by Mark J Rose
“Your parents would never get divorced,” Matt replied. He was sorry that he’d brought any of this up.
“Would it not be better if the children stayed in their home and the parents came to visit?” Jeb asked.
That’s a thought. “I’m done talking about divorce,” Matt said. “It’ll never happen to you anyway, so don’t worry.”
“Will you ever do this divorce, Mr. Miller?” Jeb asked.
“Never,” Matt said with all conviction. He had made this promise to himself long ago, and it was something he intended to talk to Kylie about when he returned to his own time.
“Capital,” Jeb declared.
Grace returned and looked at them suspiciously. “Why is everyone so quiet?”
“Mr. Miller told us about divorce,” Jonathan said. Matt was tempted to shush him, but he reconsidered, thinking that it would only make it worse.
“Divorce?” she asked, looking at Matt. “It’s inappropriate to speak of divorce in front of young men.” She seemed sincerely concerned.
“I didn’t want to,” Matt said. “They had a lot of questions.”
“Mr. Miller said he’d never get a divorce even though they do it sometimes in his family,” Jonathan said.
“Jonathan, I told you that Mr. Miller isn’t a man I’d be interested in marrying,” Grace said. Her face was turning pink, either with anger or embarrassment. “Therefore, I have no trepidation concerning Mr. Miller’s attitudes towards marriage—or divorce.”
“I was just saying it if you were interested,” Jonathan said, now looking at Matt. “He works hard and doesn’t look at all like a gopher.”
“Thanks, Jonathan,” Matt said. “Speaking about work, there’s a horse to cure.”
“I’m all for that,” Jeb said. All the back and forth seemed to be wearing on the teen.
“I have the linens,” Grace offered, as relieved as anyone to move from the present topic.
Matt led the group out to Joshua, who had now been out in the sun for a large part of the day. This wasn’t enough time to see an effect on the infection, but Matt was happy to observe that the sun had dried some of the sores. Matt grabbed the horse’s halter and motioned to Jeb. “Keep him still while we spread the ointment on his back.”
“Jonathan,” Matt called. “Can you hold the bowl while Grace and I spread it on his back?”
“Sure,” Jonathan replied. He walked over holding the bowl in both hands, propping it against his belt.
They began covering the sores with the goldthread mixture. After each had finished their respective side, they reached together to apply ointment to the top of the horse’s back. Matt’s hands regularly brushed up against Grace’s. To him, it was like an electric shock every time their hands would touch, but Grace didn’t seem to notice. It occurred so often that Matt wondered if it might not be an accident.
“I’m done,” Grace finally said. She looked at Matt with her ice-blue eyes.
“Me too,” Matt said. He had finished much earlier but became too caught up in the motion of her hands to stop spreading. I feel like a lovesick teenager.
“I pray this works,” Grace said, still looking directly into his eyes.
Matt grabbed a horse-sized piece of linen, wiped his hands off on it, and put it over Joshua’s back. He took the twine and tied the underside of the sheet around the horse’s belly as if he was securing a saddle. “That should do it,” he said, stepping back to view his handiwork. He looked down at his fingers. “I’d feel better if we could go wash our hands with soap and water.” He looked at Grace. “Any soap in the barn?”
She nodded and replied, “Join me at the well.”
Matt headed to the well after grabbing the water basins and was able to fill them with water by the time she arrived. She set a large block of soap down next to him. “I’ve done this before as part of my job,” Matt said. “Watch.”
“I know how to wash my hands,” she said.
“Humor me so you don’t get some strange hand infection.”
“I’ll do my best,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Matt ignored her. He took the soap and used the first basin to wash his hands once and then again like a surgeon, and then instructed Grace to pour water over his hands from the second basin to rinse off the suds. He dried his hands on a towel he had placed next to the basins. “Now it’s your turn,” he said, handing her the soap. She reached into the basin, wet her hands and started washing. She finished up quickly and motioned to Matt for the rinse water.
“That’s not good enough,” Matt proclaimed.
“My skin will crack if I wash my hands too roughly,” she replied.
Matt picked up the soap. “Give me your hands,” he said. He had visions of her skin becoming infected and her family fretting over the damage he had done to their daughter. She put her hands over the basin and Matt reached out to hold them in his while he used the bar to coat them with a fresh lather. He dropped the soap so he could use his fingers to make sure to scrub her hands completely. “There’s ointment between your fingers,” he said as he worked the soap around her fingertips and under her nails. “This needs to be off your hands, even under your nails—”
He was so caught up in the task that he was nearly finished before he looked up at Grace’s face and realized that he had both her hands in his and she was staring directly into his eyes. Matt stopped midsentence and then it seemed like everything stopped; no speaking, no scrubbing, and no breathing. It was as if time had shut down; his world became completely quiet as he held her hands, motionless.
Matt had no idea how long it took Grace to look down and slide her hands slowly away. “They’re done now, Mr. Miller,” she said quietly. They finished washing in silence. When her hands were dry, she stood up, turned, and walked away without a word.
**********
Scout was waiting for Matt when he returned to the hay barn. “What’s up, Cujo?”
Scout looked at him and tilted his head. The dog followed him into the barn while Matt checked his watch and glanced at the charge left on his phone. He pulled the kinetic charger out of his bag, wound it and connected the wire.
“I have time for an ale,” Matt said to Scout. “Let’s see what’s going on.” He motioned to the dog to follow as he walked out the door. Scout followed him all the way to the common, then peeled off and took his regular spot on the porch of David and Faith’s house.
“I was sure we lost you to the bed tonight,” David declared when he saw Matt.
“Almost,” Matt replied. “I thought I should check to see what’s on for tomorrow.”
“You’ll stack again,” he said. “Return midmorning. We’ve another day with the hay.”
Besides David, there were no other Taylors in sight. Matt suspected that they had finished their prayers while he was working with Joshua. After finishing his drink, he walked alone back to his hay barn. He glanced at his watch and saw that he still had time, thought twice, grabbed the basins and headed out to the well. He was starting to smell and now seemed like as good a time as any to wash. When he returned with fresh water, the dog had already let himself in and was lying on the foot of his bed.
“Hello, dog,” he said.
“Awwarrrr.” The dog let out a big yawn, opening his mouth wide.
Matt laughed. “That was about the most ridiculous sound I have ever heard from an animal.” Scout laid his head on the bed and watched while Matt rambled on about the day’s events as he washed, toweled himself off, and then dressed. He’d finished dressing by the time his phone notified him of his text message.
“Are you there?” it read.
Matt typed, “Any luck bringing me home?”
“We can get you back the same way you came.”
“I was unconscious for two days and have bad headaches.”
“Expect similar effects on return.”
Matt typed, “Any way to test?”
“Don’t think. One shot. Contact you in 24 hours.”
&
nbsp; “Test it first?”
“Sorry, working for six months. Best we can do.”
Matt typed, “Not stepping into a wormhole without knowing it’s safe.” He didn’t get a reply. He looked over at Scout. “Best they can do?”
18
Mad Money
Jonathan arrived in the morning as Matt was washing his face. “Good day, Mr. Miller,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”
“Very well,” Matt said. “I went to bed early last night.”
“Is it scary in the barn at night?” the boy asked.
“Nah. Scout’s my protection.”
“Scout likes you,” Jonathan said. “He doesn’t go near any of the other men. It’s only our family and you.”
“I’m still afraid to pet him,” Matt replied.
“He’d not bite. He likes you more than he likes Father. Father is very strict.” He said “strict” with a particular emphasis.
“You have an incredible father,” Matt said.
“He doesn’t smile anymore.”
“His daughter died,” Matt said. “Give him a break.”
“He won’t let Grace ride anymore,” Jonathan said. “She used to take me for rides with Kathryn.”
“Grace rode a lot?”
“Until Kathryn got thrown,” Jonathan explained. “Now she’s not allowed because she’ll fall. She’s not allowed to wear breeches, either. I’m not supposed to talk about that.”
“Can’t talk about breeches?”
“Kathryn wore them, too,” the boy said. “I don’t see the bother. They didn’t look like fellows, not one bit.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Matt replied. “Where I come from, ladies wear breeches all the time. I don’t see what the bother is either.” He could imagine Grace walking around in men’s breeches, causing a scandal in 1762. It wasn’t too hard to imagine that the pants didn’t make her look like a fellow. The vision of Grace in his mind caused a stirring; he longed to see her again.
“I suppose you want to brush your teeth,” Matt said, changing the subject.
“If it’s fine.”
“It’s fine,” Matt replied. “Where’s Jeb?”
“I asked him to come, but he said he didn’t want to this morning. He’s waiting for Sunday.”
“Sunday?” Matt asked.
“When he sees Sara Greene at church,” Jonathan said.
“I’m glad to help.”
“Do you want help with Grace?”
Matt looked at Jonathan out of the corner of his eye. “I’d rather talk about something else.”
The boy took the cue, thought for a moment, and asked, “Will the rain wash the medicine from Joshua’s back?”
“Decent question,” Matt replied. “The horses usually spend their time in the rain, right?”
“Unless it’s overlong and the pasture is muddy, or if there’s lightning,” Jonathan said. “Father brings them in if he thinks they’ll get muddy.”
“Let’s walk over there before breakfast and get that linen off his back,” Matt said. “I want as much sun as possible on it before it rains.” Then he added, “If it rains.”
“Uncle says it will rain after dark tonight,” the boy said. “He’s never wrong about rain, but we like to joke with him when he picks the wrong day.” The boy looked up at the sky. “The sky is still bright, so the light can heal Joshua.”
“Let’s get over there,” Matt said as he was putting his pack together.
“I want to brush my teeth,” the boy said.
“Oops,” Matt said. “I forgot, but not on purpose.” Matt handed Jonathan the toothbrush and waited patiently for him to complete the task. Once the boy was done, Matt gathered up his shaving kit, put it into his pack, and walked back into the barn to tuck it into one of the bins. They walked together to Joshua’s corral. When they rounded the corner, they saw that Grace was already there.
“I’m taking the linen off so the sun can get in,” she said.
“We came to do that,” Matt said. “Make sure you wash your hands.”
“With soap,” she said. “Unless you endeavor to instruct me again.”
“You’ve got it,” Matt said. He made a conscious effort not to linger, and walked away.
The boy talked the entire distance to the common but split off once he saw breakfast. “Good day, Mr. Miller,” he said as he trotted away.
“Looks like you have a fellow,” Will said, watching the boy leave.
“He comes by to give me advice,” Matt said. “Life on the farm and such.”
“He asks how you did in the fields,” Will said. “He wants you to do well.”
“Not sure why,” Matt said, perplexed.
“He found you,” Will replied.
“Found me?”
“Under the bridge,” Will explained. “Jonathan saw you first. If you cure that horse, he’ll be taking full credit.”
“I’ll try not to let him down,” Matt replied. This new information explained a lot.
“Is your medicine working?” Will asked.
“Grace is pulling the linen off now,” Matt replied. “I’d be surprised if we see anything this early.”
“We can pray,” Will said. He turned to the gathering group of men. “I’ll probably see you this afternoon. Tobacco is mostly done.”
“What was the final assessment of the crop?” Matt asked. “Was it worth the time?”
“It’s in God’s hands,” Will said. “We’ll not learn until we sell.”
“When’s that?”
“’Twill take some time to dry. It can’t transpire quickly enough for Father, though. He already has his eye on a horse at the Browne farm.”
“Expensive horse?”
“Father and Uncle have schemed for months to justify the cost.”
“The tobacco crop, it’s your mad money,” Matt proclaimed.
“Mad money?”
“In Philadelphia, we sometimes call money that you would not ordinarily have ‘mad money,’” Matt explained. “It’s the extra money that you don’t require for your regular expenses.” He looked around, motioned with his arms at the surrounding farm, and then went on. “You can use it on things you wouldn’t normally buy. You know, to reward yourself for extra work or being smart.”
“Like a horse that most consider too costly,” Will offered, smiling.
“Exactly,” Matt exclaimed. “Mad money!”
“Mad money,” Will repeated as he nodded in agreement.
19
Corn
Wagons came and went the whole morning and Matt lost track of how many they filled with corn. The men on his crew were anxious to finish and get back to town for their three-day weekend, so most worked in relative silence. Compressing five days into four had sounded like a good idea, but the tedious work had taken its toll and they were all growing weary.
Matt spent his fourth day in the field alongside a young man named Francis McKean. Matt had introduced himself to Francis in the morning and was hoping to make another friend, but found within the first hour that Francis wasn’t interested in conversation. After getting about ten separate yes and no answers, Matt gave up and resigned himself to pulling corn from stalks and whistling all the Beatles songs he could remember.
David, Mary, and Jeb arrived with the meal wagon around noon and they stopped for lunch. It was darker today now that clouds filled the sky. David said, “I believe you men will be going home by early afternoon. Let’s shorten the break and get as much corn in wagons as we are able before the storm.” Matt noted that the forecast had turned from rain to storm. He gazed up at the clouds and inhaled the smell that was now heavy in the air. David looked at Matt and said, “I’ll take you back. The pavilion’s full. The rest goes into the barn. Anything that gets wet stays outside.” He looked to the clouds to emphasize his point. He paused for a moment and smiled. “Grace said to tell you she thinks that cure of yours is working.”
When they arrived, hay was already in front of th
e barn, so Matt was unable to go over and see the horse. As he was stacking, he saw Scout meander up to the barn. The dog sat watching as Matt moved the hay from one pile to another. “Have you checked Joshua today?” Matt asked the dog. At the sound of the horse’s name, Scout turned his head to the horse barn. “I heard he might be looking better.”
“I don’t know if the dog has seen him, but I have,” Grace said, walking around the corner. Matt was mildly embarrassed that she overheard him having a conversation with the dog, but he still gave her his best “I’m proud I talk with animals” look.
“Have the sores started to heal?” Matt asked.
“The weeping has stopped, and the swelling is down,” she said. “Something is happening.” She then added, “He may be getting better on his own.”
Matt knew she was trying to antagonize him, but he wasn’t biting. “Well,” he said, “if that’s true, you can probably throw the rest of that medicine away.” He smiled calmly at her and reached down to pick up another hay bale.
“There’s still the slightest chance he may be getting better from our ointment,” she replied. She raised her hand and put her beautiful thumb and forefinger together to illustrate a very tiny open space. Matt could only shake his head and laugh. “Slightest chance,” she repeated, smiling in such a way that he wasn’t sure what she believed.
“Did you come to help me stack?” Matt asked.
“Men’s work,” she replied. “I’ll leave you and your fellow here to finish.” Scout’s eyes followed her all the way to the house.
“Can you believe her?” Matt said to the dog.
“Believe what?” said a voice from the other side of the barn. David rounded the corner and looked at Matt expectedly. “What was that?”
Matt had to explain himself a second time. “I was talking to the dog.”
David looked in wonder at Scout. “It’s odd to see that animal linger about. Bating the time he spends with Thunder, we usually don’t see him.”
“Thunder’s that large horse he plays with in the pasture?”
“They grew up together,” David replied. “They carry on endlessly if left to their own wits. It’s like watching children play. Ofttimes that dog will stand outside Thunder’s stall and torment him to no end.”
