Letters in Time by Reiss Susan (i love reading books .txt) 📕

fluttering in the breeze. It must have been growing on that spot for more than 150 years if it was their meeting place in the 1860s. A smile crept over my lips as I thought about Emma and Daniel spending time under that tree, a special place for two childhood friends who grew to be grownup lovers. Had they carved their initials in its bark? I promised myself that when I could walk without any assistance, I would look for myself.

With a start, I realized I hadn't copied Daniel's latest letter. I didn't want it to fade away before I captured his words. Quickly, I took a picture with my phone then typed the words into Daniel's computer file.

Chapter Twenty

“Flower, Bird, Wind, Moon.”

—Japanese Proverb, meaning Experience the beauties of nature and learn about yourself.

True to his word, TJ pulled up in front of the Cottage at nine o’clock.  I settled into the passenger seat, eager for our expedition to the Waterwood cemetery. I wasn’t sure how I would feel seeing a stone marker with Daniel’s name on it, but it was something I needed to do. We drove down the long gravel driveway from the Cottage to the main road and turned left.

Soon, we made another left onto a small gravel road crowded by towering stalks of corn, their green leaves drying golden brown in the sun. They blocked the view of everything around us except the sky. It felt like we were driving down Alice’s rabbit hole.

TJ followed the curving road until we reached the far end of the fields when he turned onto a large, mowed area of grass and parked in the shade of a gnarled, old tree.

A tall red brick wall with bright white mortar enclosed the gathering of stones marking the graves of people associated with Waterwood. An intricate iron gate blocked the entrance. TJ unlocked it and it swung open easily on its hinges. As we walked inside, it might’ve been my imagination, but it felt uniquely quiet in this place.

“This cemetery has been here since the beginning of Waterwood,” TJ said in a hushed voice. He must have felt the peace and reverence as I did. “The plantation dates back to the time before the Revolutionary War.”

He pointed to a grave marker in the shape of an obelisk that must have been fifteen feet tall. Its white marble was blinding in the sunshine. “And that’s where they buried the man who started Waterwood. He was a crusty old captain who made his fortune on the high seas. The king gave him this land for services rendered. Of course, the original land-grant was for many more acres than we have today. Over the centuries, the land has been subdivided for the many sons and daughters of the family.  And whenever they needed money, they sold off some acres. It wasn’t unusual, but I wish that they had been able to hold it all together.”

TJ and I meandered between the markers. They were all in good condition, a sign of TJ’s tender care.  The earliest stones were about four feet in height, except for the captain’s grand marker, of course. There were many, too many, small white stones marking the graves of infants and young children. It seemed that around the early 1800s, the convention for grave markers shifted to large stone slabs. I eyed the names chiseled there, hoping to find Daniel’s name quickly.

“What are you looking for?” asked TJ.  “Someone in particular?”

I was hoping to find the grave without concocting an excuse for TJ. I had to think fast. “I’m amazed to see the names of some people I’ve been reading about.”

He nodded. I was relieved that he accepted my explanation. He walked slowly between the graves, reading off the names.

“Let’s see, there’s John Dorset and Elizabeth Dorset.” He stopped by one marker and looked down. “And here’s…” He stopped then quickly turned to another collection of markers. “Over here—”

“Wait, who is buried there?” I maneuvered around so I could see the name for myself and when I read it, I froze. It read, Emma. Just Emma. It was unsettling to see my name carved on a gravestone, especially after barely cheating death only months earlier. No wonder TJ tried to distract me.  I too wanted to look away, but I forced myself to read the rest of the words marking her grave. Below her name were the words Wife of Joshua. I checked the dates. They were in the right period. Was this Daniel’s Emma? The part of me where I’d buried my romantic notions long ago fluttered awake. I didn’t want to know that she had married someone named Joshua.

Was it the same Joshua who was supposed to deliver Daniel’s message? Was he the reason Emma didn’t meet Daniel at the Lone Oak the night he left Waterwood with her father? Did Joshua fail Daniel so he could win Emma’s hand in marriage? I swayed with the thought.

TJ rushed over and gripped my arm to steady me. “Are you okay?” His face filled with concern. “We’d better go. This is too much.”

I took a deep breath and stood straighter. I had to maintain my newly won independence. “No, no, I’m all right. I think it was the surprise of seeing my name like that. I’m okay now.”

“Are you sure?” I nodded and he too looked at the gravestone. “Oh, you were looking at her marker. Emma of Waterwood. She seems to have a strange effect on people.”

“What do you mean?” I wanted to know.

“Some people say that she is restless. Some have reported that they’ve seen her walking along the shore near your property line.” Quickly, he added, “But I