Dances Naked by Dani Haviland Read Free Book Online Page B

a wink.
    “Hmph!” Grant grunted then walked away, sweeping his right arm out in a gesture of defiance, using it like a scythe to slice through the laundry bush laden with clouts. He was mad that they couldn’t travel right away. And , with two big men living here , he couldn’t do anything about it except leave without her.
    It didn’t seem like he wanted to do that though. I watched him as he sulked away from the house. Rachel was apparently of value to him, an asset of some sort. Why else would he stay and wait for her to recover? I doubt that it was because he cared for her but I suppose that coul d be a possibility. Yeah, right! T hat self-centered , oversized , gimme-gimme ingrate cared for no one but himself. She was his trump card for sure but for what game I had no idea. Hopefully , it wasn’t one that would bring harm to her or the baby.
    Ж
    Yesterday I finally got a chance to write my letter to Leah. I had figured out how to send a letter from now, 1781, to an acquaintance in the 21 st century. I’m sure James Melbourne, the enchanting young man I met the day I first interacted with Simon, th e master time traveler, would forward the letter to my daughter in North Carolina.  I’d send a request to my husband’s Uncle Tony, also a Melbourne, to hold my letter there in London, not to be read until November 1, 2011.That would be the day after I disappeared, fell off a time portal cliff and broke my back, got dosed with the Fountain of Youth water, and dev eloped a severe case of amnesia . In the letter, I would tell my daughter where I was and not to worry about me, that she now had a new family and that they were some of the ‘fictional’ characters from the ‘ Lost ’ novels.
    Rachel was resting comfortably, Baby Boy snuggled amidst a rag quilt in one of my handmade bassinet/ laundry basket containers. Wallace was out in the barn showing Jenny how to weave more of them. We were going to have a bumper crop of corn this year and needed more of the smaller containers for temporary storage until we could get it all processed. I didn’t know where Jody was , but Sarah was in the kitchen with me. It was an opportune time to read her my letter and get her opinion about it.
    “This first part is for my friend James. I can send it to him through his family on England, for them to pas s down through the generations. That way he can break it to Leah gently, what happened to me and where I am:
    As of August 4, 2013 , Leah is working at the Moses H. Cone Memorial Hospital in Greensboro, not far from our little cafe. She was, will be, my recovery room nurse. So , if you have a chance to talk to her in person, would you please explain this to her and then let her read this letter.”
    “I hope he gets a chance to meet her in person,” I fantasized a loud. “I think they’d get along great. Hmm, I don’t think I n eed to read all of this to you— it’s kind of personal in places, but here:
    I am alive and well in 1781. I will show up again on August 4, 2013 at the hospital you work in but you will have to let me go back home again to my new family. I have a husband and triplets!”
    “So, what do you think?” I asked after reading the selected parts to her. There was no way I was going to let her read the part that a 21st century lady by the name of Lisa Sinclaire had written biographies about her and Jody that were represented as historical romance novels. I didn’t want to jinx the possibility that those stories would never be written. I think that I would definitely be interfering with the time line continuum thingy if I did that!
    “It sounds like you have all the pertinent information there so James can contact Leah. I’ll write a companion letter and send it with my others. I’ll ask that someone try and get in touch with her and James, too. That’s Moses H. Cone Hospital in Greensboro and August 4, 2013? Wow,” she mumbled, “so far away.” Sarah regained her composure and added, “That is ,