The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (comprehension books .TXT) 📗

did, too. “Let’s mount up and cross the river again. At least we’ll be on the same side as the ranch.”

JC mounted up first, then held out his hand for her. She slung her leg up behind the saddle. “I’m impressed with Mercury. He’s yet to balk at crossing the river.” She grabbed the Cheyenne roll instead of JC’s waist. It was the best way to ride double. If she slid off, she wouldn’t take him with her.

“When Mercury was a colt, I had him in the swimming pool first thing every morning. It freshened him up and made him feel good. He’d get frisky as soon as he saw the pool.”

“So you trained him?”

“I did some, but a trainer at the farm in Lexington did most of it. After we were named to the Land Rover US Eventing Squad for the World Equestrian Games and competed and came in second, I decided it was time to retire before one of us got injured.”

“And you brought him out here? Isn’t that risky?”

“Probably, but he’s the only horse I had in DC. Mercury’s dam is pregnant again, so I might have another horse to train next year.”

“Who’s the sire?”

“The same stallion who sired Mercury. He belongs to my uncle. The mare I found at an Irish horse show. At the end of the event, I made the owner an offer he couldn’t refuse. Then I shipped her to Virginia, and Uncle Braham handled the cover.”

“That sounds like a story from a manuscript I read recently. TR saw a horse he liked and wanted, so he pressured the owner to sell and paid him a hundred dollars on the spot.”

“Thanks for the warning.” JC patted Mercury’s neck. “I’ll be prepared in case TR makes an offer.”

“I read that he can be very persuasive.”

JC glanced back at her. “So can I. How do you think I got the mare?”

They crossed the river, and Mercury climbed up the bank on the opposite side. As soon as they were on level ground, they dismounted and walked for about thirty minutes.

When a log ranch house came into view, she stopped a moment to stare and then grinned. “It’s TR’s ranch. He’s here. I just know it. Theodore Roosevelt, the twenty-sixth president of the United States.” She held out her arm. “Pinch me, please!”

Instead, he kissed her cheek. “Stay calm?”

“I’ll try!” Ensley took off at a jog. “Look at that veranda. It’s just like a sketch I’ve seen. I want to sit in one of those rockers, book in hand, while a cool breeze stirs along the river and drifts across my face, with TR rocking in one of the other chairs.” She was about to explode with excitement. “Wait for a second! I need to clean up before I meet him.”

JC put his hand on her back to keep her moving forward. “Just be your charming self. I doubt he’ll care what you look like.”

The one-story ranch house stood near the riverbank with a long veranda shaded by leafy cottonwoods. Directly across the sandbar was a strip of meadowland, and behind that were sheer cliffs and grassy plateaus. Several outbuildings—barn, chicken coop, blacksmith—were nearby. Cattle fed peacefully, pausing to watch as Ensley and JC passed by.

She bounced on her toes, still grinning madly. “This place has been called the Walden Pond of the West. I’ve been here so many times and imagined the house. Seeing the real deal is sort of mind-blowing. Every time I’ve been here, I’ve felt the tranquility and connection to nature. The rangers tell visitors that the land remains unchanged since TR’s day. And, now I can see it’s true.”

When they got within a dozen yards, Ensley yelled out, “Hello, the house.”

“Why don’t we just knock on the door?” JC asked, heading toward the veranda.

“Stop!” she protested. “That’s bad manners. You need to let the people inside peek out to study you and then decide if they want to be neighborly.”

“How do you know that?”

“I grew up in North Dakota. Just stand back. If anyone’s home, they’ll come to the door.”

Within two minutes, the door flung open, and a tall thin man bounded out, wearing a fringed deerskin shirt and trousers with boots peeking out the bottom and a neatly tied red scarf around his neck. Cowboys had a thing about having a flash of color in their clothes.

But what distinguished him most was the pair of pince-nez glasses. Oh, and something else. The sterling silver hunting knife rumored to have come from Tiffany’s was tucked into a cartridge belt, and a pair of grappling irons inlaid with gold jingled when he walked.

Ensley froze. Although she couldn’t move, her heart made up for it, racing heart-attack fast.

It’s him. My God, it’s him.

For the past two weeks, she’d been trudging through the Badlands, kept moving only by a single goal—meeting TR—but never really believing it was possible.

And here she was. And there he was. And whatever she had to do to spend as much time with him as he would allow, she would do, including riding another bull.

Okay, maybe that was a bit drastic. Still, she had to convince TR that she and JC could be both intellectually stimulating and adventuresome hunting companions to have around for an extended visit.

JC glanced at her, and he must have realized she was tongue-tied, so he said, “Sir, I’m James Cullen Fraser from New York City.”

Ensley cringed at the lie, but she had agreed to it, so all she could do now was smile and support his statement with a shy nod.

JC continued, “This is my wife, Ensley. We’ve been on the trail for a few weeks. And I wonder if you’ll permit us to camp here for the night.”

“What brings you to the Dakotas?” TR asked.

“It’s a long story, sir.”

“I just came in from a long day on the trail, and I’m in a mood to hear it. Come inside. We’re about to sit down to dinner. It’s simple food out here, but you’re welcome