Page 107 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

“Sam struck him back. By the end of it, Mr. Grange had a bloody nose and a black eye. I stood before the door so he could not leave. He struck at me as well, but I moved aside, and he hit the door instead.”

Jim paused.

“Sam locked his father’s boots in the barn for good measure.”

Elizabeth laughed, and Mr. Darcy smiled.

“It was not elegant, miss, but the farm survived.”

Jim folded the letter.

“His mother never wept over losing her home. His father never sat at the kitchen table wishing himself dead. There was no reason for Sam to leave for London because the farm was never lost.”

Elizabeth looked at the letter.

Jim returned the paper to the wooden chest.

“Sam lived a good life. His father never returned to the tavern after that night, for Sam saw to that. My friend married, had children, and farmed the same land his father had nearly lost. We spoke of Arbor Low from time to time, but not often. There was nothing to be gained by troubling ourselves over something we could not explain.”

“When did he die?” Elizabeth asked.

“Fifteen years ago. A few weeks before his death, he sent for me and handed me the letter. I told him it belonged to him because he had carried it through whatever happened at Arbor Low.”

Jim closed the chest.

“He said he had no need of proof anymore.”

For a time, no one spoke.

Then Dr. Wynn grinned at the old man.

Jim frowned at him. “What do you find amusing?”

“For years, you complained that no one believed you. I have finally brought you three people who believe every word you have said, and I am rather pleased with myself.”

Jim looked from Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy and Georgiana.

“I can see from your faces that you do believe me.”

“Yes, sir,” Elizabeth said. “What you have told us agrees with the accounts I found during my studies.”

“I believe you, sir,” Mr. Darcy said. “And I thank you for trusting us with your story.”

Jim looked at Georgiana. When he saw her drying her eyes, he nodded in understanding.

“My grandmother used to say that old tales grow with every telling. One man sees something he cannot explain, his son changes a piece of it, and his grandson adds something finer still. After a hundred years, you have fairies, enchanted kings, and men vanishing into hills.”

He rested his hand upon the wooden chest.

“But somewhere beneath all of it, there was the truth, waiting to be discovered.”

Chapter 37: The Rules

For the first part of the drive back to Ashcroft Manor, no one spoke.

Elizabeth sat opposite Dr. Wynn with Jim Fletcher's story occupying her thoughts. The letter Jim had preserved proved that something beyond explanation had occurred.

“Sir, I do not know how to thank you for taking us to Mr. Fletcher. I have spent months searching for proof that the stories surrounding Arbor Low were more than folklore, and you remembered the one man who could provide it.”