by Loyd, Sandy
Sam, his oldest at five, had Colin’s coloring and temperament as did three-year-old Melanie. Rebecca, his baby, was a miniature of Abby. Sometimes when looking at her his guilt would get the better of him, and he’d want to hug her to him, as if doing so would assuage the emotion.
He left them sleeping and walked toward his bedroom with the realization that Abigail hadn’t entered his thoughts until that moment, since before spying his young handler out by the trees, a novelty since her death. He was tired of feeling guilty and being reminded of how much his wife had hated being here. He often wondered why she’d married him when he’d made it abundantly clear during their short courtship that he wasn’t content to stay in Virginia. He’d always planned to find a place where he could start his own farm without the interference of his domineering father.
Colin had specific ideas of what he wanted for his farm that were more forward thinking, not at all like his father’s tried and true ways of generations. These ideas always created tension between the two men. Colin was more apt to experiment with his breeding and bring in new blood to his American thoroughbreds. He had a good eye for horseflesh. If he saw certain traits in a mare he liked, he had no qualms of putting her in with one of his stallions to see what she produced.
In the four years he’d been in business, his methods were generating incredible horses. Most of these he sold off, providing a good income. His dream of owning one of the best horse farms in the country was beginning to take shape. If Abigail had embraced his dream, he would have been the happiest man in the world. Unfortunately, his dream had played too big a part in her unhappiness, which kept him awake far into the night, staring at the dark ceiling and wishing it hadn’t been so.
~
Thankfully, when Libby made it back to the small house, no one but Nathan paid her any attention. At first she was nervous. After all, she’d been gone in the future for several weeks, but it was obvious no more than an hour had passed here.
Nathan ran up to her and grabbed her hand. “Libby, I’ve finished my chores. Do you want to play checkers before bed?”
Smiling at his eagerness, Libby let him lead her to the table. “I guess I could play one game.”
“Great. What color do you want to be?”
“Hmmm.” She stroked her chin, appearing deep in thought. “Black. I need to warn you, I’m pretty good at this.”
Nathan giggled. “So am I.”
Once Libby sat, he went over to a cabinet and retrieved a checkerboard and a cup that held carved round wood pieces painted either red or black. As Nathan laid the board on the table and proceeded to place the pieces on the checkerboard in the appropriate spaces, Libby wondered how to go about getting her hands on Colin’s deed. It wasn’t as if she was experienced in this type of thing.
“Since yer my frien’, you can go first,” he said, looking up at her.
His smile was so engaging that Libby was drawn out of her thoughts. Tomorrow was soon enough to figure out how to be a thief. “OK. Prepare to be beaten.” She moved her piece one space and the game began.
“King me,” he said, jumping two of her pieces and landing at the end square.
Libby grunted and did as he asked. The little guy played a lot of checkers. She’d always thought it was a simple game requiring a basic skill, but Nathan seemed to have a strategy. Within the next five minutes, he soundly beat her. She stared at the board in awe, unable to believe a ten-year-old boy had trounced her so quickly.
“Best two out of three,” she said, while setting up the board again for another round. “And this time, I’m putting on my boxing gloves. No more Mr. Nice Guy. You are clearly a worthy opponent.”
Nathan laughed, clearly pleased by her praise of his abilities. The second game took fifteen minutes longer, but the outcome was no different than the first game. Nathan emerged the winner. When that happened, Libby eyed him speculatively. “I think I’ve been hustled.”
Chuckling, Gus came into the room and walked toward the gas wall sconce as Berta followed, only to disappear into the kitchen. “Nathan’s been playing checkers since he was in nappies,” he said, turning out the flame. “He loves the game and he hates to lose.” He moved to the other one across the room. “It’s a good thing you lost. Otherwise, he’d never let you walk away from the table until he won. Come on, it’s time for bed. We all have a long day tomorrow. You can try for a win tomorrow night, Libby.”
“I guess I am pretty tired.” She got up from the table. Near Nathan’s chair, she placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Come on, friend. I’ll have to work on my strategy.”
By the time she and Nathan were nestled in their beds, a little over an hour had passed since Libby was transported back in time. She wasn’t tired at all. Then she remembered it was afternoon when she had left the future. She mused that she was probably suffering from a time zone change of sorts.
Lying there, she could only marvel at how similar this experience was to the last time she was here.
This entire process no longer frightened her. Now it seemed like an adventure or quest she had to conquer before she could go home for good. Until then, she planned to enjoy her visit here in the past. After all, everything about this farm was worth the trip—the people, the horses, and the land. Sighing, Libby brought her arm around and put it under her head. Everything would work out in the end. Somehow she just had to believe that it would.
The next morning’s rituals were no different than those other mornings she’d previously spent in 1874. Berta was in the kitchen when Libby returned from the privy. The toothbrush, bowl, cloth, and soap were on the counter. She promptly pumped water into the bowl, added a bit of hot water, and washed. After brushing her teeth with the weird-tasting powder and emptying the basin and rinsing it out, she turned to go to the table.
Breakfast was also much the same affair as always, but this time Libby had come to accept the camaraderie of the family and joined in. When she’d lived with her father before she went to college, nothing had ever been this easy. Libby couldn’t remember what it had been like when her mom was alive, having very little memory of everyday happenings. Mostly the big events were what stayed in her mind. She wasn’t sure if her mother’s death changed things.
Soon Gus pushed away from the table and gave his wife a peck on the cheek. “We have a full day ahead. Come on, Libby,” he said, glancing at her. “We’d best get started.”
After waving at Berta and pretending to hit Nathan’s shoulder, Libby followed.
The June morning was crisp and cool, with very little humidity in the air as she fell into step next to Gus.
“Colin is leaving this morning, so we’ll need to take over his duties,” he said on the way. “That shouldn’t be a problem, since you’re so good with horses. I’m thinking you ride as well as you work with them?”
Libby shrugged, holding in her excitement. “Yeah,” she said as nonchalantly as she could. “I can ride. I was hoping you’d let me.”
Gus only grunted. “I’m working on training two of the mares for racing. You can take over for me. That way I can then work with the stallions. Our track’s out by the north pasture. Early morning is the best time to give them a couple of runs. We usually work two at a time—they run faster when they have a little competition.”
Libby cleared her throat. “I’ve never raced on a track before. I’m used to riding thoroughbreds and giving them a good run,” she said, swallowing her disappointment. “I’m not sure I’m ready to race on a track.”
“Ha!” Gus clapped her on the back. “If you can race through the countryside, you can race on a course. The horse may be a bit faster, but the even ground more than makes up for the extra speed.” He practically cackled in glee. “You’re in for a treat. Nothing compares to running these beauties around the track, encouraging them to reach their peak speeds.”
Open-jawed, Libby could only stare at him. Oh my God. She was going to race a horse. That alone was worth the inconvenience of havin
g to return to 1874. Her grin widened. Every bit of the excitement running through her system came out in her voice as she said, “OK, I’m game.”
They entered the stables amid shouts and activity. Libby had to step back to avoid running into two men leading horses in their direction.
“Come on over here and meet the four we’ll be working with this morning,” Gus said, walking up to the beauty she’d seen him with on her earlier visit. “This is Zeus and here we have Asapurna, Fortuna, and Hercules,” Gus said as he took her to each horse, introducing her one by one.
Libby rubbed Asapurna’s neck and the mare nuzzled her in greeting. Up close she was gorgeous. All of them absolutely stole her breath with their magnificence. The thought of riding any one of them overwhelmed her. It was like she’d gone to sleep and a dream she hadn’t ever known she had was turning into reality.
“Once we exercise them, we’ll set them out to graze,” he said, handing Asapurna’s reins to one of the handlers.
“Do you put them to pasture because it’s summer,” she asked, wanting to know all there was to know about how horses were trained in the past.
“Ja. We also do it in the winter as much as we can. The grasses here in Kentucky are better than any grain we can buy.” He stopped for a minute to grab some tack off the wall. Then he began to help ready the four horses for their workouts. “The only problem is we have to monitor how long they are out eating. Otherwise the horses have a tendency to get fat.”
“So the grasses really make better horses?” Like everyone else in her century, Libby had come to take for granted what was right in her backyard. The grasses became a background, hardly noticeable because they were forever present.
Gus nodded. “Our soil’s rich in nutrients. Some believe the limestone in the natural terrain leaches out into the grass, which in turn, is eaten by the horses and helps build a strong skeleton on the young foals.”
“All that from grass,” she asked distractedly, brushing Asapurna. A native of Kentucky, she never thought about something as simple as grass being so important.
“Ja, bluegrass and bear grass are considered indigenous to this part of the country, but we don’t know if it was always here or if other settlers brought it,” Gus said, warming to his subject. “Many farms harvest the seed to sell in other parts of the US. Doesn’t matter to Colin or me. We only care that these native grasses help make the thoroughbred stronger and better. Before the war, most races were endurance races of at least four miles and for sure the horses were fast. Now races are shorter distances, usually about a mile or so, but the horses run much faster. Of course the horses from our stables do both—run faster and last longer. They have the endurance to last four miles or longer and are some of the fastest horses alive.” Pride rang out loud and clear in Gus’s voice.
“Well, these horses are definitely superior,” Libby said, putting the brush down and following him through the stable.
Until that moment, Libby never understood how important the landscape was to the health and well-being of the horses. The terrain seemed forever green—whether rolling hills or neighborhood yards—always the lushest in the late springtime and early summer after the spring rains. No wonder the best thoroughbreds in the country were raised within a fifty-mile radius of this land.
When everything was ready, they headed in the direction of the course. Along the way, Libby could only stare. The scene could be part of a Monet painting. The various greens of the grass and the lush deciduous trees, with their assorted shades of brown trunks that dotted the landscape, contrasted sharply with a sand-colored stone wall that circled the pasture. The focal point of the entire scene was the reddish-brown sand and clay track, surrounded by a white fence and centered in all of the hues of greens and browns. Libby sighed. This truly was an adventure. There was nowhere else she’d rather be at that moment in time than here, preparing to race thoroughbreds.
“I thought you’d be halfway to Louisville,” Gus said, drawing her attention to a man she hadn’t noticed—Colin Thorpe. He was dressed more formally, wearing a jacket and necktie, than when Libby last saw him.
Pretending her heart wasn’t beating wildly, she followed Gus and Colin over to the head trainer she’d met earlier. Jake took the reins to all four horses they’d been leading.
“I had a little time to kill before my train departs.” Without looking at Libby, Colin nodded in her direction. “What’s the lad doing here?” he said in an accusing voice that made her back straighten with determination to convince him that she belonged here, even if she didn’t.
“He’s proven his mettle,” Gus said, taking the sting away from Colin’s comment. “He says he’s ridden before, so I’m trying him out with the mares.”
“Really?” He then gave her a cursory glance and grunted. “He must’ve impressed you if you’re letting him ride one of the thoroughbreds. You’re usually very protective of them.”
“I still am. Just watch. See if I’m not right,” was all Gus said before nodding to Libby for her to follow him.
“I’ll watch, all right. I’m very interested in what the lad does after last night,” Colin said, then turned and walked toward Jake.
Libby tried not to let the comment bother her, but something about his tone of voice struck a nerve. She risked a glance back at Colin and watched as he and Jake exchanged a few words. Unfortunately, he chose that moment to look up and catch her staring. Averting her gaze, she inhaled deeply, praying her face wasn’t as red as it felt. She did not want to find that blue gaze so compelling, especially when he already seemed suspicious of her. “Remember, Libby, you’re here for a purpose, so don’t get sidetracked,” she said under her breath. She needed to make a good showing during the race to ensure her job here. Going home without a copy of the deed wasn’t an option.
The men scrambled about setting up for the race. Mounting Asapurna, Libby allowed the excitement of the moment to help her shove Colin and his compelling gaze out of her mind. Gus rode Zeus. A handler, keeping a grip on both reins, walked with them to the starting point.
Jake held a stopwatch in one hand and gun in the other. He looked to Gus to give him the signal before firing.
At the sharp report, Asapurna leaped onto the course and took off with surprising speed. Libby quickly caught her balance and leaned forward, moving in sync and watching the scenery whiz by. Spurring the mare on, she’d never felt more liberated or happier. “Come on, girl,” she whispered, laughing at the rush she felt, knowing they were ahead. Riding this mount, with the wind blowing through her hair as the mare’s gait ate up ground, was indescribable.
She saw Gus on Zeus out of her peripheral vision, riding at warp speed, catching up fast. As the other horse and rider slowly took the lead, she leaned in and urged, “Come on, you’re too good to let him win.” Libby whooped and hollered as Asapurna did her damnedest to regain the lead, staying less than a length behind the stallion until the end.
When the race was over, both riders allowed their mounts to slow to a steady walk, then guided them back to where the group had gathered.
Gus dismounted and handed his reins to one of the other handlers. “Cool them off. They both gave a good showing.” Then he looked to Jake. “What’d he do? It has to be good.”
“It was.” Jake grinned. “Knocked two seconds off his best time. The mare set a record too.”
“I thought so.” Laughing, he walked over to Libby, who still sat atop of Asapurna. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Asapurna’s never run that fast. I had to push Zeus to keep his lead.”
Pure delight welled up in Libby. With her gaze on the ground, she dismounted with Gus’s help, just as Colin walked up.
“Where did you learn to ride like that?”
She looked up and noted those startling eyes again, only this time rather than being filled with suspicion, they held approval. As Colin continued holding her focus, her mind went blank. Not the best time to be tongue-tied. Geez, why did this guy affect her like this
?
Finally, she was able to clear her throat and managed to croak out, “I don’t know. I’ve always liked horses and they like me. I’ve been told I have a way with them.”
And even more disconcerting? During their brief stare-off, she sensed a connection. He seemed as bothered by it as she was, considering afterward he quickly looked away, appearing embarrassed.
“Whoever told you that spoke the truth,” he said, recovering almost immediately. The warmth in his voice wrapped around her being like a blanket, casting off the rest of his earlier coolness.
“Our job just got easier,” he said, looking at Gus, practically beaming, which added another ten degrees to the heat spreading throughout her system. “Are you going to work the other two now? I can’t wait to see what they can do.”
“Ja,” Gus said. “This should be good.”
Libby kept quiet as they all headed to the starting point where Fortuna and Hercules stood waiting patiently for their turn. Never in her life had she felt such a pull as when Colin held out his joined hands to give her a lift up. The instant attraction filling her senses unsettled her. For God’s sake, even though she and Dave still hadn’t worked things out, she wasn’t free to go daydreaming about horse breeders who lived in the wrong century.
When the gun went off, Libby had no more time to contemplate her love life. She had her hands full with Fortuna. The mare was that much faster than Asapurna and every rider’s dream. Libby was bound and determined to make a good showing.
“Come on, girl, show me what you’ve got,” she said, leaning into the mare, feeling the rush as the wind hit her face and the landscape flew by in a whirl of greens, browns, and grays. Instantly, it was as if she and the horse became one with a common goal. Fortuna, responding to her slightest touch and voice commands, stayed with the other horse, trying with all her might to take the lead. Hercules crossed the finish line first, but if the race had been longer, Fortuna might have won.
