The Sapphire Brooch (The Celtic Brooch Trilogy Book 2) (19 page)

He watched the gas gauge needle creep toward the halfway point 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, 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 Frasier, 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 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 you, I feel I already know you.”

“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?”

“Whiskey.”

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

“I thought you were a whiskey 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,” Braham continued. “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 you 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 Cullen is your wife’s ancestor.”

Elliott crossed one leg over the other, rested his ankle on his knee, and tugged on the hem of his trousers. “What do ye’ want from me?”

Braham sat back and rested his hands casually on the arms on the chair. “To borrow the ruby brooch and return to my time.”

“I can’t help you.”

“I think you can. The brooch seems to take people and return them to the same place, but in a different time. If I use the ruby brooch here, on MacKlenna Farm, then I should show up on the farm in 1864. If so, all I have to do is make sure Sean MacKlenna returns the brooch to its hiding place—” Braham pointed to the desk across the room “—inside your desk.”

Elliott dropped his leg and leaned forward, pressing both hands on his knees as though to emphasize the importance of what he was about to say. “What ye’re asking for is not the same as asking to borrow my car. There could be repercussions. I’ll have to take those potential repercussions into consideration.”

Braham willed himself to relax, to maintain his composure, but irritation slipped out. “
Doctor Fraser
. I’m Kit’s first cousin. Which makes me your wife’s cousin, too—”

“I’m well aware of the relationship.”

Elliott’s statement hung in the air.

Braham had practiced his speech for seven hours and it fell apart in less than five minutes. “This is a family matter,” Braham said. “I need your help. President Lincoln is waiting for—and desperately needs—the information I have.”

“It will take ye’ weeks to get to Washington,” Elliott said.

“Two and a half days by train. I should have been back two weeks ago. I can’t afford any more delays.”

“Give me a couple of hours. Let me talk to my wife—”

The woman Braham had seen on the winery’s website when he had gone back and searched for Elliott’s phone number entered the room holding hands with a wee lad dressed like his father in tan pants and a green shirt.

“About what?” she asked.

Both men stood. The toddler ran to Elliott. “Daddy, I took a long nap. I want to ride my pony now.”

Elliott wrapped the boy in his arms with a hug. “Good laddie.” He turned to Braham, smiling. “This is my son, James Cullen MacKlenna Fraser, and my wife, Meredith.”

Smiling, Braham ruffled the wee lad’s mop of brown hair. Then he shook hands with Meredith. She was a striking woman, with Cullen’s black hair and blue eyes. Tall and lithe, she projected a gentle, trustworthy spirit, and he liked her instantly.

“Braham McCabe,” he said.

Meredith eyed him quizzically. “Your name seems familiar.”

A young man came to the door. “Is Cullen ready for his riding lesson?”

“
Kebin
.” The lad’s big brown eyes opened wider with excitement. He wiggled to get down, then ran toward the man, who picked him up and twirled him around. “I ride Little Stormy.”

“Okay, but tell Mommy and Daddy goodbye.”

“Thanks, Kevin,” Elliott said while the boy waved. “We’ll be out in a few minutes to see you ride, Cullen.”

Meredith sat on the footstool in front of Elliott’s chair. “Sit down, please, Mr. McCabe, and tell me how you came to be here.”

Elliott rubbed her shoulders. “By way of the sapphire brooch.”

Meredith clapped. “
Really?
It brought you here? To MacKlenna Farm?”

“No, to Richmond, Virginia.”

“You’re Kit’s cousin, right?” She glanced around the room. “Where’s the woman?”

“Who said anything about a woman?” Elliott asked.

“Of course there’s a woman. The legacy of the three brooches says the magic in the stones unites soul mates. If Braham hasn’t met her
yet
, he will.”

“I can tell you emphatically the doctor who rescued me and brought me to this time is not my soul mate.” Braham had intentionally ignored all thoughts concerning the brooches’ legacy. It would cloud his judgment at a time when hard decisions needed to be made.

“He hasn’t mentioned a woman, Mer,” Elliott said.

Meredith smiled. “Only because you haven’t asked. But I’m asking. There is a woman, isn’t there? Who is she?”

Braham nodded, the muscle jumping in the side of his jaw. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’re Cullen Montgomery’s great-great-something granddaughter.”

“Six, I think.” She merely smiled at him, showing dimples and a crease in her forehead which reminded Braham even more of his friend. “The surgeon who rescued you,” Meredith continued, “must be
the woman
. What does she look like?”

“She has wild, curly blonde hair and deep blue eyes and she wears god-awful clothes she calls scrubs. She’s small and
very
opinionated.

“Ah ha,” Meredith said. “You’re already in love with her?”

Braham’s jaw dropped. “
No.
I barely know her. And unlike your sire, I didn’t take advantage of Charlotte the way Cullen took advantage of Kit.”

Meredith belted out a laugh. Then she grew solemn. “If you’re Kit’s cousin, it means you’re mine, too.”

Braham reached for her hand, took it between his own, and held it lightly. “Will you help me get home?”

She maintained eye contact while placing her other hand on top of his and patting it gently. Then she withdrew both of her hands. “I came late to this conversation. I don’t know how you got here or how we can help you go back.”

“He wants to borrow the ruby brooch,” Elliott said.

“I vote you give it to him,” she said. “He can leave it with Sean MacKlenna.”

“Which is what I suggested, but Doctor Fraser wants to think about it.”

Meredith got to her feet, leaned over Elliott’s chair, and kissed him. “If Elliott wants to think about it, he has a good reason. I need to go watch Cullen’s riding lesson. I’ll let you men talk, and I’ll catch up on the conversation during cocktails.”

She left the room, closing the door behind her.

Braham finished his drink and took the empty glass to the bar. “Talking to her is like having a conversation with Cullen. They are very much alike.”

Elliott stood. “Come on. Let me show you around the farm, and you can tell me about Kit. How many children does she have now?”

“She was carrying her fourth when I left for the war. Said it was her last.”

“There’s a portrait of her hanging at Meredith’s winery. She was probably in her eighties when it was painted. Still beautiful.”

“She’s never stopped missing you. When I tell her about meeting you, she’ll want to hear everything about you 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. You remember me, don’t you?” 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 you 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 your aide and David your 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.”