Read Faithfully Yours (The Forever Time Travel Romance Series, Book 1) Online
Authors: Carol A. Spradling
Nothing would set Aidan's world back on course until he found Faith, safe and whole. He wasn't certain if the elderly man knew anything about her disappearance. Aidan's stomach rolled at the thought of Faith being held at the mercy of that man. While Mr. Rhodes seemed old and feeble, a weapon would more than compensate for what he lacked in physical strength and agility. He had been in Aidan's barn, seeming to inspect an area of the building as though he looked for something specific. Aidan shivered as though he faced a deathly future. His neighbor's actions were more than suspicious, especially with his visit occurring within a few hours from when Aidan had last seen Faith.
He glanced once more in the direction Mr. Rhodes had taken when leaving the barn. The route wrapped around the woods, mimicking the bends in the river. The man had returned home on foot. Surely a young gelding and a nearly mad husband could out maneuver an old man with a pronounced limp.
Aidan straightened his back, and looked to the side. His eyes widened as though he discovered a lost treasure. It was odd that he hadn't noticed this impediment when they spoke several weeks ago. His heart faltered, and he stiffened as though struck by lightning. How recent was Mr. Rhodes' injury, and how did he get it? Aidan shouldn't have let him leave his home so easily. He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. If he found any connection to the old man and Faith, the cause for the man's limp would not have time to heal.
Aidan's horse snorted and sidled to the left. He reared his head and pranced. The animal was as anxious to get en route as his rider. Aidan leaned forward, and tightened his knees. Taking off at a gallop, the bay stretched and pawed the ground, throwing large clumps of soil behind them as he ran. Aidan rose up out of the saddle as his horse leaped over a downed log. Once clear of the tree, he crouched low, keeping the reins loose. Giving the animal his head, a slight pull on the bridle would be enough to keep him on course.
Trees and saplings were spread haphazardly throughout the copse. The bay pressed harder, skirting and dodging the foliage with elegant ease. Cool wind and horse's mane whipped Aidan's face as man and beast moved as one. He leaned forward, using the horse's ears for pivot points. He looked only within the limits of the two cones for their route.
Exhilaration rushed through him like a waterfall through fresh snow. The possibility of finding Faith grew with each foot of ground they crossed. Refusing to consider defeat, Aidan was determined to leave the Rhodes' farm with Faith, and not heartbreak. The Rhodes' tobacco fields were less than a mile away, and the way horse and rider sped through the woods, the empty fields should be in sight within minutes. If Mr. Rhodes knew anything about Faith's disappearance, there was no need to give him a chance to hide his secret.
The woods thinned, and the bay broke into the clearing. Aidan pulled back on the reins, bringing the horse to an abrupt stop. Dirt and grass puffed around them along with Aidan's confusion. In front of him, dry tobacco shoots poked sharply from the barren ground. Aidan scanned the property from one side of the meadow to the other. The tobacco fields looked as though they hadn't been turned in years. Mr. Rhodes had been insistent on mixing his crop with Aidan's. Perhaps there was a second field Aidan wasn't aware of. Still...Aidan nudged his horse closer. Mr. Rhodes had promised to take care of Faith if he saw her. If his property was any indication of the kind of care he provided, Aidan had better find her quickly. He shook his head. What could make a man allow his fields to become fallow?
To the other side of the husks, a barn and house stood within several yards of each other. Neither building looked inviting. Aidan nudged his horse out of the shadow and into the sunlight. The animal reared and balked as though he were being led past a burning building. He sniffed the air and snorted. Still not willing to follow Aidan's command, the beast stomped his hooves, and refused to move forward. Aidan gathered the reins in his hand, and stroked his mount's neck.
"Easy. Easy," he said, his voice soothing, yet commanding.
He felt as uneasy about the dwelling as his horse. Other than the look of neglect, there was something unseen about the property that drew him closer, yet simultaneously warned him to stay away. Leaving his home moments ago, he had hoped to find Faith at the Rhodes' farm. Now, more than ever, he had to make sure she wasn't on the premises. Unable to shake the ghastly layer that covered him, he rubbed his hands over his arms, hoping he could remove each droplet of gloom.
Pulling his horse up to the barn, he dismounted. Wind brushed against him, caressing his body like a deathly shadow. There was no smell of death or decay in the area. He forced his feet forward. With each step, the distance to the barn seemed to increase. He glanced over his shoulder and looked to see if Mr. Rhodes was coming within view. He pushed the thought of possibly finding Faith's remains aside and concentrated on finding her alive and well.
Rushing into the barn, he glanced from one side of the building to the other. There were no animals stabled or any feed for them. Old hay, etched with black mildew, lined the stall parameters. Everything within the space indicated the barn workings were as lifeless as the fields. Why would Mr. Rhodes want to strike a bargain when he had no crops? Aidan swallowed and glanced around to see if any of the dirt had been freshly turned over, or if there had been any sign of a scuffle. Nothing appeared disturbed.
He turned to his right and looked outside. His horse waited nervously on the other side of the door. His eyes were wide, and he pranced in place. Aidan rushed from the barn, glancing from the roadway to the house. Mr. Rhodes walked with a pronounced limp. It would take him close to an hour to return home. Aidan and his horse had crossed the river and covered the distance through the woods within minutes. Even with that much of a lead, he didn't want to waste time unnecessarily.
Leaving his horse where he stood, Aidan hurried to the porch. He took the three steps to the landing in one leap. His footsteps pounded the wood as he crossed the warped boards to the door. Reaching for the handle, he stopped moving. The realization of what possibly awaited him on the other side of the entrance doused him like an icy waterfall. He held to the knob, but took a moment to prepare himself for what he might find.
Faith could be in there, but would she be alive? A worse thought niggled at him. Would she be the woman he had held in his arms and made love to all night, or would she be an older version of herself? He inhaled deeply, hoping to bolster his confidence, twisted the handle, and barged in without knocking. It didn't matter to him what age Faith was. She was his wife, and he wouldn't live without her.
The stagnant odors of dirt and mildew lingered in the room, filling his nose and throat. Aidan's imagination jumped to a variety of conclusions. After mentally charging past images of Faith being tortured or injured, he accepted the dank and dismal smell. He could only hope that she was hidden away in a smelly room and uncomfortable. His shoulders flexed and his arms tensed. He was a man in need of a fight but so far, he had no enemy to confront. The gloom surrounding him seemed to be the only way he could clear his pessimistic thoughts. Leaning against the front of the door, he propped the entryway open with his shoulder. If there was any breeze coming in from the river, he would need it to cleanse more than the air in this room.
Aidan coughed into his hand and glanced over the top of his cupped fingers. To his right, his gaze followed the sunbeam, which floated ethereally through the torn curtain and onto the kitchen table. Lint and dust particles drifted across the shaft, landing delicately on the soiled layers of neglect. A mouse scurried down the table leg, and through a crack in the wall. The rodent couldn't have carried anything to eat in his mouth. The house looked as though it had been empty for several years.
A peculiar sensation touched Aidan's shoulders. He turned toward the feeling, half hoping to see Faith standing next to him. A smile already spread across his face in anticipation. His heart pumped harder, and his throat went dry. Searching the space next to him, the corners of his mouth drooped, and his shoulders sagged. Tears blurred his vision. His head fell to his chest, along with his hopes. He shook his head, refusing to accept anything but Faith, alive and well, and in his arms. He would not give up on her, no matter how desperately the thought nudged him to do so. He lifted his head and looked around. There had to be a clue amongst the rubble he stood in.
The area looked as though it hadn't been used any more recently than the barn or the fields. Cobwebs hung from each corner of the room in a thick, latticework design. The unattached ends swung loosely near an overturned cup. Like a bear waking from hibernation, a spider climbed out from the inside of the tin.
Aidan walked further into the room. The fireplace box lay cold and empty. From the dirt covering leftover charred logs, it was easy to see that no warmth had penetrated the hearth in many years. A door on the other side of the stone mantle closed off a second room. He swallowed hard, and tried to remove the thought of Faith being held in this house for any length of time. He pushed the door open and peered inside.
A bed was placed under the window with a dresser on the far wall. He sighed, Faith was nowhere in the vicinity. He didn't know if he was relieved or heartbroken to have not found her. He walked to the bed and sat on the mattress edge. "Where are you, Faith?" he whispered.
His foot slid forward, pulling a piece of fabric out from under the bed. Bending over, he lifted the frock into the open and held it by the shoulders. Although it was her size, it was not a dress he had seen Faith wear. He looked to the window. What was he doing? Did he expect to find her in a back room in the Rhodes home? The only thing he knew for certain was that he held a woman's garment in his hands. There was no indication who it had been made for or who had worn it. He held the cloth limply in his hands. Something metallic fell between his legs and landed on the floor. A silver ring lay at the toe of his boot. He picked up the band and raised it to eye level. Faith's wedding ring glinted over at him. His heart sped up, and he caught his breath. She had been here, but her ring was all he could find of her. He clutched his fist, wanting to keep a tight hold on the only thing he could find of her.
Dry mouthed, he made his way outside, and clutched the stair post. He gulped air and tried to keep himself upright. Needing to wet his parched throat, he glanced around the yard. The well stood to the right of the porch. There was no pump, but a bucket had to be nearby. He stumbled toward it. If Faith wasn't here, there was no other place to look.
Loose stones shifted at the top of the column. The water source was no more cared for than the rest of the farm. Aidan leaned over the hole and looked to see if water still flowed into the basin. Although leaves covered the ground, a few unearthed fragments protruded out of the debris. Aidan leaned further in. Near the wall, a skull-like object lay on top of flat bones. His world shifted off kilter, nearly toppling him into the abyss. What was it Faith had told him?
I died forty years ago.
He glanced back down at the skinless face. The lower jaw was no longer attached, but the hollow orbs where two eyes were once perched, looked up at him. He couldn't imagine crystal blue eyes peering up at him with the same intensity she had used last night. He pushed back away from the well. Sweat poured over him. There was no indication that it was Faith, but considering her absence and the discovery of her wedding ring in the Rhodes' bedroom. Who else could it be?
"That well is empty," a voice said from behind him.
Aidan hurled around. His stare was deadly. "Dry, perhaps, but not empty."
Chapter 28
The sole of Faith's shoe slipped against the brittle edges of the stone wall. Her body swung above the ground like a pendulum, and her shoulder slammed into the well wall. She grunted. Buffering her head, she braced herself for the ricochet off of the other side. Swinging to a slow stop, she dangled precariously above the well floor, hanging in a similar manner to the tobacco leaves she hung from the barn rafters year after year.
She still didn't trust Hank, but she had accepted the rope he had dropped down next to her. Tied somewhere at the top of the well, the line had seemed secure when she started her ascent. She had bounced and tugged on the lifeline while still close enough to touch the ground. Even though he had provided a way for her to climb to the surface, he had not supplied a reason for her to believe she would return to ground level without injury. The climb up would give her a few added minutes to consider how she could return to Aidan.
Faith kicked her legs, freeing the skirt tangled around her calves, and reached her foot for a divot in the wall. A large enough toe-hold would provide her with a good place to push herself upward. Her shoe grazed the stones, missing her intended target. "Dammit," she said. Her words echoed back to her. Her back bounced off of the opposite wall, and she pushed herself forward. The last thing she needed was to be left suspended in mid-air without being able to reach any firm surface. Hank had not offered any help except for the rope. She was certain he would leave her to fall back into the well. Blood trickled down her wrists. Her hands would not survive a second attempt.