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

Braham opened his hand to reveal the ruby brooch.

Sean’s jaw dropped. “Kit’s brooch? How’d ye get it?”

“It’s a long story,” Braham said.

“Then we need whisky.” He threw his arm across Braham’s shoulders and directed him out of the room. “I heard birthing the last bairn was difficult for Kit. Heard she told Cullen to stay away from her or she was going home.”

Braham laughed. “I doubt she held to the threat for very long.”

As the two men walked down the hall, Braham glanced up the stairs, remembering the glorious weeks he spent here in 1852, and then again in 1858. “Where’s Lyle Anne?”

“Resting. She’ll be happy to see ye again.” He turned to Joe. “Tell Sukey we’ve company for dinner.”

“Yes, suh, Mistah Sean.” Joe shuffled toward the back of the house, mumbling, “Yankee Major. Trouble comin’. Sur’ ’nuff.”

The masculine leather furniture in Sean’s office hadn’t been changed since Braham’s previous visit. The surface of the large, burnished mahogany desk was unsullied by papers or knickknacks. The shelved books in the cases were lined up flush with the edges. The trees outside the windows were kept clipped back to avoid interfering with the expansive view of the paddocks. So different, yet so similar to the look of Elliott’s office.

Braham placed the brooch on the top of the desk. As he took away his hand, a chill hit him. He quickly clasped his hands behind his back. “I told Elliott I’d make sure the brooch was placed back inside the desk. I don’t want my actions to interfere with Kit’s future.”

Sean reached into the center drawer, pushed the hidden lever, and the compartment popped open, revealing the rosewood box. He placed the brooch inside and closed the desk’s secret pocket. “When ye see him, ye can let him know ye fulfilled yer obligation.”

Braham gave Sean a direct look, while his gut tightened involuntarily. “I won’t ever see him again.”

“I canna believe it,” Sean said. “Let’s sit, and ye can tell me how ye got to the future to begin with, and what brought ye here.”

Once the men were settled in chairs by the fire with drinks in hand, Braham began his recitation, leaving nothing out except the primary reason Charlotte had refused to bring him back. Sean had made it clear years earlier he didn’t want to hear anything about the future.

Sean listened attentively, his chin resting pensively on his hand. “Both ye and Cullen turned down the chance to live in the twenty-first century. Was there nothing to hold ye there? Not even the love of a bonny lass?”

Braham sipped his drink, preparing to deny having any feelings for Charlotte. He cleared his throat. “Charlotte Mallory is a beautiful, intelligent woman.”

Sean cocked an eyebrow. “And…”

Braham breathed in and out slowly to loosen the tightening knot in his throat. He propped his elbows on his knees, and after some more throat-clearings and hemmings and hawings, said, “I know the stone’s legacy, but this situation is not the same as Cullen and Kit’s.”

“Once the stone’s power touches ye, fighting the magic is useless. My great-great-grandmother shared the mystery with my father. Auld granny said, ‘The stone will take ye to a world unknown, through amber light to a time not yer own, to the one of yer heart, and the truth ye’ll be shown.’”

Braham dropped his head, shaking it and feeling his thoughts slosh around truths he preferred to ignore. Charlotte might come after him. If she did, the magic would weave its spell, and they might surrender to its sweet promise. But the promise could never be fulfilled in their case.

“There has to be a way to resist the magic before hearts are broken. I have no passion for living in the future, and Charlotte’s passion is for twenty-first-century medicine. She would never give it up. It was different with Kit. She knew she belonged in this time.”

Sean refilled both their glasses. “Being born in a time doesn’t mean ye belong there. Remember, when the stone weaves its magic, it reveals the truth.”

“Nonsense.” Braham heard the gravel in his voice. He took a big gulp of whisky. “I need to get back to Washington.”

“I’ll take ye to the Lexington railroad terminal in the morning. From there ye can catch the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad to Washington City, assuming the Federals have control of the lines along the way. Several weeks back, Mosby derailed a Union train on the Baltimore and Ohio at Harpers Ferry and made off with a large payroll. They’re calling it the Greenback Raid.”

Braham flinched. “What’s today’s date?”

“23 November 1864. How long have ye been gone?”

“Five weeks. The president will believe I’m dead.”

Sean steepled his fingers and tapped them at the tips. “Then he’ll rejoice to learn ye’re not. Do ye want to send him a telegram?”

Braham shook his head. “I can’t explain how I disappeared from the hospital in Richmond and then ended up in Kentucky. I’ll wait until I return to Washington and tell him I’ve been holed up in Virginia until I was well enough to travel.”

“Under the circumstances, I believe it’s a wise decision.”

A gunshot shattered a window in the office and crashed into a tea set on the table, scattering sharp fragments onto the Oriental rug. Stacked books toppled over, and Braham and Sean dropped to the floor.

Braham drew his revolvers. “What the hell’s going on?”

Sean peeked over the edge of the sofa, his face white, eyes wide. “Deserters been causing trouble lately. I thought they were farther north.”

A barrage of gunfire splintered the front door and pinged against the brick. The glass in two windows in the office exploded. Sean ducked.

Braham’s heart pounded against his ribs so hard he thought they’d crack. He was battle-hardened. Why was he reacting like a raw recruit?

Gutshot once, battle leery forever.

This wouldn’t do at all. He wiped away the sweat streaming down his forehead and into his eyes, clouding his vision. He was a trained soldier. This was like getting back on a horse after a fall.