Chapter Fourteen

B rad ran his hand through his hair in frustration as he sat at his desk desperately trying to go through his books. The past ten days had been torture. Actually, when Brad thought about it, the past two weeks had been hell. Ever since finding Libby and her husband and learning Libby was from 2024, things had gone to pieces.

Right after Brad had promised Libby he would come back and talk to her, Caleb and Colleen came back from their swim. It seemed there had been a disagreement about letting the girls swim in the creek along with the boys. Colleen said yes. Caleb, no. They ended up not speaking to each other and Caleb went back to his home alone. Colleen was still here with their children. They were the two most stubborn people on Earth.

The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized everyone he knew was stubborn. Every day Cora came to him complaining about how Libby didn't want to stay in bed. Cora was stubborn enough to keep her there; Libby stubborn enough to try to get up. So far Cora was winning, but Brad knew it was only because Cora was stronger—physically, anyway. As far as he was concerned, Libby knew more about it than Cora and could get up any time she wanted to.

Then there was Belinda Castlewood. In the past ten days she had been out to see him no less than five times. Each time she brought something for the poor woman stuck at an old bachelor's place. Luckily for him three times he had been out on his land. After a short visit, Cora and Colleen were able to convince Belinda to leave, telling her Brad wouldn't be back until dark. One of the times she came out of concern, he had come riding to the barns just as Belinda was leaving. He tried to swerve into the barn, but her eagle eyes caught him. He ended up having tea with her, trying to remain interested in her stories of visits to other neighbors. The only time his interest was piqued was when she brought up what their neighbors were saying about the mysterious woman staying at his residence. He wasn't sure if what they were saying were true or if Belinda was trying to get information out of him. That she was extremely curious about Libby was obvious to even the most dense.

The second time he got caught she came bearing gifts for the new mother and baby. Luckily for Libby, but not for himself, he had been coming out of his office as Belinda was about to go up the stairs. Her sneaking into his house was obvious, not only from the guilty look on her face and her stuttered attempts at explaining, but no one else had been in the house at the time. Cora and Colleen had taken the children for a swim and picnic.

Brad's strong hunch Belinda had been watching and waiting for everyone to leave became truth when she tried to seduce him, saying they were all alone and heading for the stairs again. He knew she was getting desperate when she tried the ploy. Belinda had trouble hiding the look of revulsion on her face when she touched his arm. Brad never knew whether to laugh at her or get angry when she tried her tricks. He wanted to laugh at her obvious duplicity and yell how he knew she was lowering herself to get his money and property.

It was too bad she couldn't see the disgust on his face. Maybe she would finally get the idea he wasn't interested. Nothing he said seemed to. She thought her coyness and sexuality were enough for any man. Brad believed if he'd ever marry her, she would succumb to his demands in bed on their wedding night and then cut him off for life. She would probably play the part of his loving wife in public, but his private life would be a living hell.

Brad was able to get Belinda out the door by saying he would come by to see her sometime. He took hold of her arm and physically escorted her from the house so fast, she was unable to pin him down to a specific day. Good thing since he didn't like to swear in front of women and telling her he'd come to see her when hell froze over would have probably put her in a swoon and he'd surely be stuck with her. After she was finally gone, he scanned the yard to make sure his sigh of relief hadn't blown down any trees.

To top off all the stubbornness surrounding him and the lack of peace he'd had, several of his mares were due to foal at the same time, which meant round-the-clock watches for him, his foreman, and his hired hands. They tried to take turns so everyone would get a chance to sleep, but they were all getting tired. The fourth night, after two mares foaled the night before, his favorite mare went into labor and was having difficulties.

In his haste to wake Brad up, Toby, Cora's son, tripped over a bucket, and fell into Joshua, his foreman and Cora's husband. Both men tumbled to the ground. Toby broke his arm and Joshua his leg. Not only did it leave Brad short-handed, but Cora was in a fit about her son and husband continuing their work in the barn. Every time she complained to him, he told her stubbornness seemed to run in her family. In his mind he wished he could hide out in the barn to get away from her harping, too.

Things out in the barn had finally slowed down and he needed to add the six new foals to his accounts. He was so tired the numbers swam before his eyes. The only thing giving him any peace lately was his growing relationship with Charlie. No matter how worn out he was, Brad made a point of putting him to bed every night. During the day he didn't see much of the boy because he was off with Colleen's children, but at night, when Charlie was all cleaned up and sweet-smelling, Brad would sit on the bed next to him and listen to the boy go on about his day.

Then came Brad's favorite words of the day.

"Tell me a story, Bwad."

Sometimes Brad told stories about his childhood with Caleb and his sister, Sybil. He could get Charlie giggling over the antics they pulled. Other times Brad made up stories like his mother used to. Truth be told, Brad thought the stories came easily to him and figured they were ones his own mother had made up. He couldn't remember the actual stories, but bits and pieces of them. He filled in details to help make a good story for the boy. He hoped.

One night when he was so tired he could hardly speak, Brad asked Charlie to tell him a story. During a tale about mice named Mickey and Minnie, Brad fell asleep, waking up hours later curled up next to Charlie. Before he could leave the bed, he had to pry Charlie's leg from around his throat. It was a good thing he woke up when he did, or Charlie would have choked him to death with his knee.

A few times when Brad went to put Charlie to bed, he found the boy with Libby. He wondered how she felt about the bedtime routine and asked her about it.

"I think it's a fine idea, Brad. It's not something his father did, but I always thought it would have been a good thing. Charlie's been telling me some of the stories you tell him. Did you and Caleb really empty a box of live crickets into your sister's bed while she was sleeping?"

"He sure did, Mommy. They gots a spankin,' too."

"You did?" Libby's grin matched the twinkle in her eyes.

"Yes, Ma'am. We sure did."

"And did you learn a lesson about not pulling pranks on your little sister?"

Brad knew Libby was trying to send a message to Charlie about his own little sister. He dropped his head down and let out a great sigh. "Yes, Ma'am. We surely did."

He was surprised when Libby giggled and answered in a sarcastic tone, "Oh, I'm sure you did."

Then she went on to ask about his day. Charlie was anxious to get to the storytelling so Brad wasn't able to tell her much, but it was enough to make him feel good about his day. He had forgotten how nice it was to share his day with someone. What had also surprised him was she genuinely seemed interested in what he was telling her. Afterward, he was let down whenever Charlie was already in his room and not with Libby.

A ruckus from the hallway outside his office brought Brad from his reflections. A pounding on his door brought him from his chair. "Now what the hell is wrong?" he muttered as he pulled on his mask and wearily opened the door.

Cora stood in front of him, her arms crossed beneath her hefty bosom, indignation written across her face. A pleased-looking Libby stood behind her, holding Lucy in her arms. "Mr. Bradley, I refuse to be responsible for Miss Libby if'n something happens to her."

"And I refuse to stay in bed and bedroom one second longer!" Libby jabbed her finger toward the stairs to make her point. "This is ridiculous. Women do not need to be pampered this long. I NEED TO GET OUTSIDE!" Her scream could have woken the dead.

"Sounds like a good idea to me." Cora grinned. "Not only does she want to go outside, but she wants to see her husband's grave. She can't walk that far."

Brad glanced back at Libby in question. What was Cora playing at?

"I most certainly can too walk that far!"

"Do you even know how far the cemetery is?" He held back a smirk when his question knocked the wind out of her sails.

"Well, no," she answered slowly. "But I'm sure Colleen or someone could take me there if it's too far to walk."

Brad leaned against the door jam and crossed his arms over his chest. He remembered how much he needed to see Lucinda's grave once he had come out of his drunken stupor. "It's really important to you, isn't it?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Please. Charlie needs to see it, too. He thinks his father is buried somewhere in your backyard like his dog was back home."

A look of understanding and sympathy crossed Cora's face. She patted Libby's arm. "I'm so sorry, honey ‘chile. Now I know why the po' boy has been wandering around the back, looking like a lost soul. Of course you need to go see your po' husband's grave." Cora turned back to Brad. "Maybe Mr. Brad can hitch up the buggy and take you."

"I can walk," Libby insisted. "Brad must be too busy to drag me to a cemetery."

And way too tired. But she and Charlie needed this. "It really is too far to walk, Libby. Even if you didn't just have a baby. I'll have one of the boys hitch up the buggy, and I'll take you. We should have thought of it sooner."

Libby lifted her chin at Cora. "You never would have gotten past the warden."

"Humph. Just doin' my job," Cora grumbled as she headed down the hall toward the kitchen. "Try to do my job and all they do is complain. Nobody ‘preciates nothin' ‘round here."

After Cora had left the main house, Brad glanced at Libby. "I'll meet you in front in half an hour." He walked in the opposite direction from Cora.

****

L ibby shifted Lucy to her other arm and contemplated what to do. Without her watch, she wouldn't know when the time was up. Waiting for Brad outside would be the safest thing to do. Shifting Lucy to her other arm, Libby headed for the door Brad had gone through. It was amazing how something as small as her daughter could become so heavy so fast. She must be getting weak. She was used to being active, exercising, and lifting weights. Two weeks in bed sapped all her strength. Since she'd finally won the battle against Cora she would be able to do more things. Inactivity was not a word in her vocabulary.

Libby smiled to herself as she settled onto a swing suspended by ropes from the porch ceiling. She set the porch swing moving with her feet and thought about how much she loved porches like this. Every time Ben and she would pass by a house with a large porch and a swing, Libby would sigh and say, "Someday, Ben, we'll have a porch like that." He would smile at her and say, "Yes, dear."

"Well, Ben. Here I am. On a porch swing like we always dreamed of. But where are you? Why aren't you here with me? Why did you have to die?"

Libby didn't want to start crying again. She'd done enough the past two weeks. Instead, she recalled the recent test of wills between Cora and herself. This morning when she woke, Libby decided enough was enough. She wasn't sore anymore, anyway not physically, and her bleeding was done. She couldn't stand the bed anymore, and if she didn't get out of it, she'd go stark raving mad.

She'd slipped her nightgown back on while deciding what to wear. Even though he hadn't been able to return to talk with Libby, Brad had been true to his word about removing her bags. They were nowhere in sight. She went to the tall wardrobe she had been dying to go through while confined to bed. The past two weeks were spent thinking about everything she wanted to explore before going back to 2024. Assuming she could get back to 2024.

The wardrobe was full of dresses, blouses, and skirts. Libby gave a prayer of thanks when one drawer contained her own underwear. "Wonder what Cora thought about these," she murmured pulling out her bra and panties. Libby searched through the clothes. Everything looked warm and heavy. Finally, in the back, she located a lightweight white blouse, and a long, dark blue, cotton skirt. Like in the historical novels she devoured, she should be wearing a corset of some kind and probably petticoats. But she wouldn't be able to put them on by herself and there were no petticoats to be found. The clothes smelled slightly musty from being hung in the back, but Libby was grateful to be out of her nightgown.

After donning the clothes, Libby realized the owner was someone much shorter than herself. Although the waist was fine, the bottom of the skirt was about two inches too short. There was nothing she could do about it, but if she rolled the sleeves up, no one would be able to tell they were too short. Normally the blouse probably would have fit across the front, but since she was nursing and her breasts were larger, it pulled across them. Then came the problem of what to put on her feet. The shoes, or rather boots, resting on the floor were way too small. As she spied her tennis shoes under the bed, Cora came into the room.

"What do you think you're doin,' Miss Libby? You gets right back into bed."

Libby jumped. "Oh, Cora, you scared me. You shouldn't sneak up on people like that." How could a woman Cora's size, a walk so quietly?

"Good. I hope I done scared you right back into your bed."

"I am not going back to bed, Cora!" Libby stomped her foot like Charlie did when throwing a tantrum. But she was absolutely not throwing a tantrum. Was she? "There's no reason to. I feel fine. My bleeding's done, and I'm bored to death. I need to get out of here. Charlie and Lucy and I are going to see Ben's grave."

"You can't! For one thing you don't have anything black to wear."

"I can, and I will!" She yanked her shoes from under the bed and proceeded to pull them on, her jerky movements full of anger.

"What's them things you put on your feet?"

Oops. How was she going to explain tennis shoes to someone who had never seen plastic or rubber? "They're a type of shoe we have where I come from."

"The place you come from must be mighty strange." Cora shook a finger at her. "Even if you put them things on, you're not going anywhere."

Libby finished tying the laces and stood. "Who's going to stop me?"

Cora put her hands on her massive hips, her stance making Libby think of a drill sergeant. "I am."

Libby walked around the bed and picked up Lucy. "Do you think you can stop me when I'm holding Lucy?" Playing dirty felt good. She held back a cheer of success when Cora backed down. Libby hoped she didn't look too silly as she regally marched passed Cora, her red tennies squeaking across the polished floor, her white ankles showing beneath the blue skirt.

As she passed Cora and went out the door, Libby couldn't miss the nod of approval and smirk from the housekeeper.

****

L ibby stopped the swing when Charlie called out to her as he raced across the front lawn with Colleen's children. Colleen followed at more sedate pace, calling out to the children to be careful.

"Mommy, Mommy," he called out in a breathless voice. "Brad says we're going for a buggy ride. Is it true?"

Libby wiped the perspiration from Charlie's face and brushed the hair from his eyes. "You need a haircut, young man. And yes. You and Lucy and I are going for a buggy ride with Brad."

Charlie leaned across her legs and reached out a dirty hand toward Lucy's fingers. Libby stopped him just in time. "How come you gots a dress on Mommy?"

"It's what women and girls wear here."

"Yeah, but you never wear a dress."

Libby sighed. "I know, Charlie, but sometimes we have to do things we've never done before. It makes these people feel better to have us dress like them. Do you understand?" When Charlie shook his head no, Libby went on. "It doesn't matter, honey. Why don't you go into the house and ask Cora to clean you up before we leave. You can't get into Brad's nice buggy all dirty, can you?"

Colleen came onto the porch as Charlie was trying to open the door. She ordered her oldest to help Charlie and then told the rest of them to go wash up, too.

"It's good to see you up and around, Libby," Colleen smiled as she sat down next to Libby.

Libby smiled back. She'd grown to like Brad's sister-in-law. She was down-to-earth and had a good sense of humor. "It's about time, don't you think?"

"Yes, well, I know what it's like to fight Cora. She was still living with us when I had my first two. Then she came to help Brad and stayed for Lucinda. She's in her glory now with all these children here."

Libby shook her head. "If you don't mind my asking, how much longer do you plan on staying?"

Colleen pulled off her bonnet and sighed. "I was hoping by now Caleb would be crawling back here, begging for me to come home. Maybe he doesn't need me as much as I thought."

"Well, you know how men and their pride can be," Libby said. "It seemed whenever Ben and I had a fight, Ben's fierce pride stopped him from apologizing first. As soon as I took the first step, he would hop right on the wagon with me and be as contrite as can be. I don't know Caleb well, but since he's a man, and they all seem to be alike, he's letting his pride get in the way of common sense. I enjoy visiting with you, but maybe it's time you took the first step and get things patched up."

Colleen grinned sheepishly at Libby. "I know you're right, Libby, but I'm cursed with the same pride and stubbornness."

"Think about what I said. As much as I hate to admit it, my mother-in-law was right when she says women are the peacemakers of the world."

"What are you wearing?" Colleen asked in an abrupt change of topic.

"I found these in a wardrobe in my room. I know the skirt's a little short, but it's all I could find."

"They must be Lucinda's, but I wasn't talking about the clothes, I was talking about what you have on your feet."

Libby swung her legs straight out and gazed fondly at her tennies. "They're my shoes. The ones in the closet were too small for me."

"I've never seen anything like them."

"It's what we wear in the north. They are warmer and more comfortable."

"Aah," Colleen responded as if being from "the north" cleared everything up. "What about the rest of your clothes?"

"None of them are right for here."

"Well, that settles it. I'll stay long enough to get your wardrobe situation fixed. I'll ask Brad if we can remake some of Lucinda's things. They're only hanging in the closet gathering dust."

How would she feel if someone wore Ben's clothes? "But won't he feel bad seeing her things being used?"

Colleen obviously didn't have the same concern. "He may, but it's about time he gets on with his life, anyway. A person can only mourn for so long."

"Do you think anyone will see us at the cemetery?"

"I doubt it. Why?" Colleen kept eyeing Libby's shoes.

"Cora thought I should be wearing black, but I don't have anything in the color."

Colleen huffed a breath. "Oh, those stupid mourning traditions. Men don't have to mourn for a year or sometimes two years. Only six months. They don't have to cover themselves from head to toe in black, even when it's hot and humid. I've heard of widows passing out in their black finery."

Libby agreed, but before she could ask questions burning in her mind, gravel crunched beneath horse's hooves.

"Here comes Brad now. I'll talk to him later. Leave everything up to me. Do you have a bonnet?"

"No." She did have a baseball cap in her bags, but like her maternity pants and tops, wearing it would certainly raise eyebrows.

"Here, use mine. You'll need one to keep the sun from burning your nose. With your fair skin you probably burn fast."

"You're right. Thanks." Libby couldn't help but admire the bonnet. She'd always thought it would be fun if hats had come back into style, and not baseball hats, either. This one was straw with a wide brim around the entire hat. It was held in place with wide ribbons coming down on either side to be tied under the chin.

"I know it's a little out of date, but the new ones don't keep your entire face out of the sun. I only wear it around our place or here. I'm outside so much with the children and taking care of my garden, and I do hate to freckle."

"This is fine," Libby assured her as she put on the bonnet. "Where is Charlie? I don't want to keep Brad waiting." With the bonnet in place, trying to see things from the side was like a horse wearing blinders. She couldn't see left or right without turning her head.

"I'll go hurry him along," Colleen offered with a wave in Brad's direction.

Brad jumped down from the wagon and came up to Libby. "I'm sorry I don't have the buggy, but the axle broke and Joshua hasn't been able to fix it since he broke his leg. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Libby answered slowly. She wasn't concerned for herself, but for Charlie and Lucy. Brad seemed to read her mind.

"Charlie will be fine up there, but it might be a good idea to leave Lucy behind. It might be a bit jolting for her."

Libby mentally calculated how long it had been since she nursed Lucy. In another hour she would probably have to do so again. "I...um...how long will we be gone?"

"About two hours. Why?"

Libby's face heated. She didn't know this man well enough to explain her predicament. "Well, I, uh, can't leave her long."

"Why not? Cora certainly knows how to take care of her."

"Lucy um... I ..." Oh, the heck with it. "I will need to feed her again in an hour, so I can't leave her." Her face burned even more when Brad eyed her breasts.

As if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turned away from Libby and headed back to the wagon. "When the time comes, we'll find a place where you can feed her. Let's get going."

What was up with his abrupt change in attitude? It happened a lot with him. One moment he'd be friendly then suddenly he would become curt and walk away from her. She chalked it up to his missing his wife.

"Let's go, Mommy." Charlie tugged on her skirt. "Bwad's waiting."

Colleen stepped onto the porch and glanced at the wagon. "You're not taking Lucy in that thing, are you?"

Libby sighed. "I have no choice. I made such a stink about going to see Ben's grave and Brad's taking time out of his day, I can't back out now. I'll have to nurse her in about an hour, so I have to take her. What else can I do?"

"Wait a minute." Colleen slipped back into the house and returned a few minutes later carrying a pillow-lined basket with an umbrella attached to the front. Cora came out behind her with a large pillow and another basket. They took them to the wagon. Libby followed.

Brad frowned. "What's all this for?"

"Mr. Bradley, you can't expect Miss Libby to hold Lucy all the way to the cemetery. So's we'll put Miss Lucy in this here basket and set it behind the seat. The umbrella will keep the sun off her." Cora tossed the large pillow to Brad. "This pillow is for Miss Libby to sit on while she nurses the babe." She hung the basket over Brad's outstretched arm. "The basket has some goodies in it for lunch."

Libby flinched at Brad's clenched fists and red face.

"Lunch? But we're only going to the cemetery!" Brad yelled.

"Now, Mr.' Brad." Cora patted his arm. "You can't expect Miss Libby to bounce all the way to the cemetery and then turn right around and bounce right back. Not on her first day out of the birthin' bed. It ain't right."

Colleen nudged him toward the wagon. "Now, Brad. You need some time off. You've been working way too hard lately. You take Libby and Charlie to the cemetery then stop somewhere for a short picnic." She pointed at the large wagon. "Cora's right when she says Libby shouldn't be jounced all over the country in your contraption."

Brad whooshed out a breath. "Oh, all right. I know when I'm outnumbered. But I wasn't planning on jouncing her all over the country." His next words were spoken with painstaking slowness to emphasis his point. "We were only going to the cemetery."

Within a short time, Lucy was sleeping peacefully in the basket behind the seat, Charlie was squealing with delight at being so high from the ground, Libby was glancing around nervously for the same reason, and Brad was snapping the reins against the horses' rumps. As the wagon rumbled down the driveway, Cora and Colleen smiled at each other and shook hands. Their mission was accomplished.

****

B y the time the novelty of riding in the wagon wore off and Charlie had settled down by laying his head on her lap, Libby thought it was safe enough to ride and talk at the same time. The pictures she had formed in her mind about riding in these wagons didn't do justice to the actual uncomfortable bouncing. Her one hope was the rocking and swaying would keep Lucy lulled enough to stay asleep a good while longer.

Libby fanned herself with her hand. "Is it always this hot?"

"Isn't it like this in Wisconsin?"

"Not in early June, it isn't," she answered.

Brad slapped the reins against the horses' rumps. "C'mon, boys. This'll take all day at this rate."

"I'm sorry about how this turned out. I only wanted to see Ben's grave. All this other stuff was Cora and Colleen's idea. I could have waited another day when I had planned things better with Lucy."

Brad glanced at Libby. Her bottom lip trembled. "You're a strong woman, Libby."

"Not hardly."

"I'm not sure how I would have handled things if I were in your shoes. Given the circumstances, you're doing great. I don't know anyone else who could have had those things happen to you and still be able to function. Most women would have taken to their beds on purpose. You only wanted to get out. I understand how it feels to lose someone you love. You've lost more than most."

Libby let out an unladylike grunt. "I'll say. One hundred and fifty-four years is a lot to lose."

He needed to change the subject and pointed at her shoes. "What are those things?"

"Oh, not you, too!" Libby sighed. "They're called tennis shoes. I didn't have anything else to put on my feet."

"Your ankles are showing. You shouldn't be showing your ankles."

"And I have a feeling you shouldn't be noticing, Mr. Kemble."

Brad laughed. "I'm sorry, but it's hard not to when they're attached to red, what did you call them? Tennis shoes?"

"Yes, tennis shoes. The boots in the wardrobe in my room were too small. But then, so are these clothes." When Brad didn't comment, she went on. "I hope you don't mind my going through the wardrobe in my room. I understand these clothes were your wife's?"

He shrugged. "Yes. I recognize them. Someone has to wear them."

"Your wife must have been a dainty woman."

Brad acknowledged the complement with a nod.

"Colleen is going to talk to you about fixing some of them for me. When she questioned me about my clothes, I told her we wore different ones in Wisconsin."

"By the looks of your clothes, I would say things change a lot in the next 150 years."

Libby frowned at him. "So, you finished going through my things? You could have left them alone once you knew for sure where I was from. You didn't need to keep snooping."

"I didn't go through your things once I put them in the attic. I made the comment from what I saw before you caught me. No matter what you think, snooping is not one of my favorite things to do."

The air was thick with displeasure. They rode in silence.

"Are we almost there, yet?" Charlie asked.

"I see there's one question surviving generations." Brad's laughter cleared the air. "I can remember asking the same thing when we would go into town with my folks. Seemed to take forever."

"Me, too. Are you going to answer his question?"

"Getting tired of riding?"

"I have to admit, my, um, backside is."

"It's only a few more minutes. We buried your husband in the family cemetery, which is almost to Caleb's place. Even though we call it the family cemetery, you'll find other people buried there, too. We share it with the Castlewoods."

"Aren't they the people who owned your place?"

"Yes. Belinda Castlewood still lives in the area, but everyone else in the family has passed on. You'll meet her eventually, I'm sure."

By the sarcastic tone in his voice, Libby wasn't so sure she wanted to. She was about to question him about the Castlewoods when he announced their arrival at the cemetery.

In her mind's eye, Libby pictured rows and rows of headstones in an open field, with a few trees scattered here and there. This cemetery was in the woods. If a person didn't know it was here, they would have passed it by. In a hundred years or so, unless there was family still around to care for it, it would probably be overgrown and neglected, the caretakers waiting for the newest stone to reach one hundred years so they could all be dug up and moved to a larger one, making room for development of houses or strip malls.

Right now, the fenced-in area was lovingly tended. Libby wasn't sure how they kept the grass mowed, but not a blade was out of place. Flowers grew in front of every headstone. Which one was Ben's and who took care of it? Again, Brad seemed to read her mind.

"Your husband's grave is set apart from the family." He helped her down from the wagon. "Colleen hasn't had a chance to plant flowers here yet, and only a wooden cross is marking the site." After assuring Libby of Lucy's safety at being left in the wagon, Brad picked up Charlie in his free arm and guided them around the perimeter of the graveyard. In a slight clearing a lone grave stood, a bare mound of dirt giving testimony to a recent burial. A bunch of dried daisies lay on the dirt.

"I want you to know we gave him a Christian burial. Even though a minister was not present, Caleb read from the Bible and Colleen sang some songs. The children picked flowers and we all said prayers. It was the best we could do. I don't know what religion you are, but God is God, and I believe your Ben is resting with Him now."

Libby rested her hand on Brad's forearm. Tears were backing up into her throat, making it difficult to talk. "Thank you so much for what you have done. I can tell you buried Ben with care, even though you didn't know him. It means a lot to me." Libby reached up on her toes and kissed the side of Brad's mask.

****

B efore he could react , Libby sat on the ground beside the grave and put Charlie on her lap. Brad took the hint and left her alone. As he was walking away, he heard Charlie ask if that's where his daddy was buried, then the boy's tears when Libby told him it was.

For the first time since her death, Brad had no desire to visit Lucinda's grave. Instead, he wanted to keep an eye on Libby and Charlie. He also felt he needed to listen for Lucy. In Libby's state of mind right now, she probably wouldn't hear her. He leaned against a tree halfway between the wagon and Ben's grave. Libby rocked Charlie back and forth, occasionally wiping tears from her face. Eventually Charlie got tired of sitting and walked over to Brad.

"My daddy is over there. I guess he's not buried in your back yard."

Brad knelt down in front of Charlie. "No, he's not. We don't bury people in our yards."

"How come?"

"Well, you play in the yard, don't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"You wouldn't want to be stepping on your daddy now, would you?"

"No."

"Well, neither would I."

"Is your little boy in the ground here?" Charlie asked.

Brad was surprised the boy remembered being told his son had died. "Yes, he is."

"Can I see him?"

Brad raised an eyebrow. "You want to see where my son is buried?"

"Yup."

"All right. Let's check with your mother first." Libby was lying on her side on the ground next to Ben's grave, the bottoms of her red shoes pointing toward him. He would have been more shocked at her actions if they didn't resemble his when he first visited Lucinda's grave. By lying on the ground next to her, he felt part of Lucinda. Was Libby willing Ben to life as he'd tried to with Lucinda?

Brad decided not to disturb her. He led Charlie through the maze of headstones, being careful not to step on the graves themselves. When they finally stopped, Charlie flopped to his knees.

"Do you miss your little boy?"

"Yes."

"I miss my daddy an awful lot. Do you think he misses me?"

Brad crouched down behind Charlie and put his arms around him. "I know he misses you, Charlie."

Charlie leaned into Brad's chest. "Will you be my daddy now?"

Brad suppressed a laugh. It was a thought creeping into his mind too often lately. Although he didn't know Libby well enough to make her his wife, he would love to be a father to Charlie and Lucy. He reached up and touched his mask where Libby had kissed him. She did seem to be a nice person, though. Didn't care about his mask or what may be behind it. Brad brought his thoughts up short. What on earth could he be thinking? Libby's husband recently died. There was no way he would intrude upon her mourning. He didn't even know if her being here was permanent or not. Maybe all three of them would be whisked away as quickly as they came. It was a thought Brad didn't care for. He felt a tug on the bottom of his mask.

"Brad! Are you going to be my daddy or not?"

"Not right now, Charlie. I'll help take care of you and Lucy and your mother, but I can't be your father."

"Oh." Charlie hung his head. "How come my daddy doesn't have any nice flowers?"

"I guess no one had time. Would you like to pick some for him?"

"Sure. My daddy liked to pick flowers for Mommy. My Mommy loves flowers."

"Really?" It was a piece of information he filed away for future use.

When Brad and Charlie returned to Libby, she was sitting up, watching their approach.

"We picked flowers for Daddy."

"I see, honey. Daddy will like them." She took the bunch of dandelions and daisies from Charlie and placed them next to the dried-up ones.

"I think I heard Lucy crying. We'd best be going back," Brad said.

The wailing got louder as they approached the wagon.

"She sure sounds mad, Mommy. Why is she so mad?"

Libby laughed and moved faster to her daughter. "She's not mad, Charlie. She's hungry."

"Well, I'm hungry and I'm not screaming my head off!"

Libby ruffled her son's hair. "Since she can't talk, it's her way of telling me she's hungry,"

"Do you think she can hold off until we find a better place to eat?" Brad asked hopefully. They had reached the wagon where he helped Charlie and Libby up onto the seat.

"I don't know. Maybe if I hold her. How far do we have to go?"

Brad jumped onto the wagon bed. He scooped Lucy up in his arms and handed her to Libby. "How long can you keep her quiet? That's about how far we'll travel."

Libby was too concerned with getting Lucy quiet to think about the skillful way Brad had picked Lucy up and handed her off.

Libby was able to hold her daughter off until Brad found a spot along a creek. Brad brought out Lucy's basket and when he was handed her, carefully laid the baby in it. She immediately began to scream. Libby jumped down from the wagon before he had a chance to help her. He grabbed the pillow and a blanket Cora had tossed in at the last minute. At Libby's directions, he spread the blanket near a tree and propped the pillow against it. She picked Lucy up and undid her blouse, attached Lucy to her breast—all before she sat down.

"Cora must have thought we were going to gone for days." Brad pulled out fried chicken, hard boiled eggs, fresh bread, a chocolate cake, and a glass jar of lemonade. "She has enough food here for an army."

"I'm hungry enough to eat a bear!" Charlie reached for a chicken leg.

"Wait a minute, young man. You have to wash your hands first." Brad swung a squealing Charlie under his arm and headed for the creek.

While they were gone, Libby quickly switched Lucy to her other breast. By the time they came back, Lucy had slowed down her nursing and was nearly asleep. Libby turned her back to Brad and Charlie, buttoned herself up, and burped Lucy. A large gas bubble coming from her made Charlie giggle and brought a laugh to Brad.

"Did that sound really come from a little peanut like her?" Brad asked. "What do you think, Charlie, is your sister part bear?"

Charlie giggled and tried to burp louder than Lucy. Libby smiled at his antics as she placed Lucy in the basket. "Okay, Charlie, enough horsing around. Let's eat."

A short time later, with the remains of the picnic back in the basket, Brad lay prone on the blanket, his arms resting beneath his head.

Libby was in the same position, but with her head on the pillow and Charlie's head on her lap, sound asleep. Now was as good as time as any to talk with Brad.

"Brad?"

"Hmm?"

"I haven't had a chance to thank you for being so good to Charlie and me. Especially Charlie. Most men wouldn't take the time."

"I like the boy and his father is gone. I hope you don't mind, but a boy needs a man to help him grow up right."

Libby thought of all the boys in her class growing up without a father and how things were not working out. "I don't mind. I happen to agree with you. I don't want him to be a bother."

"He's not. Like I said— I like him."

"Do you really believe we're from the future?"

Brad shrugged and crossed his feet at the ankles. "I don't know why, but I do. I wish I knew how."

"Do you think we'll be able to go back?"

"I don't know. Do you want to go back?"

Libby was surprised by his question. "Of course I do. It's where my life is. Things are so different there."

"Better than here?"

Libby had to think about his question before answering. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. "Yes, in some ways. Medicine is better. People live longer. You can go from place to place faster."

"In these car things Charlie talks about?"

"Yes, in cars and planes, boats and trains."

"We have boats and trains."

"Yes, but they go faster in 2024."

"Does going faster make it better?" he asked.

His question took Libby aback. She thought about the fast-paced life she lived. Always racing around trying to get everything done. "I guess not."

Brad rolled to his side facing Libby. Tell me about your life."

"You already know I was married to Ben. We had a good marriage. I taught fifth grade."

Brad interrupted. "You taught? But you're married and have children."

Libby had to stop and recall why it should surprise him. Then she remembered the rules of the day. "In the future women can be married, have children, and teach, or be a secretary, a doctor, or even a lawyer. She can be and do anything she wants."

"What about the children? Who takes care of them?"

"We hire babysitters or put them in day care."

"You let strangers take care of your children? Doesn't sound right to me."

Even though she loved teaching, there were times when Libby believed it wasn't right, either. Guilt wrapped itself around her heart every time she dropped Charlie off at day care. She thought about all the children who were left on their own because both their parents worked or didn't care. But it was the way things were done.

"Anything else good about your time?" Brad asked.

"Indoor plumbing and showers. Showers are the best!" Libby responded emphatically.

"Explain."

"We have running water in our homes, coming from pipes. We turn a faucet and water comes out. You don't have to go outside to a little building to take care of business. We have toilets. Once you, uh, take care of business, you flush the toilet and the mess is swept away."

"Where does it go?"

"Into the sewers."

"What's a shower?"

Using her hands to help, she tried to describe the pipe coming out of the wall, allowing water to spray down on a person.

"Sounds like a waterfall," Brad said.

"Sort of, but with hot water and you're not sitting in your own dirty water."

"Tell me more of your time."

Libby closed her eyes and thought about ‘her time.' Pollution? Wars? Pesticides in their food? Rape? Murder? Divorce? Noise? Right now, it was so incredibly quiet. No cars or planes. Even in the quietest moments of her day, there was some sound, no matter how faint. Even when she and Ben went camping in remote woods, there was still noise. Right now, it was peaceful.

****

B rad watched Libby close her eyes. She looked so serene. He wished he could see her thoughts; look into her world. But he liked the world he lived in. He couldn't imagine these car things all over the place or women leaving their children with strangers. Those shower things sounded nice, though. Libby's silence went on long enough for Brad to think she was asleep. He watched the slow rise and fall of her breasts. He felt the slow rise in a part of his body. Something he hadn't experienced in a long time. Why was he reacting to her this way?

"Brad?"

The sound of her voice nearly made him jump out of his pants. A quick look at her face reassured him her eyes were still closed. He rolled onto his stomach in case she should look his way. He certainly didn't want her to view his attraction to her.

"What?" he answered.

"Will you show me where you found us? Maybe we'll find some clues to help get us back."

Brad's stomach tightened at the thought of Libby and her children returning to their time. He made a quick decision. He wouldn't help.

"No."

Libby sat up quickly, toppling Charlie to the ground, waking him up. "What do you mean, no? We need to get home."

"I can't show you," Brad said. He jumped to his feet and stared down at Libby. "Let's get going."

"But why?"

There was no way he could tell her he wanted her to stay and why. Unfortunately, their peaceful afternoon was ruined.