and hoped that she would be a good influence on Louisa.  They came from different backgrounds and social classes, but they were teenage girls, and Valerie often caught them giggling together or taking a walk around the lake after Minnie had finished her chores for the day. 

“Where’s Finn?”  Kit
interrupted Valerie’s thoughts as he rose from the table, kissing the top of Evie’s head.  She was wearing a bonnet that had belonged to little Louisa when she was a baby, but strands of jet-black hair escaped, framing her face in angelic curls. 

“
Finn left early this morning, no doubt to avoid another lecture from me.  Any idea where he went?”  Valerie didn’t actually expect an answer.  Even if Kit knew anything of Finn’s activities, he’d never snitch on him.  Kit had genuinely taken to Finn when he came to live at Rosewood Manor, and would never betray him willingly.  She supposed that was admirable, but wished that the men would stop treating her like a worrywart.

“Don’t fret, Valerie. 
I know he tries your patience sorely, but he is safe.  That’s all that matters.”  Kit took a last sip of his ale just as Alec came down the stairs.  “Are you coming to the docks with me, Alec?”

“Why don’t you saddle the horses while I break my fast?  I will be out
shortly.”  Alec was already reaching for a roll and pouring himself a cup of ale.  Valerie hoisted the baby on her shoulder, wishing she had a modern carriage. 

“Let’s go for a walk Evie, and let your mom sleep.  She’s earned it, poor thing.  Now, what were you fussing about last night, you naughty girl?”  Valerie asked affectionately as she headed out the door into the glorious October morning. 

It was so pleasant out that Evie didn’t even need a blanket to keep her warm.  They would take a walk by the lake, and then Valerie would join Lou for breakfast once she was up, and Evie was fed yet again.  Valerie had forgotten how much work a newborn was.  Come to think of it, where was Bridget this morning?  Normally, she was up at dawn, but she hadn’t come down yet.  She was probably enjoying the peace and quiet and getting some much-needed rest.

**

Valerie was just coming back to the house, having worked up an appetite, when she spotted something in the distance.  Alec and Kit had left not half an hour ago, so it couldn’t be them, unless they’d forgotten something.  Valerie shielded her eyes from the sun and focused on the road.  It was a solitary rider, his mule ambling down the road at glacial speed.  The road led directly to Rosewood Manor, so the visitor must be for them, which was unusual.  Valerie went into the house and handed over Evie to Louisa, who was in the dining room, looking tired and worn from her sleepless night. 

“Someone is coming, and it looks like a stranger,” Valerie announced. 
“I’ll go see who it is.  Where is Bridget this morning?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t seen her, and even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have noticed.  I’m still half asleep.  The little princess kept me up half the night, and look at her now – sleeping like she doesn’t have a care in the world.”

“She doesn’t,” laughed Valerie.  “Mom always said you were a cranky baby.  Payback is a bitch.”  She giggled at the sour expression on her sister’s face and went back outside to greet their visitor, who was now within a short distance from the house. 

Valerie watched as the old man got closer, his mule in no rush to reach its destination.  The man’s breeches and coat were dusty from the ride, his curly wig
making his head look disproportionally large under his wide-brimmed hat.  There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Valerie couldn’t place him.  Maybe she’d seen him with Alec or Kit.  At any rate, he seemed harmless enough.  The man got off the mule with some difficulty and bowed to Valerie, lifting his hat off his dusty curls. 

“Mrs. Whitfield, I presume.  May I come in?”  The man clutched a leather satchel in his right hand, but he didn’t seem to be armed or dangerous.
He looked around, uncertain of what to do with his mule before tying him to a nearby post and turning his attention back to Valerie.

“
Who do I have the honor of addressing, sir?”  Valerie asked, stepping aside to allow the man to walk up the steps.  There were only four, but his breathing was labored by the time he reached the top, and he needed a moment to catch his breath before replying.

“Frederick Taylor at your
service.”  The man searched her face for signs of recognition as Valerie felt her extremities grow cold.  She wouldn’t have recognized him on her own since she’d seen him for only a few moments years ago, but she knew the name well.  What was he doing here now, after all these years?

“Come in, Mr. Taylor.  I must say, this is an unexpected pleasure,” added Valerie with a hint of sarcasm.  “My sister will be
happy to see you.”

“Ah, so she is here.  I am glad.  She was so determined to find you.  I tried to talk her out of it for fear
that she would be stranded in the past, but she wouldn’t be deterred.”  Mr. Taylor stopped next to Valerie, searching her face for signs of hostility, but Valerie kept her expression bland. 

“Yes.  She told me all about it.  Do come in.  You must be parched from your long ride.  A cup of ale?”  Valerie tried to focus on the mundane to slow her racing heart.  Why was he here
and what would induce him to come at this stage?  She led the old man into the dining room, watching Louisa’s mouth open and close in shock as she recognized the man under the wig.  Louisa tried to say something, but only a croak came out, prompting her to grab her cup of cider and drain it before attempting again.

“Mr. Taylor, what are you doing here?”  Louisa whispered as she took it his satchel.  “Did you bring the clock with you?”

Frederick Taylor set down the satchel next to a chair and sat down.  Close up, he looked exhausted and old; his face lined with wrinkles, his eyes squinting at the sleeping baby.  Valerie remembered that the man wore glasses, but he didn’t have them on now.  She poured him a cup of ale and moved the plate of rolls toward him, inviting him to help himself.  She’d been angry with him for a long time right after she found herself in the past, but all she felt now was pity.  She glanced over at Louisa who was white as a sheet, clutching Evie to her breast.

The old man took a long pull of ale, savoring its cool bitterness, before setting the cup down and turning to the sisters.  “As one gets older, one takes inventory of one’s life, searching for answers and trying to rationalize one’s mistakes.  I’ve been doing that for a few years now, but the mistakes I couldn’t rationalize had to do with you two. 

I must admit that I didn’t feel as guilty about Erzebet as I did about you, Valerie.  I’d warned Erzebet before she turned the hands of the clock.  She knew what would happen, but chose not to believe me.  You were just an innocent victim of my carelessness.  I knew at the time I should have gone after you, but I’d been a coward.  I was afraid of what you’d tell the police, so I left you to fend for yourself, hoping that you’d survive.”

Mr. Taylor looked at Valerie for a response, but she just watched him in silence, eyes narrowed.
  Her heartbeat was beginning to return to normal, and she was curious to hear what the man had to say.  He obviously had a reason for coming all that way, and it couldn’t be just to apologize.

“I did try to talk Louisa out of going back in time, but she was adamant, and in some small way I felt as if I
were atoning for what I’d done.  If you two were reunited, then I had done you a kindness.  But then, I saw the clock.  Louisa’s hand had shaken so badly that she turned the clock to the wrong time.  I had no idea if she would find you, Valerie, and I couldn’t rest not knowing what happened to you both.”  The old man took another sip of ale, his eyes never leaving Valerie’s face.  She knew he wanted her forgiveness, but she wasn’t ready to give it. 

“So, why now, Mr. Taylor?  Louisa had been here for over two years.  Surely, if you were so worried, you would have come sooner.”

“You’re right.  I should have, but I knew that Louisa would have to make the journey to America to search for you, and I thought I’d give her time before following.  I see that she overcame the odds and that you are both well and happy.”

“So, this journey was just to put your mind at rest that you’re not responsible for ruining our lives?  If that’s the case, then thanks for stopping by.”  Valerie turned to Louisa, waiting for her to say something, but Louisa remained silent, watching the old man.

“Actually, there was something else, Valerie.  I have a digital device that I’ve used to come here.  It’s not as cumbersome as the old clock, and much more precise.”  Mr. Taylor pulled up his sleeve, exposing the digital watch on his left wrist.  It looked like any modern watch, with a small screen and numbered buttons.  “I wanted to offer you the opportunity to return to the future, should you wish to.  I know that you’ve built a life for yourself here, but maybe you still long for the twenty-first century.”

Valerie gaped at the man in disbelief.  Was he serious?  He was watching her with an expression of undisguised expectation, as if she should fall at his feet overcome with gratitude.
 

“Mr. Taylor, had you come after me the day I wound up in the past, I would have happily returned with you, and thanked you for the rest of my life, but it’s too little too late now.  I’ve been here for seventeen years.  I have a husband and children.  Do you propose that I simply inform them that we
’re going to be transported nearly four hundred years into the future?  My husband knows the truth, but he’s the only one.  Even Louisa’s husband doesn’t know where she came from.  We thought it wise to keep that to ourselves.  I’m sorry your journey was in vain.”  Valerie sank into a chair, suddenly feeling worn out despite the early hour.  That was certainly one decision she hadn’t expected to be making today.

“Valerie, may I have a word in private?”  Louisa rose from her seat, baby Evie asleep on her shoulder, and walked out of the room, expecting Valerie to follow.  She didn’t stop until she was outside on the porch, away from anyone who might overhear.  Valerie reluctantly followed, terrified of what
Louisa might say.  Maybe she wanted to go back, and Valerie was presuming too much by rejecting Mr. Taylor’s offer.

“Val, I understand your anger, and you have every right to feel
as you do.  I would be furious with the man in your place, but don’t throw him out just yet.  I’m not saying I want to go back to the future, but this is our only chance to make that decision.  Once he’s gone, we are here for the rest of our lives.  Maybe we should discuss it with the men.  I know Alec longs for the future, and maybe it’s time I told Kit,” Louisa whispered.  “What do you say we let him spend the night?”

Valerie wiped beads of perspiration off her forehead, suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to pull of her cap.  She ran her hands through her
hair, turning her face to catch the gentle breeze before feeling composed enough to answer her sister.

“Lou, would you seriously consider it after all this time?  Say Alec and Kit were willing to leave, what would they do in the future?  Can you honestly imagine them sitting in front of the TV,
drinking beer and watching sports?  They sword-fight for fun, for God’s sake.  Here they know exactly who they are and where they stand.  They are men of property and wealth, as well as high social standing.  Who would they be in the twenty-first century?  And what about everyone else?  What would we tell Charles and Kit’s sister, and all the people who depend on us for their livelihood, like the household staff and the indentured field workers?  And what about the children?”