Time Standing Still

Chapter 1

Fredricksburg, Virginia.

It was raining that Tuesday morning when Tom had received the phone call. He sat at the edge of the bed with the phone still clenched in his trembling hand. His head hung low in disbelief and the long winded sigh that had escaped his lips revealed no evidence of relief. The blank stare on his unshaven face remained until the obnoxious tone was heard through the phone.

With quivering hands and a fast beating heart, he clumsily placed the phone down in its proper place. The news had hit him hard. The woman he had the most respect and admiration for in the world had died in the early morning hours. She was gone.

Her name was Grace and she was the only family Tom had come to know after his parents had died when he was just ten. Grace never had any children of her own, but she had always treated Tom with the love and tenderness as if he was her own grandchild.

A tear streamed down his face as he recollected all the stories she would tell him of her heritage. Grace was full of elegance and charm and was in every sense a southern lady. To those who knew her well, though, knew that she was also a no-nonsense woman whose feistiness was something to behold. It was always evident that she was proud of who she was and where she came from. This was the quality that Tom loved most about her. This memory made him smile.

Grace was always known as an eccentric story teller. He let out a laugh as he remembered his most favorite, albeit, far-fetched story of all; how Grace's grandmother was a rider for The Pony Express.

Tom relaxed back in his bed and began to close his eyes. He smiled as he remembered how she always started her stories. Stories which were still vivid in his mind even though they were told well over 30 years ago. He could hear Grace's soft voice that played like music in his ears.

Her stories always began with the words..."A long, long time ago, there was a beautiful woman..." Tom had heard many of these tales of Grace's grandmother over the years and he could almost hear her continue. "She was my grandmother and I can still see her sitting in that old desk right in that corner over there brushing her long, brown hair each night before she went to bed. You wouldn't believe it by looking at her, but in her young days she was one of toughest, most bravest women of the wild west." Almost sensing the disbelief from her audience, she continued. "She was, you know!"

Tom's eyes remained closed as a smile escaped from his lips. He remembered that she was always quick to reassure him that every single word she said was true. In his mind, Grace continued on with her story. "She used to tell me how riding for the Pony Express made her feel like she was doing something important. Now... sure as the sky is blue, that Pony Express would have fired her if they found out she was a girl masquerading as a boy!" Tom grinned as he could still hear her sweet voice. "But if it wasn't for one man they called 'The Kid'..." Her gaze drifted away as to look deep into the past. She continued as if to tell him deep secret. "Well, lets just say that Kid had kept her secret ... and along with it, her heart."

Tom opened his eyes and could swear in that moment his senses became more alive. He had fond memories of that old colonial house that Grace lived in. That same house, he knew, had been in her family for over a century. He took in a deep breath wishing he could smell the peach cobbler in the window sill as it cooled in the summer breeze. Grace was such a good cook and often spoiled Tom in his youth.

Looking back to his adolescent years, Tom was able to visualize that weathered, old corner desk. That desk had definitely seen better days, he thought. 'If that desk could talk...', he continued to ponder.

He had never pictured a more beautiful woman in his life... the beauty of that woman was clearer to him than crystal glass. He tried hard to remember her name until it suddenly dawned on him. Her name was Louise. Louise McCloud.

Grace always described Louise as being very smart, headstrong, and having the courage of 10 men. Although it was very tough for a woman to make her way in a man's world, Louise had succeeded. She fought alongside the best of them; Buffalo Bill Cody, Wild Bill Hickok...or so Grace had told him anyway. Tom always remained attentive to every word that came out of Grace's mouth, even if were far-fetched.

There was something about Louise that made Tom feel like they had a common bond. Even though Tom never admitted to anyone, he had always had a fascination for the "wild west."

Tom's reminiscence continued most of the morning until he was interrupted by the ring of the doorbell. Tom ran his hand over his stubbled face and tousled hair before he headed to the front door.

Tom opened the front door to an older gentleman in an overcoat and brown trilby hat. He threw the man a questioning glance as the man began to speak.

"Good morning sir. I would like to apologize for my unannounced arrival." He proceeded to extend his hand for greeting. "My name is Clarence Cartwright, and I am looking for a Mr. Thomas Parker." Tom remained cautious and still did not know why this gentleman was at his door. He spoke quietly. " I am Tom Parker." Their hands were still joined as Mr. Cartwright continued. "Ahhh, Mr. Parker! I am very glad to meet your acquaintance. I am, or should I say was, Grace Donovan's attorney."

Tom did not hesitate to let the gentleman in and offer him a seat at his dining room table. "I must say I am a bit confused as to what brings you here, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Son, I know that this may be too soon to think about, after all, you have just heard of Ms. Donovan's passing just this morning. However, her last will and testament states you are the sole recipient of her entire estate."

Tom stood speechless and had difficulty comprehending what Mr. Cartwright was saying. Tom ashamedly looked down at the hardwood floor. He had become too occupied to visit Grace in the last few months. He always had good intent, but when Grace's dementia deepened and she went into the nursing home, it was hard for him to visit her and see her in that condition.

Tom shook his head out of his daze and returned his attention to Mr. Cartwright.

Mr. Cartwright pulled a file folder out of his briefcase and proceeded to thumb through papers until he pulled out the itemized document. "Ahh yes, this is it." Mr. Cartwright said as he adjusted his eyeglasses and focused on the page in front of him. Continuing on, "This explains it all." Mr. Cartwright slid the document in front of Tom.

Shocked at what the man had laid before him, Tom was speechless. "This must be a mistake, Mr. Cartwright. I don't understand. It says here she is leaving me all of her possessions; her home, her belongings...her money. I just don't understand."

The man continued to speak. "I know that this must all be a shock to you, son, and I am so sorry for your loss. I am obligated to tell you that you have one month to decide what you will be doing with the house. If you do not act in a timely manner, the house will be turned over to the state and will be auctioned off to the highest bidder."

Tom wouldn't let the words sink in. He knew he could never sell that old house. It had so much history to it. He knows that Grace treasured it with all of her heart, and he would only let her down if he were to let it be auctioned off.

"Mr. Cartwright, I can give you the answer right now. The house will not be for sale. It meant so much to Grace, I mean Ms. Donovan, ... and well, I treasure it too." After a few minutes of conversation, Mr. Cartwright had heard all he needed to hear and decided to leave Tom with the papers and his condolences.

Mr. Cartwright patted him on the back and left him with some final words. "She spoke of you highly, son. I've known Gracie for many years and you were her pride and joy."

Tom smiled at what the older man was telling him. He escorted Mr. Cartwright to the door, shook his hand once again, and bid him farewell. Closing the door behind him, Tom leaned his body against it. His eyes wandered around the room aimlessly searching for something but not knowing what.

It was in that moment he spotted Grace's photograph on the side table. Tom walked across the room to until he stood before the antique golden picture frame. Instinctively, he grasped the frame into his hands. His thumb caressed the glass, wiping off a thin layer of dust that had accumulated. He gave out a long sigh. "Oh, Grace. I wish I had been there to say goodbye to you. You were the one who was always there for me and I am going to miss you dearly." Tom remained fixed on her image for a few minutes before placing the photo back onto the side table.

He seemed to have clarity in that moment. He knew exactly what he needed to do. Without any hesitation, Tom began packing up some of his belongings. He felt like there was only one place he needed to be in that moment in time. He need to be near her. "I'm coming home, Grace. I'm coming home."

Thank you so much for reading! Please stay tuned for Chapter 2! This is a story that was written around 1998/99 but was never completed. It was posted under an assumed name on my YR fandom website, "Just Kiddin' Around". Although writing was always a hobby of mine, I was never confident enough at that time to post it under my real name. This story is still ever evolving to build a stronger plot line and to correct grammar, but the roots are still there.

'The Young Riders' fans are the absolute best and I have nothing but the fond memories of the friendships I have had back then. The untimely death of Yvonne Suhor had ultimately led me to re-watch the series, which in turn, got me reading the fan fiction again. There are so many great stories out there and I am so happy that people are keeping this series alive. I just hope everyone is able to enjoy this story as well. Please reach out to me as I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas!

Shannon