“Her mother? Don’t you share the same mother?”
Emily shook her head. “My mother died in childbirth while birthing me. Father married Margaret when I was three.”
“I see—so Charlotte is a half-sister,” I said, guiding my horse toward a copse of trees and the sound of water.
“Yes, but Papa and Margaret doted over Charlotte. She was born a sickly child, and they almost lost her, so they always tried to protect her.”
“I’m sorry, Emily. It sounds like you haven’t had the easiest life.”
Emily’s shoulders rose and fell. “I learned early on not to complain. Charlotte did that enough for both of us. I always tried to keep my nose down and help Margaret with the cooking, cleaning, and washing. Whatever needed to be done.”
Emily had a good attitude.
We approached a meadow near a babbling brook.
“This might be a good place to rest our horses and ourselves. I’m exhausted,” I said.
“Me, too. I can barely keep my eyes open.”
I halted my horse and slid from its back as Emily did the same. I untied one end of the rope from the halter and affixed it loosely to a tree. The horse could still escape if needed but would be fooled into thinking he was restrained.
The horses got busy eating the sweet grass.
I flopped on my back in the meadow.
“How are your burns?” Emily asked, settling beside me.
“I don’t want to look yet. They hurt, but I’m trying not to pay them any attention.” I propped myself on my elbows and gazed at the creek which meandered between the banks. As soon as I rested, I would take a dip and get clean. “So, what was your father like when you were growing up?”
“Oh, he always seemed to carry a lot of secrets. I wondered if he was up to no good when I discovered a pile of weapons in the barn. But I’ve wrestled with this knowledge, desperate to see him as a good man. Margaret never pressed him, but I could see the strain it put on her. As far as I could discern, he’d disappear at odd times and return hours later without telling her anything. I think that’s why she poured so much of her attention into Charlotte, cooing and fussing over her. Margaret was miserable in her marriage.”
“Why do you refer to her in the past tense?”
“She died a couple of years ago. She caught the consumption. After that, Charlotte became even needier. It was up to me to see to her needs since Papa was mostly absent. I hated it.” She pursed her lips and stared into space.
Consumption was what we called tuberculosis in the 21stcentury. “That must have been awful.”
Her gaze slid toward me, then flitted away. “It wasn’t that bad when Margaret was alive. In a way, it’s a blessing that Charlotte died, too. I would have had to shoulder the burden of her care.” Her eyes widened in horror, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I can’t believe I just said that. God will smite me down.”
“All you did was say the truth, Emily. If Charlotte had lived, we would have done our best to care for her.”
Emily lay down beside me and looked up at the blue sky. “So, that’s my story. What about yours?”
I studied a wispy cloud as it meandered overhead. How much could I reveal to her, given that I came from a different century? Well, two centuries now, if I wanted to be precise.
“There’s not much to tell. I lost my family, too. Both my mother and my father were killed.”
Emily gasped. “Olivia! That’s awful!”
I turned to face her, resting my head on my elbow. “It was heartbreaking. I’ve lost everyone close to me. Even the man I loved.”
One lone tear escaped and dripped from the side of my nose.
“Oh, dear!’ Emily turned to face me and patted my hand. “You poor thing! So you know tragedy, too. Was he killed, also?”
More tears trickled from my eyes. “I don’t know where he is. We got separated on our journey. I miss him with all my heart.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet that you found true love!”
