Abandoned Memories

by Marylu Tyndall

  She glanced into the canopy, searching for fruit, but instead saw dozens of colorful birds hopping from branch to branch, trilling their happy tunes. Always happy. Always carefree. Oh, how she envied them. They had naught to fear from flood or ants or invisible beasts. A verse from scripture rose in her mind…something about how birds neither sow nor reap, but God cares for them. She pushed it aside. Comforting words meant for others. Not her.

  Lowering her gaze, she scanned the delicate green lace of life that surrounded her. Where had the other ladies gone? Magnolia, Sarah, and the two other women who’d been sent in search of fruit. Nothing but ferns and vines and leaves large enough to be gowns met her gaze. Not to mention the occasional spider or lizard or frog. But they didn’t bother her. She had bigger reptiles to deal with. Still, Blake had instructed the women to stay together.

  In truth, she relished the time alone. Sharing a shelter with four other women had not allowed her any time to think, to decide what to do about Dodd. Even though, deep down, she already knew her answer. And that answer saddened her more than anything.

  Batting aside a leaf, she moved forward, her boots sinking into the still-sodden ground. Perspiration dampened her neck and brow and made her long for the ocean breezes she left behind only moments before. Prying her shoe from the mud, a memory forced its way into her thoughts. Of a dark night and another muddy puddle. Of another pair of shabby boots—with holes in the toes—stepping into the muck as she made her way down the streets of Richmond. The icy mire had seeped into her stockings and crept up her ankles until her legs shivered. Not wanting to risk being recognized, she’d hid her face in the folds of her cloak as she kept to the shadows—hungry, cold, wet, and wishing for death. Angeline tried to shake away the memories. The depths to which she’d been reduced—begging on the streets like an urchin.

  Little did she know, she would sink lower still.

  She drew in a deep breath of the humid air so full of life, hoping some of that life would infiltrate her soul. But instead she heard crackling rising from all around. Fearing what it foretold, she stopped and squeezed her eyes shut. But the voice slithered over her ears nonetheless. It was the same voice of kindness, of charity, she’d heard that night over two years ago. The voice that had saved her.

  And brought her to her doom.

  She opened her eyes.

  “Oh, you poor dear,” Miss Lucia said, clipping Angeline’s chin and turning her face side to side, just as she had done that dark night. “Such a fright. And so thin. Why, I declare, you are in dire need of a hot meal and an even hotter bath. I have just the thing for you, darling. Now, don’t you worry.”

  Angeline could do nothing but stand and stare at the woman with her ample bosom and rounded hips, bedecked in glitter and feathers just as she had been that night. She’d been stunned by the woman’s interest in her. Wary, of course, but too hungry and tired to care. Now, with Miss Lucia standing before Angeline looking as real as any of the trees that circled them, all the emotions of that night returned—raw and festering like open sores. She had allowed Miss Lucia to take her to an upstairs room at the Night Owl. She’d eaten her food, taken a bath, and slept in one of her feather beds. The woman had been so kind, Angeline wondered if this was what it felt like to have a mother, an older woman to care for her and love her and teach her the things women must know. On Angeline’s fourth day at the Night Owl, she discovered Miss Lucia would skip over the first two and only provide the third.

  Now, placing a jeweled hand on her rounded hip and tapping her fan to her chin, Miss Lucia sashayed around Angeline. “Yes…yes…you will do nicely.” She had dressed her up in a lovely gown of creamy taffeta with a red silk ruche. And a bodice far too low for Angeline’s tastes. “Now, you go out there, honey, and be friendly. That’s all I ask in return for my hospitality.” And then she’d smiled, that pearly smile of hers, made all the whiter by her brightly painted red lips.

  The trees shrunk into tables, branches into men with tankards. The leaf-strewn ground into a floor strewn with other far nastier things: spit and ale and tobacco. And Miss Lucia nudged her into the crowd. All eyes shot to her like darts to a bull’s-eye, leering, salivating. Hands reaching, swatting her behind, pulling her onto laps.

  “Leave me alone!” She shoved them away. “Don’t touch me.”

  A meaty hand gripped her arm. She struggled to free herself. “Let me go!”

  “Angeline!”

  She looked up and saw Dodd smiling at her with a grin of merciless victory. The tables and men faded. One glance over her shoulder told Angeline Miss Lucia was gone as well. Yet Dodd remained. She tore from his grasp and backed away, rubbing her arm. “You’re real.”

  “In the flesh, my dear. But I believe you were having a dream. Or perhaps a vision?”

  “A nightmare since you were in it.” She reached for her pistol but remembered she’d lost it in the flood. Then, stooping, she picked up her basket and fruit. At least she’d have something to swat him with should he come nearer. “What do you want?”

  “It’s been two weeks, my dear. I must hear your answer.”

  “Surely you’ve seen that I’m no longer associating with James. In fact, I’ve told him to leave me alone.”

  A breeze lifted strands of his blond hair as his narrowed eyes assessed her. “What does that matter to me?”

  “Your threat was due to our courtship, was it not?”

  “Threat is such a nasty word. I prefer to call it an arrangement.” He fingered a leaf by his side. “And yes, your pending affair with the good doctor prodded me to action, though I had hoped you would come to me on your own.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Because of what you are.” Incredulous, he looked at her as if the fact were inescapable.

  Shame and fear burned in her throat. “I am not that woman anymore.”

  “Ah ah ah.” He wagged a finger. “You can never erase such a blemish from your soul. What does the scripture say about fallen women…something about pigs with rings in their snouts?”

  Perspiration slid down her back. “What would you know of the Bible?” What would she, in fact? Just snippets from her childhood when her father would read to her. Thankfully, she remembered no such reference to jeweled pigs.

  “Regardless. The arrangement stands. You come to me twice a week and I keep your shameful little secret.” Blue eyes scanned her from head to toe. He licked his lips.

  She had no doubt the carnal letch would keep to his word if she complied. Even if he also knew the other truth about her, she doubted he’d give up her services to tell anyone. Nevertheless, she had but two cards to play with this huckster. She forced a complacent expression. “And why should I care if you tell everyone?”

  He smiled. “Because I’ve been watching you, my dear, and I see how much you value your newfound friends. All that would disappear if they knew who you really were. In fact, the pious doctor may even ostracize you from the colony. He does seem to have an aversion toward trollops.”

  The word burned her ears and sped to the canopy, where birds gobbled it up and spit it back down. Trollop, trollop, trollop.

  Dropping the basket, she covered her ears.

  “Come now, it’s not so bad. Why, you could even start up your own business in New Hope. Lord knows the town needs a little entertainment.”

  “Never! I came here to get away from that.”

  He cocked his head. “Yet we can’t change who we really are, can we?”

  Tears burned behind her eyes, but she forced them back. She had thought she could change. She had thought she could become a real lady.

  “Perhaps you are right.” She glared at him. “You are still the vulgar swine you always were.”

  He flinched as if wounded. But that couldn’t be. The man had no heart to wound. “My point is proven, then.”

  Angeline stared at the ground, expecting to see her heart, her very soul bleed from her boots into the mud. She had but one card left, but it
broke her heart to play it.

  “I will leave.”

  Finally she got a reaction out of him. “What?”

  “I’m going back to the States.” She lifted her chin, enjoying her moment of power. “Thiago is taking a group to Rio tomorrow. I intend to accompany them.” Back to a land where her past was known and she was wanted by the law. Back to horrid memories and a hopeless future.

  But what choice did she have?

  A slice of sunlight angled over his crooked nose as his eyes filled with malice. “I will still tell them.”

  “I’m sure you will.” She knelt to pick up her basket and fruit and then pivoted on her heels. “Good day, Mr. Dodd.”

  Fingers as tight as bands clenched her arm and yanked her back. “No wench walks away from Dodd!”

  Pain burned into her shoulders. She struggled against his grip and was about to kick him in the shin when James, hair askew, face red, stormed into the clearing. “What did you call her?”

  James couldn’t believe his ears. Or his eyes. He knew Dodd had a fetish for Miss Angeline. He’d seen the way he gaped at her, licking his lips as if she were his next meal. Which was why he’d followed the man when he plunged into the jungle. But this! Grabbing her. Calling her foul names! Charging forward, he shoved Dodd, sending him toppling backward. Eyes firing like cannons, Dodd righted himself and brushed his vest where James had touched.

  Despite the heat, Angeline’s face was white as frost. Her moist eyes, filled with terror, shifted between him and Dodd.

  He’d kill the man for frightening her. “How dare you touch her!” He barreled toward him. Dodd’s eyes widened, but he had no time to react before James clutched his collar and thrashed him against a tree trunk. “What kind of lawman are you?” He ground Dodd’s back into the rough bark, but fear had fled the man’s face, replaced by superior smugness that ignited James’s rage.

  “I did the woman no harm. Ask her yourself.”

  James glanced over his shoulder, expecting to find Angeline relieved, perhaps even grateful to have been rescued from such a monster. Instead she trembled like the leaves all around them. “Let him alone, James,” she said almost sullenly.

  “He should be taught how to treat a lady,” James growled.

  Dodd snickered, and James tightened his grip on his throat.

  “I said leave him be.” Angeline’s voice turned commanding. “He did me no harm.”

  Something was wrong. Why would such a strong, independent woman like Angeline—one who became a dragon at the slightest provocation—allow a worm like Dodd to defame her good character? James released the fiend.

  Stretching his shoulders, Dodd circled him with a wary eye.

  “Nevertheless, you will apologize for insulting her character,” James said.

  Dodd and Angeline glanced at each other as if they shared a secret. “There is no need,” she said. Pleading filled her misty eyes.

  “There is every need.” He grabbed Dodd’s arm and squeezed until the man winced. “Apologize to the lady.”

  For some reason, Dodd found this amusing. “My apologies, milady.” The title rode like a taunt from a jester’s lips.

  Releasing him yet again, James stepped back, resisting the urge to punch the smirk from his lips. Dodd winked at Angeline, cast a scathing look at James, then turned and sauntered away, whistling a happy tune.

  Shoving a hand through his hair, James faced Angeline. “Why grant mercy to such a beast?”

  She wouldn’t look at him. “Everyone deserves mercy, James. Being a preacher, surely you know that.”

  “Mercy is one thing. Justice another. And if Dodd isn’t taught a lesson, he’ll try to harm you again.”

  Her gaze skittered across the jungle. “If you don’t mind, I should be getting back.” And without another word, another explanation, or even a thank you, she turned and headed down the trail.

  James caught up to her. “I know I’ve gone and done the unthinkable and rescued you again. How will you ever forgive me?” He intended to bring some levity to the confusing situation, but her scowl only deepened.

  “You didn’t, and I do.” Her tone was placid, her eyes straight ahead.

  James forced down a groan of frustration. “What is it between you and Dodd?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I hardly know the man.” She brushed aside a patch of ferns, her shoes making splat, splat sounds in the mud.

  “He’s dangerous. I see the way he looks at you.”

  “As he does all the women. He’s harmless, I assure you.”

  But the quaver in her tone spoke otherwise. They proceeded in silence for several minutes, James leading the way so he could move the thick foliage aside for her.

  “Please do not wander off alone again.” He held back the final leaves before they emerged onto the beach. “Will you promise me that?”

  “There is no need. For I won’t be here to wander.” She stepped onto the sand and hurried forward, no doubt desperate to relieve herself of his company.

  Stunned as much by her words as by the slap of bright sunlight, James followed and touched her shoulder, halting her.

  “What are you saying?” He didn’t want to believe her words—prayed he’d heard her wrong.

  She glanced toward the waves washing ashore, a forlorn look on her face. “I’m leaving for Rio tomorrow with the others.”

  Her words scattered into nonsensical phrases in his mind. He’d accepted that she didn’t want a courtship. That she found him repugnant. But he could not accept never seeing her again.

  “If it’s because of me, I have received your message loud and clear. I understand your sentiments, and I won’t be pursuing you.”

  Wind tussled her fiery hair. “It’s not you.” A glint of affection sped across her eyes…ever so slight. Then it was gone. She started walking. “I’m tired of sleeping on the sand and eating fruit and fish. It was a mistake coming here. Our utopia has failed. I have the good sense to know when to accept that.” She didn’t sound convincing.

  “But you have no one back home.”

  “That’s none of your concern, Doctor.” Shielding her eyes from the sun, she gave him one final glance before she swirled about and walked away.

  Leaving James feeling like one of the empty seashells lying at his feet.

  Angeline couldn’t take another minute of this agony. It was bad enough she hadn’t slept all night. Bad enough she had to witness the torment carved on James’s face yesterday. Now she must endure the tears of her closest friends as they stood around her bidding her farewell. Magnolia, Sarah, and Eliza embraced her over and over, wiping tears from their eyes, begging her to stay. Another moment of such genuine affection and she might give in. Throw her past to the wind and remain with the only friends she’d ever had.

  Yet how long would they be her friends once the truth was known?

  The sun finally burst above the horizon, spreading its honeyed feathers over sea and land, and causing Angeline to blink. Good thing, for she didn’t know how much longer she could hold her tears at bay. Releasing Eliza’s hand, she hefted her satchel over her shoulder and glanced at Thiago, who was preparing his own sack for the journey. Only seven of the colonists dared to make the five-day trek to Rio, preferring to take their chances in the jungle rather than remain in the ill-fated colony waiting for a ship to arrive. She shouldn’t be one of them. She didn’t believe the colony was doomed. She believed they all had a chance at life and hope and new beginnings.

  Her gaze landed on James in the distance. With trousers hiked to his knees, he stared at the sunrise, arms folded over his chest, waves swirling about his legs. Even now, she felt drawn to him like a plant to the sunlight. He glanced over his shoulder and their eyes met, though she couldn’t make out his expression. Had he sensed her looking at him? No matter. Turning, he hung his head and started walking in the opposite direction.

  She would never see him again. Now the tears finally came.

  “See, you’re crying.
” Magnolia looped her arm through Angeline’s and handed her a handkerchief. “You don’t wish to leave us after all.”

  “Of course I don’t wish to leave such good friends.” Angeline dabbed her cheeks and glanced over the three ladies. “But I must go.”

  “I still don’t understand.” Eliza tossed hair over her shoulder. “After all we’ve been through, surely it can’t get any worse.” She gave a sad smile.

  “And you have been so strong.” Sarah positioned Lydia higher on her hip. “Why leave now?”

  “I wish I could explain, but I can’t.”

  Lydia reached chubby fingers toward Angeline, gurgling happy sounds upon a stream of drool. Despite her tears, Angeline giggled and took the baby’s hand in hers, planting a kiss upon it. “I will miss you, little one. Be good for your mother.” Turning toward her friends, she opened her arms. “I will miss you all terribly.” The women fell into her embrace. Over their shoulders, she spotted Blake, Hayden, and some of the colonists making their way toward them, no doubt to say good-bye. All except Dodd, who leaned against a rock cliff by the water’s edge, scowling at her, and Patrick, who was engaged in a heated discussion with Magnolia’s parents. What they argued about, Angeline could only surmise. Though the couple was anxious to leave the colony, they had opted to wait for the comfort of a ship rather than traipse through “the primordial sludge of Brazil,” as Mr. Scott had put it.

  Boom! Thunder split the sky. Releasing her friends, Angeline glanced upward. Nothing but white clouds against a cerulean background. Sarah scanned the horizon and shrieked. Eliza’s wide eyes met Angeline’s. Swinging her arms around her friends, she shoved them to the side and forced them to the ground. An eerie whine scraped Angeline’s ears. The beach erupted in a fiery volcano. The dirt beneath them trembled. Sand showered over them like hail, pelting their backs as they huddled together. No one dared speak. In the distance, a woman screamed. Men shouted. Baby Lydia sobbed. The rain of sand ceased. Angeline glanced up to see a smoking crater just a few feet from where they’d been standing.