Elusive Hope

by Marylu Tyndall

  James released a heavy sigh and rubbed the scar on his cheek. “You could stay with the colony too. Why run away if she is gone?”

  “You seem to forget my father is still here.”

  “If what you say about him is true, he won’t be here for long.”

  Indeed. The man would either find his gold and leave or give up and move on to the next conquest. Regardless, even if his father left, New Hope was too full of memories. Hayden would see Magnolia’s face everywhere he turned, catch glimpses of her flaxen hair among the leaves, picture those sapphire eyes staring at him from across the fire. No. He couldn’t do it. Better to have a clean break, get far away from any reminders. Of her and his father.

  “Look, I appreciate what you both are doing.”No one had ever cared enough for him to look out for his best interests. The thought brought a burning sensation to his throat. He swallowed it down and glanced out the window. He would truly miss his friends. “But I must go.”

  Blake spun around to face him. “Do you love her?”

  He wanted to say no. That she was just a passing fancy like so many other women in his life. But Magnolia was so much more than that. She was all spark and spunk and wit and courage, tenacity, kindness, and goodness. Besides, his newfound faith forbade him to lie. “More than anything.”

  “Then go to her, man,” Blake said.

  Hayden hung his head and stared at the packed dirt that made up the floor of his hut. “She was with my father. I cannot shake it from my mind. I don’t think I ever can.”

  James gripped his shoulder. “Then you must ask God for help.”

  Blake nodded his agreement. “I understand what you are suffering. I thought I could never look at Eliza without remembering what her husband did to my brother. But God can heal all those memories, all those wounds. Like James said, you have but to ask.”

  “At least say good-bye to her.” James raised a brow. “She inquired about you this morning, before she and her parents followed Barclay to the coast, wondering if you were awake.”

  “I’ve never seen a woman so distraught,” Blake added. “Her parents had to drag her away sobbing. Doesn’t seem like a lady happy about her upcoming nuptials, if you ask me.”

  “Sobbing?” Hayden shifted his boots over the dirt. Why was she sobbing? All she’d talked about during the entire trip to Rio was Samuel this and Samuel that. Could she really be that upset about leaving New Hope? About leaving Hayden?

  “Truss it.” James glanced out the window and groaned. “They’ve probably already set sail. Captain Barclay wanted an early start.”

  Hayden’s gaze shifted between his friends, the urgency in their eyes igniting a fire in his heart. And then in his legs. Without a word, he dashed from the hut, tore down the street, and barreled into the jungle, all the while praying that Magnolia was still there.

  A wave crashed upon the shore, reaching its foamy fingers toward Magnolia. For a fleeting moment, she thought to step into it—hoping the waves would grab her feet and drag her out to sea, down into the cool waters where all was silent and calm. Where her life would slowly leak from her body and abandon her to peace.

  Her parents stood a ways off, chattering excitedly about finally leaving Brazil and returning to civilization and the lifestyle they deserved. But Magnolia drowned them out, instead focusing on the warble of birds, the buzz of insects, the flutter of leaves—all playing a melodious orchestra behind her. The delicate hum of life. A lump formed in her throat. She would miss it. How odd that she would miss it so! Those sounds would always remind her of her time with Hayden in the jungle. The best time of her life. She nearly chuckled at the thought. The entire trip she’d been nothing but hungry and tired and hot and sweaty and covered with bug bites. She’d slept on a hard bed of bamboo, had been attacked by bats and a snake and nearly eaten by a wolf.

  And she’d been deliriously happy.

  Pulling the toad Hayden had carved for her from her pocket, she fingered each curve and line. It truly looked like a toad. From the large eyeballs protruding from its head, to the thin dish-shaped mouth, to the rounded body, and the tiny webbed toes. Amazing talent. Memories of all the times she’d called him a toad surfaced to make her giggle even as tears slipped from her eyes. At least she would always have this part of him.

  Shouts rang from the ship. Squinting, she ran her gaze over the silhouette of the brig, its masts stark against the rising sun. A beautiful ship, indeed. Then why, whenever she saw it, did her stomach sink to her shoes?

  One of Captain Barclay’s sailors began rowing the skiff to retrieve them after bringing his captain and the other men on board. It was only a matter of minutes now before her feet would leave the shores of Brazil forever. She should be happy, elated! She would marry Samuel, be well positioned in society, and live in ease and luxury. A month ago, this would have been the happiest day of her life. But a month ago, she had been a different person. Now, those things no longer mattered to her. She knew her value came from God, from the changes He wrought within her, not from adornments she placed without. She’d even looked in her mirror that morning, expecting to see herself old and wrinkled, but found some of the lines on her face had softened, some of the bald patches on her head had filled in with hair. It was a good start. But it came too late to save her relationship with Hayden.

  She really couldn’t blame him. Nor could she blame God. She, alone, was responsible for entangling herself with Patrick Gale. She would accept the consequences, no matter how bitter. And God’s will would be done in the end. A breeze swirled around her, and she raised her face to the sun, basking in the warm fingers of heaven’s love. Though her heart was breaking, she belonged to God now. All would be well.

  The boat struck shore and the sailor leapt out, splashing through the water as he dragged it onto the sand.

  “Come now, darling!” her mother shouted as the man hefted their portmanteau into the craft.

  The sooner she left, the better. With a heavy sigh, Magnolia slipped the toad into her pocket and started toward them.

  “Magnolia!”

  She was surely hearing things, conjuring Hayden’s voice from her memories, perhaps to instill it in her heart. But there was no need for that. She would never forget the deep, raspy timbre. When she reached her parents, their eyes sped behind her, widening in alarm.

  “Magnolia!”

  She turned to see Hayden marching toward her through the sand, his dark hair blowing behind him, his shirt flapping in the breeze, a look of longing and determination on his face.

  Her heart stopped beating. The breath leached from her lungs. And elusive hope sprouted fresh within her again.

  Hayden’s overwhelming relief at seeing Magnolia was shoved aside by a much more powerful emotion—fear. Fear that he’d face her and see only his father, despite the petitions he’d lifted up to God on his sprint through the jungle. Fear that she’d come to her senses during the night and realized Wimby was a much better prospect. Fear he’d have to accept, once and for all, living without her. But as he drew close, the look in her eyes spoke of none of those things. In fact, he saw nothing but love and hope and pleading expectation.

  Mr. and Mrs. Scott clutched both her arms and dragged her to the boat. “Time to go!” her father shouted. “We mustn’t keep the captain waiting.”

  The sailor clasped Magnolia’s hand to assist her into the wobbly craft while her father grabbed the other. And for a moment Hayden thought he’d lost her.

  But suddenly, she tore away from them both, and clutching her skirts, headed toward him. How lovely she looked with the sea breeze dancing through her hair and the sunlight painting gold on loose strands about her neck, her pink lips slightly parted in expectation and a flush blossoming on her cheeks. Hayden’s breath escaped him.

  “Get back here at once, Magnolia!” Mr. Scott shouted, while Mrs. Scott held a hand to her mouth.

  “In a moment, Father. I will speak to the man,” she replied without turning around. Mr. Scott, his face
red and blustery, started to follow her, but she swung to face him. “In private.” The shock of her stern voice halted the man and put a smile on Hayden’s lips. Turning, she closed the distance between them and stopped, all Chantilly lace and sweet Georgia peach. He could think of nothing else except that he wanted to kiss her. No vision of his father came to mind, no stench of him surrounded her at all. Thank You, God.

  “I thought I’d never see you again.” Her blue eyes searched his as if seeking an answer to a question deep within. “You didn’t say good-bye.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  He wanted to touch her, to brush aside the curl that had blown across her cheek, but he dared not. She had every right to be angry with him. To not want him after he rejected her love.

  “I don’t think I can ever say good-bye,” he said, gauging her reaction.

  Her lips parted. Her eyes moistened. “What are you saying?”

  He took her hand in his and placed a kiss upon it. Then dropping to one knee in the sand, he gazed up at her. Maybe he was making a complete idiot out of himself, but he didn’t care. For the chance to love Magnolia, he’d play the fool a thousand times.

  Her eyes widened. Her chest heaved. Her parents groaned. And Hayden said, “Will you marry me, Magnolia? Will you stay here and start a new life with me?”

  A tear slid down her cheek, touching the tip of her upturned lips. Was that a smile of joy or of mockery? She gaped at him as if he’d asked her to wed a wolf. Rising to his feet, he released her hand.

  “I know I have nothing to offer you. No house or fortune. And especially not a good name.” He gazed out to sea, his heart ready to implode. “You must think me rather presumptuous.”

  “Presumptuous? Always, sir. But at the moment I find you completely…completely wonderful and incredible and”—her nose wrinkled—“and wonderfully incredible.” She giggled. “I can’t seem to find the words.”

  “A first.” He grinned, his heart daring to hope.

  She frowned. Blasting that hope. “What about Patrick?”

  “Patrick? Who’s Patrick?” He feigned confusion then raised a brow. “And what of Samuel?”

  She laid a finger on her chin. “I don’t believe I know anyone by that name.”

  “But I fear your parents do.” Hayden nodded their way, noting the horror on their faces.

  “Then they can marry him.” She laughed.

  Happiness burst within him. Like none he’d ever known. “So, what is your answer, Princess?”

  She fell so hard into his arms, it nearly knocked him over. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Forever, yes!”

  CHAPTER 36

  Hayden had never been this nervous. Not during his biggest scam when five thousand dollars, along with his very life, was at risk. Not even when he’d crossed blades with the notorious swordsman Monsieur de Chambolier after Hayden had entertained flirtatious dalliances of his wife. He shifted his polished boots over the dirt, eyed his clean, pressed gray trousers, straightened the black silk embroidered waistcoat he’d borrowed from Blake, and tugged on the cuffs of his pristine shirt—the sleeves a bit too short for his long arms. But nothing eased the knot in his stomach. He glanced at Eliza, standing off to the side, smiling at him with that pleased, knowing smile of hers. Hayden tugged at his black necktie. Why had he tied the thing so tight?

  Women to his left giggled, joining the cacophony of birds and insects and the off-key thrum of Mr. Lewis’s fiddle. Hayden glanced across the courtyard, seeking his bride, but all he saw were the cheerful faces of the colonists lined up to witness the nuptials. Angeline, cat bundled in her arms, smiled his way, as did Sarah, bouncing Lydia against her chest, Thiago by her side. Mr. Dodd nodded his approval with a sly grin. The Jenkins, their daughter Henrietta between them, stood at the end of a crowd of other colonists, several farmers, ex-soldiers, the blacksmith, the baker—all grinning like clowns. More colonists crowded together on the other side, even some from his father’s group. Magnolia’s mother stood on Hayden’s left, flowers in hand and a pleasant smile on her face. Conspicuously absent were Magnolia’s father and Patrick.

  Which was fine by Hayden.

  He gazed at the strings of orchids festooning the thatched roof of the open-air meeting shelter, complements of New Hope’s women, who had seemed more than excited to be planning another wedding. Vines covered with feathery flowers of white and scarlet circled support poles and tables, while violet petals littered the ground. A breeze flickered two rows of lit candles that formed a pathway from the main street to where Hayden stood. He gave a sigh of impatience as the scent of sweet lemonade and molasses cakes swirled beneath his nose.

  Rays of a setting sun speared the jungle, dappling the area with glittering saffron.

  James cleared his throat, drawing Hayden’s gaze. The man stood in front of him, prayer book in hand, but his eyes were on something behind Hayden. He turned to see…

  Magnolia.

  Dressed in a shimmering white gown, trimmed in golden lace and embroidered with beads—complements of Angeline—and with her pearly hair swept up in a mass of curls, she looked more angelic than human. Her gloved hand rested in the crux of Blake’s elbow as he led her through the rows of flickering candles. Their eyes locked, and he couldn’t believe God had given him such a princess.

  Releasing Blake with a nod of thanks, she stopped beside Hayden. The flowers in her hands quivered. Her eyes sparkled with love. A breeze tugged loose a single strand of her hair, sweeping it across her neck. She reached up to put it in place, but he took her hand in his and smiled. And he vowed right there before God and man to take care of her, protect her, and love her all of her days.

  Thump-ump, thump-ump, thump-ump, the pulsating sound echoed in Magnolia’s ear. As it had all night. Lulling her to sleep with its soothing cadence, while at the same time keeping her awake with the knowledge that it came from the heart of the man she loved. The man that lay beside her, his strong arm around her waist, his chest beneath her head where she had laid it after they’d become one flesh, just like the scriptures said. He’d adored her with his body and then adored her with his words of love and promises of care and affection and joy for a lifetime, until He’d finally drifted off to sleep.

  The night had passed in a brushstroke of paradise as she lay ensconced in his warmth and strength, listening to his deep breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, inhaling the male scent of him, and praying for God to bless and strengthen and protect this man forever. Closing her eyes against the glow of dawn creeping in through the window, she wished it would retreat, go back to the rising sun, and push it down beneath the horizon for just a little while longer. Just a little while longer in Hayden’s arms, a little while longer absorbed in his love.

  A parrot screeched outside the window. Hayden stirred. He reached up to rub his nose. Propping her chin on his chest, she watched him. His mouth twitched. He groaned and released a heavy breath. Then his arm tightened around her and he snapped his eyes open, shifting them to her as if surprised to find her in his bed. A slow grin appeared on his lips. “I thought I only dreamed last night.”

  “Do you often have dreams of such a”—she raised an eyebrow at him—“sensual nature?”

  “Only about you, wife.” Easing a lock of hair from her forehead, he propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes drinking her in. “Last night was magical.”

  Magnolia smiled, felt a blush rising, and lay back on the pillow, gazing up at him. “Let’s never leave this cot. Stay here forever.”

  “Wouldn’t that give the townspeople something to talk about?”

  “Let them.” She laughed, running her fingers over the dark stubble on his chin.

  His gaze landed on the toad carving on the table. “So, now that I’ve spent the night with you, I suppose you must chop off my head so I can become a prince.”

  “It’s two nights you must spend with me, Mr. Gale. After tomorrow, I shall have to see.” She grinned. “But I do believe you are well on your way to beco
ming a prince, even with your head attached.”

  He rubbed his throat. “Good thing, Mrs. Gale. I’ve grown quite fond of my head.”

  “I rather like it myself.” Propping herself up, she trailed kisses up his neck. “Especially this neck”—she continued on to his chin—“and this scratchy jaw”—she planted one on his nose—“and this nose and these ears”—she nibbled on his ear.

  Groaning, he nudged her back onto the pillow and trapped her with his arms. “If you continue such provocative amusements, you will get your wish and never leave this bed.”

  “I don’t believe you for one minute. Are you swindling me again, Hayden Gale?”

  He grew serious. “Never again, for you have swindled the great swindler, Princess, and stolen his heart forever.”

  “I shall take good care of it, Hayden. You need fear nothing from me. I will cherish it forever and never betray your confidence, and I will—”

  His lips met hers, and the rest of her thoughts flew out the window.

  EPILOGUE

  What in the Sam Hill are you talking about, Doc?” Hayden shook his head. “You’re not making any sense.” Besides, the man had dragged Hayden away from Magnolia on only their second night together as man and wife. He glanced down the dark street, lit in intervals by flickering lanterns, toward their hut where he’d left her sleeping.

  “I know you’re anxious to return to your wife,” Blake said, drawing Hayden’s gaze back to see him smile. “I am as well. To mine, that is.” He chuckled at his faux pas. “But let’s hear James out. He’s been translating this book Graves gave him from the tunnels, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have woken us unless it was important.”

  “Yes.” James stared at the open book lying on the table in the meeting shelter. Light from a lantern perched beside it spilled onto the page littered with odd characters. The doc seemed unusually tense as he pushed from the table, took up a short pace, then stopped again. “I finally figured out what this section says.”He nodded to the book.“The Latin phrase written above the alcoves is a key to release the powerful beings.”