by Carie, Jamie
They hauled him upright and half carried, half pushed him to the awaiting carriage. He was thrown inside, the door slamming shut. “Meade!” he yelled, hoping someone would connect the scene with the duke and tell Meade what happened when he returned.
Alexandria! he silently screamed, the crushing weight of defeat making his heart dissolve into frantic hopelessness. God, where are You in all of this?
How would he stop her from marrying now?
Chapter Five
The Achilles fought against the winds, beating to windward as it sailed around the coast of Iceland edging closer and closer to its jagged shore, the sails stiff and flat against the constant needle-sharp gale.
Alex hugged her red cloak around her, pulling the hood low over her eyes and peering from under it at the thrashing of the waves. Her heart pounded as she gazed at the edges of the land coming in and out of the foggy haze, revealing sloping black mountains with white-tipped rock faces.
They were almost there. After twenty days of close quarters and dodging moments of intimacy with her fiancé, Alex felt both a sigh of relief and a stab of homesickness. This shore they were nearing, this mist and its lonely feel, made her think of Holy Island and all she left behind. It seemed like so long ago that she’d begun this journey. Was she even the same person?
No. She was certain she was not.
She clasped her gloved hands together and leaned over them, seeing the vapor of her breath add to the spray of the sea. I need Your light to guide my way. I need Your light to guide my way. She repeated the simple phrase over and over, knowing that God’s love was holding her up, that this mission was hopeless without Him, and that with Him and His light guiding the way, anything was possible. Even finding her parents alive.
A hand on her shoulder made her turn around.
“Is everything all right?”
She nodded at John, wishing for just a few more minutes alone with her thoughts and prayers. He was never far away, but of course they were in the close quarters of a ship and as her fiancé, it was to be expected. Why did it feel so . . . smothering?
“I’m fine.” She turned toward the sea. “Look. We are so close.”
John came up close behind her, blocking the shrill wind and creating a space of warmth. He leaned his head into the side of hers and whispered into her ear, “Are you excited? We may find your parents here.”
The thought of it never failed to send a jolt of hope blazing through her. “Yes. I pray it is so.” Her voice caught on the wind and winged away. She wasn’t sure he even heard her, but it didn’t seem to matter as he drew a big breath and wrapped his hands around her waist, clasping them against her stomach.
She closed her eyes, floating in the moment and stopping all her plotting and planning, enjoying the presence of his chest against her back and the wind song blowing her hair against the hood of her red cape, feeling warm and ensconced in the whirlwind of an adventure.
It felt right. She was right not to give up.
She imagined sailing around the world like this, with John at her back to protect her and keep her buoyed against life’s gale winds and her love holding him up. They could do that—together—couldn’t they? She couldn’t imagine anything better.
The duke’s face, her guardian duke, rose up from behind her closed eyes. As jolting as the sharp wind, she saw his piercing green eyes. Like the screeching cry of an eagle, she saw him snap his head around and stare into her eyes, impaled, caught in a spell she’d never encountered before. Fear and then determination filled her as she stood up to it, met it with the sky blue of her gaze turned to blue topaz.
Emeralds and topaz.
Alexandria looked at John and saw gold—such a golden man. He would hold her and carry her and help her. He would be the setting for her light blue stone, allowing it to glitter and shine. He would support her against the blows of life while her guardian would glitter brighter than her. If Gabriel and she came together, they would have to make God their setting. Her breath caught with the thought.
“Look!” He leaned over her left shoulder and pointed toward the gray-cast shadows in the waves. “Do you see it?”
Alex strained toward where his finger pointed and then inhaled. A whale. She’d never seen a whale before. She watched transfixed as it crested like the moon over the horizon in an elegant arc of sooty skin, shiny and oily, rubbery and firm at the same time. Its back arched and then its tail came up and over the edges of the deep, a grand show that made her press her gloved hands against her face. Oh! The beauty and grace. She blinked hard as the fluke slapped against the surface of the water, creating a big splash. Everyone around them oohed and aahed, two little girls and a boy squealing with excitement as the whale dove back under the water.
Clapping and cheering ensued among the passengers around them. Alex turned a happy face toward John. “That was amazing. Have you ever seen anything like it?”
He shook his head, his eyes lighting on hers. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” His voice was low and deep. He looked into her eyes, his lips so close. The depth of his sentiment touched her in a melting-limb, slow-encompassing way, making her blink and want to turn away.
Gold could be exciting.
She smiled up at him in the midst of the salt spray . . . thinking how cold emeralds were and how distantly enchanting.
ALEX DISEMBARKED IN REYKJAVIK AS if in a dream. Stunning. That was all she could think to describe this strange and beautiful land. Where Ireland had been so green with shades of gray and blue and browns, Iceland was even more otherworldly in its stark contrasts of vibrant colors. The sea had turned an icy blue closer to shore, the land green with shades of yellow and rich orange, the mountains surrounding the little village of Reykjavik darkly silver with white streaks of snowy crevasses, all surrounded by a warm mist that swelled with the taint of metals and fish and salt and ice. The land of volcanoes, they’d said in rumors and whispers aboard the ship.
The land of fire and ice.
A feeling of purpose and adventure filled her veins in a thick, throbbing pulse as Alex lifted her single bag and carried it across the dock to the street that led into the village. She stopped and let her gaze sweep over the little town. It was small compared to Dublin and felt more like home on Holy Island. The street led to a row of hodgepodge buildings on either side made from stone and turf. As they walked into town she saw that there were shops and warehouses and a rectangular white cathedral, its tall tower seeming to look over the town and lending grace to the homey feel.
“Tiny little place,” John murmured as he pulled his hat lower to shield his face from the constant, bracing wind.
“Let’s go there first.” Alex pointed to what appeared to be a public house.
They walked through the doors and were greeted by the sounds of someone crying, wailing really. John and Alex exchanged looks and walked toward the sound at the back of the large room.
A woman sat in a rocking chair in front of a stone fireplace, her face buried in her hands. No one else was about so Alex touched her shoulder. “Please, can we help you, miss?”
The woman looked up, startled, and then quickly wiped her tears on her apron. She stood and faced them. “I’m sorry. My son is missing since yesterday and half the town is out searching for him. I fear he has drowned in one of the hot springs.” She appeared about to burst into another round of tears but rallied. “Have you come from the ship that just docked? Are you visitors? We are such a small village; we know everyone in town.”
“Yes, this is my . . . friend.” There was no use saying they were married if they were to have the ceremony here in Iceland. “John Lemon and I am Alexandria. Is this an inn? We have need of a place to stay.”
“Yes indeed. We’ve rooms here. I’m Ana Magnusson. My husband is out searching for Tomas.”
Alex motioned toward the chai
r. “Please, tell us what happened. Perhaps we can help with the search.”
The woman hesitated and then nodded, motioning for them both to sit down. “Tomas is ten years old and always disappearing and giving me a fright, I can tell you, but this time he has been gone all night!” Her lower lip started to quiver. “I’m so afraid he is lying hurt somewhere.”
“What does he look like?” Alex knew the feeling and tried to keep her talking.
“He has blond hair and blue eyes. He is tall for his age and has the most angelic smile. Always getting into mischief though.”
“What sort of mischief? You’ve searched all his favorite hiding places?”
“Oh yes. He is usually found at the beach or near the hot springs. He’s a good swimmer but the current could have spirited him away. I’m afraid we’ll never find him.”
John leaned forward. “We’ve just come from a large ship with a lookout. They would have had a good chance of spotting him if he was lost at sea.”
“That’s true, isn’t it?” Ana’s eyes lit up. “I should have Hans alert the captain before they depart to be on the lookout.”
“What about favorite games he likes to play? What does he like to do?” Alex clasped her hands in concentration, thinking of places she had enjoyed escaping to as a child.
“He pretends he’s a soldier sometimes, making pistols and swords out of sticks.” She shook her head as if unable to think of anything else. “He’s such a good boy. Oh, I don’t know what I shall do if we don’t find him.” The poor woman broke down again into tears.
“May I see his room?” Alex asked, thinking taking some action would at least help her get through the next few minutes. “There might be a clue there.”
“Well, I don’t know.” The woman hesitated. “We’ve looked all over his room, of course.”
“It may sound a bit strange, but I have something of a knack when it comes to solving mysteries. A gift from my parents, I suppose. They are famous fortune hunters and travel all over the world solving important mysteries.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Not the Featherstones? I thought you looked a bit familiar.”
“You know my parents? Were they here?”
“They were here months ago. They stayed with us for a time. They were searching for something important, though they wouldn’t say what it was. The whole town speculated on it, but we never learned what it was. And then, one day, they just disappeared.”
Alex’s heart pounded harder with each word. She looked over at John. “As desperate as I am to find my parents and hear everything about their stay here, let us try and help you find Tomas. May I see his room?”
“Yes, of course.” Ana led them up a narrow staircase to the sloped ceiling of a small attic room. She lit a lantern and turned the wick until bright light flickered around the room.
Alex went through the drawers, the small box of toys, the clothes hanging on pegs, the pockets of each little pair of pants, and searched under the bed. Nothing unusual. She turned back the blanket and searched under the covers and then, with John’s help, lifted the feather ticking and looked under the mattress. She’d always hidden her secret scribbling in a book under her mattress.
Finding nothing, she started to remake the bed. When she lifted the pillow she noticed a fluttering underneath and turned it over. “That’s strange.”
“What is it?”
“It looks as if Tomas has cut a nice rectangle from the back of this pillow casing. Has this been there long?”
“No. I just washed the bedding last week and a hole wasn’t there then. What do suppose he’s doing with a scrap of cloth like that?”
Alex stared at the shape of it. “It could be a tail for a kite or . . .”—she imagined the sticks he played with—“a flag or something at the end of a stick he’s using for his make-believe games.”
A loud noise coming from the downstairs made them all turn. “That would be my husband. Maybe they’ve found Tomas!”
They hurried back downstairs where a tall, blond man stood, his head almost touching the ceiling. “We’ve guests?” he asked his wife in a voice gruff with worry.
Ana made the introductions.
“You haven’t found him,” she said in defeat.
“Not yet, but we will.”
“Lady Featherstone found something in his room. He cut off the back of the pillow casing, and she thinks he may have made a flag or kite with it.”
“Another Featherstone, eh? Well, it won’t hurt our cause to have you both helping. I’ve just come in for some rope before heading back out. It will be dark soon and almost impossible to search at night.”
“We’re glad to help.”
“Rope! What do you need that for, Hans?” Ana paled whiter.
“Just in case we need it,” he said in a soothing voice. “Could you fill the canteens while I fetch it?”
Ana nodded and filled two canteens from the bucket of water that sat on a long table against one wall. She found a third one and filled it for John and Alex. “I’m coming with you.” She reached for a heavy cloak.
The wind had become a gale force as the four of them hurried down the street. Neighbors leaned out of their doors, some joining them and some inquiring the latest news with promises of prayers. Alex studied the buildings, looking for crevices and hiding places where a young boy might have burrowed in and gotten stuck. They called his name, but only the wailing wind answered them.
Alex shivered inside her cloak, thinking she must have some warm furs made up into a better coat for the winter. A road led out of town splitting north and southeast. “Would he have followed the road?” Alex looked in both directions.
“I don’t know,” Ana moaned.
“We’ve already searched both routes.” Hans shook his head. “I thought perhaps he had gone fishing.” There was a catch in his voice as he said it.
John leaned toward Alex. “It’s probably hopeless, poor fellow.”
“It’s not hopeless. We have to pray.” Alex turned to the Magnussons. “Might we pray together? God knows where Tomas is.”
“I have prayed nearly every minute since I discovered him missing, my lady, but I welcome your prayers.” Ana took a step closer and grasped Alex’s hand. They all closed their eyes.
“Dear heavenly Father,” Alex began in a steady voice, “we beseech You on behalf of little Tomas and ask for Your help. Please, God, lead and direct our steps. Open our minds to new possibilities and clues, light our way. Help us find little Tomas and please keep him safe and well until we get to him. Amen.”
John shuffled his feet, appearing uncomfortable.
“John, what’s wrong?” Alex whispered as they walked a little ways down the road and peered into the brush surrounding them.
“Nothing. I just don’t like this. We’re losing time and anyway, I don’t believe in miracles.”
“You don’t? Well, I do,” Alex stated with heat. She’d been so enamored by his charm and good looks that she hadn’t really found out much about his beliefs. How could she marry someone who didn’t share her faith? And how could he care that they were losing some time when something so important was at stake?
“Tomas,” she called, fanning out and away from the group. “Tomas!” The light of the moon shone bright, helping them search the area around the road that led to a small hot spring. Steam hummed above the surface of the pool as it came into view. It looked inviting to her; might it not have been enticing to Tomas?
“Ana, Hans,” Alex called, “is the water too hot? Would he have tried to bathe in it?”
“He might have.” Hans walked over. “It’s bearable though on the warm side. But we’ve already looked here. His body . . . it would float if he had drowned here.”
Alex sighed, placing her hand on Han’s arm. “You’ve searched e
very building in town? Every place surrounding the town? Can you think of any place you may have missed?”
He shook his head, scratching the back of it. “No . . . we’ve had the townsfolk looking with us all day. They searched all their houses, the shops . . .” He stopped. “Wait a minute. The church. The roof was being repaired these last few days and they kept it locked up, but Tomas talked of getting up in that belfry one day. Since it’s locked, I don’t think anyone thought to check there.”
Hope flared through Alex. “Come on.” They called Ana and John to follow them and rushed back toward town. Within minutes they rounded a corner and looked up at the church where the tall, square tower of the belfry sat at the top. A perfect place for a child to sneak into and play all sorts of make-believe games.
They ran closer and then around to the other side. “Tomas!” she yelled up at the leaded glass windows. She rounded to the back and stopped. There, plastered against the white stone and hard to see, was a scrap of fabric flapping against the wall. The window looked to have been broken too.
“It’s him! It has to be!” she shouted.
John was just behind her. “How are we going to get up there?”
The parents hurried around the corner and gazed up. “It’s the pillow casing!” Ana shouted. They all ran for the front door, which was locked tight, just as they thought.
“If he’s up there, he had to have gotten in somehow. Look for broken windows,” Hans shouted. They hurried around the church searching for a way inside. Sure enough, at the back of the building there was a loose board on the bottom of the back door. Hans kicked open the rest of it and they all pushed their way inside.
“Tomas!” They ran through the church to a set of stairs, up the stairs, through a long balcony, and to a little room that held a ladder against one wall leading to the belfry. First Hans, then Ana, her foot slipping on one of the rungs in her hurry, flew up the steps. Alex held her skirt up, waiting for her turn.