Heartfelt Letters Lost in Time (Preview)

Chapter One

“Look at you, little one,” Mary Rose Brooks said to a tiny bird that was lying on the footpath. “You must have fallen from your nest early. Mama is probably busy attending to her other babies, which means I have to take care of you. I want you to be able to soar among the clouds with the other birds, so we’re going to work together to make that happen. I don’t have wings and feathers, but I’ll have to do for now.”

Mary Rose looked up at the massive chestnut tree and realized the bird had fallen a long way from the nest. It wasn’t the first injured or abandoned animal she had found on her daily walks. If a helpless animal needed aid, and Mary Rose came upon it, she’d try her hardest to nurse it back to health. However, they hadn’t always had wounds that were holding them back.

She had found a duckling once that hadn’t been injured but lost. There had been a mother duck somewhere, counting her chicks and coming up one short. Mary Rose had made it her mission to reunite the duckling and its mother, which she did. The baby duck fell in line with his brothers and sisters as the family waddled towards the water. Mary Rose had been late for dinner that night, and her parents were not happy, but reuniting the family of fowl had been worth it.

Her blue cape wasn’t necessary any longer as the sun was climbing up in the sky, and the morning chill was gone. She used it to carry the fledgling whose downy feathers had a reddish tint. She thought maybe it was a cardinal, and that was good luck. With the bird safe for now, she had to deal with her parents, who were not pleased with her habit of bringing sick animals home. 

Mary Rose was likely late for something, as she always was. Her parents would let her know as soon as she walked in the door. She wasn’t sure what would bother them more: her being late or another sick bird. She pushed her strawberry blonde hair back from her face and flattened the wrinkles on her dress. A streak of dirt on her chiffon yellow dress was yet another thing that would be noticed by her mother. Before Mary Rose could open the door, her mother pulled it from the inside.

“Mary Rose, where have you been all morning? Your father and I were ready to take the carriage down to that unsafe park where you insist on going. Everyone in Boston knows it’s not a place where ladies should stroll unaccompanied,” Mrs. Brooks said.

“I didn’t go that far but only to the chestnut grove, where I found this precious bird that fell from its nest.” Mary Rose unfolded her cape to show off the bird to her mother.

“That cape will have to be washed along with the dress you’re wearing. As far as the bird goes, there’s no room on the back porch for the animals that you continually bring home. I thought your father and I made that clear when you brought home the chipmunk.”

“I’m sorry about the soiled clothes and my tardiness, but it couldn’t be helped. Can I keep the bird for two days, please?” Mary Rose asked. “If it isn’t well by then, I’ll make other arrangements.”

Before her mother could answer, her father, Daniel walked into the room. He was working in the study and preferred things to remain quiet, especially during working hours. The sounds of Mary Rose and her mother speaking sparked his curiosity.

“What are the two of you talking about? Is there an issue in which you need help, Cora?” Daniel asked. 

“As you can see, our daughter has brought home yet another wounded animal. I was just telling her that it has no place for it in this home,” Cora said.

“I agree, and it should be placed outside to let the natural order of things take place. We are not a hospital for sick animals. Don’t you have a guest coming for tea?” he asked her mother. 

“Yes, I have Leticia Morgan, an English countess, coming, and I’ve been helping Mildred all morning with preparations. Imagine my embarrassment if my tea wasn’t perfect for a woman of her stature.”

“I forgot Countess Leticia was coming. I’ll figure out something for the bird and be ready in a clean dress for tea. I’m sorry for making you come out of your office, Father, and I apologize for causing you to worry, Mother.”

Mary Rose’s father nodded and disappeared into his study. Doing so was his routine. He’d check on things, agree with Cora, and return to his desk. Her mother slowly shook her head and pursed her lips before walking away.

She carried the bird to her room with no idea what she was going to do with it. The natural order that her father spoke of would result in the bird being dead in an hour. It had no way of defending itself against predators like other birds, ground squirrels, or rats. The servants had helped her in the past by hiding the animals in the garden shed, but that had been too risky. If her parents knew they were going behind their backs, the servants might lose their jobs.

Mary Rose’s blue eyes widened when she thought of the solution, and she didn’t know why it took her so long to think of Jack. Her best friend since childhood, he was always the answer when she found herself with nowhere to turn. Jack didn’t look like the sort to help a delicate bird, but his height and broad shoulders belied his tender heart. He was loud and boisterous but could be calm when he needed to be. Mary Rose considered his ability to be more than one thing: a gift.

She bumped into Mildred on the way out the back door.

“You’re in a hurry, Miss Mary Rose. I was just about to knock on your door and collect the soiled clothes Mrs. Brooks mentioned.”

“I have to run to the smithery, and I didn’t want to get a clean dress dirty, so I’m wearing it, but it will be ready for cleaning when I get back. There’s no need to concern my mother by telling her about my impromptu errand. I’ll be home in time for tea with the Countess Leticia. According to my mother, she has been working hard all morning to make sure it goes well.”

Mildred smiled and rolled her eyes. “Very fine, Miss. I’ll see you at three-thirty sharp for tea.”

Mary Rose was familiar with the gesture. Mildred had been working hard all morning, and her mother had probably been napping. There were some things she and the servants knew and didn’t need to verbalize.

***

Jonathan Fields had always been plain old Jack to her. Mary Rose had begun sneaking away when things in their grand mansion bored her, which meant she had done it frequently. The manners and decorum grew tedious even at a young age. It had been easy to slip away since her parents were occupied with impressing or being impressed by the guests. There had been nice people at her parents’ soirees, but they were never interesting. There were no surprises since everyone acted as they were expected to act.

The adults were enjoying aperitifs on the side terrace, and she was sent off with Blythe, her nanny at the time. Mary Rose pretended to fall asleep as she was being read a book, so the nanny tucked her into bed and left her alone. She climbed down the trellis and scampered across the field, which was a bold move for a child of seven. The days were long, and it wasn’t quite dark yet, so she had that measure of safety. A stream flowed from the Charles River, and she had dipped her feet as it was a hot summer night.

A boy was skimming rocks along the surface of the water not too far from where she was. That boy was Jack.

***

Jack was pounding metal as he made a new ax for Mr. Raab. His old one had been made with a wood handle that snapped while he was chopping an oak log. He was making one that would live longer than Mr. Raab. Jack’s father taught him how to make tools to last a lifetime.

He was finding it harder to concentrate since Mary Rose came back to Boston. He much preferred it when she was only one mile away to when she was two hundred miles away. A single glance at her ice-blue eyes and sweet smile was enough to send his heart soaring. Working in a hot forge and dealing with his father’s illness were bearable with Mary Rose in his life.

His family had nothing compared to the Brooks family. He was, at times, embarrassed by the discrepancy, but it didn’t seem to matter one bit to Mary Rose. She appreciated how hard her father worked to amass their fortune, but at the same time, it didn’t mean much to her.

He had never met a woman as remarkable as Mary Rose, and at last, she was home in Boston for good.

***

Mary Rose walked four blocks to the smithery where Jack would probably be working. He learned the blacksmith trade from his father, who had been fighting illness for the past year. His father, Nigel, seldom made it to work at the shop he owned, which left Jack to fill all the orders that came in.

She felt the heat as she turned the corner and found she was right; he was working. Jack was pounding a glowing piece of steel that he held with pinchers. Mary Rose hated surprising him when he had something like that in his hands.

She whistled to get his attention, and he looked up with a smile. “What a nice surprise this is, although you’re carrying something with you, and that makes me very nervous. Should I be scared?” Jack asked.

The blacksmith shop was so hot, and as a result, Jack’s sleeves were rolled up. Mary Rose realized she hadn’t seen his bare forearms in a few years, and he had developed quite a bit during that time. His forearms looked larger and matched his broad shoulders. One thing was sure, he looked a lot different than he had when she was seven and he was eleven. They had been children then, and now they were grown adults, although she still forgot sometimes that he was twenty-five.

“I know I’m not scary, nor is this helpless bird I found on the footpath. It needs our help, or it might not survive,” she said.

Jack chuckled at the look on her face. 

“I wasn’t serious. I’ve known you a long time, and not once have you scared me. Although, I was scared when you first left for boarding school since I wasn’t sure I’d see you again,” Jack said.

“I get sensitive when I think I’m the butt of a joke. I should know you mean no harm.”

 Chuckles came so easily to Jack, although this time, Mary Rose knew it was at her expense. She adored him, and he didn’t intend to offend her, so it really didn’t matter. They had decided that they were soulmates, a term Jack had heard from his sister Jenny. She married Ronald and moved to Vermont with him because she said he was her soulmate. The term sounded good, although they weren’t positive that they knew what it meant.

He pulled down his sleeves as he recovered from his fit of laughter. “You say it needs our help, but I know you well enough to realize what you really mean is that it needs my help. It was only a matter of time before your mother put an end to using your back porch as an animal hospital,” Jack said, but Mary Rose knew he would soften when he saw the baby bird. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Mary Rose unfolded the cape and showed him the sweet little bird with the reddish feathers and open beak. “I think it’s a cardinal, and the open beak tells me it’s hungry. Do you still have the dropper handy?”

“I do, and I can mash up the insects mixed with milk like you taught me. Don’t you feel bad about having to sacrifice the insects for the birds?” he asked with a smile. 

“I do, and you know it.” She jokingly punched him on the arm. “The mother bird would have killed the insects anyway. Enough joking. Will you take care of it for me?”

“Of course. I find it difficult to ever say no to you. That’s why you come to me in situations like this. Aren’t I right?” Jack asked.

“You’re right. I hate having to leave you alone, but it won’t be for long. I can try and sneak away after tea that my mother has arranged with Countess Leticia from England.”

“How does your mother find people from England to invite for tea?”

“I don’t know. My father’s connections with Brooks’ Shipping, I suppose. You know, I’d rather be down by the river skipping stones or feeding baby animals with a dropper. However, I mustn’t go against my parents’ wishes.”

“I’ll be here or at home tending to my father. I’ll take the bird with me regardless, and you should come and find me.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Mary Rose said.

“You always can. I don’t have much like you do, but I can always find a way to help with what little money or possessions I have.”

Mary pursed her lips, a habit she had picked up from her mother. “We decided years ago that neither of us would ever bring up wealth or lack of it.”

“It’s not as easy as it was when we were children,” Jack said.

“I hate that growing up makes the world such a complicated place.” Mary Rose frowned. “It will get much more complicated if I’m late for tea, so we are going to have to talk more when I return.”

“What time is tea?” 

“Three-thirty sharp, as Mildred informed me,” Mary Rose responded.

Jack took out his pocket watch that he had found by the railroad tracks. It had been covered in dirt, and he’d cleaned it off. He joked that it made him feel like a successful banker or some other profession that could help afford him and Mary Rose to live in high style. “It’s only just past noon. You don’t have to rush unless you want to.” He smiled.

 Mary Rose shook her head. “I’ll stay and help feed the bird. My morning has been filled with so many ups and downs, I’ve lost track of time. Relaxing with you before I have to put on a show for Countess Leticia will be heavenly.”

Mary Rose took a deep breath and relaxed, knowing that she would have time to spend with Jack. She loved her parents but was more able to be herself around Jack. Her love for him knew no limits, and she was happy just being in his presence.

 

Chapter Two

Mary Rose watched Jack put his tools on the cooling rack and clean up around the shop. He dropped an anvil, and the bird shook itself awake. It seemed more alert than it had been when she found it. Perhaps it was the warmth of the smithery. She squealed when she saw the positive sign shown by the bird.

A truly concerned Jack turned to face her. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, that was a positive squeal and not a negative one.” She laughed. “The bird is really coming to life, and I think it’s safe to name it.”

“I think it’s still too soon. The last one we named when it was this small died, and you were heartbroken. A name allows you to really become attached to the animal.” Jack lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “I can’t bear to see you that inconsolable, and I’ll do anything to prevent it.”

“I have a good feeling about this one, and it deserves a name. He’s not like Crystal, who had a broken wing. I think he should be called Rusty,” Mary Rose said.

“I think he’s already been named, and I’m too late with my opinion. I used to be called Rusty, did you know that?” Jack asked.

“That is one of the few things I didn’t know, but it’s fitting as your hair is reddish-brown. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

“Probably because my name is already a nickname, and I didn’t need another. It was my sister’s idea when I was a baby, and my hair was just coming in. Jenny was much older and fascinated with having a baby brother, probably since she was thinking of having one of her own someday. She said it looked like I had rust growing from my head.”

“Interesting.”

“How do you know the bird is a boy?” Jack asked. “Unless you named a girl Rusty, which is possible, I guess.”

“Its feathers are already reddish, so I think it’s a boy. It will probably be a vibrant red someday, and in nature, the males are always more colorful and showier. It’s like the opposite of the way humans are.”

“I learn something new from you every day. It amazes me how much you know and how little I know.”

“That isn’t true. I know about some things, and you know about others. Making tools is something I don’t know the first thing about. You know I don’t like it when you make comments like that. Don’t say negative things about my best friend—it isn’t nice,” Mary Rose said.

“You’re right. I wish I were the smartest and wealthiest man around so I could take care of you forever. I’m not yet, but someday, I’ll be everything you need,” Jack said confidently.

“You already are,” Mary Rose mumbled, and he barely heard.

Jack handed Mary Rose the cup with the ghastly mixture he’d concocted of insects and milk. The dropper was from the tincture the doctor had provided his father. When the bottle was empty, he saved the dropper, which was perfect for feeding Rusty. She held the bird still as Jack gently put the dropper to the bird’s beak. Rusty closed his beak, and they could see the bit of liquid make its way down its tiny throat. 

Their heads were close, and Mary Rose looked deep into Jack’s hazel eyes that were flecked with gold. She felt his breath, and the opportunity to kiss him for the third time was there, but she let it pass. Did he feel the urge to kiss her, too? All Mary Rose could do was hope that was the case and that he resisted out of respect.

“There’s nothing like seeing a baby bird accept the insect mixture. He’s on his way to flying with all the other birds,” she said.

“This is the tenth bird you’ve brought to me. It’s as if your kind heart knows no limits,” Jack said.

“You’re exaggerating. I have not brought that many to you, maybe half that amount.”

“Don’t doubt me because I keep careful track of all the wounded or lost animals that you bring to me. From the chipmunk and baby turtle to the birds.”

“I forget how organized you are, and I’m touched that you care enough to remember. Has it been too much of an imposition?” Mary Rose asked.

“No. You always smile when you find a young animal that can be saved, so I like it,” he said.

Mary Rose was happy about the sick baby animal receiving help, but she was smiling to be around Jack, too. He had been making her smile since that first day by the stream. You would think she would have been afraid of a stranger with long legs and knobby knees, but she hadn’t been, and he had definitely grown into his awkward body.

“It’s not only the birds, silly.”

“Then what?”

“After all these years, you must know that you are a big part of the reason I smile.” 

She felt herself blush, and he did, too, although it was harder to see on his face. He was tanned from working outside in the sun when he wasn’t in the smithery. If he were pale, he’d be red as a beet when he was embarrassed.

Jack changed the subject back to the small animals she rescued. “I’m honored that you trust me to take care of the animals you bring by.”

“Of course, I trust you. You’re my best friend, and if I’m forced to bring them anywhere, it would be to you. Only you can be the big and strong blacksmith one moment and gentle and caring the next. You’re the only person I know who can be two things so expertly.”

“I think life would be boring if I were only one way. It would be tedious if all I did was lift heavy metal or tend to Mr. Raab’s field. Doing things like caring for the small animals or listening to you, keeps me sane,” Jack said.

“What do you like about listening to me prattle on about meaningless things?”

“Nothing that comes from your mouth is meaningless. I like it when you tell me stories about places I have never been, such as New York City. I’ll likely never meander down the Hudson River. I won’t smell the tanginess of it or feel the warm sun on my cheek, tempered by the cool breeze. Yet, I feel like I was there when you describe these places in such detail. That, to me, isn’t prattle. It’s poetic coming from you.”

“Haven’t you made me blush enough today?” Mary Rose asked, expecting no answer. 

Rusty opened his mouth again as he was hungry for another dropper of food. Mary Rose fed him, and when she looked up, she caught Jack staring at her, and it wasn’t just a passing glance. It was a look of longing, and she felt flattered. If they had been closer, as they were earlier, their third kiss would have no doubt occurred. 

“You’re beautiful, especially when you’re doing something you love. I’m sure you’re just as beautiful when your home receives guests like Countess Leticia. It’s probably a different kind of beauty but lovely just the same.”

“You should come with me and see how I look in a more rigid environment,” Mary Rose said with a questioning glance.

“You can’t be serious. That would stand a chance like staying dry in a rainstorm. If your mother knew we spent as much time together as we do, she’d lock you in your room. Worse yet, she’d find a way to lock me up behind bars,” Jack said.

“That’s such a shame, but it’s true. For whatever reason, my parents only want me with someone of equal or higher social status. They will have to eventually realize that will never happen. Since I was young, I knew their life was not the sort of life I wanted,” Mary Rose said. “If I were to invite you to one of their dinner parties, they would fall over in shock.”

“If there were other people around, they may not want to show their true selves. They would lure me into the broom closet and lock me in there for the night.” Jack laughed at his outlandish ideas. 

Mary Rose had to dry her tears of laughter before coming up with her own idea. “Father might sneak out to the gardening shed where he would find the rat poison. He’d put it in your watercress salad. Seriously, my parents might soften their beliefs as they grow older.”

“Don’t hold out hope for that, as it will only end in your disappointment. You’re the only child of one of the wealthiest families in all of Boston. Your father owns Brooks’ Shipping, and there are very few things in Boston that don’t come via your father’s company. On top of that, you’re beautiful and well-educated, thus a pauper like me will never make it beyond your front door.”

“I wish that were different. It saddens me to think that the mother and father that I love so dearly are that closed-minded.”

“I’m afraid all we have now are a few stolen kisses.”

Jack approached Mary Rose slowly and reached out but never made contact. She wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss her or wipe a smudge from her face. 

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on my daughter.” Mrs. Brooks walked through the doorway of the smithery. “I came looking for you, Mary Rose, after threatening Mildred with firing if she didn’t tell me where you were. I wanted to make sure you were wearing a proper dress for tea, and this is how I find you. You’re letting Jonathan Fields come close to laying his soot-covered hands on your body.”

Mary Rose started to speak, but her mother put up her glove-covered hand in the air.

“I believe an apology is in order,” she said.

Jack didn’t say a word. He stood straight with his hands by his sides and made it clear that no words were going to be spoken. He did, however, lift one hand to tug his ear. Mary Rose noticed the small motion and knew it to be something Jack did when he was confused or self-conscious.

Mary Rose’s mother grabbed her by the sleeve without another word. She mouthed the word sorry. Jack smiled at her and winked.

***

Jack was alone in the shop with a fragile bird that he was determined to look after. He saw Mary Rose snatched away before he could touch her. Her sweet scent still lingered in the smithery, and he wished more than ever that he could be good enough for her. After the way they had just been found by Mrs. Brooks, that was less likely than ever to happen.

Jack recalled how he had kissed Mary Rose when she had only been eight years old. She had been caring for a wounded bunny, and it hadn’t lived. It had been the first animal that she had been unable to save, and the scene had been too emotional for her to handle. Jack had kissed her then and hadn’t an idea what the gesture meant. He had seen Jenny kiss her husband Ronald, and they both enjoyed it. Jack had wanted to give Mary Rose something to enjoy, and a kiss had seemed like the right thing to do.

Neither of them had known what the kiss meant. They hadn’t kissed again until she was fourteen. They had never spoken about that first kiss.

The bird represented a small part of Mary Rose, so he would do anything to keep it alive. There was a small barn at his house by the railroad tracks, and he’d keep the fledgling there. He made sure everything was tidy in the shop before heading home. Jack’s father was ill and home alone, so he rode home to tend to him.

---

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Pearl Sullivan’s devotion to her family fuels her every decision, but when her father loses his job, she faces a difficult choice. She needs to marry a wealthy stranger in order to secure her family’s future. However, the winds of change carry her toward the enigmatic Johnny, and a daring proposition that could alter the course of her life presents itself…

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Mary Rose Brooks lives her life under the watchful eye of her aristocratic parents. Radiating kindness, intelligence, and captivating beauty, she nurtures a deep affection for rescuing helpless animals. However, hidden beneath her privileged façade is a secret, a precious bond with her best friend and soulmate. As the years pass, their connection deepens into a love that defies the boundaries of their society.

Can Mary Rose’s love for Jack survive the weight of her family’s expectations and the relentless gaze of society?

Jack, the rugged blacksmith with a heart as robust as iron and a passion for poetry that sets souls ablaze, exists worlds apart from Mary Rose’s privileged realm. Charismatic and embraced by all who meet him, he possesses every quality except one—the approval of Mary Rose’s parents. As he sets out on a daring quest to reunite with the love of his life, the undelivered letters she never received, haunt his every step…

Can a heart as unyielding as his own find its way back to the one it loves against all odds?

Destiny’s hand plays a cruel trick, enticing Mary Rose to the wild expanses of Texas under the pretense of a family visit, only to unveil a heart-wrenching deception. Letters go missing, signals are tragically misinterpreted, and a sinister engagement looms menacingly. In a world conspiring to keep them apart, can these star-crossed lovers defy the odds and rewrite the destiny that hinges on the words never received?

“Heartfelt Letters Lost in Time” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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