She turned and looked at Mia. “The clothing that I brought you is in the guest room down the hall.”
“Thank you, Abby, for everything,” Mia said.
Abby walked back to Wesley’s side, and with a wave of her hand, they left the room, closing the door behind them.
“I suppose I should go change and get myself straightened up a bit,” Mia said, rubbing her palms on her breeches.
“I’ll be here,” Benjamin replied, smiling at her.
She turned to leave the room.
“Mia,” he said.
With her hand on the door knob, she stopped and turned around to look at him.
“I know you sacrificed a great deal to come back and help me. Thank you.”
***
After twelve days of healing, Benjamin was eager to visit Mr. Turner. In truth, he had wanted to go much sooner, but erring on the side of caution, he thought it wiser to rest a while, so that he did not risk re-opening his injuries and causing further delay to his healing. The doctor had removed his stitches the previous day, and it appeared that he was healing as expected with no evidence of infection.
“We’re almost there,” Wesley announced, sitting atop his horse in front of Mia and Benjamin.
Benjamin had asked Abram to saddle Buttercup, a gentle mare, for Mia to ride. He had spent last evening instructing her on how to ride, and so far, the trip on the back trails of Lookout Mountain had been uneventful.
He kept his black stallion, Thunder, a short distance behind Buttercup as an extra precaution to ensure Mia’s safety. He would have preferred the carriage, but the terrain in the back woods of the mountain would have been impossible to navigate. Being outdoors and listening to the rhythm of the horses’ hooves clomping against the trail was a welcome respite from being holed up indoors during his recovery. Mia had refused to let him do too much activity, although she did agree to a few picnics on the lawn over the last few days, as long as he promised not to do anything to strain his sutures.
In truth, the last few days had given them plenty of opportunity to talk and spend time together. Just as he expected, Mia was a nurturer. Someday, she would make a wonderful wife and mother.
The day was starting to heat up and Benjamin swiped at the perspiration on his brow. Luckily, most of the trail was under the cover of trees. Spotting them, a deer sprinted through the forest.
Wesley paused and pointed up a side trail to a tiny log cabin nestled amongst the trees. “There it is.”
Benjamin walked Thunder up beside Buttercup, peering into the woods.
“Do you think he’s home?” Mia asked.
“Most likely,” Wesley answered, nudging his horse toward the cabin with Mia and Benjamin following.
When they reached the cabin, they dismounted and tied the reins of their horses to a post near the front door.
Benjamin helped Mia down from her horse. Since she was an inexperienced rider, Benjamin had suggested that she wear her breeches under her skirt, and once they were on the secluded trails of the mountain, she switched from sidesaddle to riding astride the horse.
Mia brushed her palms against the skirt of the brown dress, trying to smooth the wrinkles from the fabric.
“You look fine,” Benjamin encouraged her.
Wesley was already walking to the front door, and they quickly followed. He knocked at the thick, roughhewn, wooden door.
Opening immediately, the door revealed an unkempt man in his fifties with graying hair and a full beard. He wore drab, worn clothing and dusty boots.
“Mr. Turner?” Wesley asked.
“Who wants to know?” the man demanded, glaring from person to person with untrusting, brown eyes.
“I’m Andrew Duncan’s son, Wesley.”
A smile crinkled the man’s eyes, and he laughed as he held his hand out to Wesley. “Wesley, I haven’t seen you in ten years. How’s your pa doing?”
“He’s good,” Wesley answered.
“Well, come on in,” the man offered, gesturing them in the cabin with a wave of his hand.
The one room cabin had a crude plank floor and sparse furnishings. A small bed was tucked in one corner of the room, and a small, square, wooden table with two chairs was a short distance away on the other side. A pile of unburned wood sat in the fireplace.
Wesley introduced them. “This is my brother-in-law, Benjamin Richards, and his friend, Mia.”
“Hi, Mr. Turner,” Benjamin greeted, holding his hand out. Mr. Turner shook his hand and nodded a greeting at Mia.
“Why don’t you two have a seat at the table? Me and Wesley can sit on the bed.”
Mr. Turner walked over and straightened the worn, gray blanket across the bed. Then, he sat down, followed by Wesley.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re here,” Wesley began. “When I was younger, you used to tell me stories about legends from this area.”
Mr. Turner nodded in agreement, stroking his beard.
“I remember you once telling me a story about a hole in the air, a hole that would allow people to travel through time,” Wesley continued.
“Ah, the Vanishing Ancients,” Mr. Turner said. “My mother was taught to fear them. The legends speak of the Vanishing Ancients appearing in thin air, slaying unsuspecting victims, and then vanishing as quickly as they came.”
Mr. Turner continued stroking his beard. “But the legend begins long before white man came to this continent, and the details have been lost down through the ages.”
“How do they tie in with traveling through time?” Benjamin asked.
“My mother said that they were believed to be powerful rulers when they were alive. They used their powers to create time portals to allow spirits to roam through time. It was an extension of their power, a way for them to control even in their deaths. But it is an old legend, nothing more. There is no way to know whether it is true.”
“I don’t know if the legends are true, but I do know that time portals exist,” Benjamin said.
“How do you know this?” Mr. Turner asked, eyeing Benjamin thoughtfully.
“I have been through the time portals many times,” Benjamin answered.
“I’ve been through one, too,” Mia added. “I’m from the future.”
Mr. Turner laughed.
Benjamin looked at Mia and then at Wesley.
“And you lived to tell about it?” Mr. Turner asked.
“When I was a soul in transition, they allowed me to pass through freely,” Benjamin said.
“But you and I both know that everything changed when you brought her here, don’t we?” he asked, pointing at Mia, but keeping his eyes focused on Benjamin’s face.
Sweat trickled down Benjamin’s spine, though it wasn’t from the temperature. Despite being August, the cabin was relatively cool due to being tucked under numerous trees in the higher altitude of the mountain. It wasn’t the heat that was making him sweat. It was Mr. Charles Turner. Benjamin had the distinct feeling that he knew much more about what was going on than he had yet to admit.
Benjamin nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, it did,” he answered. “Before when I came through the portal, I would land right back in my life, but I could change nothing. I would say the same thing that I had said hundreds, if not thousands, of times before. I would die the same death.
“But the instant that Mia came through the portal with me, it was different. Nothing has been the same.”
“And that is when it gets dangerous,” Mr. Turner said. “That’s when things can happen to change everything as we know it.”
“Perhaps,” Benjamin agreed. “But the portals are protected by gatekeepers. Few people will ever even know about the portals, much less be able to enter one.”
“And so what do you want from me?” Mr. Turner asked.
“I want to return home,” Mia said. “We were hoping you might have information to help us understand how the portals work, how I may be able to return home safely without being shredded in two the way
Benjamin almost was.”
“So you were attacked by the Vanishing Ancients?” Mr. Turner asked, eyeing Benjamin.
“Yes,” Benjamin replied.
“I see.” Mr. Turner stared at the floor, again stroking his beard as if deep in thought.
“Can you help them?” Wesley asked.
“The Vanishing Ancients hold all power over the portals. With that power comes the responsibility of ensuring that the veracity of time is upheld,” Mr. Turner replied. “There is a reason they do not permit living people to travel through the portals at will.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” Mia shrieked. “I have to return home. I can’t abandon my mother.”
“Mia, we’ll find a way. Matthew has passed through the portals. We can get you safely through the portal, too,” Benjamin assured her, reaching for her hand across the scarred, wooden table. “I promise you that I will get you back home.”
“Maybe if I’m returning to the time that I came from, they won’t bother me,” Mia suggested. “Maybe they’ll think it’s better that I do travel back to my own time.”
“How will they know where you’re going? Don’t make the mistake of thinking that they will not go after you,” Mr. Turner warned.
Benjamin could see the panic in her eyes. He traced a small circle on the back of her hand with his thumb, needing to touch her, to let her know that he was there for her. “Mia, I made you a promise, and I will see that you get home.”
She nodded her head in understanding. She cleared her throat and regained her composure. “I trust you, Benjamin.”
“I guess we should go,” Wesley said, rising from the bed. He turned to his father’s friend and held out his hand. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with us. I was hoping you might be able to give us some advice, but I guess we’ll just have to find another way.”
“Benjamin means a lot to you,” Mr. Turner acknowledged.
“Yes. He is like my own brother, and my wife loves him dearly. I would do anything for either of them.”
Mr. Turner looked at Mia and spoke slowly, “When you return to the portal, tell the gatekeeper your name. Speak loudly as he approaches. Falter and it could cost you your life.”
“All we have to do is tell him our name?” Benjamin asked incredulously, rising from the table and walking to stand by Mia.
“Not you,” Mr. Turner said firmly, eyeing Benjamin. He focused his gaze back on Mia’s face. “Her.”
“It will only work for me?” Mia asked, surprised by his answer.
“Yes. Only for you, and only at this portal. Once you return home, you will not receive mercy from another gatekeeper. Understood?” he asked, his voice deep and stern.
“But how do you know this?” Mia asked.
“You only need to know that I speak the truth. I stake my honor on it,” he answered, holding his hand out to her.
She stared at his outstretched hand. Benjamin followed her gaze and noticed a strange, circular tattoo with an intricate design inked in his palm.
Mia shook his hand.
Wesley approached Mr. Turner and held out his hand. “Thank you.”
They shook hands, and Mr. Turner replied, “You are welcome, my friend. Tell your father I said hello.”
Wesley smiled. “I will.”
Benjamin led Mia out of the cabin. As he released her hand and watched her approach Buttercup, fear seized him. Fear that Mr. Turner’s advice would not keep her safe. And if it did, fear that he would truly never see her again.
Chapter 12
Perched in a cloudless, brilliant blue sky, the warm August sun shone brightly. Mia’s hair waved behind her like a banner as she galloped across the green field on Buttercup’s back. Glad that she was wearing pants instead of the long skirt that was considered appropriate, she squeezed Buttercup with her knees, urging her to go faster. She could hear Thunder’s hooves behind her and knew that Benjamin was catching up with her.
She laughed as he bolted by her atop Thunder. Buttercup was no match for Thunder’s sheer power, and she was no match for Benjamin’s riding skills. After only nine days of training, she was still a little frightened while galloping.
Benjamin reached the pond just in front of her, and they both reined their horses to a stop. Benjamin dismounted first and rushed to her side to help her down. He retrieved a small blanket and their supper from his saddlebags and left the horses to graze.
Ever the gentleman, Benjamin spread the blanket out and unwrapped their sandwiches. He laid a canteen of water beside them.
“Please sit,” he said, taking her hand while she dropped into a sitting position on the blanket. “Are you having fun?”
“Yes,” she answered breathlessly, watching the ducks paddle lazily in the pond. “I find galloping on horseback to be exhilarating.”
“I agree. To me, it is the essence of freedom—the power of the beast beneath you, the wind in your face, the thundering of the hooves. It is a great elixir for the soul.”
“And does your soul need healing, Benjamin?” she asked quietly, gently running her fingertips across his bicep and down his forearm.
He turned away from the view of the pond and looked at her with clear, blue eyes, his expression serious. He captured her fingers in the palm of his hand. “My healing started the day I met you. You are my elixir.”
“Then perhaps you need another dose,” she whispered, her face upturned as she leaned closer to him.
He closed the distance between their lips and kissed her fervently, as if this would be their last kiss. After leaving her breathless, he pulled away and shot her a crooked grin. “Yes, I think I do feel better.”
Her heart beat furiously against her ribcage. What was it about his kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through her body?
He entwined his fingers with hers and kissed the back of her hand. “I wish today could last forever,” he said, gazing over the pond.
She squeezed his hand, knowing that it couldn’t, that even though she did want to spend more time with Benjamin, she couldn’t leave her mother alone.
“According to the almanac, we have seven days until the next full moon,” he said, as if reading her mind.
“Do you think Mr. Turner is right? That the gatekeeper won’t bother me if I speak my name before I go through the portal?” she asked. Even though Mr. Turner had spoken adamantly, she was skeptical.
“I hope he’s right. Wesley has faith in him, so I must put my faith in him, too. I do wonder, though, what Mr. Turner knows that we don’t.” Benjamin reached out and lightly touched her chin with his fingers, forcing her to look at him. “I will be right there with you. I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe.”
She nodded her head, knowing that his loyalty and sense of responsibility would not let him do otherwise.
“Lusinda made us some sandwiches,” he said.
She didn’t have much of an appetite, but she ignored the knot of emotions in the pit of her stomach and nibbled on her sandwich, anyway.
After they finished eating, Benjamin removed a cloth bag filled with vegetable scraps from his saddlebag. He handed the bag to Mia. “I thought you might want to feed the ducks.”
“Don’t you want to feed them, too?” she asked, opening the bag.
“No. I’d rather watch you,” he said, leaning back on the blanket and stretching his legs out in front of him. He propped himself up on his elbows.
She watched him for a moment, mentally noting how handsome he was, his dark hair blowing in the balmy breeze, dark lashes framing eyes even more brilliant than the sky, his angular jawline, and his lean, muscular body.
At the beginning of summer, she thought she had been in love with Matt. It was almost humorous now, now that she knew what it was to love someone.
When Benjamin was near, her heart beat a little faster, her senses were a little keener, her emotions were a little more vivid. She wished that she had her camera with her, so she could take pictures of him and of the two of them
together back with her. Her fingers found the locket around her neck, and she felt comforted.
She tossed the scraps on the bank and laughed as the ducks raced to snatch them up with their beaks. The ducklings waddled onto the bank, scooping up bits of vegetables wherever they could.
Buttercup whinnied softly, and Mia glanced at the horses as they munched on clumps of grass a short distance away.
She lay back on the blanket by Benjamin, staring at the sky and wondering what Achilles was doing. He was probably chasing a squirrel up a tree at this very moment. She hoped her mother was feeding him regularly and giving him his chew bones.
They lay in silence for a long time, enjoying the nearness of each other. She laid her head on his chest, comforted by the rhythmic beating of his heart, and he stroked her hair. She felt loved.
The sun dropped below the tree line, its golden rays making way for the soft light of the moon.
Benjamin trailed his fingertips along the side of her face. “I suppose we should make our way back before it gets dark.”
“Do we have to?” Mia asked, curling tightly against him.
“I need to speak to my father. I haven’t spoken to him much about business since I was injured. Now that I’m better, I want to see if he needs my assistance.”
Reluctantly, Mia rose into a sitting position, so that Benjamin could get up. He rose to his feet and held his hand out to help her up. Benjamin picked up the canteen and the small cloth that held their sandwiches. He whistled for Thunder, who lifted his head and trotted to Benjamin’s side. Benjamin placed the items in the saddlebag and helped Mia fold the blanket, placing it in the saddlebag, too.
He whistled two more times until he had gotten Buttercup’s attention. Slowly, she made her way toward them, and Benjamin closed the gap between them and took her reins. He helped Mia mount, and then he mounted Thunder.
“Race you back,” Mia challenged. She prodded Buttercup into motion, laughing as she got a head start.
She knew when Benjamin finally joined the race. The sound of Thunder’s hooves as he sprinted forward was unmistakable. She knew that Benjamin had given her a head start, and she knew the head start would make no difference. Aptly named, Thunder bolted by her in a matter of minutes.
Ghostly Encounter (Ghostly #1) (Ghostly Series) Page 15
