Legend (Legend, Colorado 1)

As Kady took her place and Ruth poured the tea, for a moment or two there was an awkward silence between them. Then, as Kady picked up a teacup, she smiled.

“Does my choice of china amuse you?” Ruth asked stiffly.

“No, of course not,” Kady answered quickly. “I was thinking of the story Cole told me about Tarik and him stuffing all the sandwiches and cakes into their mouths at once. Was he really such a horrid little boy?”

As Kady watched Ruth—for some reason she could not think of her as Mrs. Jordan—the older woman’s face turned pale, as though she were on the verge of fainting.

Quickly, Kady put down her cup and reached out her hand, but Ruth pulled away. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Ruth said softly, looking at Kady in an intense way that was exactly like Cole. “My grandson must love you very much if he mentioned his friend to you. He does not usually speak of . . . of Tarik.”

“Cole and I talk a great deal, really. He has a lot to say about everything.”

Ruth put her hand on Kady’s. “I am an old woman, and I have not seen my grandson in many years, so please, tell me everything. From the beginning.”

At that Kady laughed. “You would not believe me if I told you.”

The woman’s eyes were as intense as those of the eagles Cole had saved. “Yes I would,” she said. “You must trust me that nothing you tell me will shock me or make me disbelieve you. I must know everything.”

It was on the tip of Kady’s tongue to say that if she wanted to know more about her grandson, then she should swallow her pride and visit him. Or, better yet, live with him. With us, she corrected herself.

But as Kady looked into the woman’s eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to give advice. Besides, who was she to judge a woman who had been through what this one had?

Kady took a deep breath. “I was born in nineteen sixty-six.” As she said this she watched the woman to see if she was going to scoff, but when she did not so much as blink, it was as though a dam were released inside Kady. She had no idea how much she’d wanted to talk to someone about what had happened to her.

Once Kady started, she couldn’t seem to stop, and she must have talked for hours. Ruth was the best listener in the world, graciously refilling Kady’s plate every time it was emptied and never once losing a look of interest so strong that it seemed to consume her. Once in a while she’d ask a polite question, such as, “Mavis Benson?” then smile at the answer. She had to suppress laughter when Kady told her of Juan Barela, as though she knew something Kady did not.

It was late afternoon by the time Kady finally wound down, and when she looked at the empty dishes, she was embarrassed. “I seem to have eaten everything, and I’ve taken all your time when you must be anxious to see Cole.” She said this as though she didn’t know that Ruth Jordan had vowed never again to set foot in Legend.

Ruth did not move but instead sat on the white damask cloth with her hands folded on her lap, her head down, her eyes hidden from Kady’s view. When she did look up at Kady, her eyes were so full of anguish that Kady instinctively pulled back.

“I believe you,” Ruth said after a moment.

At that Kady smiled. “I don’t see how you could. Time travel is not something that actually happens to a person. Except that this time, it did.”

Ruth waved her hand in dismissal, rings flashing in the sun. “Your traveling through time is the easy part to believe. What is difficult to accept is believing that you met my grandson.”

“But why is that difficult to understand? Oh, I see. It is difficult to believe that out of all the people throughout history I could have met, I came back to your grandson.” She leaned toward Ruth. “I have puzzled over that, too. Why Cole? I have never met anyone who needed me less than he does. He is rich and gorgeous, and he has women dying to love him. He is, after all, very easy to love.”

“And did you love him?”

Kady looked down at her hands. “Is it possible to love two men?” Her voice lowered. “Maybe even three of them?” When Ruth did not answer, Kady looked up to see that the woman was smiling.

“Oh, yes, I can guarantee you that,” Ruth said, eyes twinkling. “I am living proof that a woman can love more than one man.”

For a long moment, Ruth looked deep into Kady’s eyes. “You are so young, my dear. So very young and so very innocent. When I look into your eyes, I see no pain. Nothing or no one has hurt you so deeply that your soul has been damaged.”

Frowning, Kady said, “I have lost both my parents and—”

Ruth cut her off. “Natural deaths. No one has ever been taken from you who should not have been.”

“If this is a competition, I hope I lose,” Kady answered, still frowning.

Ruth didn’t say anything for a moment, then she turned and said loudly, “Joseph!” From out of the shadows of nearby trees stepped a tall man, gray hair at the temples, wearing a silver gray uniform. “The brandy, please, Joseph.”

Within seconds a silver flask and two tiny silver cups were handed to Ruth, and she filled one, then handed it to Kady.

“No thank you,” Kady said. “Drinking in the afternoon either puts me to sleep or gives me a headache.”