Abandoned Memories

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Abandoned Memories Page 6

by Marylu Tyndall


  Before they’d even managed to boil water for coffee, Blake strode into the meeting area making a beeline for his wife. Despite his limp from a war wound, he moved as though he were still a colonel in the Confederate Army marching before troops. That authoritative demeanor abandoned him, however, when he halted behind Eliza, wrapped his arms around her and leaned to whisper in her ear. Whatever he said brought a blush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips as he locked hands with hers and laid them upon her belly.

  Angeline turned away from the touching scene, joy and sorrow vying for dominance within her as she continued to slice bananas to be fried for breakfast.

  A clap brought her gaze to Thiago, who rubbed his hands together and sought out Sarah, shouting, “Good morning, all. Where is coffee?”

  Grabbing his book, James smiled at Angeline and started to walk away when a high-pitched whining filled the air. Soft at first, like the trill of a flock of birds, it grew louder with each passing second. Others heard it too. James spun around.

  “What is that?” Angeline asked.

  “Stay here,” he ordered as he and Blake shoved through the leaves on the north side of the clearing.

  Ignoring his command, she followed the men through thick brush that led to the edge of the sugar fields. In the east, trees scattered light from the rising sun into threads of gold over the terrain. Something moved in the distance. No, not something. The field moved. Darkness shifted and rippled over the ground as if someone had tipped over a giant bottle of ink.

  Thiago burst through the leaves and leapt into a tree, climbing to the top with an agility only a native Brazilian could muster.

  “What is it, Thiago? What do you see?” Blake shouted.

  “Ants. Army ants! Thousands of them!”

  C

  HAPTER 7

  I can’t find Stowy.” Angeline’s frenzied gaze shifted first east then west down Main Street, while the increasing high-pitched drone of army ants sent a cold rod through James’s spine.

  Grabbing her hand, he pulled her in the other direction. “The cat will be all right.”

  “I will not leave him.” She tugged from his grip and tore down the street. Growling, James sped after her. He had no idea how much time they had left before ants overwhelmed the town. Nor did he wish to find out until he and Angeline were safe in the river with everyone else. He glanced between two passing huts toward the sugar fields. Alarm charged his legs into a sprint at what he saw—a black horde swallowing up everything in its path like some biblical plague. And it was nearly upon them. Daring another glimpse, he rushed headlong into—thump!

  Blake grabbed James’s arms, his face sweaty and red. “What are you doing? Get to the river!”

  “It’s Angeline.” James tensed as his gaze caught her green skirts up ahead. “She’s looking for her cat.”

  “There’s no time for this tomfoolery!” Blake shouted over the eerie whine. “Get her to the river if you have to carry her there.”

  James nodded and sped away. Gladly. He wouldn’t mind at all hoisting the stubborn redhead over his shoulder. If only to teach her a lesson. She should listen to those in charge who knew what was best for her, not run around half-cocked looking for a mangy cat!

  There. He caught a flash of her russet hair disappearing in the trees on the other side of the meeting shelter. Heart pounding against his ribs, he darted after her. Since they didn’t know how wide the trail of ants stretched, Thiago told them the river would be their best chance to avoid being overwhelmed. Or eaten! Though army ants weren’t known to attack humans, they did eat insects, snakes, toads, and the occasional small mammal. A mammal like a cat. Even so, their powerful bite made you wish for death, particularly when there were hundreds swarming your body. Hundreds that, if they got inside your nose and mouth, could smother you. Just thinking about it made the hairs on James’s arms stand on end. What a horrible way to die.

  Punching through leaves and branches, he skirted the edge of the fields, horrified at the sight. As if the sea had breached its boundary, a tidal wave of black and brown swept over the terrain, moving rapidly toward him, drowning everything in its path.

  Everything.

  That meant the crops too—the sugar and coffee. A hollow cave formed in his stomach. He’d been so frightened for the safety of the colonists, it hadn’t occurred to him that they were losing everything they’d worked so hard to accomplish in the past two months. Squawking drew his gaze upward where a crowd of birds screeched and trilled, flapping and diving for insects driven out from hiding by the advancing army—an army that was advancing far too fast! And with scouts, apparently, as a few moved ahead of the pack, crawling over leaves and twigs in a haphazard path. One scrambled atop his boot. He shook it off, terror pricking his heart.

  A flash of green snapped his gaze to the left. At the edge of the field, Stowy pounced on the intruding ants as if they were but a few common insects to be toyed with while Angeline dashed toward him, skirts and hair flailing and voice crying, “Stowy! Stowy!”

  James took off in a sprint, calculating the distance between them and the ants, realizing as he did so, that by the time he arrived, they’d be smothered alive.

  Hayden tugged Magnolia toward the river.

  “Must we go in the water?” Clutching her skirts, she wrinkled her nose.

  “Yes.”

  Resisting her husband’s pull, she halted at the bank and gazed over the colonists. Eliza and Sarah beckoned her onward, their skirts billowing atop the rushing river. Thiago handed Lydia back to Sarah then treaded knee deep before the frightened group of people. “Move back. More. Move back.” He gestured with palms up. Soon everyone waded farther into the current until the water reached their waists. Even Magnolia’s parents! Her mother clung to her father, her face as white as the eddies that swirled and lapped at their clothes.

  “Magnolia, you must come in!” It was the first words her father had spoken to her since she married Hayden. She returned a tentative smile.

  She hated rivers. “There’s dirt and bugs and snakes.”

  Hayden gestured behind her. “Or ants. Whichever you prefer, Princess.” She gave him a sassy grin and glanced over her shoulder. A pulsating black sheet flowed toward her. The closer it came, the more she could make out the individual ants with their spindly legs and spiked antennae.

  She leapt into Hayden’s arms.

  Chuckling, he carried her into the water and set her down. Despite the heat of the day, a chill etched up her back as the current knotted her skirts between her legs. Yet no sooner had her slippers sunk into the silt than the ravenous horde struck the water’s edge. For a moment she thought the ants would form ships with their hideous bodies and sail out to get them, but, although a few did get caught in the tide, the rest split down the middle like the parting of the red—or in this case, black—sea and scurried down the bank of the river and off into the jungle.

  Still they came. Endless waves of ants as big as a man’s thumb, scurrying, scrambling, eating everything that stood in their way. Magnolia’s legs grew numb. No doubt sensing her exhaustion, Hayden moved behind her and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  A somber mood descended on the colonists as they fought to keep their balance in the strong current while watching the endless swarm strike the shore. Other than the whine of the ants and the rush of water, the jungle was quiet—terror silencing its creatures. Sweat formed on Magnolia’s brow.

  A few of the women began to sob. One man cursed.

  Magnolia glanced over at Blake and Eliza. The colonel stared straight ahead, his eyes as cold and hard as a river pebble. She imagined he’d worn much the same look after losing a battle in the war. For they all knew the truth. They’d lost this particular battle. The ants had devoured their crops and left them with nothing.

  Looking for the rest of her friends, Magnolia scanned the group of colonists. Panic soon overcame sorrow. “Where are Angeline and James?”

  Angeline leane
d over to scoop up Stowy, ready to scold him for his disobedience when from the corner of her eye, she saw the ground advancing toward her. No, not the ground—a wall of ants. And they were only a foot away! No time to ponder how they got there so quickly, no time to chastise herself for her foolishness, she clutched Stowy to her chest, intending to run, but her legs felt like tree stumps—heavy and rooted in place. Her heart crumbled into dust as ants swarmed her, first swallowing up her slippers then swelling up her stockings. Pain like a hundred matches torched her skin.

  Arms of steel clamped her waist and hoisted her up, smashing her against a thick chest. Stowy let out an angry wail, but Angeline managed to keep a tight grip on the cat as they bounced up and down in the arms of her rescuer. Her legs stung, her arms stung. Ants crawled over her and onto James’s arms and neck. His hot breath gusted her cheek. His jaw bunched. His eyes focused. His pace slowed. He let out a growl that seemed to boost his strength to run faster.

  Angeline closed her eyes. How could she have been so stupid? She’d put them both in danger, for a cat. But not just any cat—Stowy.

  James let out another bestial groan.

  “Put me down. I can run,” she shouted then shrieked as an ant crawled on her face. She slapped it away. The land sloped upward. James ascended, huffing and panting like a steam engine. His face grew red. Sweat dripped from his jaw. He ground his teeth and continued. Finally at the crest of the hill, he set her down and leaned forward on his knees, gulping in air as if he’d surfaced from a deep lake.

  Setting Stowy down, Angeline slapped ants off her skirts and blouse, trying ever so hard not to shriek like a typical goose-livered female. But when she felt something crawling on her thigh…Screaming, she turned her back to James, lifted her skirts and punched the vermin away. Two vermin, in fact. The hugest ants she’d ever seen! When she faced James, he smiled at her, his hands still on his knees, his breath still bursting from his lungs.

  And an ant on his face. She dashed toward him and struck his cheek.

  He shot back, eyes blinking. “Not exactly the response I expected after saving your life.”

  “There was an ant…”

  “Thanks.” He rubbed his jaw. “I think.” Then, as if concerned more of the pesky critters were on him, he raked furious hands through his hair, shaking it over the ground. Nothing fell loose, but when he righted himself, he looked like a soft-quilled porcupine.

  She would laugh if she weren’t so frightened. “Are we safe here?” She peered down the hill.

  “For now. They seem more interested in our fields and town.”

  “So many of them.” Angeline gathered Stowy to her chest and slid beside James. Through the tangle of trees and vines, a dark wave flooded the land below. “Where are they all coming from?”

  “Where are they going?” James added. “And more importantly, why, of all places, did they choose to devour our fields?” Hopelessness drained the life from his normally cheerful voice as the continual drone of destruction rang through the jungle. A gust of wind stirred leaves overhead, dappling him in sunlight and setting the perspiration on his forehead aglow.

  Sweet saints, he’d risked his life for her!

  “Thank you for saving me.” Angeline swallowed as visions of her and Stowy smothered in ants filled her mind and resurrected pain from a dozen bites still burning her skin. Heart racing, she glanced down, expecting to see her skirts covered with the evil vermin. “I still feel them on me.” She thrust Stowy at James and frantically brushed her arms and skirts, slapping and striking and punching. Panic sent her heart spinning along with her body as she ran hands through each strand of hair.

  James gripped her arm, stopping her. “There’s nothing on you, Angeline.” He leaned over until their eyes locked—his calm and as strong as their bronze color, hers flitting between his until their peace flowed onto her. She nodded and took a deep breath.

  “Did they bite you?” James asked.

  “My legs. They still sting.”

  “I should examine them.”

  “No need.” She looked away. If this man’s touch on her arm made odd things swirl in her belly, what would his fingers do on her bare legs? Best not to find out.

  Stowy meowed and reached for Angeline. James held him up. “And you, you pesky varmint. We were nearly eaten alive because of you.”

  Angeline smiled at his playful tone. Most men would be furious at Stowy and even more furious at Angeline for going after him. But James was no ordinary man.

  No ordinary man would have risked his own life to save hers either. Twice now. No, three times. Once aboard the ship and twice in Brazil. Which made her indebted to him. And she hated being indebted to anyone. Neither did she like being rescued. Being rescued was for weak women looking for a hero. And Angeline knew there was no such thing as heroes. Or happy endings. Never before had anyone swooped in to rescue her when she’d been in danger. Men had swooped in, that much was true, but much like these ants, they had stung and stung and then left her covered with bites and scars.

  No, she didn’t need a man to help her. She didn’t need or want anyone.

  “Why are you always rescuing me?” Her curt tone snapped James around to face her. Shock transformed into confusion and finally into anger.

  “Because you are always doing foolish things.”

  Angeline wanted to tell him to leave her alone the next time he thought her foolish, but the whine of the ants suddenly grew louder and a line of the vile pests appeared over the ridge of the hill. Grabbing her hand, James plunged deeper into the jungle. With one arm tucked to shield Stowy, he shoved aside leaves and branches with his shoulder, forming a safe cocoon for Angeline following in his wake.

  She tried to focus on her legs moving and her lungs breathing and not the feel of James’s hand forming a fortress around hers, guiding her to safety. She wanted to let go of him and find her own way. She wanted to never trust anyone again. But, for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to release her grip.

  Finally, he halted, shoved her behind him, and turned to stare down the path.

  Ants continued to advance, their scouts weaving down the trail ahead of the pack. Not just down the trail, but now coming at them from every side. Where had they come from? There was nowhere else to run. Angeline squeezed her eyes shut.

  They were going to be eaten alive.

  A grunt, followed by the sound of tree bark scraping and James’s voice, drifted from above. “Grab ahold!” She pried her eyes open to see his hand reaching down from a low-hanging branch. A sheet of ants marched toward her, inches from her feet. Slapping her hand into his, she heard him groan, felt her feet leave the ground, her legs failing. Ants swarmed the dirt beneath her and stormed up the trunk. Sweat slicked her hand. It started to slip from James’s grasp.

  C

  HAPTER 8

  Dangling in midair over a horde of army ants, Angeline gazed up at James. His tight grip on her wrist slid. Just a fraction. But it slid. Sweat dripped off his chin. His determined gaze pierced hers like a rod of iron forming an impenetrable bond between them. “I won’t let go. Do you hear me? I won’t let you go.”

  With a torturous groan, he hoisted her up, grabbed her waist, and set her on the branch beside him. The ants continued their insatiable crunch and snap over the jungle floor below, but she dared not look. “Won’t they climb up the tree?” she breathed out, trying to settle her heart. Stowy leapt into her lap and meowed in complaint.

  “I don’t think so. Thiago said this species stays on the ground or beneath it.”

  Yet even as he said it, the little pests continued to skitter up the trunk.

  “Come.” He stood, pulled himself up to a thicker branch above, and reached down for her and Stowy. He did the same again and again until they were high above the ground.

  “Where did you learn to climb so well? You’re nearly as good as Thiago.” Angeline took his hand one last time as he hoisted her onto the final branch.

  “Summers in Tennessee.�


  He found a spot where several branches grew together, forming a flat area as big as a cot. Plopping down, he helped Angeline to sit beside him, his breath bursting in his chest. Hers was too, especially thinking the ants had followed. But when she dared a glance down, none were in sight, at least not on the tree. The ground, however, rolled and swayed like storm clouds at night. Leaning her head back on the trunk, she lowered her shoulders and ran fingers through Stowy’s fur. The cat seemed to understand their tenuous predicament and curled up in her lap.

  “You’re trembling.” James swung an arm around her and drew her close.

  “Who wouldn’t be?” She wiggled from beneath his touch. “With a horde of army ants beneath our feet.” She hated that she’d put a frown on his face, but she rarely allowed anyone to touch her—especially a man.

  Taking the hint, he moved away. “If I act inappropriately, you still have your pistol.” He gestured toward the weapon stuffed in her belt as a rakish grin appeared on his lips.

  She laughed and plucked out the pistol, laying it beside her. “I’d forgotten all about it.” Though as uncomfortable as it was pressed against her belly, she didn’t know how. She raised a coy brow. “Don’t think I won’t use it, Doctor.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt, Miss.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “You can count on me to be a gentleman.”

  Yes, she did believe she could. But that only made things harder. She looked away. “I suppose I should thank you, yet again.”

  “Not if you don’t mean it.”

  A breeze swirled through the leaves of the tree, dousing her with the scent that was uniquely James—all musk and man. “Of course I mean it…. I do thank you. It’s just that…” She sighed. “Never mind.” Bundling Stowy close to her chest, she suddenly wished she weren’t alone with James. He had a way about him that made her want to share things she wouldn’t share with anyone. She supposed it was the preacher in him. His duty to care for people and listen to their problems.

 

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