Swept Through Time - Time Travel Romance Box Set

by Tamara Gill

  “So your son took his whole family to safety, but for Miss Sara?”

  Old man Bailey reddened at Sean’s unspoken criticism. “She’s a stubborn lass. She wouldn’t go.”

  “If she were my daughter I would have forced her to go.”

  “Then it is my good fortune that you are not my papa!”

  At Sean’s swift look, Sara smiled sweetly. Jacqui began to revise her opinion of Sara Bailey. Maybe she wasn’t such an airhead after all.

  The Fenian soldiers emerged from the barn carrying saddles. They slung them on the top rail too close to Sunny Girl’s nose for the horse’s liking. She whinnied and tried to rear up.

  Bailey bellowed indignantly and headed over to calm the horse, but Sean got there first. Curious, Jaclyn followed the men.

  The only horses she’d ever seen close up were those used by the police force in Toronto’s parks. They were big animals ridden by big men who carried guns. As she looked at the three horses tied to the Bailey’s paddock fence she supposed this wouldn’t be such a different situation. The horses towered over her, making her glad that she would be returning to the encampment with the soldiers in the cart.

  Sean was crooning to Sunny Girl. There was no other way to describe the soft melodic sounds he was making as he stroked the animal’s glossy red-brown neck. Sunny Girl seemed to be just as charmed by his musical voice as Jaclyn had been, and Sara clearly was. What was it about this guy? Could he bewitch anything that was female?

  “Grady,” he said as he undid the hitching rope, “bring one of the saddles.”

  “Here now, you’re not going to saddle that horse! I’ve already told you that she isn’t broke to it.”

  “A fine bred carriage horse is no use to us, Mr. Bailey,” Sean said, as he walked Sunny Girl around the yard. She dropped her nose and butted him playfully. Sean stopped and turned to rub her. She snorted with contentment.

  “Then leave her.”

  “That I cannot do, sir. Grady, saddle her up.”

  “Damn it man, don’t do this!”

  When Grady dropped the saddle on Sunny Girl’s back, she jumped and danced away from him. Sean continued to stroke her muzzle and croon to her in his musical voice.

  Gradually she quieted. “Come over here and hold the lead rope, Mr. Bailey.”

  “I will not.”

  Jaclyn sidled over to Sara. “Your grandpa’s pretty stubborn, isn’t he?”

  Sara laughed, then she said, “And so is your Major O’Dell.”

  Jaclyn could only agree. In her opinion Sean went beyond stubborn into intractable.

  Bailey had moved closer to Sean and Sunny Girl. His expression was a mixture of anguish and fury as Grady buckled the saddle strap under the horse’s belly. She shifted uneasily under the strange weight on her back.

  “If you won’t hold her while I mount, Mr. Bailey, I’ll have Grady do it. But she’s more likely to remain calm if you are at her head.”

  “Don’t do this, O’Dell.”

  Sean said nothing. He held out the lead rope. Reluctantly, muttering insulting remarks about Irish ruffians who didn’t know their place, Bailey accepted the rope. Sean quickly slipped on a bridle and eased the halter and lead rope off the horse. Grandpa Bailey took hold of the bridle below the bit while Sean gathered up the reins. Then, with one smooth movement, Sean mounted.

  For a moment the filly was quiet as she listened to Bailey talk to her in a soothing way. Then he stood back, leaving Sean on his own. Sunny Girl snorted, tossed her head, reared up, then planted her feet and arched her back.

  “She’s going to buck!” Bailey ran over to where Jaclyn and Sara stood watching the spectacle.

  This was all too much for Jaclyn. She’d never been this close to a quiet, well-mannered horse, let alone one that was about to put on a rodeo show a few feet away from her. She backed toward the house prepared to dive inside if need be.

  Sunny Girl arched and kicked. Sean sat the horse as if he was comfortably settled in a rocking chair in his living room. His face was split by a huge grin. Clearly he was enjoying himself. Amazing.

  Sunny Girl bucked again, then bolted, heading for the fence that separated the farmyard from the driveway that lead out to a road.

  Jaclyn shrieked in a very un-boy-like way and cried, “Grandpa, do something! He’ll be killed.”

  “Sunny Girl’s got some Thoroughbred blood in her. She’s fast and she may be able to jump.” Though it was Sara who replied to Jaclyn’s demand, her gaze was fixed on the horse and rider.

  “Let’s hope so,” Bailey said, although he sounded anything but optimistic.

  Sunny Girl neared the fence, collected herself and rose. Sean leaned forward, urging her on. They soared over the gate with inches to spare, a partnership of visual grace and elegance. The horse landed without breaking stride. Sean lifted his hat in a gesture of triumph and the Fenian soldiers all cheered. Sean and Sunny Girl disappeared down the drive.

  “Wow,” Jacqui said. “I’ve never seen anything quite like that.”

  “Major O’Dell is certainly a good rider,” Sara said. Her big eyes lost some of their wideness when she looked over at Jaclyn. “Just who are you, Jack?”

  “Um... You mean, what’s my last name?”

  Sara’s eyes narrowed further. “I mean, you’re not from around here. You’re wearing strange clothes and you don’t talk like anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Oh, hell.” Jaclyn cast a quick look at the remaining Fenians. They had returned to their tasks, leaving Sara, her grandfather and Jaclyn on their own. “You’re right, I’m not. I’m from—”

  Where should she tell them she was from? If she said Toronto, they would still think she dressed strangely and spoke oddly. They had relatives in Toronto and had probably visited there. How about Kingston? Too close. She needed somewhere where people might be thought to be different.

  “I’m from, er, Montreal. I was visiting friends of my family in this area and I was out exploring when the Fenians captured me. But don’t tell them that! They think I’m a local boy and that I can help them with inside information. I don’t know what they’d do if they thought I was as much a stranger as they are.”

  “You could stay with us, Jack, until it’s safe to get back to your friends,” old Jim Bailey said.

  Although she didn’t want to spend the rest of the invasion sitting around in the Baileys’ kitchen, Jaclyn was touched. “Thank you, Grandpa. I don’t think it’s my decision though. Sean doesn’t pay much attention to what I say. He’s a pretty bossy guy, really.”

  Sara laughed. “I cannot believe that. If he were not a Fenian, I vow I would be completely charmed by him.”

  Why did she say things like that? Jaclyn sent her a disapproving look.

  “He’s coming back,” Grandpa said. Raising his voice, he added with a shout, “Grady, open the gate for Major O’Dell!”

  Sunny Girl had apparently run out her ire, for she obediently slowed from her canter to a trot as she entered the farmyard. Sean was smiling as he rode the horse toward them.

  “She has a beautiful gait, Mr. Bailey.” He sat the animal as if he were attached to her, holding the reins in one hand, his other resting on his thigh. “She’ll make a fine riding horse.”

  Old man Bailey glared at him. “Take care of her.”

  “I’ll let no one else ride her, sir. Jack, mount up on the gray. I’ll lead the black.”

  Jaclyn goggled at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.”

  “I thought I was coming back in the cart with the supplies.”

  “I can’t lead two horses. You’ll have to ride one.”

  “No way! I’ve never been on a horse in my life.”

  “I thought as much. That’s why you’re riding the gray. The Baileys used her to teach their own children. She’ll be gentle enough for you.”

  Jaclyn looked up at the clear blue sky. This was just too much. “Look, I’ve been up since God knows how long. I haven’t had my b
reakfast yet and I’m getting real grumpy. I’m not going to ride that horse and that’s all there is to it.”

  Sara gasped, then giggled. Bailey said, “Watch your mouth, lad!” and Sean sighed. He kicked Sunny Girl into her graceful canter and rode over to Grady. Sean said something that made him grin. He trotted over to the fence while Sean circled Sunny Girl.

  Focused on Sean, Jaclyn didn’t notice what Grady was up to until she heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked. To her horror she saw that he was standing with a rifle pointed straight at her.

  Sean cantered over and said politely, “Mount the gray, if you please, Jack.”

  When she looked desperately at old Grandpa Bailey Sean positioned the horse so that it was between Jacqui and the Baileys.

  “Are you going to have your goon shoot me?”

  He leaned his forearm on the front of the saddle and raised one damned arrogant brow. “Now, why ever would you be thinking that?”

  Jaclyn wanted to kill him, and if she couldn’t kill him she wanted to damage him. She considered slapping Sunny Girl to make her buck. She’d like to see Sean eating dust. The filly was close to Sara and her grandfather, though, and would probably kick them if she started jumping around, so Jacqui glared at Sean instead. “All right, I’ll do it, but I don’t want to. Got that?”

  Sean laughed. “Grady, give Jack a leg up.”

  Mounting the horse was a nightmare, but eventually she found herself on its back looking down on the grinning Grady. He adjusted her stirrup leathers, then shouted, “He’s ready, Major.”

  Sean circled Sunny Girl close to the gray. He was already holding the black horse’s lead rope. “Grip with your knees, keep your heels down and don’t pull on the reins. Move out.”

  He set off at a trot. Jaclyn gathered the reins just in time, for the gray had apparently decided to follow her stablemates. Behind her she heard Bailey boom out, “Good luck, Jack.”

  God, she was going to need it.

  ***

  It felt good to be back on a horse again, especially one as full of spirit and fire as the chestnut Sunny Girl. When she’d soared over that fence and out of the farmyard his heart had soared with her. The raw, unleashed power had made his spirit light for the first time in far too long.

  Breaking a horse to the saddle was not his chosen method. He preferred to gentle a horse and train it slowly, but Sunny Girl had already been taught to accept the bit and a carriage harness so he’d judged that she was ready for the saddle.

  He’d taken Sunny Girl and the handsome black because he knew that if he didn’t someone else—the slippery Major Canty came to mind, along with that dangerous show-off, Owen Starr—would. The highbred Bailey horses were better off with someone who would give them proper care.

  As he rode Sunny Girl into the once lush orchard where there were now more trees on the ground than standing, his gut clenched with quick revulsion. He’d been a soldier for five years. He’d fought for four of those five years. He’d seen devastation far worse than what was being done here. And yet, the destruction of the orchard made him ask himself what results the Fenian army could hope to achieve with this invasion. They’d come to liberate downtrodden peasants from the weight of British rule. What they’d found were prosperous farms like Newbigging’s and Bailey’s and free men angry about the Fenian invaders, not their British rulers.

  Sean pulled the filly to a stop near O’Neill’s command post and dismounted. As horses will, the gray stopped too. Jack looked down at the ground with a dubious expression. His wide-eyed terror at the beginning of the ride had moderated to cautious enjoyment as he adapted to the movement of the horse. Now he awkwardly swung his leg over the gray’s back and slithered down to the ground.

  Sean almost laughed as he watched the boy cling to the saddle while his legs adjusted to being back on solid ground. “Make yourself useful, boy, and hold the horses while I speak to Colonel O’Neill.”

  Jack straightened and reluctantly pushed himself away from the support of the mare. “What am I supposed to do with them?”

  Sunny Girl jerked her head up in a playful way. Absently Sean rubbed her nose with his free hand. “Keep them from wandering off.”

  Jack frowned. “Why not just tie them up somewhere?”

  “It’s safer to have someone hold them.” Sean didn’t add that he wanted to be sure that none of the other Fenians took Sunny Girl as a trophy of war. She was his for now and he intended to keep her. He held out the reins.

  Jack accepted them without much enthusiasm. Sunny Girl immediately tossed her head. “Hey, cut that out, horse!”

  Startled by his loud voice, Sunny Girl reared up. Sean caught her bridle and held her steady. “Here’s a lesson, boy. Keep your voice calm and a horse will do as you chose.”

  Jack tightened his grip on the reins. “Right.”

  As he neared the command tent, Sean saw that Major Canty, the spy, was with O’Neill. Damn! Canty, with his smooth manners and his English inflection, made his skin crawl.

  “Colonel,” he said, saluting. “The foraging parties have been sent and should start returning soon.”

  “Soon isn’t good enough,” Canty said. “Colonel O’Neill, the men are hungry. They need to be fed.”

  “Colonel, I could have ordered the men to pillage the farms in the area, snatching what they needed for the moment at whatever cost. I took it to be a sound military decision to order the parties to forage in a methodical way so that we gathered all of the supplies we need for the next few days at one time.”

  “Very good, Major.”

  “I took a small detachment and—”

  “We got this real nice black horse for you to ride,” Jack said. The lad had come up behind Canty and was grinning at Colonel O’Neill. Sean noticed that his commanding officer was having a difficult time disguising his amusement. Jack’s cocky smile was infectious.

  “You have an excellent eye for horse flesh, Major.”

  The black horse butted Canty in the back. He glared at Jack. “Do you know, boy, I can’t place you. Are you from around this area?”

  Jack was silent for a few moments. He studied Canty with a coolly critical expression that was oddly mature for a boy of his age. Finally, he said, “Strange thing, that. I can’t place you either, Canty. Since you don’t know who I am, and I don’t know who you are, I guess that means you don’t know as much about these parts as you think you do.”

  Jack had made an enemy. Sean could see it in Canty’s cold eyes. “Jack, take the horses over to the those standing trees.” Jack’s chin jutted out. Sean almost groaned. The boy was full of spirit, but he chose the wrong moments to assert himself.

  A command to “Halt!” was followed by a scuffling of feet, then finally an indignant shout. “Take your hands off me!”

  Jack’s eyes widened. His lips parted, then stretched into a smile. Mischief danced in his eyes. Evidently, he knew the voice.

  So much for Canty’s suspicions. The thought gave Sean a strange satisfaction as he turned to see who belonged to the deep, angry bellow.

  “I want to see that fellow over there. The one in charge. Now!”

  O’Neill stood. Leaning his hands on the small desk, he said, “Not again.”

  “Do you know him, Colonel? Who is he?” Sean asked.

  Canty turned toward Jack with an abrupt movement that made the boy jump and the horses prance. Canty’s eyes gleamed with a malicious light. “Why not let our local lad identify the intruder?”

  His attention still focused on the approaching man, O’Neill flicked a look at Canty, then nodded.

  Canty’s cold eyes bored into Jack’s face. The boy’s expression went blank, as if he had no idea what they were talking about. Sean’s heart skipped a beat. He’d been so sure Jack knew the identity of the angry intruder.

  Finally, after what seemed forever, Jack said slowly, “I suppose there is no harm in telling you. He’ll be introducing himself in a moment or two anyway.”

  C
anty’s lip curled into a sneer. “Get on with it, boy.”

  Jack lifted his chin again as he watched the irate gentleman stride toward them. “Why that would be Thomas Newbigging, Justice of the Peace, and the man who owns the land you’re camped on.” He looked around at the tree stumps and the litter of fallen leaves and flower petals that surrounded them, then he smiled faintly. “And right about now, I think he’s pretty mad about what you’ve done to his orchard.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  O’Neill pursed his lips. “He’s already been to see me about our being in his orchard. I wonder what he’s on about now?”

  Canty ‘s narrowed brown eyes bored into Jaclyn. She wanted to squirm, but stopped herself.

  “Who are you, boy?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead she glared at him defiantly.

  Canty turned back to the Fenian leader. “Evidently the boy does know the people of this area, Colonel O’Neill. As you found out when you met Mr. Newbigging earlier, he is indeed a local justice of the peace, a landowner who’s well-to-do and who could be called a member of what passes for the local gentry. He has already complained about your men camping on his orchard. As the boy observed, he is sure to be angry that you are demolishing it.”

  O’Neill briefly closed his eyes. “Is there anything the good Mr. Newbigging can do that will endanger our campaign?”

  Canty thought for a moment before replying. “He can rouse public opinion against us, which could be a problem in the future, but he is of no immediate danger.”

  A small smile played over Colonel O’Neill’s mouth and was gone. “So I must be a diplomat and convince the fine gentleman that we are here as his friends and not his enemies. Very well. Major O’Dell, if you would be so kind, escort Mr. Newbigging over to me.”

  Sean saluted in that crisp military way of his and marched off. Jaclyn made a show of backing the horses away from the command center. The twitch between her shoulder blades told her that Canty was still trying to figure out who she was. If he discovered that not only was she a girl, but that she was from the future and knew the outcome of the invasion, she was in deep trouble. She shivered. He’d do his best to extract every last detail from her subconscious using methods that probably originated with the Spanish Inquisition. If the Fenians knew what their enemies were planning, would they change their actions? Possibly. Probably. Who knew? The problem was that they would act differently, and in so doing, change how other people acted and thought. The result would be a lot of little changes causing a more general change. This could be disastrous for the future. Her future.