Elusive Hope

by Marylu Tyndall

  “Closed?” Her voice was so despondent, it nearly broke him.

  “We’ll go first thing in the morning.” If—and only if—Hayden discovered his father had returned to America.

  He turned down Rosario Street, where, if he remembered correctly, there was a hotel, Hotel d’Europe, which favored foreign guests. The least he could do before he swindled Magnolia out of most of her money—if it came to that—would be to provide her a decent room, a bath, and some food.

  Shops lined the narrow street, their second stories housing for city dwellers. Carne secca and dried cod, along with bags of feijjoes and Minas cheeses sat in piles in front of the stores, emitting the most foul odor. Magnolia shifted her parasol and drew a hand to her nose, but her gaze soon found the bay and all discomfort vanished from her face.

  “Look at the ships! Can you tell if any are American?” She halted, her eyes skittering over the water.

  With the sun low in the sky behind them, the bay of Rio De Janeiro spread a panorama of glistening emerald across the horizon, dotted with boats, barges, and ships of all sizes: steamers, frigates, sloughs, brigs, and a Dutch trading ship, from what Hayden could tell. Large barks with high lateen sails, navigated by Negroes and laden with fruit, sped across the bay to the various pretty islets strewn like gems across the water.

  “We’ll check tomorrow. Come along.” He offered his hand but she drew her valise to her chest and hugged it instead, giving him a look of suspicion. “Where are we going?”

  “To get you a room for the night. You’d like a bath and a real bed, wouldn’t you?”

  Her face lit. Followed by a flash of her pretty white teeth. It was the first smile she had graced him with in several days. And he hated how good it made him feel. Like he was worthy. Like she trusted him. Like he’d do anything to keep that smile on her pink lips.

  Even pay for the room at the Hotel d’Europe with his own money. Seven dollars. Good thing they accepted American money and didn’t expect Reis, the local currency. Yet now Hayden had only five dollars left in his pockets. At least until tomorrow.

  After unlocking the door to the room, Magnolia spun to face him, a look of horror on her face. “Where are you going to stay?”

  Hayden rubbed the stubble on his chin and grinned. He’d love to tease her and insist they share the room, but she looked so pathetic and tired standing there in her stained, ripped gown and dirt-smudged skin, her hair all askew. “Is that an invitation?” All right, so he couldn’t resist a little taunting.

  “Of course not! How dare you insinuate—”

  Hayden placed a finger on her lips. “Don’t vex yourself, Princess, I can take care of myself.”

  At this, her eyes narrowed, and she swatted his hand away. “Very well.” She set down her valise and started to close the door.

  Hayden’s boot halted its progress. “Why don’t we settle accounts now?” He held out his hand. Something about the woman’s demeanor pricked his suspicion. Surely she wasn’t planning on running off before she paid him. She couldn’t be that devious. Besides, she still needed him to escort her to the dock master tomorrow.

  One brow lifted above eyes alight with enough mischief to confirm Hayden’s suspicions.

  “Do you take me for a complete fool?”

  Hayden smiled. Well…

  “Our bargain was that you’d bring me to the dock master. Besides, I won’t know how much I have left over until I purchase my ticket.” She pushed on the door then let out an exasperated sigh. “Now, if you’ll please remove your mammoth boot, I’d like to rest.”

  Hayden studied her as she stared at the floor. Something wasn’t right. But whether it was simply the woman’s normal theatrics or something far more duplicitous he didn’t know. He blew out a sigh. Magnolia was spoiled and pretentious and the most frustrating woman he’d ever met, but she wasn’t shrewd. Especially not shrewd enough to trick the likes of him.

  “If you try to run away with the money, Princess, I’ll find you at the dock master’s in the morning. There’s only one in town.”

  Anger flared across her eyes, but only for a moment before she rubbed her forehead and leaned on the door as if she were going to faint. “I would never do such a thing. I’m just so tired, Hayden.”

  He shook his head, wondering whether to believe a word this woman said. “How about I return in a couple hours and escort you to dinner?”

  She raised her eyes to his. Where moments before they’d spiked with annoyance, now they softened with what looked like sorrow. But that couldn’t be.

  “Thank you. That will be lovely,” she said with a weak smile.

  Hayden resisted the urge to run a finger over her cheek, to feel its softness, to see her response. Instead, he withdrew his boot. “Until then.” He backed away from the door, expecting her to slam it on him. But she stared at him for another minute, her eyes becoming pools, before she closed it with a click that nipped his heart.

  Reflecting on the woman’s odd behavior, Hayden passed the time strolling the city streets, gazing at the oddities of this foreign place. Curiosity led him past the immigration office, just to see if it was open, and then inside when he found the door ajar. Though he’d wanted to have Magnolia—and her money—with him when he questioned Mr. Santos, he couldn’t help himself from inquiring whether the man was there. A pudgy, grease-faced fellow wearing a suit that had gone out of fashion a decade ago informed Hayden, in rather broken English, that the immigration officer was away and wouldn’t return until tomorrow. However, if the matter was urgent, Hayden might find him that evening at a party at the home of Adelino Manuel Guerra da Costa, one of the city’s magistrates. The squirrely man even gave Hayden directions, but then quickly chastised himself with a chuckle saying that the party was by invitation only. His brandy-drenched belch a moment later confirmed Hayden’s suspicions that the man would probably have given Hayden his mother as a gift if he had asked.

  Regardless, Hayden emerged from the office into the heat of the languishing day with a huge smile on his face. He’d rather meet Santos with an advantage—a rather beautiful advantage carrying a pouch of gold. How could any man resist Magnolia? Within moments of lavishing him with her Southern charm, Mr. Santos would melt like warm butter in her hands. And Hayden would discover his father’s whereabouts—if the swine had even returned to Rio. If not, perhaps he’d sent one of his colonists with information on a new location as Blake wanted Hayden to do. Hayden knew the immigration office kept updated records of each colony’s precise acreage and position, and since his father was not where Mr. Santos had originally told Hayden he would be, he must have moved to a new area and reported the change. A huge gamble, but a reasonable one, and the only option Hayden had at the moment for finding the man. And finally ending his lifelong quest. Finally putting things right. For him. For his mother.

  Alternatively, if his father had sailed back to America, Hayden would be able to escort Magnolia home and ensure her safety. He wouldn’t have to swindle her, wouldn’t have to betray her trust and return her to New Hope. For the first time in his life, the thought of not cheating someone pleased him immensely, along with the thought of spending more time with the lady.

  He shook his head, wondering if he’d contracted some brain-eating jungle fever, for she’d done nothing but annoy him to distraction these past five days. No, that wasn’t true. The lady had surprised him in more ways than one. The sad story of the debt she owed her father, how he used her for her beauty like some prize horse, how some swindler broke her heart, her concern over Hayden’s unhappy past, her resilience these past few days—all had stirred something in his soul. Made him realize that, despite the wide gulf in their social standing, they weren’t so different after all. Both of them wore masks to hide deep inner pain. And both were desperately searching for something to ease that pain.

  Weaving around a Chinaman selling fish, Hayden shifted his thoughts to the immigration officer, Mr. Santos. A safer topic. If he waited until tomorrow to tal
k to the snake, he’d have to find a way to delay Magnolia from seeking passage on her ship. Besides, it had been awhile since he’d attended a party. He smiled. But how to sneak into the lavish affair without notice? And where to find some decent attire?

  Preoccupied with his thoughts, he missed the turn and headed down a narrow avenue. Not until the clamor of voices, shouts of vendors, and bray of donkeys faded did he realize he was going in the wrong direction. Heat spiraled from the tiled roofs of houses lining the dirt road. He halted, spun around, and headed back, passing a group of abandoned buildings and a church that was no more than a mud hut with a raised tin roof and a brass crucifix affixed above the front door. The words “Igreja” were hand written on a sign tacked to the wall.

  Wiping the sweat from the back of his neck, Hayden hurried past when the front door swung open and a thin man wearing a black priest’s robe started toward Hayden. Ignoring him, Hayden continued walking. The last thing he needed was some castigating sermon. Yet, before he took two steps, the man touched his arm and spun him around.

  “Portuguese?”

  “Sorry.” Hayden shook his head and continued onward.

  “English then?” The priest followed him, a silly smile on his angular mouth.

  “What can I do for you?” Hayden sighed and faced the man. An odd looking man for a priest. His slanted eyes, along with a long gray braid running down the back of his robe gave him a Far Eastern appearance. Yet his skin was brown, his body more reed-like than muscular.

  The priest grew somber, his dark eyes studying Hayden as if searching for something. “You come from jungle, right? You part of colony from America, right?”

  “Yes.” Hayden’s annoyance grew. All good guesses based on his appearance and accent. “I have no money, sir.” He started walking again.

  The man grabbed Hayden’s arm. “Beware. Evil. Much evil there. Many men die. Many men disappear.”

  “What are you talking about?” Hayden wanted to call the man an old fool and walk away, but one didn’t say that to a priest, even a crazy one. Sure, Hayden was probably going to hell—if there was such a place—but there was no sense in adding insulting a man of God to his list of crimes. But perhaps…“Do you know a man named Owen Godard?” Hayden spoke the alias his father had used on his journey to Brazil.

  The priest shook his head and tightened his grip on Hayden’s arm. “Many disappear.”

  “Did Mr. Godard disappear?”

  “I do not know this man.”

  “Then who disappeared?”

  “Other colonists like you. And men from Rio. Even priests who go to fight.”

  “Fight?” Hayden glanced down the street, anxious to leave.

  “Fight the evil. From the lagos incendito.” He folded his lips together and studied the ground as if expecting it to explode beneath his feet. Then he gripped Hayden’s arm even tighter, his eyes flashing. “Fire lake beneath temple.”

  Hayden didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for the deranged man. Still, he hadn’t time for this. He gently removed the man’s boney fingers. “Fire lake, eh? Thank you for the warning. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned and felt the claw-like grip on his arm once again.

  “No. You listen. Much evil. Men not survive. Some tell of invisible beasts. See many visions. Some go mad.”

  Visions. Now the man had his attention. “How do you know about the visions? Where do they come from?”

  “The beasts. They must be defeated.”

  “Beasts? Like wolves and jaguars?”

  “No.” He gripped Hayden’s other arm, swerving him to face him. “Not natural. Not human. Only God can protect.”

  God again. How could a God who couldn’t protect an orphan on the streets of Charleston possibly save them from these beasts?—if they even existed. No doubt the priest had seen some visions of his own.

  Hayden placated him with a smile and a pat on his arm. “I promise to be careful.” Tearing from his grip, Hayden stormed ahead. I promise to not come down this street again!

  This time the man didn’t follow him. But his authoritative voice did.

  “Only one way to defeat. Only one way. You must go back. You are one of six. Consult the book. Only the six can defeat the evil.”

  Hayden wanted to ask him six what, but reason kept him moving. Evil, indeed. Outside of man’s own selfishness, did evil even exist? Yet Hayden couldn’t deny the heaviness that had weighed on him at the temple and the visions he’d seen—Katherine and the one of his father in the jungle.

  Shaking the thoughts from his head, he reached the end of the street and started for the hotel. Just the ramblings of a crazy old priest. Or were they?

  CHAPTER 14

  In all her twenty-three years, Magnolia had never enjoyed a bath so much. Though the water was brown and had a coppery smell to it, and the tub itself was nothing but a sawed off ship’s barrel, and the maids had dropped towels of questionable cleanliness on the dirty floor, Magnolia didn’t care. She relished in the caress of warm water on her skin, washing away the grime and grit and filth of the past five days. If only she could wash away her fears for her future as well. Now, as she stood at the open window in her chemise, gazing at the ships teetering in the bay, and battling the hopeless tangles in her hair, those fears rose again like tenacious flood waters, threatening to drown her.

  It was one thing to tromp through the jungle with Hayden protecting her, and quite another to face a journey on one of those ships with no one to stand up for her, no one to defend her should a sailor get the wrong idea about her traveling alone. And then, once in the States, she would have to find her way, unescorted, to her aunt and uncle’s. Would they even take her in? Did they still live in the same home in Ohio? Since the war, they had not been on the best of terms with Magnolia’s parents. Or perhaps it would be better to seek out Samuel in Atlanta. Surely he would provide for her until they could be married. Although the last time she’d seen him, he’d slammed out of their home in Roswell, leapt into his waiting carriage, and driven away in a rage.

  “Humph!” Her father had joined her on their wide front porch. “It appears the man has a temper. I’ve done you a favor, Magnolia.”

  “Of course he was angry, Father. You broke off our engagement. Went back on your word as a gentleman. And for what?” She batted away her tears. “Because he doesn’t make enough money? Isn’t high enough on the social ladder? It isn’t fair!” She’d rarely spoken to her father in that tone, but as she’d continued to gaze at Samuel’s carriage rumbling away, she saw her future rumble away with him.

  Her father swung to face her, his jaw tight. “If you hadn’t played the fool and lost the family fortune, I wouldn’t be forced to make such hard choices.” Indignation puffed out his cheeks even as his eyes grew narrow and cold. “Thank God we still have a sliver of our good name. Something, along with your beauty, that should lure a better positioned and wealthier prospect.”

  Magnolia wilted beneath his fury and gazed down at her pink, tasseled shoes, lest he see her cry again.

  “You have no right to speak to me of what is fair,” he continued, his voice thundering. “You have ruined us and you will unruin us. Or by God you’ll put me in an early grave!”

  At that moment Magnolia finally realized she would forever be under her father’s thumb. Like their few remaining house slaves, her life was his. He owned her, and he would never let her forget.

  Of course she and Samuel had continued secretly corresponding. He still loved her and wished to marry her. And she, him. But no amount of convincing, cajoling, or crying had changed her father’s mind. And after multiple attempts to wed her off to what remained of the landed gentry, wealthy politicians, and elite families in Georgia, he’d given up, sold what little they owned, and booked passage to Brazil. Apparently, the news of Magnolia’s scandal had swept through Georgia like wildfire, and no decent gentleman with a reputation to uphold would consider joining himself with their family. But in Brazil “the slate would
be wiped clean and no one would be the wiser,” her father had said when he announced his decision. “And Brazil boasts of many wealthy land owners as well as those of royal descent with whom we can align ourselves.”

  Magnolia only had time to send a quick dispatch to Samuel, informing him of her father’s plans. But word was he had gone into hiding after the war, and she had no idea if he’d received it or if he still loved her.

  And, of course, now that she’d run away, she would never pay her debt to her father. She was a horrible, disrespectful daughter who only thought of herself. He’d told her that on so many occasions, she’d begun to believe it. Perhaps it was true, after all.

  She combed through the last tangle and watched as a mulatto woman, four children in tow, walked past the hotel, each with baskets of fruit on their heads. The briny scent of the bay drifted in with the wind, floating atop the sickly sweet smell of decaying fruit. It was a peculiar city. A peculiar, beautiful city. A city filled with the most unusual, exotic people.

  And yet she felt more alone in the world than she ever had. Would Hayden even come back? The way she’d treated him, she wouldn’t blame him if he abandoned her to begin his search for whomever or whatever he was looking for. But then again, he would want his money, wouldn’t he? Her chest tightened. If only the dock master was open, she’d be long gone. As it was, she’d have to find a way to run away in the morning, purchase a ticket, and board a ship without Hayden’s knowledge.

  Her hands shook and she clasped them together. Nearly two days without a drink had taken its toll on her body. Perhaps that was why her thoughts spun in such a whirlwind.

  A knock on the door startled her and Hayden’s voice on the other side caused an unavoidable smile to form on her lips. Coughing it away, she forced the traitorous glee from her voice and replaced it with petulance. “I’m not ready yet, Hayden. What do you want?”

  “How would you like to go shopping, Princess?”

  Shopping? She could almost see that pleased-with-himself grin of his through the door. “Shopping for what?”