Uncharted Journey (The Uncharted Series Book 6)

by Keely Brooke Keith

  “And find Tim?”

  When she nodded, he set the kettle on an iron trivet and walked toward the back door. “I’m coming too.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, taking a jacket from a row of silver hooks in the wall by the door.

  When she’d dreamed of the life she might live in the Land, she hadn’t considered the traditionalist culture meant having men hover over her as if she couldn’t protect herself. They had no idea what she was capable of. “Look, Revel, I can take care of myself.”

  Though her words came out with more of a defensive tone than she’d intended, Revel simply nodded. “I know you don’t need me to go with you, but I need to do the next thing too.” He reached around her and opened the door. “The reason I’m up early is to go back to the shore. It bothered me that we didn’t find your friend yesterday. The way I see it, you are welcome to go with me.” A slight grin curved the edge of his mouth. “After you, ma’am.”

  Ma’am? She would let that one slide. If his manners were supposed to mean anything more than kindness, he was in for disappointment. Her desire for finding a family in no way included making one. She didn’t return his grin. “Fine. We can split up and cover more ground. Two is better than one—”

  “Because they have a good reward for their labor.”

  His continuance of the Bible verse she’d started to recite made her smile. “Yeah, something like that.”

  He closed the door behind them. “How is your leg?”

  “Hm? Oh, fine.” She inhaled the humid predawn air and glanced at Revel’s profile. “It’s scarred, but the gray leaf medicine healed the wound quickly. It was amazing.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard.”

  “You never needed it?”

  He shook his head. “But the gray leaf medicine saved my brother James’s life a couple of months ago. He hated it.”

  Recalling the euphoric sensation, she wondered how the inhabitants of the Land resisted drinking cup after cup of it simply to feel good. “Your brother hated drinking the gray leaf tea?”

  “Many people don’t like it.”

  She walked between the back of the house and the doctor’s office. The downstairs windows were dark, but the glow of a lantern illumined an upstairs window. Sophia must be up early. She looked back at Revel. “Why would someone not like the gray leaf?”

  “Probably fear.”

  “Of what?”

  “Old stories. There’s one about how a horse died after it ate a few gray leaves. One about how the gray leaf tea put a young woman in a coma and she almost died. Another says it made a man infertile. Those sorts of stories.”

  “So, is the gray leaf unreliable or is the folklore?”

  “Probably both.” Revel chuckled. There was more to him than shell-shocked regret. He motioned to the ground as they navigated between trees. “Watch your step through here. Lots of roots.”

  Twigs crackled with each footstep when they neared the forest at the back of John’s property. The oval-shaped moon wasn’t as bright as it had been two nights ago, and first light had yet to grace the sky. She didn’t need much light to know her way to the shore by now. She’d walked this path several times already, having spent yesterday combing the shore and only returning to the house when John told her it was mealtime.

  The hum of the waves reminded Bailey of the beaches in Accomack, especially after the barrier islands had washed away. As they walked toward the waterline on the hard-packed sand, the black sky lightened to gray then to pale lavender.

  Revel put a hand in front of her, stopping her. “Don’t go any closer to the water. The tide is about to change. The surface is only calm for a few minutes during the full moon—like it was when you came ashore night before last.”

  At first, she found his warning overcautious, but the growing light gave her a clearer look at the incoming water. Quick swirls in the sand under the receding waves demonstrated its harsh undertow. She didn’t need to go into the water anyway. Tim was on the shore somewhere; she just knew it. She scanned the beach in both directions. “Where to start?”

  Revel pointed south. “Since we won’t be able to go past the bluffs once the tide comes in, let’s start there.”

  She hadn’t meant to ask for his advice but took it anyway. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  Seagulls scurried up and down the shore. The light of the coming dawn grew, aiding her search for any sign of Professor Tim. It had been thirty-six hours since they’d said goodbye on the yacht. Her last image of him was while he was packing his bag, wearing the white bucket hat he claimed was lucky. The hat didn’t matter as much as what he’d put in his bag. “I hope he has his medicine with him.”

  “What type of medicine?”

  “Insulin. He’s diabetic.”

  Revel took his eyes off the beach long enough to look at her. “What would happen to him if he didn’t have it?”

  “Sometimes he can go awhile without it and feel fine. But if his blood sugar dropped low enough, he could get very sick.” She had to shout over the waves’ loud crashing. “I didn’t bring him out here to die. I’m counting on Tim’s survival to make all of this okay.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If he dies, it is all my fault.”

  Revel stopped walking. Bailey had said too much. She hadn’t meant to create a sentimental moment with him. Something about his openness made her let down her guard. She shouldn’t. Ever.

  But he wasn’t looking at her; he was looking past her at some tussock grass where the wind-tossed sand met the wilderness. Something yellow was caught in the bottom of the grass.

  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to it.

  She hurried ahead of him to check it out. Waist-high grass blades swished in the breeze. She pushed the long blades out of her face and grabbed the wet object. The emblem on it matched the yacht company’s logo. “It’s a life vest.”

  At her announcement, Revel’s eyes widened. He jumped toward the high grass and searched frantically. Bailey dropped the vest and moved the surrounding grass, folding it in one direction then the other. “Tim? Tim?”

  Her calls went unanswered.

  After several minutes of searching, Revel had gone some twenty yards down the shore. His tall frame was bent over, swallowed by high grass. He stood erect and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Bailey! Come here!”

  The ocean’s furious waves crashed against the rocks between the sea and the tall grass, spraying her with salty mist. She ran toward Revel. He knelt to the ground and stood again, holding up something white. It was made of thick cloth and regained its shape when he gave it a quick shake. Part of it was embroidered with a little black giraffe silhouette.

  Bailey’s feet slowed as she got closer. Each step felt like she was walking in thick tar. “That is Tim’s lucky hat.”

  She took the hat from Revel. Tim never would have removed his lucky hat. A scientist with a superstition. Even he’d laughed at himself for that one. Everything else that had been in his boat, including his remains, would soon wash ashore if it hadn’t already. She rubbed a thumb over the embroidered giraffe. “He didn’t survive, did—” her voice caught, taking her words and her hope with it.

  Revel shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Bailey.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  An overcast sky dimmed the afternoon light in the kitchen, so Eva opened the pantry doors wider to see inside it. She turned the jars on the shelves to check their labels, and Sybil immediately straightened the jars back into perfect rows. After making a note on her inventory list, Eva chuckled at Sybil. “Could you at least wait until I have my arms out of the way before you start that?”

  “Start what?” Sybil frowned, drawing her full lips into a cute pout.

  “You know exactly what.”

  “You get to have your messy office, and I get to keep my kitchen tidy.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Sybil’s expression swiftly chang
ed then as though she suddenly had a secret. “Did he say anything before he left this morning?”

  “Who?”

  A faint blush colored Sybil’s cheeks. “Isaac.”

  “Isaac Owens? About the farm job?”

  “Yes, did he accept your offer?”

  Eva counted the cans of cherries next. “He did.” Just as she wrote down the number, Sybil squealed like a wrong note on the violin. The sound startled Eva, and she broke the tip of her pencil. “What was that for?”

  Sybil’s smile broadened. “When does he start?”

  The pure bliss in her sister’s eyes betrayed her infatuation. Still, Eva had to ask. “Are you intrigued with him?”

  “No.” She tried to erase the emotion from her face to no avail. “No, I’m just thrilled we will finally have more help around here. For Leonard and Father and you, of course. I know how badly you wanted to hire someone.” She pretended to busy herself with the jars, but another happy squeal filled the pantry.

  Eva set her pencil and notebook on a shelf and turned her sister by the shoulders. “Tell me everything.”

  Sybil’s blue eyes were brighter than ever. “He came into the kitchen after dinner last night and said my cooking was delicious.”

  “And?”

  “And I told him thank you. At least I think that’s what I said.”

  “And?”

  “And then he said goodnight.”

  There had to be more interaction between them to make Sybil fall in love. Eva waved a hand prompting her sister to continue. “And?”

  “And…” Sybil shrugged. “He was so handsome, and the way he said it was so sincere. He looked at me like I was more than a cook. Like I mattered. Isn’t he wonderful?”

  “That was it? He complimented your cooking and you fell in love. Don’t be so quick to give your heart away, Syb.”

  “I’m not giving anything away. It was sweet, that’s all.” Her gaze drifted to the ceiling. “There was something about him that was just so… so…”

  “Handsome? Yes, I know.”

  “When does he move here?”

  “He has to work at his current job until his boss finds someone to replace him.”

  “Will he still come to stay at the inn while trading until he can work here forever?”

  Eva had never seen her sister in love before. She half wanted to squeal along with her and half wanted to send a message to Isaac, revoking the job offer. What if he didn’t share Sybil’s feelings? What if he moved here to do a job and broke her sister’s heart? There was only one way to deal with this: get back to work. She picked up her pencil and pointed into the pantry. “It will probably be a couple of months before he moves here. I’d like to finish taking inventory before then, all right?”

  As Sybil smiled in response, the screen door slammed and Zeke ran into the kitchen, waving his hands. “Mama! Mama, come quick!”

  He’d probably found a dead bird or his puppy had pulled the laundry off the line. Eva sighed at her adorably flustered son and slid her pencil into her apron pocket. “What is it, Zeke?”

  Zeke’s red face huffed with each quick breath. He shook his head frantically. “It’s Leonard. He fell from the harvester, and Solo had to carry him to the cottage.”

  Sybil sucked in a shocked breath.

  The terror in Zeke’s eyes held more than childish exaggeration. Eva’s heart doubled its pace. She pointed at the staircase. “Go tell Claudia what happened. She’s upstairs, changing sheets.” Then she looked at Sybil. “Make some gray leaf tea in case Leonard is injured.”

  As Zeke ran down the hallway and Sybil turned to the stove, Eva hurried out the side door toward the cottage. The screen banged behind her, and her skirt swished with each fearful stride.

  She found Leonard inside the cozy cottage’s only bedroom. He was lying on top of the quilted bed, unresponsive. Solo was gently pulling the older man’s boots off his feet. He snapped his concerned face toward the bedroom doorway when Eva stepped in.

  “What happened?” she demanded, as she rushed to Leonard’s side.

  “I’m not sure. I think he slipped coming down from the harvester. He hit the ground hard.” A catch broke Solo’s voice. “I got to him as quick as I could.”

  She lifted Leonard’s limp hand, wondering where exactly doctors touched to feel a heartbeat. Leonard’s chest rose and fell steadily, so he was still breathing. Her own pulse thudded in her ears. She tried to speak with a calm voice as if she were just waking him from a nap. “Leonard? Leonard, it’s Eva. Can you hear me?”

  Solo was motionless, hovering over Leonard from the other side of the bed, waiting for a response too.

  None came.

  The cottage door opened, and Claudia dashed inside with Zeke close behind her. Solo stepped away from the bed as the room got crowded.

  Claudia touched her husband’s face with desperate hands. “Oh, Leonard! Speak to me!”

  Solo set Leonard’s boots on the floor at the foot of the bed and backed out of the room. “I can ride to Riverside to get the doctor, if you think I should.”

  Tears slid down Claudia’s face. Her hands shook. “Leonard, please open your eyes.”

  Eva’s heart ached for Claudia. She knew what it felt like to beg a husband to wake up. Hers never did. A lump of emotion clogged her throat. She gave Leonard’s hand one last rub and stood. “We will get the doctor here as quickly as we can, and Sybil is making gray leaf tea.”

  Zeke flung his arms around her waist, weeping.

  She stroked his hair gently while she spoke to Solo. “Yes, please get the doctor. You won’t make it to Riverside until after dark. You will have to pace the horse, so you don’t wear him out before you get there.”

  He squared his shoulders. “I know how to handle a horse.”

  She hadn’t meant to offend the one man she needed. “Yes, of course you do.” She touched his arm. “I’ll pack food for you and for the doctor to eat on the ride back here tomorrow. Ask father which of our horses would be best to take.”

  Solo slapped on his hat then flashed his confident gaze at her over his shoulder. “I already know.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eva shifted a lunch basket to the crook of her arm then knocked softly on the cottage door. When no one answered, she let herself in. The iron hinges on the door creaked mournfully as she closed it behind her.

  Claudia was sitting in a cane-back rocking chair beside the bed where Leonard had been lying unconscious since yesterday afternoon. When the older woman glanced up, Eva raised the basket. “I brought you lunch.”

  “Not hungry.”

  “You should eat. He will need you to be strong when he wakes up.” Though the words were different, the bolstered hope in her tone reminded her of the way people spoke to her after Ezekiel’s death. That was different. Her husband had died in his sleep; Leonard was still breathing. And they didn’t know what injury Leonard had sustained in the fall—there were no bruises or cuts. He might awaken at any moment and be fine.

  She would not lose hope, nor would she forget how it felt to lose her husband. She set the food basket on a side table and knelt by Claudia. “Any change?”

  Claudia shook her head. “Every hour or so he groans and shifts a little. That’s it.” Her chin quivered and she sniffed. “He won’t open his eyes. Won’t say anything to me. I asked him to squeeze my hand if he could hear me, but he didn’t respond.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She rubbed Claudia’s arm the same way Claudia had rubbed hers when Ezekiel was buried. “At least he is stirring every so often. That’s a good sign.”

  Claudia looked up with rounded eyes as if she was eager to believe anything hopeful. “Do you think so?”

  “Yes, I do. We’ll keep praying for him and trust the Lord to heal him.”

  Hoofbeats thudded the ground outside the cottage. Eva stood and peeled the curtain away from the window. “They’re here!”

  As she opened the door, Solo swung down from a white horse Eva did
n’t recognize. He must have swapped her father’s horse in Riverside for a fresh horse. He looped the reins around a hitching post, and the doctor did the same. Both men walked stiffly toward the cottage, backs bent from riding for several hours straight.

  Solo stopped before the door and let the doctor enter first. He took off his hat. “Eva, this is Doc—”

  “We’ve met.” She hadn’t seen the man since Ezekiel’s death. “Thank you for coming, Doctor.”

  The gray-haired gentleman nodded once.

  Eva opened her hand toward the bedroom door. “Through there.”

  She stayed in the cottage’s tight entryway with Solo while the doctor went into the bedroom and closed the door. Claudia’s muffled voice explained Leonard’s condition and the doctor asked her questions. It was an exchange Eva had encountered before and hoped never to again.

  She faced the open doorway and scanned the back of the inn across the yard. Sybil stepped out to the side porch and rang the lunch bell. Eva’s vision lost focus as she watched her sister. “I told Zeke to eat lunch with his grandpa, but he’s probably too worried to eat.”

  Solo caught her eye. “I can stay with the doc if you need to go back to the house.”

  “No, I want to be here for Claudia in case it’s bad news.”

  The concern in Solo’s unrelenting gaze made her want to talk to him, to tell him everything, but she couldn’t. Not everything, not now. She returned her stare to the back of the inn. “Zeke was pretty upset this morning at breakfast. He has eaten every meal at the same table with Father and Leonard and Claudia his whole life. He doesn’t understand why Leonard won’t wake up. I should go check on him.”

  Solo put a warm hand on her shoulder. “Go ahead. I’ll stay here with them.”

  The faint sound of Claudia’s sniffles came from the bedroom. Eva’s insides ached. “No, I shouldn’t leave now.”

  Dark circles under his eyes attested to his lack of sleep last night. He pointed a thumb toward the inn. “Would you like me to go check on Zeke?”