Chapter Eight

L ibby slowly woke from a dream about a little girl wearing a pinafore, ruffled pantalets, and her hair done up in ringlets. A tall, dark-haired man walked beside the little girl, holding her hand. They laughed at a puppy tumbling at their feet. In the dream a baby was whimpering. Gradually the whimpering became full-fledged screaming. She peeled her eyes open. This wasn't a dream.

She rolled over toward the crying and smiled. She'd had a little girl last night. Lucy. By the sounds of it, she's starving. About to sit up and swing her feet over the side of the bed, she paused. Someone was standing near the cradle. A woman, dressed in white, with dark hair cascading down her back, a hand resting on the end of the cradle, gazed at Lucy. Libby thought the woman was glowing, but decided it had to be her tired eyes playing tricks on her. Had to be the lighting shining on a nurse.

"Miss? Can you please bring my baby? I think she's hungry."

The woman glanced at Libby but didn't say anything before turning back to the screaming infant.

"Miss? Please, I want to hold Lucy." The woman continued to ignore her. What nurse does such a thing? What was going on? The woman finally leaned over the cradle and reached out as if to pick up the baby. She set watery eyes on Libby. Tears streamed down her cheeks. The pain on the woman's face pierced Libby's heart.

Wait. The woman wasn't going to steal Lucy, was she? She'd read about women who lost a child or couldn't conceive taking children right from the hospital. Libby swept back the blankets, ready to charge at the woman like a she-bear protecting her cubs.

A commotion from outside her door stopped her. Good. Someone was coming. Hopefully, they'd remove this woman from her room. A short, light-skinned black woman entered the room carrying a stack of sheets and towels. A long white apron was tied between her large stomach and overly endowed top. A white cap rested crookedly on her short, curly hair. A welcoming smile greeted Libby.

"My, my, my, but that baby sure do sound hungry. She's a'crowing with the rooster," the woman said jovially. "We best get the bottom changed and the top filled so's we can make her happy." The woman crossed the room, set her supplies on the dresser, and waddled toward the cradle.

Libby frowned. "What happened to the other lady?"

"What lady? You and I are the only ladies in this house. Besides me, Mr. Bradley lives here alone. I'm Cora—housekeeper, cook, nurse, and right now it looks like nanny."

Cora picked up the baby and carried her to Libby. "Sure is a pretty ‘li'l thing. With those long lashes, must be a girl. What's her name? How did you come to be here? By the looks of her she must have just been born. Where's Mr. Bradley? How long you plannin' on stayin? Here honey, you take this sweet thing. If she keeps a squalin,' she'll wake the dead."

Libby cringed at the use of Cora's choice of words. Obviously, she hadn't seen Ben yet.

"Don't mind me, honey. I love to talk. Mr. Bradley says he could go a week without saying a word and there would still be plenty of talkin' being done in this house. I'll shut up now so's you can take care of the babe."

Libby gazed down at Lucy. Her heart swelled with love. "This is Lucinda Marie—Lucy. I'm Libby Daniels." A fierce protectiveness swept through her. Even stronger than when she'd had Charlie. Was she going crazy with her fierce thoughts? Maybe it was because Lucy was a girl and would need more protection than Charlie. Libby came out of her musings when she felt the mattress sag. She looked up and saw Cora sitting on the edge of the bed. Cora frowned at her.

"When I left yesterday mornin' to visit my family, I left Mr. Bradley to himself. How'd you come to be here? I didn't know he knew any women with child in the area. But then, I didn't know any, either."

Cora's silence led Libby to want to answer Cora's many questions. Libby closed her eyes to gather her thoughts. After letting out a long sigh, she began to tell what she remembered. Throughout the narrative Cora let out little sounds of distress or comforted Libby by patting her hand. When Libby mentioned Ben being downstairs, Cora's eyes opened wide, the whites showing around her dark brown irises, tears forming at the corners.

"Oh, you poor, poor thing. Here you are alone with no man to take care of you. What'll ya do now?"

As Libby switched Lucy to her other breast she wondered the same thing.

"I'll probably contact Ben's mother. She can send someone to get me."

"But you won't be able to travel for weeks," Cora told her firmly. "You'll need your bedrest to gain strength after birthin' this ‘lil one."

Weeks? Where did this woman get the idea you had to stay in bed for weeks? When she'd had Charlie, she was in and out of the hospital in a day and a half. "I'll be up by this afternoon. Then I can call my mother-in-law."

Cora was shocked. "This after' noon? You'll do no such thing!" Before Libby could protest, Cora continued on. "Go on."

It took Libby a moment to realize Cora had changed gears and wanted her to continue the story. "Well, Brad got Charlie and me upstairs—"

"Charlie? Who's Charlie?"

"He's my little boy. He's three. He's sleeping in the next room. Anyway, I think it's the next room." Libby paused for a second. "Yes, I recall going there and checking on him before I went downstairs."

"Lord have mercy! Another child in this house!" Cora nearly fell off the bed in her excitement. "Praise the Lord. It's what this house needs, is lots of little ones."

"But I can't stay here, Cora. I need to get to Ben's family."

Cora patted Libby's hand in comfort. "Now, now, honey. Don't you fret none. We'll get you back to your family, but by the time Mr. Bradley sends out a messenger and returns, and after you're healed and rested, it could be a month before you're with your family."

Libby was getting too tired to argue, but she thought it was ridiculous to send someone out when they could just call. "Anyway," Libby continued her story, "I fell asleep and when I woke up, I went to find Ben. While I was downstairs, I went into labor, and Mr. Kemble helped me upstairs. He must have gone for the doctor, because the next thing I knew a man, not wearing a mask, was helping me deliver Lucy."

Cora frowned. "You say a doctor came out here and helped with the babe?"

"Yes. After Lucy was born, he took care of me. Then I guess I fell asleep. The doctor must have cleaned up Lucy, too, because she's spick-and-span and I didn't do it."

"Where was Mr. Bradley during all this?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe he stayed downstairs. Men don't care for those things," Libby answered as she released the slumbering baby from her breast.

"Here, let me take her, and you rest while I go down and fix you something to get your strength up."

A faint bit of sunlight came through the windows. No wonder I'm still so tired. It must still be early in the morning. I must have slept only a few hours. I hope Charlie stays in bed for a while longer. Cora slipped into the room next door. Who was the woman with long hair? was her last thought before slipping into a deep sleep.

****

G ood. Miss Libby is falling asleep. After I check on her little boy, I'll check on Mr. Bradley. He must have had one heck of a night last night. After making sure Charlie was still asleep, she carefully opened Brad's bedroom door. She found him lying in a fetal position near the edge of his bed. Figuring he was cold, Cora covered him with a quilt she had folded on the end of the bed. Yes, sirree, Mr. Bradley, you must have had quite a night. Doctor, indeed. If I don't miss my guess, I'm standing right here looking at him. Shaking her head as she exited the room, she couldn't imagine the turmoil he must have gone through delivering another baby.

****

B rad was jerked awake by the sounds of someone being scolded. He couldn't imagine who Cora was nagging this time. At least it wasn't him. She was forever trying to get him to eat right, drink less, and find someone to marry and have a dozen children with. As Brad pulled off the quilt, he recalled the events of last night, or rather this morning. He'd laid out a man for burial, then had actually delivered a baby. Brad looked at the clock on the mantlepiece. Eight o'clock? He'd never slept this late in his life.

Brad sprung to the floor, his sore body protesting from yesterday's exertions. He twisted and stretched to release his stiff body. He was still wearing the pants and shirt from last night. They were wrinkled. Normally Brad would never have left his room looking like a vagabond, but Cora's yells were becoming persistent. He needed to rescue whomever she was attacking. With a sigh, he picked up his mask from the floor where he had tossed it before dropping into bed, yanked it over his face, and left his room.

The yelling was coming from the room across the hall, the one where he had put the woman, Libby. He wasn't sure he wanted to face her again after last night. Men don't usually get close to women they don't know. She would probably be embarrassed, too. Then he remembered she had thought he had been a doctor.

The door to the room was open. Hoping to avoid getting involved in the chaos going on, he leaned against the door frame, folded his arms across his chest, and viewed the scene before him. His faithful, yet forceful, housekeeper, Cora, was arguing with Libby, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Libby's son, Charlie, was pulling his mother's arm one way and Cora was trying to push her with the other. Cora finally noticed Brad.

"Mr. Bradley, you have to help get this woman back into bed. She can't get up yet; it's too soon since the babe was born."

When Cora called out to him, both Libby and Charlie stopped their tug of war and looked up at him. Libby was blushing.

"Please, I have to use the bathroom. Would you please tell Cora it's all right for me to get up?"

Brad shrugged. "I wouldn't know if it's all right for you to get up or not, but I would imagine you know your body better than Cora does."

"Thank you, sir." She gave Cora one of her teacher looks. "When I had Charlie, I was up and about in a few hours. Women of today don't stay in bed or in the hospital for four days like they did before and if you don't let me up, I'm going to embarrass myself right here and now!"

"Four days?" Cora folded her arms over her chest. "Women stay in bed for at least a week, and if I have anything to say about it, so will you!"

This battle of wills was enjoyable. Lucinda had never argued with Cora, but believed everything Cora said and did to be the gospel truth. As he listened to their discussion, Brad felt a tug on his pantleg. Charlie was straining his neck to look up at him.

"Hey, mister, is that fat lady going to hurt my Mommy?"

Brad ruffled Charlie's hair. "No, Charlie, she's not. She doesn't want your mother to hurt herself. And you shouldn't call her the fat lady. Her name is Cora."

"I'm hungry and I don't think they're gonna feed me. Can you make me sumpin' to eat again?"

"Sure. Let me change my clothes first, and we'll see what we can find." Hopefully, Cora would already have something prepared, or they'd have scrambled eggs again.

"Can I come with you when you change?" Charlie asked as he watched his mother and Cora.

Brad couldn't blame the boy for wanting to leave the room. Even if Libby were to win this battle with Cora, he shouldn't be in the room when his mother took care of herself. "Sure, you can help me pick out my clothes for the day."

"You gonna wear one of those girl shirts again?"

Brad spirits lifted as he took Charlie's hand and headed toward his room. "No, I'll wear one of my work shirts."

"Good. I had to tell the fat lady I didn't like girl shirts. She laughed at me. Did you know I had to go potty in a pot and the fat lady didn't know how to tie my shoes? What are we having to eat?"

Brad chuckled. Here we go again.

****

I t was early afternoon when Libby finally was able to be alone. Cora had left with her lunch tray after making Libby promise she would stay in bed and rest. Lucy was sleeping the sleep of the newborn after having had her fill, and Charlie was down for his nap. He had spent the better part of the morning with Brad, and when he came back to see her, he glanced quickly at his new sister, proclaimed her not as interesting as the new baby horse outside, and proceeded to talk non-stop about what he had seen and done. Every other sentence was filled with ‘Brad said this' and ‘Brad did that' and ‘wait until Daddy sees this'." She was getting rather tired of the man's name. When Charlie woke up from his nap, she was going to have to break the news about his father. Libby thought he was rather young to truly understand the impact of what happened, and even though he would miss his father, Charlie would bounce back and be his usual rambunctious self. Anyway, it's what Libby hoped. It was going to be hard enough to cope without Ben when Charlie threw fits.

Once she got things going here, she would go to her mother-in-law's home in Tennessee where she would have to help her deal with Ben's death. Then she could fly home and decide how she was going to handle the rest of her life without her husband. She definitely would want to continue teaching. She would need the income to support herself and the kids. Maybe she could get a job nearer Ben's mother and they could support each other. Both financially and emotionally. Her mother-in-law was always complaining she never saw enough of her grandchildren. Maybe she would be willing to babysit for them while Libby taught. There was plenty of room in her old farmhouse for the four of them. The antics of the kids could help her get over the loss of her son.

Libby mentally shook herself back to the present. No sense worrying about things before they happened. What she needed to do first was find out how she could leave here with Ben's body and get to his mother's. Libby closed her eyes and wiggled farther under the blankets. Maybe if she hid far enough under the blankets and then came out, she'd find none of this had happened.

After a few minutes she came up for air. A persistent need to relieve herself roared its ugly head. Libby tried to ignore the need when she thought about having to use the chamber pot residing under the bed. She couldn't believe it when Cora had brought it out for her to use. When Libby had insisted she would rather use the bathroom, Cora had looked at her in confusion.

Libby remembered thinking this was an Amish house, but since then, things didn't seem to point in that direction. Amish didn't wear bright-colored clothes like Cora's. They also didn't have non-family members take care of them. If this were an Amish home, Brad would have a wife or a mother to take care of him. His clothing didn't suggest Amish, either. If Libby didn't know better, she would have thought their clothes, speech, and way of living were more suited to the 1800s. She'd read enough historical novels and taught enough US history classes to know the time period.

Libby was struck with another thought. Maybe this is one of those historical tour homes where the employees dressed and acted the part of the time period. She had always thought it would be a fun job when she wasn't teaching in the summer. Ben thought she was crazy. Libby quickly dismissed the tour idea. If these people were employees of an historical home, they certainly were doing one bang-up job of acting like they really lived here. All she knew and felt right now was something strange was going on, and it wasn't postpartum blues or nerves or anything else making her feel this way.

A cool breeze washing across Libby's face drew her attention away from her thoughts. A scent of lilacs accompanied the breeze. All the windows were closed so she scanned the room to find the source of the breeze. A whisper of movement drew Libby's attention toward Lucy's cradle. She suppressed a gasp when she saw a woman standing over the cradle. It was the same one she had seen before. Her long white gown, which might be a nightgown, was blowing around her as if a strong wind were gusting against her. The woman's long, blonde hair was whipped off her face, exposing pale, stark features.

"Miss?" Libby called out in a voice she felt was far from calm. "Who are you? May I help you with something?"

As before, the woman reached out toward Lucy as if she were going to pick her up. Libby's stomach clenched, making her want to leap from the bed and grab Lucy away from the hands of this specter. Then the woman turned to Libby. Again, tears rolled down her cheeks. The sorrow coming from her kept Libby rooted in place. As much as she wanted to protect Lucy, she couldn't move.

As the two women stared at each other, Libby gradually became aware this woman posed no threat to either her or Lucy. There was something ethereal as well as maternal about her. Libby sensed shared events. Somehow, they were tied together. As Libby was about to speak, the woman glanced toward the door. Libby followed her gaze. Brad stood in the doorway, his stance tense.

****

B rad could seriously use a nap. He never realized how exhausting spending a morning with a three-year-old could be. He wondered if he would have eased into all this energy as his child had grown and not have been as tired as he was now. His lack of sleep last night hadn't helped, either. As much as he enjoyed his time with the lad, he was glad when Cora came and took him in for lunch and a nap. Brad thought of his own bed and wished he could fall into it, but he had other pressing matters to attend to. One being Libby's husband. Like it or not, he was going to have to face her and discuss the funeral as well as what her plans were.

As he approached her room, he tried to listen to Libby's soft voice. Was Cora taking care of her? Nothing shocked him as much as what greeted him as he entered the room. Libby was leaning toward her daughter's cradle. The scent of lilacs swept past his nose; one he hadn't enjoyed since Lucinda's death. It was one of her favorites. He closed his eyes as memories of her passed through his mind.

At his name being whispered, he glanced at the cradle. The sight of his wife standing at the end of the cradle, staring at him, made him want to run from the room. That, or run to her, grab her, and kiss her senseless. He knew neither was a possibility so he shut his eyes hoping he was dreaming. When he opened them, the vision was gone; only the essence of lilacs remained. It took him a moment to notice Libby was talking to him.

"Did you see her? Who was she?"

Brad shook himself back to reality, hoping Libby hadn't sensed his near panic. "See who? You're the only one in this room."

Libby knew she hadn't made up the vision but decided to drop it. "Are you okay? You seem nervous. It is okay to come into the room. The baby won't bite."

The urge to laugh was overwhelming. After last night, he of all people knew the baby wouldn't bite. Right now, he wished he could throw her comment back at her to break his tension, but she then might figure out he was the so-called doctor.

"I'm just tired. I spent the morning with your son. I didn't know how much energy is packed into such a small child."

Libby's eyebrows drew together. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble for you. He can be a bundle of questions and energy."

Much of which he didn't understand. "Don't worry, he was fine. We're both fine."

"Good," Libby answered in relief. "Sometimes he gets on people's nerves because of his incessant questions. Right now, he's recharging his batteries and will be going full force until bedtime."

Recharging batteries? What the hell did she mean? He chose to ignore yet another confusing comment by these strange people. He set the large book he'd carried in with him on a bureau, clasped his hands behind his back, and assumed what he hoped to be a stern pose. "I'm not here to complain about Charlie. There are several things I need to talk to you about. First, I want to congratulate you on your new daughter. Cora tells me she's a beauty."

"Do you want to see her or are you afraid of babies?"

He jerked his head up. "Afraid of babies? Of course not. Why do you ask?" Brad could have kicked himself for not having an immediate interest in the infant. He understood new mothers were extremely fond of showing them off. Libby couldn't know he already held a special spot in his heart for the little one.

"Most people at least act interested and want to see a new child. You seem rather...I don't know, ill at ease with me and Lucy."

Brad tried not to let out an audible sigh. "Ma'am, I was assured by Cora that both you and your new daughter were doing just fine. To me all babies look alike and aren't really interesting until they can walk and talk. But, if it'll make you happy so we can get down to other matters at hand, I will take a most heartfelt look at the newcomer."

"Well, don't put yourself out. I was only teasing. It isn't necessary to pretend an interest simply to please me."

Brad walked around the bed to the cradle. "It's all right. I guess since my brother has four, and I've seen, held, and played with every one of them, my interest in babies is not as high as if this had been the first I've ever seen." He glanced down at the cradle. "She is a pretty one just like Cora said," he complimented Libby.

Hi there, little precious. How're you doing this morning? We had quite a night last night, didn't we? I hope I did right by you. Will you remember me when you wake? Your face doesn't look so red anymore. I would give anything to hold you again, but your mommy thinks I don't like babies. Can't let her know how I feel about you, can I? She might figure out this isn't the first time I've set eyes on you. "

Brad's heart swelled with pride as if he were the one responsible for creating this child, not just bringing it into the world. He was grateful for the mask covering his face so Libby couldn't see the moisture in his eyes. Your daddy was one hell of a lucky guy. Oops, sorry Lucy, I shouldn't swear in front of children. I don't know when I'll see you again, precious. Take care, Peanut.

"Yup, she's a beauty, Ma'am. You'll have to beat the boys off with sticks if I don't miss my guess." He walked back around the bed. "Now, can we get back to business?"

Libby bit her bottom lip and frowned. "I guess you mean Ben?"

Brad breathed a sigh of relief; happy she had brought up the subject first and hadn't gone into vapors or hysterics again. Last night had been bad enough. He stood next to the bed and looked down at Libby. Her face had gone pale and the recent look of adoration was replaced with anguish.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I mean Miss Libby, but we have to talk about your husband. I need to know where you are from so we can plan how to get you home."

"We're from Wisconsin," Libby answered. "We were heading home from a Civil War reenactment when we had the accident."

Civil War reenactment? Why would anyone want to recreate such an awful event? She had to be lying. "You traveled from Wisconsin to West Virginia in your condition?"

"It's no more than a twelve-hour drive. Of course that's going seventy miles an hour. Ben likes to drive fast."

Brad sat down in a rocking chair. "Wait a minute. Are you saying you came from Wisconsin to West Virginia in twelve hours? Must be some team of horses your husband has."

Libby drew in a breath then slowly released it. "What do you mean by horses? What are you talking about?" Her eyes widened. "Oh, you mean the horsepower under the hood. We have a plain old Taurus wagon, but like I said, Ben likes to drive fast. I mean he liked to drive fast."

Brad's head pounded. He must have slept less than he thought last night. This woman was making no sense at all. "Ma'am, I'm trying very hard to understand what you are saying. Having a baby must have addled your brain. No one can drive a wagon as fast as you're saying. Not in 1870 anyway. And this Civil War reenactment you're talking about? Why, the war has been over for more than five years."

****

L ibby suppressed a giggle. She must be in one of those historic places where the employees pretend they live in a certain year. But this was getting ridiculous. If the man wanted to play games with her and pretend they were in 1870, then she would let him play on. She certainly didn't want to be the cause of him losing his job.

"So, you say it's 1870. How do I get Ben back home for his funeral? Actually, I thought we could get him back to his mother's place in Tennessee. Lord knows how upset she'll be."

"Where in Tennessee is he from? Maybe we'll be able to get him there before it's too late." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And I'm not saying it's 1870. It is 1870."

Whatever. If he wanted to keep pretending, let him. She had other problems. "What do you mean before it's too late?"

"Uh. Um." He got up from the chair and paced in front of the window. "Uh, when a person dies, and it gets hot like this, the body, uh, tends to, uh..." He paused at the window. "Ma'am, we have to get your husband buried right away. We're having a hot spell and we need to get him in the ground."

"Why can't you all a funeral home to take care of Ben's body, and then take it to his mother's?"

"Ma'am, there isn't an undertaker within twenty miles of here. By the time I sent someone into town, and waited for the undertaker to come here, it would be too late. For the sake of everyone who lives here, we have to bury your husband as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning at the latest."

This man was crazy. Crazy enough to harm her and her children? "Could you please ask Cora to come up here?" Her head spun.

Brad left the room, and a few minutes later Cora came panting into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. Brad followed her into the room.

Cora slapped her hands at her waist. "Mr. Bradley, what did you do to this po' woman? She looks ready to pass out. You should know better than to upset a mama who's nursing. You could ruin her milk."

"It's all right, Cora," Libby assured her, even though the thoughts going through her mind could really ruin her milk. "Cora, I need to know something. What year is it?" Libby held her breath as Cora stared at her as if she had two heads.

"Why, Miss Libby, you know it's the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and seventy."

Can they both be playing the same game? They could be. There's no way I could have lost 154 years. I have to believe they're acting. If I don't and this really is 1870, I'm in big trouble. Big, big trouble. I'll play along until they slip up.

"Why don't you get me a telephone and I'll call my mother-in-law. She can make the arrangements to have a hearse brought here. You do have a phone, don't you?"

Cora gave a quick glance at Brad and frowned. "Ma'am, not only do we not have a phone, but I don't even know what a phone is."

All right. Cora sounded convincing, but she needed to press on. "Maybe we could have Ben's body flown back to Wisconsin. Where's the nearest airport?"

Brad brought his hands up to his face. Was he going to take his mask off? He released a breath, which, with the mask on, sounded a bit like Darth Vader.

Ha! I've got him now. Maybe he's frustrated enough to agree this is all a hoax and let me leave with Ben and the kids.

Instead, Brad pulled up the rocking chair next to her bed and sat down. He turned his head at Cora and through silent communication seemed to agree on something. Libby was even more surprised when he took her hand and slowly rubbed it. The motion was soothing to her rattled nerves.

"Libby, I haven't any idea what you are talking about. I don't know what this phone thing is, or what an airport is. I don't have any idea how you get from Wisconsin to West Virginia in twelve hours. And driving seventy miles an hour? That's ridiculous. The things you and your son talk about just don't make any sense." He paused a moment as if collecting his thoughts. "But one thing I do know is we have to bury your husband tomorrow. There is no time to take him anywhere but to the cemetery on my land. I wish we could wait until you're up and around to attend the service but seeing as Cora and I and a few of my employees are the only ones here, the service won't be large or long. Now are there any questions I can answer for you?"

Libby could think of at least a zillion questions, but Lucy chose the time to wake up to eat. Grrr. She didn't need the interruption, but answers.

Cora waddled to the cradle and relieved Lucy. "Sounds like this lil' one needs refilling. You just go now, Mr. Brad, while Miss Libby and I take care of this sweet thing."

Brad stood. Cora changed the baby's diapers. "I'll leave you alone now." With a curt bow in Libby's direction, he left the room.