Garden of Time

By Sharon Ricklin

Emma Lee Parkinson’s life appears to be perfect. She’s young and beautiful and lives in an elegant high-rise condominium with her rich, handsome husband. Her closet is full of designer clothes, shoes, and purses. Dining at elegant restaurants, attending cocktail parties or upscale gala events are typical nights out on the town for her. Luxurious vacations are taken at least twice a year. This life of leisure allows Emma to pursue personal interests as well. She loves shopping for antiques, strolling through art galleries, museums, and furthering her own artistic skills with painting classes. Who could ask for more? But appearances can be deceiving. Emma hates her life. With a passion. Intimidated by a deep, dark secret, she lives in a constant state of dread. Battered, abused, and even threatened with death, she’s often on the edge of panic. Paralyzed by fear, she’s certain there’s no way out. Until the day she attempts to hang her latest find – a painting so enchanting that she buys it on a whim. Little does she know... this painting will change her life forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sharon Ricklin
• Release date: Nov 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311730985

Sharon Ricklin

Sharon Ricklin grew up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and always knew she wanted to be a writer. She's had many titles in her life, including: wife, mother, grandmother, medical assistant, ranch-hand, and teacher. While still home-schooling her youngest son - she finally started writing. However, after finishing her first romance novel, circumstances in life forced her to set the book aside for a few years...No longer working full time and having an empty nest, (and no more excuses) she decided to get to work on editing that novel. Little did she know, her muse had other ideas. A fantastically vivid dream forced her to set that book aside, yet again. This dream gave birth to the Ravenswynd Series, and the muse hasn't shut up since. (After finishing her paranormal Ravenswynd Series, she did finally get that first novel published and (Song of Memory) is available.Sharon is a member of Romance Writer's of America (RWA), Wisconsin Romance Writers, (WisRWA) the author of two blogs, and involved in several Writer's Groups.Now living in Racine, Wisconsin, Sharon is working on another time-travel novel, tentative title: Island of Time.Her other 3 time-travel (romance) novels, River of Time, Garden of Time, and Frozen in Time are stand-alone novels - NOT a series.

Book preview

GARDEN OF TIME

SHARON RICKLIN

Shara † Basha Publishing

Other Titles by Sharon Ricklin

The Ravenswynd Series (Paranormal Romance)

Ravenswynd Legends

Ravenswynd Dreams

Ravenswynd Visions

Ravenswynd Destinies

River of Time (Time Travel Romance)

Song of Memory (Contemporary Romance)

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission from the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Book Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers.com/yvonrz 

Copyright © 2015 Sharon Ricklin

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

This book is dedicated to

H.G.Wells, Charles Dickens, Richard Matheson,

Audrey Niffenegger, Michael Crichton,

and Diana Gabaldon.

Guess what they all have in common.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The author’s profound gratitude to:

My editor, B.J. Secklin and

My Beta-readers, Laurel & Charlotte

Whose helpful suggestions and encouraging critiques

are appreciated more than they’ll ever know.

I will be forever grateful to my small, but enthusiastic group of fans who cheer me on with their rave and colorful reviews on

Goodreads, Amazon, and Facebook.

∞

A special mention of Lee K. Parkinson

Whose beautiful painting, Springtime of Life, inspired this novel.

A Note From the Author

This is a story about a blended family and a beautiful piece of artwork. A lovely painting, to be exact. As you follow the journey of the painting, you’ll see that it adorned the walls of several homes and businesses through the years and had an assortment of owners, some of whom appreciated its captivating qualities, others who paid very little attention to it at all.

True believers claim that it’s magical; skeptics say that it’s just a colorful piece of canvas.

You’ll have to decide for yourself.

Art is a deception that creates real emotions - a lie that creates a truth. And when you give yourself over to that deception, it becomes magic.

~ Marco Tempest ~

PROLOGUE

∞

STEPPING INTO THE CIRCLE

1859 - Boone, Iowa

The painting was near and dear to the heart of the sweet frontier woman. Her husband hung it over their mantle, and there it remained for the next 13 years. During those years it brought much joy to the entire family; the frontier couple, his two daughters, and their son.

When the oldest daughter moved out east to go to college, (quite a rare thing in those days), she wrote home telling how much she missed the painting. Everyone looked forward to the days when this daughter would return home for good, but as luck would have it, she met her future husband in New York, and they made plans to move to Boston where they both had other relatives and friends from school.

Sadness filled the hearts of everyone concerned, but the frontier woman recognized the critical juncture that could not be overlooked.

1872 - Boston, Massachusetts

When the family made the trip back east for the wedding, she cocooned the painting in heavy wrapping paper lined with a thick quilt, and gave it to the young couple for their wedding gift. When they opened the package, the young man looked pleased, but the young lady jumped with delight. Growing up in their country home with it hanging above the fireplace, she was able to experience it every day, and now she could hang it in her new house as a constant reminder of her childhood. She stood at once and thanked her parents with tender embraces and tears of joy.

Before the family left for home, the frontier woman took the young lady aside and told her about the painting. She also made her promise that as long as she lived in Boston, it should remain there with her, and eventually it had to be passed down to the next generation. She gave the daughter explicit instructions, saying that she was not to divulge the details until the time that the painting would be passed on. Holding her hands, she made the young lady swear that she would keep this promise, and with tears of trustfulness, the young lady swore her oath. She accepted the facts at face value, and believed that the painting was indeed, magical.

As the years passed by, the young couple had children of their own, and when the time came for her to pass it on, she did. However, she was met with much skepticism from her daughter, Liliana, and they had a heated argument about it. Eventually, her daughter was persuaded to accept the painting, but being doubtful about its magical qualities, Liliana stored it up in a spare room until she passed it onto her daughter, Eloise. Relaying the farfetched story to her daughter, however, made her cringe, but she stayed true to her promise and was relieved to be rid of it. She never dreamed that Eloise would become a believer, since she had also kept the painting carefully wrapped up in her attic for decades.

December, 1988 – Boston, Mass.

Be careful! Eloise shouted from the front porch. That painting is over a hundred years old!

The burly man frowned as he righted the package in his gloved hands. He’d almost dropped it while slipping on the snow-covered sidewalk and landing with a hip-shattering thud on his rear end. Lucky for him, he was fifty pounds overweight, with most of the extra padding exactly where he’d landed.

Sorry, ma’am, he said, lifting it up above his head, as though he’d fallen waist-deep in water. He stood and brushed himself off while keeping a firm hold on the slippery object, wondering how she could tell one brown-wrapped item from another. He’d already brought several inside the house, all the while under the watchful eyes of the thin, old woman.

Watching him approach, she brushed some stray wisps of white hair from her forehead. I’m sorry, she said, "but I’ll take this one in myself. Eloise yanked it from his hands the moment his boot hit the top step. Even though she was mumbling under her breath and turned to go inside, he heard her say she should have hired the other moving company. The man shook his head and lumbered back to the big truck, cussing to himself.

She stepped inside, wiped her shoes off on the throw rug, and examined the package. With a quick shiver of relief, she weaved her way through all the boxes and into the living room, paused to look for an empty spot, and finally set the painting down on top of the sofa. Surely it will be safe here, she whispered to herself. As long as no one plants their wet ass on top of it!

As she carefully removed the brown paper to make sure it was still in once piece, she thought about its age and how fragile it must be. She had spent years wondering why her grandmother had been so adamant about keeping the painting in the family, and why her mother had never bothered to hang the stupid thing up. When her mother finally passed it onto her, along with the story of the painting, she too kept it safely tucked in a corner of her attic, too afraid to hang it up. She had every intention to keep her promise to pass it on to her son, Joseph, but just thinking about the incredible story behind the painting gave her the chills.

As she stood gazing at it, she recalled the conversation she’d overheard her grandmother and mother having after her younger brother was born. The reason she recalled it so clearly was because her grandmother, a woman who never raised her voice at all, had sounded so firm and resolute while arguing with Eloise’s mother. She could still hear the shrill sound of her grandmother’s voice as she yelled. Of course, being quite young at the time, Eloise could not grasp the importance of the painting. Years later her mother finally explained it in greater detail after Eloise had given birth to her son, Joseph. Of course, she could see that her mother didn’t believe a word of the story.

Ma! We’re here! Joseph yelled, interrupting her thoughts.

It’s about time, the old woman called, turning to the sound of her only son’s voice.

Sorry we couldn’t be here sooner, Ma, but the traffic was terrible, he said as he came and gave her a welcoming hug. Milling around in the hallway, she spotted his wife Shelly and their two teenaged kids, Corinda and Joe Jr. As they all took off their coats and hats, Joseph said, I’m so glad you decided to move in with us. It’ll be a good new start for you, now that dad’s gone. He took a quick scan of the room full of boxes. Is this everything?

Nodding, Eloise gave him a grin, now thinking of her husband of fifty-four years. Losing him had been hard, but time had softened the blow somewhat. Six months earlier, she never would have imagined how much her life would change. Yes, this is it, she announced. After the estate sale, this is all that’s left. The movers already set the bed up in the spare room. But I didn’t want them traipsing up and down the stairs with their wet feet. Besides, I thought we could put the boxes up in the attic after I sort through them. I’d like to find a few nick knacks to put in my room. She turned towards Joseph’s wife. You don’t mind, do you Shelly?

Oh, heavens no! You can hang anything in there that you want, Mom. We want you to feel at home here. Shelly came closer and gave her mother-in-law a warm embrace. I’m off of work tomorrow; I’ll help you get everything organized if you like. She paused and stood back; her hands still firmly planted on Eloise’s shoulders and said, I can’t imagine this is easy for you. Having to put so much up in storage and selling your house after all those years.

Well, if it wasn’t for my arthritis and fading eyesight, I’d still be able to keep up with all the housework. I might be close to 90, but I’m no quitter, that’s for sure. As the words escaped her mouth, she was reminded again of her grandmother. That woman was no quitter either. Eloise remembered sitting on her lap, listening to stories of the Civil war and the great President Lincoln. Her Memaw was a wonderful woman, and taught her children and grandchildren the importance of family and hard work. She also encouraged them to follow their hearts, even if it meant taking them far from home. After all, Memaw followed her dreams, moved from the Midwest, and attended Cornell University in New York where she met her future husband, and eventually moved to his hometown of Boston. Her grandmother’s positive influence had stayed with her all her life.

Now thinking back, Eloise mused about how funny it was that memories from so long ago can seem like just yesterday, and the older she got, the clearer some of those memories became.

Grandma! Guess what? Corinda interrupted her thoughts. But Eloise beamed, happy to see her granddaughter. She was turning into a lovely young lady, and nearly finished with high school.

What is it, dear? Eloise asked as she took Cory’s hand in hers.

"Remember my girlfriend, Ellen? The one who lives next door? She had her baby on September 11th! It’s a darling little girl, and she’s so cute!"

Eloise shook her head. What a day we’re living in, she thought to herself. Girls having babies out of wedlock left and right. Well, just remember young lady, she said with a hand on her hip. You promised your folks that you’d give college a try before you settle down and start a family.

Oh Grannie! I don’t even have a steady boyfriend yet! Cory’s face took on a pinkish hue and she grinned. But I promised Ellen that I’d babysit tonight so she can get a night away with her boyfriend. She’s almost positive that he’s going to propose! Isn’t it exciting?

Eloise had all she could do to keep her mouth shut. That’s nice of you, Corinda. And for that child’s sake, I hope your friend does get married. Children need a mother and a father!

I know, Gramma, she said with a sigh. Hoping to divert a long lecture she quickly added, I was thinking maybe you’d like to see the baby.

Corinda, your grandmother needs some rest, Shelly said, eyeing all the boxes. She’s had a big day, you know. Turning to her son, she said, Joey, could you help your dad get all these boxes put upstairs for Grandma while I start supper.

Joe Jr. was home on his winter break; his first semester had been brutal and he was happy to get some time off. He was a big strapping boy of 19, and hoisted up two boxes at once, saying, Sure, Mom, no problem. He ran up the stairs before Eloise could stop him.

With a resigned shrug, she sat on the sofa next to the painting and looked up at Cory. What time are you babysitting, dear?

After supper, she said with a grin.

I’d love to see that baby. But the sidewalks are so slippery. I don’t think I should take the chance of falling and breaking my hip. Eloise rolled her eyes and added, Again.

"Oh, that’s okay, Grannie. They’re bringing the baby over here. I guess that grandma needs a night off as much as Ellen does, so I offered."

Eloise glanced over to see Joseph’s reaction, but he’d already left, apparently helping his son take the boxes up to the attic. You’re a good friend, Cory. Ellen is sure lucky to have you right next door.

Just then Shelly called from the kitchen. Cory, come give me a hand setting the table!

Cory rolled her eyes, but her grandmother gave her a stern look, and she made an about-face and joined her mother. Eloise sighed. She’d miss the peace and quiet of her own home, but it would be nice to have meals with her family instead of always eating alone. And after the news her doctor gave her, she figured she shouldn’t be alone any longer. She always knew she had a bad heart, and he’d had her on several different prescriptions through the years, but the one thing she didn’t want was to die alone. She’d gladly trade the peace and quiet for the security of family, and besides, if she really needed to get away, she could always hide in her bedroom. It was roomy enough and Joseph had already set up a big screen television for her along with a rocker-recliner. She even had her own private bathroom. All she had to do now was get some help with the decorations and arranging her bookshelf, and she’d be perfectly comfortable.

Joe Jr. returned and asked about the painting. Did you want me to take that upstairs too, Grannie? He reached for it, but Eloise stopped him with a raised hand.

No, she said looking thoughtful. I think I’ll hang it in my room for now. But you can take all this wrapping away for me.

He gave her a smile and bundled up all the brown paper. Sure thing, Grams. He paused a moment and looked at the picture. Hey, is that the family heirloom I heard so much about?"

Why, yes it is, Joey. I’m not sure if it was actually painted by someone in our family, but it’s been around a long time. Eloise sighed, too tired to take the time to explain what her mother had told her. Instead, she changed the subject and asked her grandson about school. After a short conversation, he left to throw out the papers, and as he walked away she thought, I’m not getting any younger; perhaps I ought to explain the whole account to someone in this family before I croak off myself. She put a hand on her chest and laughed quietly.

* * *

After supper, Eloise helped Shelly with the dishes, even though she kept telling her to sit down and relax. Oh, don’t be silly. It’s the least I can do, dear. She was too stubborn to admit how much her back had been hurting from being on her feet most of the day. But she refused to be a burden and wanted to help out as much as she could.

Mom. I know what you’re thinking, Shelly said softly. We’re all really glad you finally moved in with us. Before long, Cory will graduate high school, Joey will be finished with college and move away, and Joseph and I will be all alone. God only knows how long it will be before we have any grandkids. Trust me; it’ll be nice having another woman around.

Thanks, Shell. You always were my favorite daughter-in-law! She chuckled as she watched Shelly scrunch up her face and roll her eyes. But you’re right. I am tired. I think I’ll go watch some television in my room. Everyone knew Joseph’s news-watching routine after supper. The living room TV was all his and nobody bothered him for that one hour.

Eloise was surprised to find that someone had placed the painting on her bed. She hobbled back into the kitchen and asked Shelly for a hammer and nail, explaining that she’d found the perfect spot for the picture. But before she could get it up on the wall, Joseph came storming in and said, Ma! Let me help you with that. Apparently, Shelly ratted her out.

She handed him the hammer and said, If you insist, Son. Pointing above her short bookcase, she said, Hang it right there, Joe. And make sure it’s centered.

She sat down on her recliner, watched him pound the nail in, and thanked him when he finished adjusting the picture. After he left, she clicked the remote and put her feet up, but she nodded off within a few minutes.

* * *

After noticing her grandmother sleeping peacefully in the chair, Cory hesitated at the doorway. Not wanting to disturb her, she took a quick step back into the hallway, but the painting caught her eye, and she was suddenly overtaken with the urge to get a closer look. The baby girl in her arms seemed quite content, sucking on her pacifier. Cory tiptoed into the room and stopped in front of the picture, and as she studied it, she wondered what all the fuss was about. Of course, no one had ever explained who had painted the picture, and what made it so special. But she did notice something quite strange as she stood there. The baby girl appeared to be gazing at it too. Perhaps all the colors had attracted her, but it was a bit uncanny to see a three-month-old child’s attention fixed on anything for more than three seconds. Eloise cleared her throat, and Cory twirled around, forgetting all about the picture.

Gramma, did we wake you? she whispered.

No, dear. I don’t think so, anyway. She looked at the bundle in her granddaughter’s arms and held out her hands, saying, Let me get a look at that baby girl!

As her grandmother pushed the footrest down on the chair, Cory inched closer and handed her the baby. Isn’t she adorable? she asked, taking a step back.

Eloise cooed at the baby and the child smiled up at her. Now and then she’d turn her head to peek back at Cory. Before long, they started a cute game of peekaboo, and the baby started giggling, which in turn, made Eloise begin to reminisce about the past.

Oh, I do miss the days when you and your brother were babies. I loved every minute of it.

Cory sat down on the floor at her grandmother’s feet, still playing with the baby. Eloise reached over with a hand and touched Cory’s cheek. I think I may have liked being a grannie more so than being a mother. But don’t tell your father I admitted that! She chuckled and turned her attention back to the baby.

Yeah. You were definitely our favorite grannie, Cory began. Mom’s mother was always so busy; she never had time for us like you did.

"Well, I did learn from the best. My Memaw was wonderful. I lost her the year your dad turned three, so he probably doesn’t remember her at all. With a sigh, Eloise added, You would have loved her Cory. Oh, the stories she told us when we were kids! Eloise paused to wipe a bit of drool off the baby’s chin. I’m sure some of the tales were actually true, but that woman had such a great imagination. She even had a story about this very painting, but I don’t think anyone really believed her."

Cory turned and glanced up. That one?

Yes. Apparently, she received it as a wedding gift from her stepmother, Emma, who insisted she keep it as long as she lived in Boston. It was then passed onto my mother, Liliana, and after I had your dad, she passed it to me. I do believe this is the first time anyone’s taken the time to hang it up in years. Eloise craned her head toward the painting and added, It’s a lovely piece, isn’t it?

The baby started to fuss; Cory stood up and took the baby from her grandmother, ignoring her question. As she rocked the baby in her arms, she asked, Did you just say that your great grandmother’s name was Emma?

I believe it was, dear. But to be clear, she was my grandma’s stepmother. I never met her real mother.

"Wow! What a coincidence! This baby’s name is Emma too!"

A ripple of goosebumps flashed over Eloise as she whispered, You don’t say?

The baby started crying, and Cory stepped closer to the painting again. Come on, little one. Look at all the pretty colors!

The moment the baby caught sight of the picture, her eyes widened and she calmed down. Eloise and Corinda looked on in awe, and the old woman began to believe in magic. As they continued to be mesmerized by the sudden calmness of the child, Eloise mused, You were named after her, you know.

Named after who, Grams?

Your great-great grandmother, Cora Mae MacKenna.

Yeah, I remember hearing that. So how come no one ever hung it up before? It’s really pretty. And little Emma sure seems to like it.

I’m not sure, dear. But I’ve always been a bit of a rebel. And I just thought I might enjoy it a little before I pass it down to your dad. No sense having it stored away where no one can see it, is there?

Just then, baby Emma giggled and reached out her hand, trying to touch the painting. The exact moment her little fingers came in contact with it, all the lights suddenly began to flicker, Cory felt a strange vibration all around the baby, and the room went dark.

The baby started whimpering; Cory cradled her closer to give her comfort, and a minute later Shelly came into the room with a flashlight. Everyone okay in here? she called from behind the bright beam of light.

Yeah, we’re fine, Cory said, still comforting the baby, jostling her up and down a little. What happened, Mom? Was the house struck by lightning or something? I actually felt a kind of static charge or something!

I’m not sure, but it’s really storming outside. It’s coming down like crazy - snow, sleet, icy rain. I thought I even heard some thunder!

Well, they’ll get the lights back on soon enough, Eloise said. Why don’t you light some of those candles on my dresser, Shelly?

Great idea, Ma. She handed the flashlight to her mother-in-law and ran to the kitchen for matches, and moments later the room was flickering with candle light. Turning back, she said, Oh, wow! Look at little Emma’s wide eyes! I doubt she’s ever seen anything like this before.

I better change her and give her a bottle, Cory said, It’s past her bedtime. Good thing I already set up the playpen. I’d hate to do that in the dark. She touched Eloise’s shoulder as she passed her chair and said, Night, Grannie. See you in the morning.

Handing her the flashlight, Eloise wished her a good night and waved at the baby. Bye-bye little Emma.

Tragically, little Emma would never know her parents. That very night, while she slept soundly in Corinda’s room, sometime after her father proposed to her mother, the newly engaged couple attempted to drive home on the icy roads.

They never made it.

March, 1989

Corinda’s senior year in high school ended up being the worst year of her life. Not only did she lose her best friend Ellen, but three short months later, her Grandma Eloise died. After the funeral she found herself standing in front of the painting in her grandmother’s room, crying her eyes out. When her mother saw her, she tried to comfort her, but nothing she said seemed to help. Finally convincing her to leave the room, Shelly