Abandoned Memories

by Marylu Tyndall

  James snapped his eyes open with a start.

  Angeline was staring at him. Sitting as far away from him as possible on the branch, she petted Stowy in her lap. Morning sun cut through branches and leaves and set her damp hair aglitter like liquid fire. A drop from above splattered on her shoulder, soaking into the fabric of her blouse. For a moment they simply stared into each other’s eyes as if they were both lost in dreams they didn’t want to end.

  Finally she lowered her gaze. “You saved my life. Again.”

  A bird chirped above them and Stowy leapt from Angeline’s arms in hot pursuit. She reached after the cat and lost her balance. James lunged to grab her waist and settle her. Their gazes met again, just inches apart this time. An emotion he couldn’t name brewed within her violet eyes, but whatever it was, it made him never want to look away. His heart ached all over again from the loss of her.

  She shoved his hands away as if he had leprosy.

  “If you want me to apologize for coming to your rescue, I fear I cannot.” James glanced down to see what his ears already told him. The waters had receded. Well, most of them. A shallow stream trickled over the land, shoving tangled nests of branches, twigs, and leaves through the mud, some bunching in knots to form beaver dams. The tap, tap of water from the canopy provided a cheerful accompaniment to the warble of birds. A pleasant tune so different from the mighty roar of the storm the night before.

  But how could James possibly keep his focus on muddy water, birds, or storms when Angeline’s lips were so close to his face he could feel her breath on his cheek?

  “No, I…” she began and James leaned back against the trunk, lest he do what every impulse within him drove him to do—kiss her.

  “I…” She lowered her chin. “How did you know where I would be?”

  James shrugged, trying not to notice the way her damp blouse clung to her curves. “I didn’t. When I saw you weren’t with the others, I jumped in the river and prayed I would find you.”

  “You did?” Tiny brows collided above her freckled nose as her eyes searched his.

  “Of course. I knew you must be out there somewhere. Either in the water or clinging to a tree.”

  “But the chances…” Moisture covered her eyes and she looked away.

  “Are good with God.” He smiled. When she didn’t respond, he swung his leg over the branch and gripped the bark on either side. Angeline sat inches from him, one hand pressed on the branch beneath her, one nervously fiddling with her tangled hair. Yet she seemed so distant and cold she might as well have been miles away.

  A flock of orioles, plumed in brilliant yellow and black, landed in branches above them and began their morning serenade as if all was right with the world. Totally oblivious, it would seem, to Stowy who flattened himself, his ears back, his tail jerking as he slunk toward them. Yet were they oblivious? Were they too busy praising God to notice the danger lurking all around? Or did they simply trust Him to care for them? As God had cared for James and Angeline through the storm.

  “You shouldn’t have come after me, James. You could have died.” Angeline’s tone turned petulant as if he had dipped her hair in ink or put a frog in her stew.

  Which completely baffled him. He knew he should be angry at her for her ungrateful attitude, but he couldn’t find it within him. “I’m sorry for saving your life, your dragonship.”

  A smile peeked from her lips. “You said you weren’t going to apologize.”

  “Force of habit, I suppose.” His chuckle fell limp when he noticed her torn sleeves and the cuts and bruises marring her arms. “You’re hurt.” He reached for her, but she grabbed her arm and drew it close, wincing.

  “I guess I hit a few trees.”

  James studied her, not able to imagine the horror she must have endured being helplessly carried away by the current. For him, he’d been more concerned about finding her. But she must have believed she would die. His gaze landed on the scar on her arm.

  “But this”—he gestured toward it—“is old. What is it from?”

  Her body stiffened. She attempted to cover it with shreds of her sleeve.

  “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  She raised a brow. “Another apology, Doctor? It does, indeed, appear to be a habit with you.”

  “Only when I’m with you, for I seem to constantly cross some invisible boundary that awakes the sleeping dragon.”

  She looked away but not before he saw her smile.

  “Nevertheless, when we get back, have Eliza look at your wounds.” Since it was obvious she wouldn’t allow James to touch her.

  She nodded, and James stretched the aches from his back and ran hands down his still-damp trousers, longing for her to understand the depth of his feelings, but she wouldn’t look at him. Instead she peered through the lattice of shifting leaves and drew in a deep breath of air scented with sodden earth and salt.

  “We are near the sea,” she finally said before looking down and wobbling slightly, her face blanching.

  “The river pushed us toward it. Here, grab this branch and don’t look down.” James guided her hand to a bough angling beside her shoulder then reached over to pull a scrap from her hair.

  She snapped her eyes to his.

  “Just a twig.” He held it up before her horrified gaze. “I assure you, I wasn’t taking liberties.” Though he wouldn’t mind coiling his finger around the lustrous curl he’d just briefly grazed.

  Moments passed in silence. Surely she wasn’t angry at him for saving her life! He’d never met such a puzzling woman. He longed for the camaraderie, the friendship they had formed the last time they’d been in a tree together, but that had drifted out to sea with the raging river.

  “I cannot believe what happened,” she finally said. “The river came up so quickly.”

  A breeze gusted through the leaves and chilled his wet shirt. He adjusted his position on the branch. “Too quickly. It doesn’t make sense. It was as if someone broke a dam upstream.” Yet he had his suspicions—suspicions that had nothing to do with natural causes.

  “You don’t suppose there’s anything left of our town?” She bit her lip, her voice vacant of hope. “And the others. They are safe?”

  “Yes. They all made it up the hill in time.” He wanted to tell her all would be well. He wanted to kiss the worry from the freckles tightening on her pert nose, but he truly wasn’t sure anymore. Not after all the disasters they’d suffered. “I don’t know about our huts. Or our crops.”

  She faced him again, staring at him with sad eyes. Wind eased a curl across her cheek, and reaching up, he brushed it behind her ear. She took in a quick breath.

  So he did have some effect on her.

  Fear sped across her eyes before she attempted to scoot farther away from him. “We should go find out.”

  “We should wait until the water is gone. If the town is destroyed, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

  When another branch blocked her progress, she let out a huff of displeasure. What in the surefire blazes had James done to deserve such aversion? Whatever the reason, it wouldn’t dull the pain lancing through his heart at the moment. She’d made it plain she didn’t want a courtship. What he hadn’t realized was that she also found him repulsive.

  Moments passed in silence. Stowy sent another flock of birds scattering before he began pouncing on leaves instead. Finally Angeline attempted a smile. “How odd that we are stuck in a tree again. I wonder if this will become a regular occurrence?”

  “I hope so. Apparently it’s the only time you’ll talk to me.”

  “I talk to you.”

  “Not since you told me our relationship was over.”

  “Not over. Just different.” She stared down at the muddy ground. “I’ve been busy. And it’s been raining.”

  He wished those were the only reasons. But he knew better. Regardless, he would cherish the time they had now. Even if she wished she were anywhere else but with him.

  Gat
hering her mass of damp curls, she tugged them over her other shoulder. They tumbled to her lap where she attempted to untangle them with her fingers.

  Red streaks drew his gaze to blood on her neck. “What are these?” He brushed more of her hair aside and examined what looked like scratches. Deep ones.

  She fingered them absently. “Yes, I’d forgotten. Stowy. He hates the water.”

  As if on cue, the cat swatted at her from the branch above causing Angeline to giggle. A wonderful, delightful sound that helped loosen the tightness in James’s gut at both her cold demeanor and the sight of fresh blood.

  He swallowed, plucked a nearby leaf and pressed it on the wounds. “You may need stitches.”

  James’s voice sounded hollow and trembling, as though it came from within a cave—a very cold cave. Though she’d been trying not to look at him, she swerved her gaze to his, noting that his eyes were on anything but her neck and his face bore resemblance to white parchment.

  Moving his fingers aside, she held the leaf in place, remembering all the times he had been paralyzed in the presence of blood. At first she’d thought it ludicrous and weak. Especially for a doctor, but now that she knew him—had witnessed his strength and bravery—she knew this was no simple phobia. “It must have been horrible for you on the battlefield,” she mumbled the thoughts filling her mind.

  “You would never know it now, but I used to be quite a good surgeon,” James said with a sordid chuckle, still not looking at her neck. “They would send the worst cases my way…the ones with limbs blown off and entrails bubbling from bellies.”

  The visual sent a sour taste into her mouth.

  “Forgive me, Angeline.” He laid a hand on her arm, but she moved aside. The man had no idea how his every touch played havoc with her insides. And her emotions. When she awoke, cocooned in his arms, she’d felt safe and warm and loved. And she found herself wishing time would stand still and she’d never have to leave his embrace. But that could never be. So, she’d moved as far away from him as she could and watched him sleep—a restless, fitful slumber that tore at her heart to discover what caused him such angst and to put an end to it with her love.

  “You were quite accustomed to seeing blood, I imagine,” she said.

  A drop of rainwater landed on his forehead from above and he shoved it into his hair—damp, chaotic hair threaded in strings of gold and tawny brown that curled when they reached his collar.

  “Is it possible for one person to see too much blood in a lifetime?” His jaw flexed as he gazed into the jungle. “Perhaps there is some limit set by God that man cannot go beyond. Similar to the threshold of pain that thrusts men into the bliss of unconsciousness. I reached my limit is all.” His bronze eyes searched hers, brimming with sorrow and shame, yet sturdy as the metal whose color they favored.

  “I cannot imagine what you went through.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to. I wouldn’t want anyone to. Yet, it was nothing compared to what our soldiers saw on the battlefield.”

  “Yet you saved many lives.”

  “A few.”

  “How could there be shame in that? Or what happened to you afterward? In fact, you should be proud of your service.” Unlike her. While he was saving lives, Angeline was ruining them. Her own included.

  Stowy leapt onto James’s leg, pouncing on a shifting spot of sunlight. They both chuckled, lightening the dour mood. Perhaps lightening it a little too much, for when the laughter died, their eyes met again, and his hand swallowed hers. This time, she allowed it. The rough feel of his skin, the warmth, the way his fingers folded over hers, protecting, caressing. Eternity was made of moments like these, moments when time halted, dangling on the line strung between their gazes. Moments when there were only two and the strength of their love seemed to power the universe. She soaked it in, storing the memory deep in her heart.

  For it could never happen again.

  She couldn’t have this man. Or Dodd would ruin his chance at happiness, his chance at marriage and children with a true lady. Angeline must be strong. Breaking the trance, she turned and gazed below. “The waters are low enough now. Perhaps we should go. It isn’t proper for us to be here alone.”

  “People will understand. Besides, you’re safe with me.” With a touch to her chin, he brought her to face him again. “You know my feelings for you.”

  She did. And it threatened to undo her carefully erected shield. But Dodd’s ultimatum rose like a sword beside that shield—one she must use to keep James at bay. For his sake.

  Sunlight angled over his jaw, over his dark stubble so at odds with his light hair.

  She tugged her hand from his. “You must accept the way things are, James. I’m sorry.”

  “And how exactly are things?”

  That I’d give anything to be loved by you. “We can be no more than friends.” Moisture blurred her vision.

  “I don’t understand. You feel something for me. I see it in your eyes.”

  “You are mistaken.” She waved a hand through the air. “I have a terrible fault, you see, of making everyone feel cared for. I’ve been that way since I was a little girl.” She laughed to cover up the sob caught in her throat and turned from him.

  “Does this character flaw include crying when rejecting someone you have no feelings for?” Again he moved her chin to face him. She lowered her lashes as two traitorous tears sped down her cheeks. He thumbed one away.

  Oh, God if You’re there. Please give me strength. She closed her eyes beneath his touch. His kissed the other tear away. Before she could jerk back, his lips descended onto hers. His breath filled her mouth.

  And she lost herself in his taste, his male scent, the tender touch of his lips, so unlike other men who’d kissed her.

  Her skin tingled. Her body grew weightless and drifted toward the sky. If only she could fly away with James, away from everyone, away from her past, away from Dodd.

  What am I doing?

  Shoving him back, she punched his chest, grabbed Stowy, and inched away with one thought in mind. Get as far from James as she could. The branch bounced, she shrieked, lost her grip, and toppled to the bough beneath her. Landing hard. Squashed between her chest and the bark, Stowy let out a painful howl.

  “Don’t move, Angeline. Stay there.” She could hear the creak of wood as James made his way down to her.

  No! He would touch her, hold her, rescue her again. She couldn’t allow it. Her heart couldn’t take it. “Stay away!” She struggled to rise. Cradling Stowy, she slid to the branch below. It was too thin, too slick from rain. She slipped. Her feet met air. One arm flailing, she reached for another bough, but her hand scraped over bark. Her leg caught on something. The rip of fabric filled her ears. Along with Stowy’s mournful screech.

  Splat! Angeline landed on her derrière in the mud. Stowy flew from her arms and alighted on a pile of broken branches beside her.

  “Angeline! Are you hurt?” James shouted.

  Water soaked through her skirts into her petticoat and night-dress. A croak brought her gaze to a toad sitting atop a rock to her left. A giggle burst into her throat, but she forced it back. “You! You made me fall!” She lifted her hands and shook off the mud as James skillfully navigated the tree, swung down on the final branch, and landed on the ground with a splash.

  He started toward her. “If you hadn’t been in such a hurry to get away from me—”

  “Because you made improper advances!”

  Stopping, James cocked a brow. “If I had made improper advances, you would not have fallen, I assure you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” She reached for the gun at her waist, but her hand met the empty belt around her skirt. “Are you saying you would restrain a woman against her will?”

  “Missing your pistols, your dragonship?” He quirked a grin that made her want to giggle, to toss mud at him, to drag him down with her until they both burst forth with laughter. But instead she forced anger into her tone. “If you wish me to b
e a dragon, I shall oblige you!” She had no idea what that meant, but it was the only retort she found on her lips.

  He chuckled. “Dragon or not, I would never restrain a woman.”

  “Why? Because you are so captivating, so virile, so exciting that women swoon in your arms?” Though honestly she couldn’t blame them.

  This, however, seemed to hit the mark as the grin faded from his lips and he lowered his chin with a sigh.

  Angeline felt like sinking into the mud.

  Instead, James extended a hand to assist her up. Refusing it, she struggled to rise, got caught on her skirt, fell down again, growled, then shoved herself up to stand. She wanted to thank him for saving her life, for risking his own for the likes of her, for being so wonderful and charming and honorable…

  Reaching up, he wiped mud from her cheek. She stepped back. “We should get going. Come Stowy.” She turned to gather the cat in her arms, but he leapt into James’s instead.

  Clutching her skirts, she started sloshing back toward town. Traitor.

  C

  HAPTER 15

  The crash and fizzle of ocean waves—normally soothing to Angeline—grated over her like a washboard on skin. Still, she was thankful to see the storm’s retreat on the horizon, waving farewell in robes resplendent in amber, coral, and ruby—a promise for a sunny day on the morrow. Yet no amount of sun could brighten the colonists’ dour mood. Especially after a day of scouring the jungle for castoffs left by the river, hidden booty shoved behind bushes and stuffed up trees in some kind of demonic treasure hunt. And always the trinket disappointed. A shirt here, a hat there, an iron pot over there, but not enough left of the things they really needed.

  “Thank God we found some of our clothes scattered about.” Ever the optimist, Eliza plucked a sopping pair of trousers from a bucket and flung them over the line the men had strung between palms.

  Angeline finished hanging a petticoat and stretched the aches from her back. She’d given up on the ones in her legs long ago.

  “Mercy me, Eliza.” Magnolia stuffed a wayward hair into her bun. “Our entire town is destroyed. We have no homes, no food, no cots, and now we are forced to sleep on the sand like burrowing crabs. I hardly think a few clothes will aid our situation.”