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

with the same fear as going into enemy territory. What could he do if he ran out? Walk. But he wasn’t going to run out. He had calculated carefully. He’d make it to the farm.

Toward ten o’clock he stopped, rummaged through his food bag, and gobbled a ham and cheese sandwich and an apple before getting back on the road quickly. At noon, he passed the exit to Morehead, Kentucky, and pulled off to eat the other sandwich. He arrived in Lexington with little more than an eighth of a tank of gas left. Was it enough to get to the farm? If it wasn’t, he’d get out and hike the rest of the way. He had the directions written on paper, just in case.

When he spotted a sign for a park, he pulled over, got out, and stretched his legs. Although he had spent the past seven hours rehearsing his speech to Elliott Fraser, he took the time to practice once more. His presentation was almost as important as delivering a closing argument in a murder trial.

After a quick walk through the park to loosen the tension in his shoulders, he got back in the car, followed the GPS directions, and thirty minutes later pulled up to the security gate at MacKlenna Farm.

A man stepped out of the guardhouse. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” Braham said. “My name is Abraham McCabe. I’d like to speak to Doctor Fraser about his goddaughter, Kit MacKlenna.”

The guard went back into the guardhouse and picked up a phone like the one Jack had on his desk. Braham had decided using Kit’s name would be his best approach. It at least guaranteed he would get Elliott’s attention.

The guard returned and the gate opened. “Follow the road to the house. Doctor Fraser will meet you there.”

Braham nodded and proceeded down the road. The grounds had changed since his visit in 1852. There were more paddocks, more horses, and fewer trees.

The two-story red brick mansion finally came into view. The portico’s four Doric columns guarded the residence as they had for more than two hundred years. He brought the car to a halt in front of the porch and, after taking a moment to mentally prepare himself, he climbed out.

A tall, trim, distinguished-looking man with graying hair was waiting in the doorway. Braham could have recognized Elliott Fraser in a crowd. The doctor looked exactly like Kit’s sketches of him. Braham took the stairs to the porch slowly, partly to avoid pulling his incision and partly to prepare for the conversation.

Elliott reached out his hand. “Mr. McCabe. Ye certainly have a familiar name.”

Braham shook the older man’s hand. “After all Kit has said about ye, I feel I already know ye.”

“Come in. We have much to discuss.”

Braham followed Elliott through the door riddled with bullet holes. “Where’d the bullet holes come from? They weren’t there when I was here with Kit in ’52.”

“The MacKlennas were attacked by renegade soldiers toward the end of the war. They saw the holes as a badge of honor and refused to replace the door.” Elliott led the way into his office. If the leather chairs in front of the fireplace weren’t the same ones, they damn well looked like it. The wet bar was a new addition though, and Braham was ready for a drink.

“What can I get ye? Water? Soda?”

“Whisky.”

Elliott poured Braham’s drink and got a bottle of water for himself.

“I thought ye were a whisky man, too.”

“A few years ago, I realized alcohol had more control of me than I had of it. Gave it up one day and haven’t had a drop since. Don’t miss it. I feel better, my leg healed, and I’m running longer distances now. Enough about me. Let’s talk about ye. My goddaughter mentioned a friend named Braham McCabe. But I don’t see how it could be ye.”

“We’re cousins,” Braham corrected.

Elliott smiled. “Please, sit.”

“My full name is Michael Abraham McCabe. I’m a major in the United States Cavalry.” Braham settled into one of the leather chairs and Elliott sat in the other. “Cullen Montgomery is as close to a brother as I’ll ever have. I’ve always trusted and believed him. When he told me Kit, your goddaughter, was from the twenty-first century, I was shocked, but I had no reason to doubt him. I know about Kit’s ruby brooch. I also know there are three brooches. Kit traveled to the nineteenth century using the magic in the ruby. I was brought forward by the magic in a sapphire brooch. Now I need to get back, as soon as possible.”

Elliott remained stone-faced. “Go on.”

“While reenacting the Battle of Cedar Creek, a surgeon from Richmond, Virginia was transported back in time to the actual battle—”

Elliott interrupted. “Have ye seen the brooch?”

“Only a glimpse, but I heard the Gaelic incantation.”

“Go on,” Elliott said.

“During the battle, the surgeon was captured and subsequently accepted a mission at the request of President Lincoln. I was the mission.” Braham stopped a moment and sipped his whisky, studying Elliott’s face for a reaction. He saw none. Braham took it for a positive sign. At least Elliott wasn’t dismissing him outright. Braham set his drink on the table and continued.

“I was shot and captured in Richmond while on a special assignment for the president. Lincoln needed the information I had obtained, and arranged for the surgeon to facilitate my rescue. When the doctor found me, though, I was dying. The only way to save my life was to bring me to the future. This all occurred two weeks ago.”

“Then why are ye here in Kentucky?” Elliott asked.

“She’s afraid if she goes back again she might not be able to return, and the experience she had was quite frightening. As a doctor, she doesn’t believe I’ve recovered enough to risk what could be waiting for me in my own time.”

“Have ye told her about Kit or the ruby brooch?”

Braham shook his head. “She only knows my friend Cullen Montgomery started Montgomery Winery, and