The Sapphire Brooch by Katherine Logan (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

squeaking, but decided it would be wise to keep her mouth shut.

Thin man put his notepad in his pocket. “If you think of anything that might give us a lead on him, please let us know. We’ll give you a call if we have any more questions. Are you going to be working at your office in Richmond tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “Call me there if you have any questions.”

The officers caught the next elevator off the surgical floor, and Charlotte let out a relieved breath when the door closed behind them.

Ken eyed her from under his thicket of eyebrows. “That went well.”

She linked her arm with his. “Do you still have those steaks? I’m starving.”

“It’s after midnight.”

“My stomach doesn’t care what time it is.”

“I’ll cook for you but only if you promise to tell me the truth about where you’ve been.”

“Deal.”

Thirty minutes later she was soaking in the hot tub with a glass of wine in her hand while Ken grilled the steaks on his he-man barbecue several feet away.

“Okay, spill it. Who’s the guy and how’d he get shot?”

“You’re not going to believe this, so I’m only going to give you the synopsis. Are you ready?”

“Go for it.”

“Someone from Edinburgh, presumably a lawyer, sent me a Japanese puzzle box. Inside the box was a sapphire brooch. Inside the brooch were words written in Gaelic. I spoke the words, traveled back in time, and landed in the middle of the actual Battle of Cedar Creek. I was captured with the wounded General Ramseur and tended him all night until he died. The next day Sheridan sent me to Washington to meet with President Lincoln, who personally asked me to go to Chimborazo Hospital in Richmond to rescue Major McCabe, a secret agent. When I found the major, I realized he would die without antibiotics and surgery. The president had gone to extraordinary lengths to save him, so I did the only thing I could think of to give him a chance. I brought him here.”

Ken pointed at her with the grilling tongs. “That story is so far-fetched not even Jack could have made it up.”

“It’s true.”

“Well, if it’s true, I have one question for right now. Did you tell Ramseur he had a daughter named Mary?”

“Of course.”

“Then it was damn well worth the trip.”

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “You believe me?”

“Hell no, I don’t believe you. I think you hooked up with some guy and have been screwing in the woods for thirty-six hours.”

She lightly thunked her head on the edge of the hot tub. “Why do you do this to me?”

“Look, it makes no difference to me. In fact, I’m glad you got laid. But you were less than forthcoming with the police. Tell me the truth. Is your new lover in some kind of trouble?”

“Trouble? If I hadn’t brought him back with me, and he’d survived, the Confederate Army would have hanged him. Trouble? Yes, he’s in trouble. He’s a Union officer who was caught behind Confederate lines out of uniform.”

“Calm down. I’m on your side, remember?”

“I’ve never lied to you or given you any reason to doubt me.”

Ken flipped the steaks and adjusted the cooking temperature. “Just for the sake of argument, if he’s who you say he is, what are you going to do with him?”

She put the wineglass to her lips and mumbled, “Take him back,” against the rim, grimacing and doubting she had the fortitude to make another trip to the past.

Ken jerked his head in her direction, dropping the tongs, which skidded toward the hot tub. “What? You can’t be serious. You barely escaped unscathed. Why would you return?”

“He didn’t ask to come to the twenty-first century. He deserves to live out his life in his own time.”

“If soldier boy had survived the gunshot, he would have been executed. One way or the other, his time was up. What you did was give him a brand-new life. He needs to live out the new life he’s got, not the one he would have lost.”

She took a long drink that emptied the goblet then held out the glass to Ken.

“Are you asking for a refill?”

“Yes, please.

“The steaks are done.” He turned off the grill and shut off the gas valve. “You need a towel. Hold on.”

He opened the storage cabinet and grabbed a pair of clean scrubs and an extra-large fluffy towel that smelled faintly of Downy Clean Breeze dryer sheets. She wrapped it around her bikini-clad body.

“You know any man, even your nineteenth-century major, would fall in love with you if you’d only give them a chance. Open up more than a corner of your heart, Charlotte, and let some deserving guy in. Let him win the whole kit and caboodle.”

“I’m not a contest.”

“That’s not what—”

She pressed her finger against his lips. “Not tonight, please.”

He kissed the fingertip. “Okay, let’s talk about the patient. He might not survive, although he looked better than I expected when we left.”

She slipped into scrubs that smelled like the towel, clean and fresh.

“He’ll survive.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Any man who can call President Lincoln and General Grant his friends, and can linger for a couple of days with a gut shot, and can fly through a two-hour surgery, is going to be hard to kill. Plus the bacteria infecting him have absolutely no drug resistance. I predict not only will Major McCabe survive, he’ll probably handle living in the twenty-first century with aplomb, and will still demand to be returned to his time.”

“If we’re making predictions, I’ll predict that the green-eyed major will worm his way into your heart. I’ll even wager another steak dinner it happens before Christmas.”

She laughed. “You’ve got a bet, and when you lose, I want sautéed mushrooms and a loaded baked potato with my next steak.”

He put the rib eyes on a platter and opened the door into the kitchen. “Don’t hold out for the mushrooms unless you intend to cook them.”

She collected the bottle of wine and the