The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

“Let me help ye, lass,” he said to Ensley.

“I’ve never ridden with all these clothes before.”

“Pull up your skirts and go,” Kit said.

And that’s what Ensley did.

When they reached the mansion, Paul was pacing on the veranda.

“Ride over to the cabin and tell Elliott that Donald’s time has come.” Cullen swung down and handed his reins to Paul. “Take one of these horses with ye and don’t accept no from him.”

“Yes, sir,” Paul said, mounting Cullen’s horse.

When Kit, Cullen, and Ensley reached the foyer, Austin was there. “Kit, your uncle Sean says your dad wants you to sing.”

A man carrying a violin entered the foyer from the back hallway. “Donald asked if ye would sing ‘Simple Gifts.’”

“Of course,” Kit said. “I haven’t sung it in years, but I’ll do my best.” Then she pointed to Ensley. “Uncle Sean, this is Ensley, another traveler.”

“I’ve heard all about ye, lass. I’m looking forward to hearing yer opinion of Mr. Roosevelt.”

“Yes, sir. He’s a remarkable man,” Ensley said.

“I met him briefly at the 1884 Republican National Convention in Chicago.”

“I wonder why he didn’t mention meeting you when JC told TR he was coming here?”

“Mr. Roosevelt wouldn’t remember me. I was with a group of local Republicans, and there was only a general introduction. But I did hear his speech supporting John Lynch. His decision to back James Blaine against the wishes of other Independent Republicans did great damage to his immediate career.”

“I think he’ll manage just fine.” Then she whispered, “If you want me to tell you what happens, let me know.”

Sean grinned. “I think I can manage to know his future. We’ll talk later.”

“My favorite quote of his is, ‘Believe you can, and you’re halfway there.’”

“I haven’t heard that sentiment before.”

Ensley clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh! Maybe TR hasn’t said it yet.”

Sean laughed. “That must be a constant problem for ye time travelers.”

“I’m new at this, but I can see how it would be.”

He hooked his hand in the bend of her elbow and escorted her toward the stairs. “I look forward to a longer conversation.”

When they entered Donald’s sunny bedroom, Ensley was surprised to see a stoic Meredith with glistening eyes sitting near the open window.

A light breeze softened the scene with the heady fragrance of lilacs. But the farther Ensley moved into the room, the distinctive acetone odor of a dying person overpowered the sweet-scented flowers. The smell triggered memories, but she set them aside for now. This moment wasn’t about her grief, and the intrusion of her memories seemed disrespectful. Her focus—in fact, everyone’s—should be on the dying man and the people who loved him.

Several pillows propped Mr. McCabe into a semi-reclining position while Emily leaned over him, pressing the drum of a stethoscope on his chest. His desperate gasps for breath signaled the end was near.

“Daddy, I’m here now.” The mattress dipped when Kit sat on the edge of the bed and threaded her fingers with his.

“My precious Kitherina. Sing for your da.” Her father managed to smile between gasps.

Kit nodded to Uncle Sean. He lifted his violin, tucked it under his chin, and, after tilting the bow’s angle, began to play. Kit blinked away tears and started singing in a beautiful contralto voice.

“’Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free, / ’Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be, / And when we find ourselves in the place just right, / ’Twill be in the valley of love and delight. / When true simplicity is gain’d, / To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d, / To turn, turn will be our delight, / Till by turning, turning we come round right.”

When she finished, she kissed her father’s cheek, then smiled up at her husband, and Cullen mouthed, “I love ye.”

Ensley couldn’t imagine singing to her parents as they died, but she wished she’d had the chance. Everything in the room seemed to unfold in slow motion, and she couldn’t stop what was about to happen. No one could.

Tears streaked down Kit’s face, and Cullen handed her his handkerchief. It reminded Ensley of the times JC gave her one with his initials—JCF—embroidered in one corner.

Sean lowered the violin. “Donald has requested the men sing ‘Auld Lang Syne.’ Please gather close so he can see ye.”

The clouds drifted in front of the sun, leaving the room draped in shadows.

Sean, Cullen, Braham, and Austin stood at the end of the bed.

“Austin, why don’t ye play the guitar? There’s one by the bed. Kit’s been playing it for her father,” Cullen said.

“Sure.” Austin picked up the instrument and strummed a few chords, then nodded to Sean.

Sean lifted the violin again but was interrupted when three couples entered the room with Elliott trailing behind them. Kit signaled to the women, all younger versions of her, to join her at the bedside. The men gathered with the others.

Elliott’s gaze went directly to the corner where Meredith sat, but instead of going to her, he went to stand next to Sean. Her eyes glinted at him, but other than that, Meredith didn’t acknowledge his presence.

Even now, two people who were deeply involved in Kit’s life couldn’t manage to put their differences aside for her emotional well-being, and their behavior damaged Ensley’s opinion of them.

The men lifted their voices…

“For auld lang syne, my jo, for auld lang syne, / We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne. / And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp! / And surely I’ll be mine! / And we’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet, / For auld lang syne.”

The voices blended beautifully with the two instruments, and Ensley couldn’t take her eyes off Austin. He played the guitar with the same intense focus he had when he dunked the pillow, played chess, and shot the bear, and he stirred her heart.

In the midst of death, love is born.

No. It was born somewhere in the pages of Austin’s manuscript. She had identified with him when he recounted lying in the hospital bed. Every time he closed his