Letters in Time, Reiss Susan [read me a book TXT] 📗

I knew Daniel was eager to connect, but why was Emma agitated? “It says that she was the wife of Joshua. Do you know that name?”

“He married into the family. Emma was the daughter of the plantation owner back then. My aunt did some genealogical work on the family tree and, if I remember correctly, Joshua was the son of another local landowner. That marriage complicated the lines of inheritance regarding the Waterwood lands. I don’t remember the details. If you’re truly interested, I could check the library at the house and see what is there.”

“Oh yes, that would be wonderful.”

“I’ll let you know what I find.” TJ pulled his keys out of his jeans pocket.

I didn’t want to leave. Not yet. “Before we go,” I said quickly. “Could you see if there is another name in the cemetery? Is there a Daniel here?”

TJ gave me a puzzled look then made his way around the stones, checking the names.  “Who is this Daniel? Do you have a last name?”

“Oh, I came across some of his letters in my research.” It wasn’t a lie. I wasn’t doing all my research in the Maryland Room at the library. I hoped TJ wouldn't ask for specifics.

“No, I don’t see that name anywhere.” He was standing in a grassy area without any markers. There were two small tree stumps cut close to the ground. “I have no idea who is buried over here.”

“But wouldn’t the church have burial records?”

"This is a private family cemetery. The records were kept by the family. Somebody misplaced them."

“Maybe nobody is buried there,” I said, hoping to hide my disappointment.

“I think the area inside the wall is pretty full. The modern graves are outside the wall. Some of my ancestors don’t have markers.”

“Why not?”

“It was once considered bad luck to place a gravestone for someone dearly departed, even if it was for a member of the family.”

“Why?  Wasn’t it a sign of respect to mark someone’s grave?” I asked.

He shook his head. “There was an old superstition that if you placed a gravestone for someone, you would be the next to die.”

“That’s creepy.”

“Well, if you can’t have superstitions in a graveyard, where can you have them?” He pointed to the old tree stumps. “I guess these might be a sign of another old tradition of burying a person with something like a walnut in his mouth in the hope that a tree would grow to mark the person’s final resting place naturally. I guess these trees didn’t last.”

That story made me shiver. I felt the first twinges of PTSD starting. I had come too close to needing a grave marker. “I think you’re right. I think it’s time to go.”

As we made our way back to the truck, I thanked TJ for bringing me to his family cemetery but said no more. I had come in search of Daniel and found a troubling mystery.

As we drove up to the Cottage, TJ cleared his throat as if he had something to say but was reluctant to say it. “Ah, is it possible for you to reschedule your P.T. appointment for tomorrow morning?  Something has come up and I won’t be able to drive you until after lunch.”

“That’s okay, I have someone else I can call. I don't think it will be a problem." I hid my smile of pride that I was taking another small step to controlling my life.

He frowned.  “Who is that?”

“Stephani. Remember I met her at the library?” Of course, he did, I thought as I remembered his reaction at seeing her. “She said if I ever needed a ride, I should let her know. If it’s a problem, I’ll reschedule the appointment. It’s not a problem. Thanks again for bringing me to your family’s cemetery today. It was interesting in more ways than one.” I flashed him a big smile.

“You’re welcome.”

When we arrived back at the Cottage, I remembered something. “You will let me know if you find any information about Emma or Joshua at your house?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so interested, but I’ll take a look tonight.”

I watched him drive off and turned to work my way inside.  Slow and steady. Slow and steady, I murmured to myself when the front door burst open and Maria welcomed me home.

“Hello!  I was worried when I didn’t find you here when I came. I looked all over the Cottage, on the patio, everywhere! Then I figured that you must be at your physical therapy appointment or out with Mr. TJ. I’ve been getting my work done.” She took a breath in relief. “But I must say, I was really glad to see you getting out of his truck.”

I knew it was important for Maria to think I was getting stronger or I’d have someone else trying to baby me. It felt so good to sit down at the kitchen table. I would never admit that the trip to the cemetery was more demanding than a P.T. appointment, but it had been worth it. Maria fussed around the kitchen and I enjoyed a wonderful lunch on the patio that helped rebuild my strength. I don’t know where Mr. Saffire found her, but she was a gem.

Maria slid the patio door open and came out, holding a tall, chilled glass of milky liquid. “I brought you something special because I know how much you like coffee, but it’s too humid to have hot coffee in this afternoon heat, so I thought I’d bring you a surprise.”

She put the glass down on the table in front of me, beads of condensation running down the side. It was a magnificent glass of iced coffee.

“Wonderful!” I took a sip and relished the