A World Apart (The Hands of Time: Book 3) (7 page)

“Kit, look – it’s Alec,” exclaimed Louisa as she looked out of the window.  The rider was still far away, but she was sure it was him.  “They must have found Finn in Jamestown.
  I wonder where Valerie and Finn are.”  She was already on her way down when Kit called after her.

“Louisa, it’s not Alec.  It’s Charles.”  Louisa slowed her pace, disappointment filling her heart.  Of course.  Charles looked a lot like Alec from a distance.  What did he want anyway?  Louisa
would have trusted Alec with her life, but her trust did not extend to the brother.  Charles was always charming and polite, but there was something in his jade-green eyes that was sly and self-serving.  There was a cool formality between the brothers that had been caused by Cora’s death two years before, when Charles accused Alec of murder.  He’d apologized once it came out that Amelia had bashed Cora’s head in, but the relationship remained fractured, Alec unable to forget his brother’s betrayal.  One thing that Louisa could say in Charles’ defense was that he wasn’t giving up on mending his bond with Alec.  He came as often as he could, offering help around the estate and trying to be as agreeable as possible in the hopes that Alec would eventually forgive him. 

Charles jumped off his horse and tied the reins to a post before jogging up the steps
and coming into the house.  Up close, he looked tired and pale, his hair coming out of its tie, his mouth a grim line.  Charles yanked the tie out, letting his dark, wavy hair cascade onto his shoulders.

“Good morning, Charles.  Would you care for some re
freshment?” Louisa asked as she invited him to come into the parlor.  She’d never seen him look so agitated.

“Some ale wouldn’t come amiss,” Charles replied, settling on a wooden
settee.  “Is Alec here?  I’d like a word.”

“Alec and Valerie aren
’t here at the present,” answered Kit as he joined them in the parlor.  “Can I help?”

Charles accepted a cup of ale from Minnie and drained it in one gulp, holding out the cup for a refill.  “Perhaps I should wait for Alec to come back.  I must speak with him.  Where has he gone?”

“Alec and Valerie went to North Carolina,” Louisa and Kit answered in unison.

“What on earth for?”  Charles drained another cup and handed it back to Minnie
without looking at her, his eyes on Kit. 

“They thought they might trade some tobacco for foodstuffs,” explained Kit.  “What was it you wanted, Charles?”

Charles looked at his hands for a moment, as if buying some time before speaking.  He tied his hair back and finally looked up at Kit.  “I wanted to ask Alec if Annabel and I can move to Rosewood.  Winter is around the corner and the situation in town is not a good one.  With so much of the crop destroyed during the Indian attack, there are shortages of food.  I can’t see how we can make it through the winter without reinforcements.  The King is said to have sent supply ships, but there is no sign of them, and if the supplies don’t come, we are likely to starve.  There’s plenty of game in the woods, and fish in the stream.  We’ll not go hungry here.”

“I can’t imagine that Alec would refuse,” said Kit thoughtfully.  “Would you be bringing Annabel’s father and brother with you?”

“The old man wants to stay in town.  He thinks the supplies will arrive any day now, and we’ll all be saved.  Thomas would most likely stay with his father, which is for the best, considering.” 

“Considering what?” asked Louisa, noticing something in Charles’ face.

“Considering that little Louisa seems to have developed an attachment to him.  I told Annabel not to leave them alone at any time.  Thomas is eighteen and not to be trusted alone with a young woman.”  Charles looked absurdly uptight, his mouth pressed into a tight line.

“Does Thomas share her feelings?” Louisa had only seen him once or twice, but she could understand her
niece’s infatuation.  He was a good-looking boy, charming and well-mannered.

“I think he might, which is why it’s for the better if he remains in town with his father,” Charles replied.
 

“When will you come?  We need to make room.” 
Louisa was already mentally rearranging the inhabitants of the house.

“I thought we might come by the end of the month.  Would that suit?  Alec and Valerie will likely be back by then.  Little Louisa offered us her room.  She said she
could share with Minnie.  You know how close those two are,” said Charles, rising to his feet.  “I think that would be ideal.”

“Yes, that would help with the sleeping arrangements,” mused Louisa.  “I’m sure
Minnie wouldn’t mind sharing with Louisa for a few months.  Mrs. Dolly and Bridget are sharing a room, and we have a guest at the moment who might be staying with us for a while.  He’s in Amelia’s old room.”

Charles merely shrugged his shoulders at the mention of a guest.  He was obviously preoccupied with the situation at home.  With every day that passed without supply ships arriving from England, the fear of famine loomed ever larger.

“Annabel will be so relieved. She’s terrified for Harry.  He’s still so little.  She thinks there might be looting once the supplies start to run low.  People will have to trade with the Indians again, despite their feelings.  There’s no other choice.  Well, I better go home and give Annabel the good news.  Charles kissed Louisa’s hand and said goodbye to Kit before leaving them. 

“What if
Alec and Valerie aren’t back by the end of the month?” Louisa asked, turning to Kit.  It was only the first week of October, but Louisa was scared.  Every day that they stayed away meant they hadn’t found Finn and that their chances grew slimmer.  Would they come back without him or stay and continue searching?

“Only time will tell,
darling.  In the meantime, we have to store provisions for the coming winter.  It’s all hands on deck, I’m afraid.  Those ships are not coming, and we need to prepare for the worst.” 

Finn leaned on
the spade and wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt.  It was unusually warm for October, and he was sweating profusely.  He was accustomed to walking for hours and tracking game, but he wasn’t used to this kind of work.  Him and Jonah spent several days clearing the field, which was tedious, backbreaking work.  Thankfully, they finally finished that morning, and had been sent by Mr. Mallory to fill in the old privy and dig a new one.  The smell of the privy still lingered in his nose as he sucked in fresh air. 

Finn was grateful not to be wearing his leather doublet.  Mrs. Mallory had given him two shirts and a pair of brown breeches, as well as a coat and a tricorn that had belonged to Sam.  Jonah kept his silence
out of respect for his parents, but Finn could feel his resentment. A stranger was sleeping in his brother’s bed and wearing his clothes.  Finn didn’t blame him.  He would have felt the same.  Thankfully, Jonah’s silence didn’t last long, since he was naturally a chatty lad.  Finn encouraged him to talk by asking numerous questions about the conflict between England and the Colonies, and making all the appropriate noises, praising Jonah’s knowledge and patriotism.  Questioning Jonah was the best way to find things out and get his bearings in this inexplicable situation. 

“I can’t wait until I turn seventeen,” Jonah announced.  “I hope the war won’t be over by then.  I’ll join the Continental Army on my birthday, despite what Pa says.  He didn’t want to admit it, but he was proud when Sam joined up.  Sam is serving with the 8
th
Virginia Regiment under General Peter Muhlenberg.  Even Martha said he looked dashing in his uniform.  I wonder if he’s ever seen His Excellency, General Washington.  What I wouldn’t give to catch a glimpse of him.”  Jonah stopped digging, sidetracked by his fantasy. 

“We will win this war.  You’ll see Finlay.  We’ll send those Lobsterbacks crawling back to their
King with their tails between their legs.”  Jonah began to dig with renewed vigor as if he could dig his way to victory.

Finn found it difficult to believe that a bunch of colonials could defeat the
King’s army, but he kept that opinion to himself.  He didn’t feel the need to take sides.  His mind often wandered off while Jonah was prattling on, agonizing over his dilemma.  Was there any way he could get back home?  It was obvious to him that it was the strange object that sent him into the future.  If only he’d managed to hang on to it.  He would have been at home with his family by now, but without it, his chances of getting back were nonexistent.  Finn sighed and began digging again.  This couldn’t be it.  It simply couldn’t.  He couldn’t be trapped here forever, surrounded by strangers, never seeing his parents again. 

Firelight flickered on the whitewashed walls of the farmhouse, making it appear
snug and cozy.  It had been warm during the day, but the temperature began to drop as soon as the sun went down.  The evening was cold and crisp, the smell of hay and pine in the air.  The women had just finished clearing up after supper, eager to spend some time relaxing by the fire before turning in for the night. 

Finn sat in the corner, wishing
he was invisible as he observed the Mallory family.  Mrs. Mallory and Martha were talking quietly as they sewed something called a “trousseau” for Martha’s upcoming wedding.  That’s all she talked about, blushing every time the name of her intended came up.  Finn was curious to see this fine specimen of manhood since Martha made him sound practically god-like.  Six-year-old Sarah was showing her cloth dolly to baby Annie, and Abigail sat at the table, reading a well-worn book.  She glanced up from time to time, looking away embarrassed when she noticed Finn watching her from his perch in the corner.

Mr. Mallory
sat on a low stool by the hearth, using a special spoon to hold pieces of lead over the fire, and then pouring the molten metal into a bullet mold.  He already had a sizeable pile of bullets next to him, cooling, before he put them into a leather pouch.  Mr. Mallory sang under his breath, content to be in the bosom of his family. 

Yankee Doodle went to town

A-riding on a pony,

Stuck a feather in his cap

And called it macaroni.

Yankee Doodle keep it up,

Yankee Doodle dandy,

Mind the music and the step,

And with the girls be handy.

Finn liked the melody of the song, but he couldn’t understand the words.  They didn’t make any sense to him, but the rest of the family seemed to know exactly what Mr. Mallory
was singing about, especially the younger children who gleefully joined in the chorus. 

Finn suddenly felt tears sting his eyes, and ran from the house, clutching his stomach.  Let them think he went to the privy.  He was too
embarrassed to allow anyone to see his misery.  Finn climbed onto a stile, facing away from the house, and gazed up at the stars.  The night sky was clear, with thousands of distant stars twinkling in the velvety heavens.  He tried to focus his attention on finding familiar constellations to distract himself from his morbid thoughts, but it wasn’t working. 

Were his parents looking up at the same stars right now, or were even the stars different?  Hot tears ran down his cheeks, drying quickly in the cool evening breeze. 
What did his parents think happened to him?  Did they believe he was dead?  The thought of his parents mourning him nearly broke his heart.  They wouldn’t even have a body to bury or a grave to visit.  Was there no way to get home and let them know that he was alive?  Finn wrapped his arms around himself as his chest constricted with terrible longing. 

He didn’t hear Abigail come up behind him until she leaned against the stile
, silently taking his hand.  She handed him a handkerchief without looking at him; her face turned up to the moonlit sky.  They remained that way for a while, lost in silent camaraderie.  Finn suddenly realized that this was the first time he was holding a girl’s hand.  Abigail was almost sixteen, with wide brown eyes and blond curls that escaped from her cap, framing her heart-shaped face. They hadn’t really spoken, but Finn caught her watching him a few times, a look of intense sympathy in her dark eyes. 

“They are dead, aren’t they?” she asked quietly.  “Sometimes it helps to speak of it.”

Finn supposed that even if they weren’t dead, by 1775 they certainly would be, so he wasn’t lying when he nodded.  By now, all traces of his family would be long gone. 

“I know how it feels to lose someone.  I had a twin.  His name was Luke, and he died of a fever when he was ten.  He was
my best friend.  When I was little, I thought I could marry him when I grew up, before I knew that brothers and sisters couldn’t marry.  I thought that nothing could be more perfect than being married to your best friend, one you’ve known since before you were even born.  I still think of him every day.  He pops into my head at the oddest moments, like when I’m really happy or really sad.  I suppose those are the moments that I wish I could share with him.  Knowing that I will never see him again still breaks my heart.  Ma and Pa don’t speak of him often, but I know he is always there, in their thoughts.”  Abigail leaned closer to Finn, finally looking at his face.

“I’m sorry about your brother.  I had a sister – Louisa. 
She was always following me about when she was small; wanting to me to play with her.  I had no patience.  I wanted to do grown-up things, manly things.  Now, I wish I would have been kinder to her.  I miss my parents.  I should have been kinder to them as well, especially my father.”  Finn wiped away another tear, thankful that Abigail couldn’t see it in the darkness.

“Why weren’t you kind to your father?” she asked, looking up at him.

“My real father died before I was born.  He was a hero.  He died fighting for what he believed in.  His brother married my mother and raised me as his own.  I always thought that my real father would have been better somehow, braver and stronger.”  Finn felt a terrible guilt even uttering the words. 

“Wasn’t he a good father to you?  Was he cruel?”
  Abbie was watching him, her face illuminated by the light of the moon.  Her eyes looked bottomless in her face, giving her a solemn expression.

“No, he was a wonderful father.  I was just too stupid to realize it.  I wish I had the chance to tell him that, just once.  I wouldn’t feel so terrible if he knew that I loved him.”  Finn felt his heart squeeze with regret.  What a fool he’d been. 

“I think he knew you loved him.  Parents have the ability to see past the silly things we say and do, and see what’s in our hearts.  Well, I’d better go in.  I’m cold.” 

Finn drew Abigail to him without thinking, sharing his warmth with her, grateful for the warmth she’d shared with him.  “Thank you, Abigail.  You made me feel better.”

“You can call me Abbie, if you like.  Abigail is so formal.  I’ll see you inside, Finn.  Maybe we can take a walk after church on Sunday,” she suggested shyly just before she ran back to the house, her skirts fluttering in the wind.

“I would like that very much,” whispered Finn to her retreating back, feeling marginally better.