Time Will Tell (Timeless Series) (28 page)

No one seemed happy with the news, but they accepted it without a word, as if they sensed talking about it would be unpleasant. Questions could wait until after Libby was gone.

While eating, Libby looked around the table and studied each face. Gus, Berta, Nathan. Then her gaze shifted to Colin, who nodded. These people had come to mean so much to her in such a short time. Colin wasn’t the only one she would miss. Libby loved each and every person in the room. They’d become family. She swallowed the lump of sadness at the realization that she would miss them all much more than she thought possible. Unwilling to add to the somber mood with her thoughts, she kept them to herself.

Thankfully, Colin sensed her thoughts and kept his mood light for the rest of their meal. When done, she and Colin took one more ride out to their spot. He laid out the blanket. For long moments they did nothing but hold each other. This time Libby knew their lovemaking would be their last so she drew it out, much as he’d done the night before. She memorized the feel of his face in her hands,
the shape of his muscular shoulders and chest, and she worked her way lower. When he entered her, Libby blinked back the moisture filling her eyes. This would be a joyous union. Tears would come later. As release took her, she wrapped her arms around him and whispered in his ear, “You’ll always be my hero, Colin. I’ll love you forever.”

With their passion spent, Colin brushed back a lock of her hair and said, “We’ll meet again in the hereafter
, Elizabeth Thorpe.”

As he helped her mount, she took one last look at the same place they’d first picnicked in the grass. She’d remember this spot forever.

Finally, her inevitable journey’s end drew closer. Libby changed into her own clothes and walked up to Colin’s front porch, where everyone she’d come to love had gathered. Gus, Berta, ten-year-old Nathan, and Giselle stood there, each wearing sad expressions. Even Colin’s three children had made an appearance. His oldest looked like a miniature Colin, and Libby swallowed regret that she’d never had the chance to get to know him. The two girls were adorable, especially the baby. All three would hold a special place in her prayers because they were motherless. Her biggest wish for Sam, as she took his hand, was that Colin would find a woman worthy of these kids.

Once the
children were ushered upstairs with their nannies, Libby had no more excuses to prolong her task.

“Good
-bye,” she whispered to Berta. “Thanks for taking me in.”

She turned to Gus and hugged him. He
shed a single tear and shook his head, clearing his throat. “I’ll miss you. You’re the best damn horseman I’ve ever known.”

Unable to answer, she just nodded and moved to hug Giselle.

Colin’s gentle good-bye kiss, one which spoke of a thousand wants and wishes never to be fulfilled, was almost her undoing. After releasing her lips, his eyes were misty.

“Good
-bye, Elizabeth Thorpe. I’ll love you forever,” he whispered, gently pushing her toward the trees.

Colin thought his presence might hamper her chance for success, so with an aching heart, she quickened her pace, too afraid if she didn’t hurry, her wish to go home would be halfhearted.

At the trees she closed her eyes, wishing and praying really hard to go home, unwilling to disappoint him.

In less than a minute, the ground gave way and the earth shook. Everything seemed to break apart. She felt herself falling and knew she was hurling forward in time. Her mind went blank as the world around her flew by in a hazy blur.

~

Colin
stared at the empty doorway Libby had walked through for an endless moment before following. He made his way to the twin oaks and stopped at the same spot he’d hidden that night—when she’d disappeared and then reappeared in a matter of seconds. Stepping farther in the shade to wait, he wanted to know the exact moment she’d be carried away in time.

His wait wasn’t a long one.

Not more than five minutes elapsed when, standing in the shadows, he watched Libby cease to exist in 1874. He remained rooted, staring into the space where his life had vanished.

Eventually he slowly walked up the hill
, feeling as if his heart had been torn asunder.

Upon entering, Colin didn’t care that the house was shrouded in darkness.
Abovestairs, Sam laughed at something Minnie said as she readied him and his sisters for bed. The sound didn’t provide the usual joy it should have. He’d heard that children’s needs had a way of helping one overcome grief. He prayed it was so. He thanked God for the purpose to carry on. At this moment, he needed his children more than they needed him.

Heading for his study, he wondered how he would bear the dimness without Libby’s sunshine lighting and warming his world. As far as he was concerned
, his days would be darkened forevermore.

Libby opened her eyes. Pride stood in the spot
where she’d left him, calmly eating grass. She jumped up to retrieve her cell phone and noted the time and day. It seemed like a lifetime away, rather than mere minutes.

Her wedding ring glinted in the sun,
drawing her eye. She held out her hand, lovingly tracing the edges of the ring with her forefinger as a stabbing pain pierced her soul. How would she ever survive without Colin—without all the people she’d come to love in the nineteenth century?

Tears blurred her vision as she mounted Pride and urged the stallion to the one spot she’d be near her love in this century. At the gate of the peaceful cemetery, she quickly dismounted and scrutinized the stones
, beneath which lay generations of Thorpe remains. She found the one she sought and collapsed in a new round of tears after reading the epitaph.

Here lies Colin Thorpe

Husband to Elizabeth

Whom he loved

All the days of his life

Clutching the grass covering Colin’s grave, she sobbed, feeling the loss all over again.

Emotionally spent, she rose to pick up Pride’s reins. In a fluid move, she mounted the stallion, but her shoulders drooped on the slow ride back to the two oaks. Moving in a grief-filled haze, she tied Pride in the same spot. She needed more time to collect herself before taking over her duties here in the future. The kids she was supposed to teach to ride this afternoon would have to wait.

She didn’t know how long she sat under the trees, staring out at the landscape and seeing nothing with tear-glazed eyes. A squirrel running up one of the massive trunks drew her focus. She watched him for a moment
, then looked around. Everything appeared so different. Somehow, this didn’t feel like home anymore. A sad smile formed. This
was
home, but her home was no longer where her heart was. She felt displaced. Like she didn’t belong in her own time and era. A semblance of a laugh rolled up. What a stupid thought. Of course she belonged here.

She then remembered Giselle’s words when Libby had asked her about leaving Paris and moving to Shelbyville, Kentucky, a town completely opposite of the larger foreign city.

Soon the new place becomes home.
“I’d be sad to leave here,” she’d said. “But if I did, I’d know that wherever I went, I would eventually feel at home.”

When had 1874 become home to her and why hadn’t she realized the fact before she left the past? It dawned on her just then that she’d most likely always had the choice to leave. Nothing had changed. She couldn’t get to the future during those earlier attempts because she’d never wanted to leave the past badly enough. She’d prolonged her visit intentionally.

Bev’s words during their picnic under these same trees came back to her.

Of course you’ll be able to come home. Just wish it like before.

Yes, Libby had never lost the ability to get home. Just like Bev had said.

Too bad she couldn’t go home now.

Suddenly, her posture straightened. Wiping her eyes, she wondered. Could she? If 1874 was now home to her, would wishing herself back work? Excitement surged through her at the thought. Yet, if she could, was that something she should even attempt when nothing had changed?

Or
…had it?

Her love for Colin eclipsed all else, but was returning to him—to all that 1874 had to offer,
or not
in this case—something she could live with? Wouldn’t do to return just to change her mind and then have to endure another departure, something she felt neither of them could survive.

This is it, she thought.
Decision time. No more wasting energy on things that wouldn’t make her happy. She had to truly think about her choice to be with Colin. Or not.

Her friendship with Bev was her main reason for returning
to the twenty-first century. Fashion was near the top, along with technology, including air-conditioning, computers, communications, and transportation. She thought of her cell phone left in Pride’s satchel. Did texting really matter? Did technology and progress? Did
things
make her happy?

She shook her head. No. Colin’s love did.

But what about all the negatives in 1874? Could she get past them?

The lack of amenities was a pain. The attitude of the people bugged her. Still, she discarded their stuffy, moral righteousness as happenstance. People in general hadn’t changed. They just hid behind hypocritical actions, which Libby realized was only a minor irritation. After all, the twenty-first century held hypocrites. Those individuals she cared about in 1874 were warm, loving
, and accepting, neither narrow-minded nor self-righteous.

The one negative Libby had trouble with was the way women were treated in 1874. Could she tolerate such backward thinking? Would Colin’s love be enough to overcome that?

Dave was no longer a consideration, but the thought of leaving her father saddened her. What made her sadder was their relationship, which wasn’t a close one. After her mother died, he changed. Libby always felt as if she’d disappointed him somehow because she loved the farm so much. She even wondered if he’d miss her if she weren’t around. Not the best father-daughter relationship. Still, it was hers and it would be hard to give it up, even if the Gundersons’ approval and love had somehow compensated for her father’s emotional distance in the past.

She sighed. It all came back to Colin and the chance to build a life with him on the stud farm. She shared Colin’s dream of
breeding and training some of the best horses in the country, and she loved the work.

In the end, her decision rested on her love for Colin versus her love for her best friend.

Without Bev, her life wouldn’t have been as full. Friendships like theirs would last forever despite not being together.

Bev’s toast suddenly
came back to her. To friendship! May it last through time!

What would Bev say? A half
laugh, half sob burst free with the simple answer. She’d want what Libby wanted. Her best friend loved her enough to let her go, just as Colin had. In fact, Bev, a romantic and a firm believer in fate, wouldn’t be happy to learn that Libby had even considered picking friendship over love.

Pride whinnied when Libby jumped up to grab her cell phone out of his saddlebag to text her
friend good-bye and explain why she couldn’t wait. Bev would understand.

Libby was too afraid that if she didn’t go now, she might never get the chance again.

Somehow fate, in the form of a quest to save the farm in the future, had taken her back to 1874 where Libby had found what she’d never dreamed she’d been looking for. Who she was and why she existed.

Bev would be
very
disappointed if Libby didn’t follow her destiny and live it to the fullest as fate had dictated. Grinning, she glanced up at the oaks as her decision became final.

C
losing her eyes, she relaxed and wished.
Please, please take me home.

Twin Oaks Farm—in the future

Bev neared the two oak trees and saw Thorpe’s Pride right where Libby’s text had said the mare would be. She swallowed her sadness, stared up at the green canopy, and whispered, “Godspeed, my friend. I wish you all the happiness you deserve.”

She then untied Pride and said to the horse while leading him back to the paddock, “Even though it’s here in black and white on my cell phone, it’s still hard to believe.”

With Pride taken care of, she went in search of Sam and Doug. It would be hard enough to sell them on the idea of Libby living in the past, but no way Dave or Mr. Edwards would buy it without proof. Hopefully, Libby did what she said she would do and left them messages.

If only her friend could have said good
-bye in person. Bev understood her reasons. Hell, she’d urged her on, but a hug would have been nice. Arms-deep in the birth of the newest foal on the farm, Bev hadn’t been able to break away and Libby hadn’t wanted to risk waiting.

Pulled out of her thoughts as both men headed her way, Bev wondered how to best go about her task. How did one impart such news? Just blurt it out or ease it into conversation?

Deciding on a direct approach, she said once the men were within earshot, “Libby went back to 1874 to find your deed.”

Two
faces stared at her with incredulous expressions.

“By God, that’s not funny,” Sam said, frowning.

“I didn’t tell you that to be funny,” Bev replied in a patient tone. “It’s true.” She then went on to explain what she thought happened, ending with, “My best guess is she wished herself back to gain a copy of the deed and decided to stay.” She smiled wistfully. “I’m the only one who knew. Well, she did tell Dave, but he didn’t believe her.”

For several long seconds Sam gaped at her. “She met my great
-great-grandfather?”

Doug looked as if he didn’t know what to think and kept quiet.

She nodded. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

Sam shook his head. “Dammit all
, Bev, no one can come and go through time.”

“She can. She did.”

As if absorbing it all, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I remember Libby’s unease about the trees. But how is it possible that the twin oaks called to her? There has to be some other explanation.” He sighed. “You’re asking me to believe the impossible.”

“Well, there is one way to find out,” she said, handing him her cell phone. “This is the message I received before she left.” As he read, she added, “We only have to check beneath the trees to find the copy of the deed she buried there.”

“As incredible as it seems, it won’t hurt to take a look.” He broke off for a moment. “We should notify her father and that young man she was going to marry. They have the right to know what’s going on, and I want them present when we search. Will you call them?”

Bev nodded, wondering how to prepare for the distasteful task of calling Dave Phillips.

~

Responding to the knock, Bev opened Libby’s cabin door and Dave walked past her into the room. Mr. Edwards hadn’t arrived yet.

“Where’s Libby,” he asked. “What’s happened
?
Why’d you call?”

“Hello, Dave. It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Don’t be a smartass, Bev. It’s unbecoming.” His dismissive gaze caught hers. “Did you say something to her to cause more problems between us?”

Bev stared open
-jawed. Was he for real? “This wasn’t my doing.” Well, technically it was because it was her idea to go back for the deed. Still, Colin Thorpe sounded like a dream man for Libby, much more so than the man in front of her.

“She’s finally agreed to dinner so we can talk, and an hour before I’m to pick her up, you call and tell me she’s gone. I know you put her up to it.”

“You are
so
predictable,” she shot back. Just like Dave to blame her for a mess of his own making. If he hadn’t acted like such an ass and tried to turn Libby into a Barbie doll, her friend might never have fallen in love with a nineteenth-century heartthrob.

“I’d rather be predictable than look like you,” he said, eyeing her up and down.

“Oh, really?” Grinning, she sauntered toward him. She picked up his tie, fingering the fine silk as he leaned away, warily watching her. “I bet you have twenty just like this. And let me guess. More dark navy suits and only white shirts hang in your closet?” She dropped the tie and patted his chest, tsk-tsking. “You’re about as colorless as they come.”

Shaking his head, Dave walked to the window and stood looking out.

Except Bev needed to vent, not just because she missed Libby, but because he’d always treated Bev as if she were beneath him, an attitude that had bothered her from the get-go. What did the guy have against her? “You know what your problem is, Dave?”

“No, but I can see you’re dying to enlighten me.”

“Of course.” A satisfied smirk snuck out as she nodded and sat. “Your problem is you can’t see beneath the surface of an individual. It’s too bad, because you miss so much.”

“Spare me,” he muttered under his breath. The disbelieving look sliding over his expression as he slanted a glance in her direction added to his tone. “That’s utter bullshit.”

“Oh?” Stretching out her legs and leaning back in the chair, she held his gaze. “I’ll prove it. What do you see when you look at me? Not that I don’t already have a good idea. But tell me. Do you look beneath my surface?”

“
OK, I’ll play your game.” His gaze took a trip over her body. “I see a pain in the butt with a loud mouth, spiked hair, and too many earrings.”

“I thought so,” she countered with a forced laugh. “For your
information, Dr.
Predictable
Bull, I’m graduating from U of L
summa cum laude
in pre-med. I put myself through school, though my parents can buy and sell you. I’ve already been accepted to three med schools, which I probably won’t attend because I’ve got my heart set on vet school. I’m sure you never knew those details. Why? Because you can’t look beyond the cover, especially if you don’t like what you see. You assume the worst.”

Dave’s jaw clenched as a bit of red hit his cheeks. “Oh, yeah?” he said in a growl. “While you’re listing my faults, let me tell you this, Ms. Colorful. If all that’s true, then you’re just as bad. Hiding who and what you are behind the hair and rings. Joke about me all you want. At least I don’t hide from life. I know who I am, and I’ll not make any excuses to you because you find me predictable.” With a dismissive turn of his shoulders, he refocused on the window.

A knock sounded.

“Saved by the bell,” Bev muttered
as she headed for the door, relieved to have the diversion. She didn’t want to think about the thread of validity running through his words.

Tom Edwards entered, concern written in bold print across his face. “Have they found any sign of her yet?”

“No, Mr. Edwards,” Bev said, shaking her head. “Now that you’re here, why don’t you sit down?” She looked over at Dave and nodded to the table. “You too, Dave.”

Dave raked an impatient hand through his hair. “I only want to find Libby, talk some sense into her,” he murmured, turning back to the window. “Then get the hell out of here.”

“Please sit.” Bev motioned toward the chair.

Sighing, Dave moved to sit in the chair she indicated and waited. When she hesitated, his eyebrows rose. “Well, you’ve got our attention, so tell us what you couldn’t over the phone. Where’s Libby?”

“You won’t like what I have to say.” Bev curled a fist, holding back the urge to hit him. “And knowing you, you won’t be open enough to believe, but here goes.” She flashed him a mocking smile. “She went back in time and decided to stay.”

“Come on, Bev.” Dave laughed. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

“What makes you think this, Bev?” Tom Edwards said, interrupting the snide reply on the tip of her tongue.

“Well…” Bev cleared her throat. “She’s gone back before,” she said, glancing at him. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it happened—the first time when she was fourteen.”

Tom noticeably paled. “Go on,” he said, swallowing hard.

“A few weeks ago, after Libby started working on the farm, she went back to 1874 to
—” She shrugged. “The why doesn’t really matter. Anyway, she returned and told me about it. Then Sam was having legal problems with clearing his title. Somehow the deed to his property went missing and there’s no record of it. Libby went back to retrieve a copy of the original. She thought something that happened on her first visit created the change.” When Dave scoffed, she threw him a heated glance and said, “You can leave if you don’t want to hear the rest.”

Dave opened his mouth to speak, but Tom raised a hand. “I’m interested in what she has to say.” Then turning back to Bev, he still looked awfully pasty when he nodded. “Please continue.”

Bev sighed. “As crazy as it sounds, she left earlier this afternoon and traveled back to 1874. She returned briefly. We texted back and forth and said our good-byes.” She cleared her throat and pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. “She was in a hurry to get back. She promised to leave messages for everyone under the twin oaks.” She left out the part about her finding her dream man. Hopefully, Libby took care of that. “The oaks had some kind of magic. She wished to go back in time and they took her.”

Dave stared at Bev until he shook his head and snorted. “I know Libby thinks she can travel through time. Hell
, she even tried to convince me, but come on, Bev. You can’t really buy into her games? Flitting around time like you’re zipping to the store and back is impossible.”

“I don’t care what you think. It’s true.”

Tom Edwards gripped Dave’s shoulder, his expression solemn. “I believe her, Dave.”

He gaped. “You can’t be serious, Tom. They’re daydreams or her imagination working in overtime. There’s always some explanation.”

“Come with me.” Tom started for Libby’s bedroom. “I need to show you something.”

Both followed
him into the room.

At Libby’s dresser, Tom rifled through her jewelry box, grabbed an earring, and glanced at Dave, holding it up. “See this?” When Dave nodded, he continued speaking. “This earring belonged to Liz, my wife. It went missing the night we decided to have Libby. That same night Liz told me an incredible story.” Fingering the earring, Tom paused. He glanced up with a gaze full of pain. “She was upset, thought she was imagining things because this kid claiming to be her daughter appeared out of nowhere, telling Liz she loved her and that she was sorry for the things she’d said. Apparently, this daughter from the future took the earring with her and then disappeared right before her eyes.” He set the earring back in the box and sighed. “We had no idea what happened and quite honestly
, I’d forgotten about the incident until after Liz’s death.”

“That’s when she wished under the trees to see her mother,” Bev said. “The trees allowed her to go back.”

Tom nodded. “When Liz died, Libby was inconsolable. She wasn’t eating and lost interest in outside things—was basically in a deep depression. Her doctor suggested this place,” he said, indicating the farm outside the bedroom window. “I’ve always been leery of Twin Oaks because of the night she came home from her two-week stay. That same night I went to check on her and saw Liz’s earring in her hand. Now, how or why it happened, I don’t know. But I do know she met my wife before her birth and left with the earring. The whole idea bothered me. I felt that somehow, at some point in the future, I’d lose her just like I did Liz, so I tried to keep her from this place.”

Bev stared. “Wow. I had no idea.”

“The two have always seemed connected. And now she’s vanished, which only confirms my earlier fears.” Tom glanced at Dave. “I think we should go and see what’s under the trees.”

Dave murmured something under his breath.

“What?” Bev donned her most innocent expression. Despite feeling so wretched with never seeing her best friend again, she felt immense satisfaction at seeing Dr. Bull brought down a peg or two. “I didn’t catch that.”

Ignoring her, Dave kept walking. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” When he got to the front door
, he stopped. “Are you coming?” he yelled to Tom. “Let’s get this over with. The sooner we dig up nothing, the sooner we can look for Libby.”

Bev sidled up behind him, taunting,
“A predictable disbeliever till the very end. Why am I not surprised?”

Dave grunted
. “You know, Bev, someday that big mouth of yours will get you into trouble.”

“Says who?
You?” Fighting with the guy somehow took her mind off missing Libby.

“Children, please,” Tom said. “Let’s go. You two can fight when I’m gone.”

A chagrined expression flitted over Dave’s face. He offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

Embarrassed, Bev remained silent as Tom asked, heading out the door, “Where’re these trees?”

“Not too far,” she said to his departing back.

Along the trail, they joined Sam and Doug, both carrying shovels. The small procession headed to the trees.