The Sapphire Brooch Katherine Logan (best beach reads TXT) 📖

Elliott crossed one leg over the other, rested his ankle on his knee, and tugged on the hem of his trousers. “What do ye want from me?”

Braham sat back and rested his hands casually on the arms of the chair. “To borrow the ruby brooch and return to my time.”

“I can’t help ye.”

“I think ye can. The brooch seems to take people and return them to the same place, but in a different time. If I use the ruby brooch here, on MacKlenna Farm, then I should show up on the farm in 1864. If so, all I have to do is make sure Sean MacKlenna returns the brooch to its hiding place”—Braham pointed to the desk across the room—“inside yer desk.”

Elliott dropped his leg and leaned forward, pressing both hands on his knees as though to emphasize the importance of what he was about to say. “What ye’re asking for is not the same as asking to borrow my car. There could be repercussions. I’ll have to take those potential repercussions into consideration.”

Braham willed himself to relax, to maintain his composure, but irritation slipped out. “Doctor Fraser. I’m Kit’s first cousin. Which makes me yer wife’s cousin, too—”

“I’m well aware of the relationship.”

Elliott’s statement hung in the air.

Braham had practiced his speech for seven hours and it fell apart in less than five minutes. “This is a family matter,” Braham said. “I need yer help. President Lincoln is waiting for—and desperately needs—the information I have.”

“It will take ye weeks to get to Washington,” Elliott said.

“Two and a half days by train. I should have been back two weeks ago. I can’t afford any more delays.”

“Give me a couple of hours. Let me talk to my wife—”

The woman Braham had seen on the winery’s website when he had gone back and searched for Elliott’s phone number entered the room holding hands with a wee lad dressed like his father in tan pants and a green shirt.

“About what?” she asked.

Both men stood. The toddler ran to Elliott. “Daddy, I took a long nap. I want to ride my pony now.”

Elliott wrapped the boy in his arms with a hug. “Good laddie.” He turned to Braham, smiling. “This is my son, James Cullen MacKlenna Fraser, and my wife, Meredith.”

Smiling, Braham ruffled the wee lad’s mop of brown hair. Then he shook hands with Meredith. She was a striking woman, with Cullen’s black hair and blue eyes. Tall and lithe, she projected a gentle, trustworthy spirit, and he liked her instantly.

“Braham McCabe,” he said.

Meredith eyed him quizzically. “Your name seems familiar.”

A young man came to the door. “Is James Cullen ready for his riding lesson?”

“Kebin.” The lad’s big brown eyes opened wider with excitement. He wiggled to get down and ran toward the man, who picked him up and twirled him around. “I ride Little Stormy.”

“Okay, but tell Mommy and Daddy good-bye.”

“Thanks, Kevin,” Elliott said while the boy waved. “We’ll be out in a few minutes to see ye ride, Cullen.”

Meredith sat on the footstool in front of Elliott’s chair. “Sit down, please, Mr. McCabe, and tell me how you came to be here.”

Elliott rubbed her shoulders. “By way of the sapphire brooch.”

Meredith clapped. “Really? It brought you here? To MacKlenna Farm?”

“No, to Richmond, Virginia.”

“You’re Kit’s cousin, right?” She glanced around the room. “Where’s the woman?”

“Who said anything about a woman?” Elliott asked.

“Of course, there’s a woman. The legacy of the three brooches says the magic in the stones unites soul mates. If Braham hasn’t met her yet, he will.”

“I can tell ye emphatically the doctor who rescued me and brought me to this time is not my soul mate.” Braham had intentionally ignored all thoughts concerning the brooches’ legacy. It would cloud his judgment at a time when hard decisions needed to be made.

“He hasn’t mentioned a woman, Mer,” Elliott said.

Meredith smiled. “Only because you haven’t asked. But I’m asking. There is a woman, isn’t there? Who is she?”

Braham nodded, the muscle jumping in the side of his jaw. “There’s no doubt in my mind ye’re Cullen Montgomery’s great-great-something-granddaughter.”

“Six, I think.” She merely smiled at him, showing her dimple and a crease in her forehead which reminded Braham even more of his friend. “The surgeon who rescued you,” Meredith continued, “must be the woman. What does she look like?”

“She has wild, curly blond hair and deep blue eyes and she wears god-awful clothes she calls scrubs. She’s small and very opinionated.”

“Aha,” Meredith said. “You’re already in love with her?”

Braham’s jaw dropped. “No. I barely know her. And unlike yer sire, I didn’t take advantage of Charlotte the way Cullen took advantage of Kit.”

Meredith belted out a laugh. Then she grew solemn. “If you’re Kit’s cousin, it means you’re mine, too.”

Braham reached for her hand, took it between his own, and held it lightly. “Will ye help me get home?”

She maintained eye contact while placing her other hand on top of his and patting it gently. Then she withdrew both of her hands. “I came late to this conversation. I don’t know how you got here or how we can help you go back.”

“He wants to borrow the ruby brooch,” Elliott said.

“I vote you give it to him,” she said. “He can leave it with Sean MacKlenna.”

“Which is what I suggested, but Doctor Fraser wants to think about it.”

Meredith got to her feet, leaned over Elliott’s chair, and kissed him. “If Elliott wants to think about it, he has a good reason. I need to go watch James Cullen’s riding lesson. I’ll let you men talk, and I’ll catch up on the conversation during cocktails.”

She left the room, closing the door behind her.

Braham finished his drink and took the empty glass to the bar. “Talking to her is like having a conversation with Cullen. They are very much alike.”

Elliott stood. “Come on. Let me show ye around the farm, and ye can tell me about Kit. How many children does she have now?”

“She was carrying her fourth when I