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

“There’s a portrait of her hanging at Meredith’s winery. I don’t know how old she was when it was painted, but she was still beautiful.”

“She’s never stopped missing ye. When I tell her about meeting ye, she’ll want to hear everything about ye and the farm.”

They went out into the corridor, and a golden retriever plowed into Braham, planting his paws on Braham’s chest. Braham hissed, clutching the wound on his belly, but still managed to scratch the dog behind his ears. “Hello, Tate. Ye remember me, don’t ye?” He had very fond memories of Kit’s dog, cat, and stallion. They had gone back in time with her and traveled the Oregon Trail in 1852.

Tate barked.

Elliott patted the dog’s head. “That’s the most excitement we’ve seen from ye in months. Now get down.” Tate sat, his tongue lolling.

“Where’s Tabor?” Braham asked. “As I remember, they were never far apart.”

A Maine Coon cat sauntered out of the front room.

“There ye are.” Gingerly, Braham squatted and gave Tabor a rub, too. “It’s been a long time, old girl. It was a hard trip we made.” He glanced up at Elliott while continuing Tabor’s rub. “My crossing wasn’t so bad, but Kit, Cullen, and the critters had it much worse.”

Elliott gave Braham’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Water under the bridge now. Kit and Cullen eventually got to where they needed to be.”

Braham straightened, grimacing. “Now I’m in a similar situation.”

Elliott grabbed a jacket and a green cap with a MacKlenna Farm symbol from a coat rack by the door. Jack had worn a similar cap with New York Yankees written on it. Braham hadn’t wanted to offend Jack by asking why a good Southerner wore a Yankee cap.

“Cocktails are served at five in the library. Some of my staff joins us, including Kevin and David. They’ll be glad to meet ye. They’re the only ones here besides Meredith who know the truth about Kit.”

“If my memory serves, Kit called Kevin yer aide and David yer bodyguard.”

“Among other things—”

“Doctor Fraser,” an older woman called from the back of the house. “Kevin said you’ve got company. Is he staying for dinner? I need to know.”

Elliott zipped up his jacket. “Yes, Mrs. Collins. He’ll stay for dinner, and please have the guest room prepared.”

Braham shoved his hands into his pockets. “I can’t—”

Elliott held up his hand, interrupting Braham. “Trust me. It’s simpler this way.”

“But I can’t—”

Elliott gave him a direct look Braham found easy to interpret. He’d seen it on the faces of every general he’d ever met. “If I decide to loan ye Kit’s brooch, ye won’t need the room. If I decide not to, ye will. In that case, I’ll fly ye back to Richmond in the morning and have someone drive the car. Unless yer Virginia host shows up on my doorstep, too.”

“I don’t know how she could.”

“Don’t ever doubt the power of a woman, the Internet, or a tracking device.”

Dread hung in a tight knot in the back of Braham’s throat. “What’s a tracking device?”

Elliott pointed to a nearby table. “That.” He picked up a small black box and tossed it to Braham. “The owner of the car ye were driving knows exactly where ye are now.”

Braham’s heart skipped several beats. “This wasn’t in the car’s manual. I would have read about it.”

Elliott laughed. “There’s no way ye can learn all ye need to know by reading a damn manual. If ye and Kit aren’t two birds in the same nest. I swear, she thought she could go back in time and cross the Oregon Trail because she had been in reenactments. She had a lot to learn when she got there, didn’t she?”

He pursed his lips, thinking. If Charlotte and Jack knew where he was, they could show up at the door any minute. Or would they? Charlotte wouldn’t even know he was gone until after seven o’clock. Then she and Jack would have to talk, and then they would have to get to the farm. He had at least twelve hours to convince Elliott to loan him the ruby brooch.

“She did have a lot to learn,” Braham said. “Mostly about herself.”

“Changed history, too.” He put his arm around Braham’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go see my son ride his pony.”

Braham stopped when he spotted a portrait of a young pregnant Kit hanging on the wall. “Sean painted this a few weeks before Thomas was born. He had an awful time getting her to sit still.”

“No one recognizes her as the young girl who grew up here. I think it’s the extra weight she’s carrying in her face.”

Braham gazed fondly at the portrait. Would he ever see her again? When they had said their good-byes in California before he left for the war in 1861, they both knew it was a possibility, although they hadn’t discussed it. Now he was in the house she grew up in, he ached to see her again.

“It would break her heart if I didn’t come home,” Braham said.

Elliott gave him a rigid smile. “Kit didn’t fight fair either.”

Braham mirrored Elliott’s smile. “She said she learned it from ye.”

Elliott readjusted his already-straight ball cap. “I’ll give ye my decision after dinner.”

Braham had the distinct feeling Elliott was stalling. But why? It wasn’t like he could search the Internet for information about him. Braham didn’t exist in the present century. And there was no way Elliott could find out about Charlotte and Jack. Braham had been careful not to mention any names.

Elliott’s phone beeped. He checked the message. “James Cullen’s waiting. He’s taking his first jump today.”

Braham took a step backward, slapping a hand over his chest as if that could contain his racing heart. “A two-year-old?”

“Don’t look so shocked. How do ye think Kit learned to ride?”

“But not at two.”

“Ye’re right. She was eighteen months when I put her on her first pony. Meredith wouldn’t let James Cullen on a horse before he turned two. We compromised at