by Karen White
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Pamela
ST. SIMONS ISLAND, GEORGIA
FEBRUARY 1815
I watched as Dr. Enlow emptied a small measure of powder into a glass of wine before handing it to me. I stirred it vigorously with a spoon, then lifted it to Geoffrey’s dry and cracked lips. His skin was pale, his cheeks gaunt, but his blue eyes remained the same, and my heart leaped as they met mine.
He turned his head away, and I almost spilled some of the precious liquid down his chin. “Geoffrey, you need to take this. Please. It will make you better.”
His eyes softened. “I heard the doctor telling you that there is barely enough for a full course of medicine for one person, much less two. Dividing what is available between Robbie and me will not cure either of us. Give it all to Robbie. I am much stronger than he is.”
I shut my eyes, as if that would make his lie disappear. I was being punished by God for the sin of choosing Geoffrey over my sister. And now I was being forced to choose between Geoffrey and our son.
I shook my head and opened my eyes again. “Dr. Enlow has more medicine at the headquarters on Cumberland. He is working on obtaining it, and it will be here soon. Please, Geoffrey. Please take it.”
He shook his head, the effort nearly exhausting him. “I am already feeling better. I will take the medicine if I need it when Dr. Enlow procures more. Give it to Robbie.”
I did not doubt the doctor’s promise that more medicine was forthcoming. If I could get both Robbie and Geoffrey started on the medication now, that would at least sustain them until the rest of the medicine arrived. “Please,” I whispered urgently in his ear, as if I’d ever been able to change his mind.
He reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Forever,” he whispered back to me. “Remember?”
I nodded, unable to trust my words to respond.
“Then do not fear my leaving you. It will all work out.”
Slowly, I stood, knowing I could not dissuade him. “You are looking better. I will give this to Robbie now, then give you a dose when Dr. Enlow returns with more.” I smiled, as if I believed that two lies could make a truth.
I led Dr. Enlow out into the hallway and closed the bedroom door. My hands were shaking so badly that he had to take the wineglass out of my hand.
“It is a blessing that you are not ill, too, Mistress Frazier. I normally see entire families afflicted.”
“I thought so, too, last summer when they were both so ill. We had been to a wedding in Savannah and returned home late, so that all the biting bugs were swarming around us. They do not like me and I sustained no bites, but Geoffrey and Robbie were covered in red welts. It was shortly after that they both became ill.” I met his troubled eyes. “At the time I did call it a blessing. Now I find that I am truly cursed. I would die with either one of them rather than survive alone.”
His voice was stern. “Do not speak of dying. I will not allow you to go into your son’s room with that word on your lips. Think of the love you have for your husband and son, and let that be your strength.”
I thought of my mother and how she had always grieved for things that had not yet happened, and for a life she had thought to have. Her grief had blinded her to the parts of her life that were good, so that in the end, none of it mattered enough to bind her to this earth.
I nodded, then took the wineglass from the doctor with a surprisingly steady hand before walking into Robbie’s bedroom.
After leaving both patients in Jemma’s care, I escorted the doctor from the house. Georgina had gone, but I could see smoke from the kitchen house, where I assumed Mary had gone and was in the process of preparing food. I could not remember the last time I had eaten, and I felt a grudging appreciation for my sister’s gift.
The doctor took my hand and kissed it. “You have much courage, Mistress Frazier. Have faith and we will see your family whole again.”
“Thank you, Doctor. And my Christian name is Pamela. I am beholden to you for all of your help.”
He gave me a sad grin. “No, Pamela. I am beholden to you for your help with the verse to send to William. I will return now to my tent and write down what you and I created so far, then post it to my wife, Catherine, in England, as I do not know when I will have time to finish it. I hope it makes it home before I do.”
My heart was too heavy for me to return his smile. “Then I wish it Godspeed.” I watched as he mounted my horse.
“Thank you for the use of your horse. You have saved my feet the long walk back to camp.”
“You are more than welcome. When do you think you will have the medicine, Dr. Enlow?”
“As soon as I can possibly get it—you have my word. And you may call me Thomas.” He settled his hat on his head. “I will be back before nightfall to return your horse.” With a wave of farewell, he dug in his heels, then trotted away down the drive.
As I turned toward the kitchen house, a familiar figure stepped out from behind the shelter of the oak tree, startling me.
I held my hand over my heart. “Nathaniel. You frightened me. Why did you not make your presence known?”
His gaze was focused on the road and the back of the retreating Thomas. “I was not sure you would want to be interrupted.”
I frowned at him, wondering what Georgina must have told him of my visitor. “Did your wife tell you that he is a British doctor who agreed to come see Geoffrey and Robbie?”
“She did, yes.” His gaze scanned my face, taking in the dark circles under my eyes, and my hair that had not been brushed since morning. “You have been suffering greatly along with your husband and child, Pamela. You must rest.”
“I cannot. But I do appreciate Georgina bringing me Mary. I have great need of her.”
Nathaniel continued to study me carefully. “I’ve come to see your husband. Geoffrey asked Georgina that I come.”
I wrapped my cloak more tightly around my neck, although I knew the sudden stab of cold had nothing to do with the scuttling clouds or the harsh wind that had begun to stir the dead leaves at my feet.
“Why would he need to see you?” My voice cracked on the last word.
Nathaniel regarded me with compassion. “We are no better than prisoners here, Pamela, and Geoffrey is ill. He will want to ensure that his affairs are in order.”
“There is no need…” I began, but my throat closed and I could say no more.
“I’ve already instructed Georgina to hide her jewelry and other small valuables, and I would advise you to do the same. I will spread the word that there is fever here, and that might protect you from looters. But I would rest better knowing that you had taken precautions. Do you have a hiding place?”
I nodded. “We have a loose stone in the chimney in the upstairs portion of the kitchen house with a small space behind it. But I have no valuables. Nothing that anybody would want to steal.”
“No jewelry?”
I shook my head. “Father gave Mother’s jewelry to Georgina. I did not want it, but she had always loved bright and shiny things.”
“What of your wedding ring?”
My right hand clasped my left hand, feeling the ridge of the wide band of gold through the worn red leather. “It has not left my finger since the day Geoffrey placed it there.”
Nathaniel cupped my hands in his own. “Even more reason to keep it safe. Better off your finger and in a safe place than taken from you and worn by the wife of a British sailor.”
I closed my eyes and nodded, understanding his reasoning. “Thank you, Nathaniel. You are right, as always, and I will take care of it now. The secret space in the chimney is a secure place. Please tell Georgina that she is welcome to make use of it.”
He squeezed my hands. “I will tell her. And I will come speak with you before I leave, to see if there is anything else you need.” His strong brow furrowed. “Georgina led me to understand that the doctor was staying here with you.”
Before I could find the words to answer him, he was shaking
his head and holding up his hand. “No, Pamela. You need not answer. I fear Georgina’s imagination has taken flight once more. I will not trouble you for a response.” He held my gloved hand to his lips and kissed it just as Thomas Enlow had done. “You know I hold you in the highest regard.”
I watched him enter the house, his words doing nothing to soothe my soul. I glanced up at Robbie’s bedroom window, feeling the pull to return to him and to Geoffrey. But first I needed to hide what valuables I had before returning to my husband and child.
I began walking toward the kitchen house, then paused as I remembered the two small oil miniatures in a silver double frame that had been delivered only the month before, when the traveling artist had returned to St. Simons. I had been saving them for Geoffrey’s birthday in March. They would not be valuable to anyone but us, but I shuddered at the thought of the rough hands of a sailor touching the delicate silver frame. Or worse, tearing out the small oil portraits to use the silver for something else.
Quickly, I retrieved the miniatures from where I’d hidden them in my sewing basket, then retreated to the kitchen house. A fire blazed from the fireplace, broth simmering in a pot hanging over it. I greeted Mary, who was in the process of kneading dough.
After assuring her that Geoffrey and Robbie both loved buttermilk biscuits, I climbed the stairs to the upper room that had been Leda’s bedroom. Crossing the room, I knelt by the fireplace, then slid off my gloves. I warily eyed a mouse hole in the baseboard, hoping I would not have company, before working the large stone back and forth in my hands to loosen it. There were no windows up here and I did not have a lamp, but I needed no light for my task. Eventually the stone gave way, and I pulled it out to reveal a dark hole behind it.
I took out the framed miniatures and kissed the top of the cold frames before sliding them into the small space behind the stone. Because of the cold, my wedding ring slid easily off of my hand. I traced my little finger against the inside, feeling the slight indentation of the engraved word there. Forever. I swallowed back the sob in my throat before placing the ring inside next to the miniatures and inserting the stone back into place.
Then I stood and brushed off my skirts, feeling that my actions were irrevocable, that I had somehow set into motion a series of events I could not alter, like pushing a stone from the top of a hill and feeling helpless to stop its momentum.
Gathering my cloak around me, I descended the stairs and returned to the house and to Robbie and Geoffrey, even more determined to make them well and to quell the sickening feeling of inevitability that seemed to follow me like a shadow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ava
ST. SIMONS ISLAND
JULY 2011
I blinked my eyes, wondering what the ringing sound was, and why I felt so cold in the middle of a St. Simons summer. I sat up and realized I was on the sofa in the parlor, where I must have moved from the bathroom. The ringing continued until my gaze focused on my cell phone that lay facedown under the table in front of me.
Still bleary headed, I answered it without looking. “Hello?”
“Hi, Ava, it’s Tish. You sound groggy. Were you on call last night?”
I scratched my head, still feeling disoriented, seeing a stone fireplace instead of the yellow-and-blue toile of the sofa. “No. What’s going on?” Even in my confused state, I remembered that Tish needed to be coerced into giving out information.
“I heard back from Dr. Hirsch at the archaeological institute.”
I stood, hoping the motion would help orient me so that I would stop expecting to see gray winter skies outside instead of clear blue. “Dr. Hirsch?” I asked, as much to prompt her as to remind myself.
“Yes—remember? We found lyrics written by a Royal Marine but submitted by a Catherine Enlow. You recognized the lyrics, and Adrienne apparently knew them, too. An associate of Dr. Hirsch’s accessed the archives in London to find the list of names of the marines here on St. Simons during the winter of 1815. Guess what he found?”
I knew. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew. “That there was a Royal Marine with the last name Enlow.”
“There were actually two, but only one was a surgeon. Guess what his first name was?”
“Thomas.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but I couldn’t stop it from tumbling from my numb lips.
She sounded surprised, like a child who’d been told there was no Easter bunny. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” I said. “There aren’t that many names that begin with a ‘T.’”
“No, I suppose not. And you’re absolutely right. So now that we have a name, Dr. Hirsch has asked his associate to do a little more research to determine what happened to Dr. Enlow. He might even be able to tell us if there are any descendants.”
“That’s great,” I said, wanting to tell her that Thomas had auburn hair and a son named William at home in Northumberland with his wife. But I couldn’t. My head began to spin again, so I began to pace. My gaze settled on the music box on top of the curio cabinet, Mimi’s words when she’d given it to me swirling through my thoughts: Some endings are really beginnings. If you don’t remember anything I’ve ever tried to teach you, remember that.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Tish’s voice sounded worried over the phone.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just woke up, so I’m a little out of it.” I turned at the sound of tires on gravel, thinking it must be my mother’s car, until I remembered that she and Mimi had taken a senior citizen’s bus tour of Savannah for the day.
“Tish, I’ve got to go. Matthew’s home early.”
She gave a wistful sigh. “Oh, I remember what it was like to be a newlywed. You won’t have much time alone once that baby gets here, so you’re smart to be doing it now.”
I didn’t correct her by telling her that I had no idea why he was home in the middle of the day, or why Adrienne’s briefcase had turned up on the banks of Dunbar Creek four years after her death. “Call me when you hear more.”
“Will do. And don’t forget the next meeting of the historical society is Thursday. I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
I hung up my phone and waited for Matthew to come inside. When nothing happened, I went to the front door and threw it open. He stood behind his car and was unfastening rope that attached a small aluminum boat on top. The boat was flat bottomed, with a square front instead of a “V” shape, wider than a canoe but about the same length. Even upside down I could read the word painted in bright red letters on the side: Ava.
His expression was like the one he wore after asking me to marry him, as if he were pleased with the world and expected everyone else to be, too. I couldn’t reconcile this Matthew with the same person who might be capable of lying to me, who could look me in the face and tell me that he didn’t know what had happened to Adrienne’s briefcase.
“Surprise!” he said, his arms open wide as he approached me. He wore his dress pants and button-down shirt, but his tie and jacket were off and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows.
All the things I’d prepared to say to him, the accusations, the questions, the doubts, vanished as I allowed myself to be enfolded in his embrace, his scent drawing me toward him like a butterfly to pollen. I hated this part of me, the part that erased all reason when I was with Matthew, the part that made me forget that I was separate from him.
“What is this?” I asked, stepping away so my thoughts could clear.
“It’s a johnboat. I’ve needed one since mine sank in a storm last year. I thought that since you think you’re ready to test the water, this would be a better choice than a sailboat. Sort of like learning to walk before running.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his pants. “But I’m not going to force you into doing anything you don’t want to do. It’ll just be there when you’re ready.”
I looked at the small boat, imagining I could feel the steady rocking of water underneath my feet, se
e bright stars sprinkled across a night sky above me, and suddenly felt shrouded in a strong sensation of being home. It was a memory of an event I didn’t remember experiencing, only that I knew that I had.
Although I was the one who had suggested I was ready to sail, I opened my mouth with an automatic response to explain that I didn’t like water, much less boats, that I needed to ask him about Adrienne’s briefcase, but instead all that came out was, “I can’t swim.”
He gave me a reassuring smile, then opened the door to the backseat of his car. “Don’t worry. I got life jackets.” He pulled out two adult-size fluorescent orange life vests and dropped them on the ground, then reached into the backseat again and pulled out a tiny replica of the two larger vests. “For the baby when he or she is older, and with his or her mother’s full consent, of course.”
I stared at the tiny vest, a voice in the back of my head reminding me that I had been the one to ask to be taken out on the water, and that he’d done this for me. I focused on the bright red letters of my name emblazoned on the side of the boat and thought again of the briefcase and all it implied, remembering something Matthew had said to me shortly after we’d moved to St. Simons. I don’t want any secrets between us. I wanted to speak to him now, to give him a chance to defend himself. But I wasn’t ready to face what would come next if he couldn’t.
“They’re not red,” I said through stiff lips, trying for levity.
“No, but I did look. Spent almost an entire day between patients calling all over the country for red life jackets in adult and child sizes, and they’re really hard to find. I hope these will work anyway.”
“They’re fine. They’re great,” I said, trying to reconcile what had transpired that morning with how I felt right now. I blinked, close to tears. “It will be all right, won’t it?” I stepped closer and buried my face in his chest so he couldn’t see my eyes.
Misunderstanding me, he said, “I’ll be with you. We’ll take it really slowly, and if at any point you’re not feeling comfortable, we’ll come right back.”