Tuck turned slowly. He wasn’t losing his mind and hearing voices, right? The slight man who Tuck had seen earlier, the one Lizzy had pegged as a scholar, beamed at him. The guy wasn’t tall, around five-five, with bushy brows and graying temples.
“Do I know you?”
“Of course not.” The man chuckled. “But I knowyou. When I learned that the Wooddash girl had wed a gentleman bearing the distinctive name of Tucker Taylor, I couldn’t help but find it a remarkable twist of fate. As I’m sure you’ve observed, your name is rather uncommon for this time. However, I dared not entertain high expectations. Upon discovering you were American, I resolved to obtain a ticket to the Crawford ball by any means necessary, and here you are now.”
Tuck opened his mouth. A dozen questions lined up but none could make their way out.
“Who? How? When? Where?”
The man glanced around. “This isn’t the place for a lengthy conversation.” He slipped a folded piece of paper into Tuck’s hand. “Come to this address tomorrow. Bring your wife, if she knows. Are you planning to stay?”
“Stay,” Tuck dumbly repeated.
“Here, at this time? Nineteenth-century England does have some things going for it. The days are longer, aren’t they? There’s more time to think—less hustle and bustle. Of course, there are no pizza delivery services, podcasts, or plane rides, but we can’t have it all.”
“Where do you come from?” Tuck blinked.
“Same place as you. Well, England through birth, EU on my passport. But I taught Celtic studies in California. Berkeley.”
“England left the...” Tuck slammed his mouth shut. “I didn’t expect to meet anyone else this ever happened to!”
“Indeed, you are my first fellow crosser, but rest assured, others have come before us, and others will come after. Some must make it back to their time and others must choose to stay. And, of course, some get sick and die. There are some very nasty things here—cholera, for instance. Stay well away from that. Oh, and don’t get the clap without modern medicine. I’ve seen it once. Not pretty. We are all much better off having a nose.”
“What’s your name?”
“Ezekiel Fairweather.” With a flourish, he swept an arm across his waist and inclined his head. “Friends call me Zeke, and I do think we will be friends, Tuck Taylor; indeed, I do. I never played hockey myself, but I wish I’d gotten a crack at it. I was quite mad about the sport while I worked stateside. I went to as many games as I could—the Mighty Ducks were my team.”
“I...”
“It’s a shock, of course. But tomorrow will be informative. Where did you enter?”
“A pond. In a farmer’s field. It was a car accident.”
“A pond?” Zeke hit thephard. “How marvelous. Mine was a spring in Oxfordshire. I had been doing research into the Rollright Stones nestled on the outskirts of the Cotswolds hills. There is quite a collection of megalithic monuments spanning nearly two thousand years through Neolithic and Bronze Age development. I had an idea that I had been toying with and wanted to put to the test. So, I entered the water during Beltane, a Celtic and also Druidic holiday that people now refer to as May Day. I dove in, laughing to myself, half thinking I was mad, and then the world churned and all direction disappeared. I crawled out of that pond laughing no more. It was 1809.”
“Three years ago?”
“Three years ago. And it was a different season too. There are details I don’t begin to understand, but I have many theories. Also, how many of us are there, who have crossed and slipped into the fabric of their new world? It’s just simple, dumb good fortune that I recognized your name.” Zeke’s gaze was far away before he shook his head. “I look forward to meeting with you tomorrow, Mr.Taylor. Much to discuss. And tell me—do the Regals still have Gale Knight as their center?”
“Sure do.” Tuck glanced around the ballroom, so incongruous to any discussions about his teammates.
“He’s young, but I believe he’s a once-in-a-generation player.”
“That’s what he likes to say.”
“Ah, yes. He is cocky, isn’t he? But it’s true. And is he still a ladies’ man?”
“That’s the rumor.”
“You never were, though.”
“What can I say? I’m an enigma.”
That was his go-to with the press. They loved it. Ate it up with a spoon. And from the way Zeke was grinning, he liked it too.
Zeke bid him good night, and Tuck slipped out onto the balcony, head too full to think, when Henry slunk out. Lizzy’s brother’s smile was polite, but his eyes were not. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, man. Lizzy’s in her cups. You better take her home before Father notices and we all catch it.”
“Where is she?”
