The Sapphire Brooch (The Celtic Brooch Trilogy Book 2) (22 page)

Braham hugged her. Meredith had inherited the best of Cullen and the best of Kit.

22

MacKlenna Farm, Lexington, Kentucky, Present Day

B
raham was jolted
awake in a not-too-soft, not-too-hard bed. His feet didn’t even hang off the end. The only other bed he’d ever slept in that fit him perfectly, other than his own, had been at the Mallory Plantation. He bolted upright, and groaned when his sudden move pulled on the healing incision. More carefully, he leaned over and switched on the bedside lamp. According to the clock, he had slept for almost five hours. Driving, he had discovered, was stressful. His arms were still sore from gripping the steering wheel.

He looked around the room, since he hadn’t paid much attention to the furnishings earlier. He wasn’t an art aficionado, but he could identify the work of a handful of artists. Kit MacKlenna Montgomery was one of them. On the wall opposite the bed were paintings of Chimney Rock, South Pass and the Blue Mountains. They were painted from sketches she had made during their trip west in 1852.

He eased to his feet and headed toward the bathroom. A Union Cavalry jacket hung on the back of the door. He ran his hand over the wool and checked the hand-stitched seams where the lining and wool met. Excellent quality and workmanship.

Stacked on a chair nearby were trousers, a cotton muslin shirt, and a slouch hat. A pair of spit-shined cavalry boots sat on the floor.

How could anyone have entered his room without making noise? He’d already noticed the floorboards creaked, and he was a light sleeper with excellent hearing. Either he’d been knocked out or someone with unusual stealth had come in and left the clothes. He rubbed his head. There weren’t any bumps.

David McBain.

Braham had a new appreciation of the soldier’s abilities.

On the desk under the window, he found a belt and buckle and leather-end suspenders, every item made with the highest grade leather. An old, moth-eaten uniform would have been fine with him, but as he had discovered, Elliott Fraser expected the highest quality in his animals, the people who worked for him, and goods and services he purchased. He wouldn’t have purchased a moth-eaten anything.

Braham remained in the hot shower for a long time, letting his mind drift to Charlotte. If she knew there was another brooch, she’d call Elliott immediately to explain the real reason she wouldn’t take Braham back to his time. Would Elliott still loan him the brooch if he knew Braham intended to stop Lincoln’s assassination? Probably not. But David would understand why Braham had to stop an assassin’s bullet.

He took his time dressing. Each article of clothing added another tug on his heart and mind, pulling him back into his century. He stood in front of the mirror, gazing at his reflection. At some point in the past four years he had become a soldier in his appearance, thinking, and behavior. He was no longer a lawyer, friend, cousin, nephew, uncle. He was a major in the United States Cavalry, on assignment to the President. He picked up his hat and gauntlets and mentally saluted his commander-in-chief.

Braham found Meredith and Elliott in the office, sitting in front of a blazing fire, talking quietly. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. “Sorry. I didn’t plan to sleep so long.”

“Wow,” Meredith said, looking him over. She came close, fiddled with the jacket, and patted the shoulder boards. “I don’t think we need the tailor. Do you, Elliott?”

“It’s a perfect fit. David has a good eye.”

“Do you have your money?” Meredith asked.

Braham tapped his chest. “Yes.”

David entered the room behind him. “Here’s the rest of it. A saber and Colt revolvers.”

Braham tested the weight of the revolvers. “Did you fire them?”

David laughed. “Aye. I found the sights on the revolvers a wee bit crude, at least compared to today’s standards. Be careful.” He slapped Braham on the shoulder. “If ye’ come back, I’ll take ye’ out and let ye’ shoot with some real weapons.”

Braham threw him a crooked grin as he strapped on the holster and saber. “You make it tempting, but I won’t be back.”

Elliott picked up the rosewood box from the desk, opened it, and removed the ruby brooch.

“The first time I saw this, it was pinned to Kit’s dress. She was only a baby. We had no idea where she came from. We thought someone had abandoned her. I hope it brings you the happiness it has brought her.” He handed it over. “Good luck, Major.”

Braham turned the brooch over and over in his shaking hand. “I don’t know how it works. Kit never told me.”

“I’ve never seen it open, but I know how it works.” Elliott showed him the clasp. “Press right there, and the stone will pop open to reveal the Gaelic. Once you speak the words, ye’ll go through a fog. When the fog lifts, ye’ll be someplace else. Hopefully right here, but in another time. Don’t touch anything here. Whatever you’re touching when you go into the fog seems to make the trip, too. Good luck, lad.”

Elliott, Meredith, and David moved to the other side of the room. Elliott wrapped his arms around his wife. David snapped to attention and saluted. Braham saluted him in return. Blowing out a breath, he opened the brooch, drew his revolver, then spoke the words engraved on the stone, “
Chan ann le tìm no àite a bhios sinn a’ tomhais an gaol ach’s ann le neart anama.”

23

Mallory Plantation, Richmond, Virginia, Present Day

C
harlotte hadn’t called
Braham all day, and neither had Jack. They had decided to give him time alone to think. In hindsight, it had been a mistake. She had worried all day. After seeing her last patient, she switched on-call schedules with a colleague and rushed out to the plantation. When she got there, the house was dark and her car was gone. Uneasiness spread over her and the hairs on her neck stood up.

Braham could be asleep, and the car could be in the garage…or it could be wrapped around a tree, floating in the river…

Stop it.

The police would have called if her car had been in an accident. He’s not hurt, he’s only…what? Sitting in the dark?

She grabbed the house remote from the glove box and pushed a button to turn on every light in the house. Braham might want to sit in the dark, but she wasn’t going inside without the lights on. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, but she was afraid of bumping into a burglar.

She entered, but left the front door open. “Braham.
Braham
.”

There wasn’t a sound. No radio. No TV. No YouTube videos playing on the iPad. She knocked on his bedroom door. The bed was empty, made without a wrinkle or a ripple. It was so tightly made, in fact, a quarter would bounce off.

Check the kitchen.

She rushed to the kitchen, calling him. Still no answer. There were no dirty dishes in the sink. No crumbs on the counter. The newspaper was neatly folded, as if it had never been opened. The den was empty and so was the library. He wasn’t napping on either of the sofas. She searched Jack’s office for a note. Nothing. She stood at the desk rubbing her forehead, thinking. Where could he have gone? If he’d taken the car, he could have crashed it and be back in the hospital. But why would he have taken the car out onto the road?

She opened the middle desk drawer. The pizza money was gone. Her heart sank to her stomach, then to her knees, and then puddled on the floor.

Scenarios fueled her imagination. None of them good. Did he drive to get pizza? Surely not. Then where was her car? She hadn’t checked the garage. She darted into the mud room and flung open the door, and for a moment was afraid to look. Her hand hovered over the light switch. Finally, she flipped it on and her heart sank.

Empty. No car. No Braham. Nothing. She slammed the door. A chill seeped into her bones. Where could he have gone? Her cell phone rang. She ran back through the house to get it. Jack’s name flashed on the caller ID.

“Hey, have you heard from Braham?” she asked.

“No, which is why I was calling. To see how he’s doing.”

“I’ve searched the house, he’s not here, and neither is the car. The pizza money is also gone.” She tried to keep her rising anxiety under control. It wasn’t working. “He could be in a ditch dying.”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad,” Jack said. “It’s easy enough to find him. Hold on and let me turn on my Mac. Both of our cars have tracking devices.”

“
What
? Why?”

“Call me paranoid. But the thought of a stalker harassing either one of us was not a pleasant one. I decided to take precautions.”

“Where could he have gone? If he went out driving, he would have left the lights on in the house. But it was dark when I came in.” She closed the front door and paced. “What’s taking you so long?”

“Relax. Go pour a drink. Just another minute or two.”

Charlotte went back to the library, poured a whiskey, and sipped. She pulled the rubber band out of her hair and gave her scalp a brisk finger massage. “I don’t even see the cat.”

“The cat’s probably in the barn, and Braham’s in Lexington.”

“
He’s where?
”

Nothing but her own strong will was holding her together at the moment. “He’s lost his frigging mind. He drove a hundred and thirty-something miles. Are you kidding?”

“Lexington, Kentucky, sis. Not Virginia. He drove
five hundred miles
.”

“He’s never driven a car before and he drove to Kentucky? Who is this guy? Superman?”

Jack let out a rumble of a laugh. “He’s got balls. I’ll give him that.”

She wasn’t much of a judge when it came to male genitalia, but yep, the guy definitely had balls. “Why’d he go to Lexington?”

“Well…he’s at MacKlenna Farm. I’ll let you hazard a guess.”

She shook her head, shoving her annoyingly curly, now-disheveled hair off her face. “If he wanted to go to the farm, why didn’t he ask one of us to take him? We would have been happy to go ourselves. Are you going to call the Fraser guy?”

“No. I don’t want to show our hand. Braham doesn’t know we know where he is. I’d like to keep him in the dark until I show up at the farm tomorrow.”

“Until
we
show up. I’m going, too. Do you think this is about returning to his time? If so, running away won’t get him home.”

“Only one way to find out. I’m going to book a flight out of Atlanta to Lexington, leaving first thing in the morning. Can you get away?”

“I’ll have to make some phone calls, but I can probably work it out. I don’t know how soon I can get a flight leaving Richmond, though.”

“Call Richmond Private Jet Charter and schedule a flight. We’ll need return transportation anyway. I’ll text you the number.”

“What about my car?”

“We’ll pay someone to drive it back. See how quickly the charter company can get you out in the morning and then call me back.”

She dialed the number in Jack’s text and was told it would cost a premium for an early-morning flight. She decided to let Jack negotiate a reduced rate later and booked the flight.

He called her before she could call him back. “What’d you find out?”

She drew circles and squares around the notes she’d made on a yellow legal pad. “They can get me to Lexington by seven in the morning. What about you?”

“Seven-thirty. I’ll reserve a rental car. Get some sleep and try not to worry. We know he’s safe.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Yep. Night, sis, and remember—”

She drew a huge circle around Braham’s name, which she’d written in big bubble letters. “I know. Worrying doesn’t take away tomorrow’s sorrows, it only steals today’s strength. And at this point, I don’t have much to spare. Goodnight.”

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