by Mark J Rose
“I pledge this,” Matt replied.
“And you’ll not gripe when they wear breeches to ride their horses?”
“As long as they don’t look like boys,” Matt said, joking.
“Our daughters will resemble me,” she said. “I don’t look at all like a boy.” She kicked Silver Star and trotted off ahead. Matt followed her back, staying close enough to watch her on the horse as her body swayed from side to side. He wanted her then, like nothing he had ever known.
They went their separate ways as they entered the gate. Matt knew Grace had as much to think about as he. He guided Thunder to the corral, dismounted, and pulled the saddle off to take it into the barn. Jonathan appeared from nowhere, saying, “Good afternoon, Mr. Miller.”
“What’s up?” Matt said. He had grown used to the boy appearing out of nowhere.
The boy looked up at the sky. “The clouds, I should think,” he replied.
“That’s funny,” Matt said. “‘What’s up?’ is like asking someone what they’re doing.”
“Father sent me to tell you that dinner would be in half an hour if you must wash up,” Jonathan replied.
“I’ll be over in half an hour,” Matt said. Matt expected the boy to leave, but he sat down instead. “Now what’s up?”
“You glad harvest is over?” Jonathan asked.
“Mostly,” Matt said. “It was hard work.”
“You leaving soon?”
“I can’t live in this barn my whole life.”
“Too itchy with all the hay?” Jonathan gave him a giant smile.
“You know why.”
“Your trade is in Philadelphia.”
“No matter how much I want to stay,” Matt replied.
“How will you marry Grace if you’re in Philadelphia?”
“What makes you think I’ll marry Grace?”
“She likes you. Everyone likes you.” The boy hopped to his feet. “I must return to set the table.”
“See you later, sport.”
“It’s Jonathan,” he said as he was walking away.
35
Toothpaste, Part IV
It had been nine months since the accident. The four physicists had been operating in relative secrecy since then, having received orders from Colonel Gabriel to keep working on a project that the United States government no longer sanctioned. During the day, they developed weapons-grade laser technology, but at night when the labs grew silent they delved into the unknown interactions between space and time.
They’d had probing calls on a few occasions from the Department of Defense, asking them to explain the strange energy signature detected coming from the laboratory every few months. Its magnitude was nothing like that detected during the original accident, so they explained the surges as an artifact of testing laser weapons. The lasers emitted no such signature, of course. The spy satellites were detecting the controlled particle stream required to open up a quarter-size hole in space-time in order to send a text message to Dr. Matthew Miller, the twenty-six-year-old American scientist who had been accidentally pushed through a wormhole to the year 1762.
Despite their many attempts, the physicists were unable to contact the other three people trapped in the field. They had an almost endless number of theories as to what had happened to them . . . they might be in a different time; their phones might be dead or damaged; they simply might not be interested in being rescued. The other possibility, which none of them wanted to talk about, was that being squeezed through a wormhole as it collapsed behind you could be fatal.
Nine months of experiments had given them a working knowledge of the relationship between wormholes and time travel, but because they had to operate undetected, much of their understanding had been extrapolated from the initial accident and by studying the miniature holes in space-time that they had been able to form in the laboratory during their communications with Dr. Miller. Despite their wealth of knowledge, most were uncomfortable with trying to pull Matthew Miller back to his original time. They debated it endlessly.
Jacob Cromwell’s support waned as the project continued. He didn’t see any value in contributing to the damage they’d already caused. He was the only one of the four physicists who had a child. As he watched his son grow from an infant during that year, he became increasingly reluctant to jeopardize his career. He no longer wanted to work on a secret project that seemed to have very little upside. “What if we leave him in 1762 like he wants?” he asked as they all stood around the reactor.
“We don’t know how he might change the future,” Brian Palmer replied. “We can’t leave him there.” Palmer had become the most enthusiastic of the physicists on the program. From his perspective, there was only upside to their covert research. He saw himself in the history books as the man who probed the relationship between space and time; the man who proved that time travel was possible. The only way they could disclose their discovery was to bring all four people back safely. Any other option would lead to an inquiry into their fate, and eventually the question of whether the accident caused their deaths.
“It might be true what he said about the timeline requiring him to be exactly where he is,” Cromwell reasoned. “Either way, we can’t force him to step into the hole.”
“We have to fix the problem we caused,” Palmer said. “Once we have a signal from his phone, we can open the wormhole right on top of him.”
36
Hay Barn
Matt took his time washing for dinner. He put on clean clothes and walked to the house. When he entered, only Mary and Grace were in the kitchen. “Where is everyone?” he called.
“Letting Joshua back in with the other horses,” Mary said. “You can join them if you desire.”
“If it’s all the same, I’ll sit and rest.”
He poured a cup of cold water and drank it like it was fine wine while he glanced down at Grace, who was helping her mother cook. It was one of those perfect moments, ripe with possibility. The feeling reminded him of graduate school, when he had worked in the laboratory. He’d spend a week planning a chemical reaction, gathering all the chemicals and supplies, setting it up, adding everything into a reaction pot and starting it stirring. He always loved that part of the experiment. He wouldn’t find out until the next day whether the chemicals had reacted as planned or turned to brown sludge sometime in the night. Right now, as he stared at the gorgeous creature down in the kitchen, he knew the sky was the limit.
Will was the first to come into the house. “Good afternoon, Mr. Miller!”
“I still want your help tonight with that thing we talked about,” Matt reminded.
“Jeb wants to learn, too,” Will said quietly. “Jonathan has agreed to be the fourth. It will require some stealth if you desire to surprise my sister.”
“The less she knows, the better,” Matt replied, smiling.
Everyone had come into the dining room to sit as Mary put the food on the table. “We’ve something to do tonight,” Will announced to the table. “We’ll leave supper early.”
“For what?” Grace asked.
“Mr. Miller, Jonathan, Jeb, and I have business in the hay barn,” Will said.
“Business?” Grace said suspiciously.
“It’s a private matter of Mr. Miller’s,” Will said. “I don’t think it’s polite to ask—”
“—a man his business,” Grace finished for him. “I hardly think there’ll be business in the barn.”
“I won’t break his confidence,” Will replied. He looked hard at Jeb and Jonathan.
Grace turned to Jonathan, who shook his head with a resolute face. “A man’s business is his own,” the boy said. He would’ve sounded like a grown man except for his eleven-year-old vocal cords.
Thomas said, “Daughter, you would not expect the men to press you on matters concerning ladies.”
“It feels not a private matter, the way they go on,” Grace replied.
“A man’s business is his own,” Will said, adopting Jonathan’s re
solute expression. Everyone laughed.
“Keep your secret, then,” Grace said. “It’s obvious that some clandestine society has formed among you men.”
Matt remained quiet, distracted by the prospects of dancing with this beautiful woman. He wouldn’t be starting completely from zero; he had taken a semester of ballroom dancing in college to fulfill a physical education requirement. He hadn’t done the dances more than a couple of times since, maybe at one or two fraternity brothers’ weddings, and then sometimes to impress girls in clubs. It usually didn’t take much, since other guys were usually horrible dancers. He faked it mostly, exaggerating the turns he knew and leading women around the floor until they became dizzy enough to pull close. He hoped that some of those skills would come back to him as they practiced.
When the dishes were done, Will motioned to the boys and they followed him to the barn. He had instructed everyone to bring a lamp. The barn was half full of hay, but there was still plenty of space to spread out. “Mr. Miller has much to learn tonight,” Will proclaimed.
“Grace looks like a princess when she dances,” said Jonathan.
“Great,” Matt said sarcastically. “A princess?”
“Quite fortunate, actually,” Will declared. “No one may be watching you at all.” He turned to his little brother. “Jonathan, since Jeb and Matt will be expected to dance at the party, we’ll be their training partners.”
“We’ll be the ladies,” Jonathan said. “You might as well say it.”
“Fine,” Will said. “The ladies.”
“Only if Jeb doesn’t make fun of me,” Jonathan replied.
“He won’t,” Will said. “But in any event, halfway through the instruction, Jeb can act the lady. Is this fine with you, Jeb?”
“Anything to dance with Sara,” Jeb replied.
“There are three dances, mostly,” Will announced. “The reel, the country dance, and the jig. If time remains, maybe we can practice the minuet.”
“I had a class once where we did the minuet,” Matt said. “I can’t remember much.”
“I’d not try it at a party unless you’ve mastered the steps,” Will said. “But if you want to impress your mystery lady, that would be the way.”
“Mr. Miller is trying to impress our sister, the mystery lady,” Jonathan said. “That’s funny.”
“Naught is a secret on this farm,” Will said. “Does anyone not know?”
“Probably the most important person,” Matt said. “That should change in the morning.”
“Compared to your trip tomorrow,” Will said, “doing the minuet in front of the whole party may be easy.”
Matt rolled his eyes.
It took them about an hour to master the reel. Many of the movements reminded Matt of the square dancing he did in college, and didn’t take him long to develop some skills. “The most important thing about this dance is the eyes,” Will declared. “As you move, you stare straight into her eyes like there’s a string between your noses.” He moved his hands, motioning back and forth between their faces. “If you do it right, your partner will melt to sweet honey.” He pointed to his eyes while he was turning with Matt, and then watched Jeb do it with Jonathan. “Pretend he’s Sara,” Will said. “All the ladies want you to gaze at them like they are the most beautiful creature you’ve ever looked upon.”
Will stopped them finally and said, “Now it’s time to learn the jig.”
“I like the jig,” Jonathan replied. To Matt’s amusement, the boy put his arms across his chest and did a rather competent jig.
“It would be easier with music,” Will declared. He turned and left the barn with no explanation. While he was gone, the boys practiced what they knew about jigs. Matt found that the steps were easy and it was simply a matter of remembering who was supposed to go where. They stopped when they heard the barn door opening. Two more lanterns accompanied Will. “I brought the music,” he said. His uncle and father followed him; David had a fiddle.
“I’ve not danced as of late,” Thomas said. “May we join?”
“You can, Father,” Jonathan declared, “but you should know that everyone has to take their turn being a lady.”
His father laughed. “So no one can jest later?”
“Exactly,” Jonathan replied.
“I’m here to play the fiddle,” David said, laughing. “I’ll not jest about anyone.”
They spent the next hour learning the finer points of the jig from Will. His father was anything but light on his feet, so even though Thomas was familiar with the dance, his son spent more time correcting him than Matt. When they had finished the jig, the barn went quiet for a moment as Will organized them for English country dancing. During the silence, they heard a knock on the barn door. “Who is it?” Will called out.
“It’s your mother. May I come in?”
Everyone looked around at each other and there was some mumbling.
“Are you dancing in there?”
“Maybe,” Will replied.
“I’m coming in,” she said. She opened the door with a lamp in hand. There were two other lamps behind her. Faith and Grace followed her into the barn.
Grace smiled at Matt. “If you should practice,” she said, “you may as well practice with a real lady.”
Jonathan looked around, counting. “One of us still must pretend,” he reminded. “I’ve already taken my turn.”
“I’ll be a lady,” Will said. “I’m a better dancer than most of them anyway.”
“You are not!” Grace exclaimed.
“He is, dear,” Mary said calmly. “Some of the ladies in the church don’t dance well at all.”
“Would it vex you if they join us, Mr. Miller?” Will asked, smiling.
It was obvious to Matt that the deal was already done. “Not at all,” he said. “But they should remember that this is work, not play.” They laughed at his deadpan pronouncement. The women set their lanterns down.
“We are teaching country dancing to Mr. Miller and Jeb,” Will called. “Line up!”
David started to play the fiddle, and everyone fell into line. The women seemed already to know what to do, but Will would stop often to correct the men. Once they had mastered the country dance, Will switched from dance to dance to test their skills. The more they did this, the more comfortable Matt became with the movements, and after a while, he forgot himself in having fun rather than trying to perfect his technique. At one point, they all laughed like mad as they danced around the barn, kicking up a cloud of hay dust. Matt enjoyed watching Thomas dance with Mary, imagining them as a young couple. Matt’s face ached from laughing and it made him realize that it had been a long time since he had really laughed, or even smiled.
It was two in the morning by the time everyone left to go back to their houses, leaving Matt with the dog in the barn. They never did practice the minuet, so Matt decided he’d try to win Grace’s heart with the other dances. “I’ll be damned if I didn’t learn to woo Richmond women tonight, boy,” Matt said.
The dog looked at him and tilted his head.
37
Rich Men’s Sons
Matt was up with the sun. He washed and dressed in the clothes that Mary had loaned him on his first Sunday. Now that he had his new clothes, he realized that the borrowed clothing was not of the high quality he had first thought. The clothes were comfortable, though, so he thought he’d eventually ask Will if he could buy them. He stepped out of the barn after he was dressed and walked to the privy.
Thomas was already coming out. “I guess no one is required to wake you.”
“I’m up at the crack of dawn like the other farmers,” Matt replied.
“A few farmers are still sleeping after dancing late.”
“I’d be sleeping too, if we weren’t going into town.”
“Maybe me as well,” Thomas admitted. “Get some breakfast. Jeb will come. He wants new clothes for Sunday.”
**********
Jeb answered the door chewing his
food when Matt finally arrived at the house for breakfast. “Good morning, Mr. Miller,” he said.
“I heard you’re going into town.”
“I desire new clothes for church.”
“I thought they were for the Martins’ party,” Matt replied with a knowing grin.
“That too,” Jeb said, yawning. “We stayed up late.”
“I know, right?” Matt said, yawning back.
“I have some trepidation,” Jeb said.
“It’s all about the lady,” Matt said. “Make sure everyone is looking at her.”
Jeb stepped close to Matt to talk quietly. “Grace loves to flash it away when she’s dancing,” he said.
“Flash it away?” Matt questioned. “She shows off?”
“She loves the minuet,” Jeb said. “Sometimes men don’t ask, though.”
“Why?” Matt said. “She’s beautiful.”
“Will said it’s because she’s beautiful that men fear to ask,” Jeb replied. “He said you should still be the one to speak to the beautiful girl or ask her to dance.”
“Your brother gives good advice.”
**********
They started their trip to Richmond with Thomas riding at a relatively fast pace. There was little chance for conversation for the first mile, but then Thomas slowed Patriot and Matt found himself in line with the older man. It seemed as good a time as any to make his request.
“Mr. Taylor,” he said. “I have something to ask.”
“Sounds important,” Thomas replied.
“It is.” Matt felt one of the strings of light tugging him forward. When he saw them, they pulled him out of his current thoughts as he looked to where they led. He was silent until he could consciously bring himself back from his daydream. He had no idea how long he had remained silent.
“Well?” Thomas said. “Will you ask your question?”
“I want your permission to court Grace,” Matt replied. He watched a huge grin cover Jeb’s face. Thomas, on the other hand, had a strained look. It was obvious the request had taken him by surprise.
