Abandoned Memories

by Marylu Tyndall

  Blake’s body stiffened. “We’ve got to stop the pirates. We’ve got to stop Patrick from releasing that fourth beast.”

  James glanced at Captain Ricu climbing the rope ladder to his ship. “Pirates have gunpowder…do they not?” He lifted his brows and scanned his friends.

  A slow grin spread over Hayden’s lips while Blake nodded his understanding.

  “We blow up the tunnels,” they all said in unison.

  “It’s the only way,” James added. “God is on our side. I believe He sent us here to stop these beasts.” He’d been sensing that for days. But now he hoped his friends would agree.

  Blake squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps. But even if we can destroy the tunnels, the pirates won’t give up on the gold. Not when they know it’s still down there.”

  “But it will buy us time.” James stared at the ship, a shadowy leviathan floating offshore. “But how do we get on board and steal enough gunpowder to blow up those tunnels?”

  C

  HAPTER 28

  James glanced over his shoulder at the pirates guarding the beach. Though a few of them had left at sunrise for the tunnels—along with several of the colony’s men—the rest stayed behind in order to keep the remaining colonists from escaping. “They are sneaking aboard tonight,” he answered Angeline, who had asked about their plans to steal the pirate’s gunpowder.

  “Who?”

  “Hayden and Blake,” James said as he slammed the ax through a thick piece of bamboo. He’d been attempting to reinforce the women’s shelter when Angeline approached. Storm clouds on the horizon portended rain, and he wanted a dry place for the ladies to congregate.

  “Why aren’t you going?”

  Wind tore a curl from her pins and sent it bouncing over her neck as her concerned gaze snapped to the pirate ship. James set down the ax and wiped sweat from his brow. Since she’d agreed to their courtship, she’d been seeking him out, starting conversations, sitting with him at meals, strolling with him on the beach, looking at him with those exquisite violet eyes so full of admiration. He felt like he was living in a dream, a dream ripe with hope and love and every possible joy. Yet at the same time he felt guilty for feeling such happiness in the midst of so much struggle and danger.

  He took her hand in his and caressed her fingers, thrilled when she no longer pulled away. “They need me here to protect the colony should…” He stopped, not wanting to alarm her.

  “They get caught.” She finished, her lips tightening. “I’m thankful you aren’t going. Is that selfish of me?”

  “Is it selfish of me to wish I was going?” He chuckled. “To want to do something—anything to stop this madness.”

  Swaddling his hand in both of hers, she brought it to her chest. “I fear for them. I fear for us all.”

  He ran a thumb over her cheek. She was so small, but he knew inside her petite frame, a dragon lurked—a dragon filled with strength and determination. And he loved her all the more for it. “They will be all right. God will go with them.”

  She smiled. “I wish I had your faith.”

  James squinted toward the rising sun. A handbreadth above the horizon, it scattered droplets of gold onto the restless sea. Did he have faith? Though Thiago had been healed and had come to believe more firmly in God, James hadn’t been sure either would happen. Did he truly believe that Hayden and Blake would be safe, or was he just reciting the expected platitude? Another trite proverb sat ready upon his lips—something about how Angeline could have faith too if she only believed—but it tumbled unspoken onto the sand. More proof that he wasn’t a very good preacher at all.

  “Thank you for working on our shelter.” She peered behind him at the tilting stack of bamboo and fronds.

  Running a hand through his hair, he gave a lopsided grin. “If that’s what you call it. But yes, I’m trying. I may even erect a front wall today so you ladies can at least enjoy some privacy.”

  “Doctor, preacher, and home builder. Is there no end to your talents?”

  He withheld a skeptical snort. He’d never had a woman look at him the way Angeline did. Other females had looked at him with interest, appreciation, fury, and even desire, but never with such admiration that his heart nearly burst. If he told her the truth—that he was good at none of those things—he feared the sparkle would fade from her eyes. And he didn’t think he could bear to see it go. “At your lady’s service.” He gave a mock bow.

  When he resumed his full height, her eyes were locked on his bare chest. She looked away and began fingering a wayward strand of hair. So accustomed to wearing minimal clothing in the sultry environment, he’d unwittingly forsook proper etiquette that morning. Still he found her innocence refreshing. And alluring.

  “Sweet saints,” she whispered then bit her lip.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.” Shielding her eyes from the sun, she returned her gaze to his. “I actually have a purpose for disturbing your work, James. To invite you to a picnic lunch.” She gestured to her left. “Just beyond the cliffs. In an hour? Just the two of us?”

  Heart leaping at her suggestion, he turned and grabbed his shirt from the sand and gave her a teasing smile. “Without a chaperone? I do hope you’re not trying to seduce me?”

  Chastising herself, Angeline begged James’s forgiveness and turned to leave. She truly had no idea how real ladies behaved. Maybe it was his bare chest that prompted her to ask such an improper thing. What was she thinking? Inviting a man to lunch! And without a proper escort? He must think her wanton.

  His hand on her arm stopped her. His look of remorse stilled the pounding of her heart.

  “Forgive me. My poor attempt at humor was completely unwarranted.” He searched her eyes. “I would love to join you.”

  “Very well.” Her insides unwound at his loving look. “On one condition.”

  “Anything.”

  She wanted to tell him—to insist—that he put on the shirt he held in his hand. His bare chest was driving her to distraction. Not because it was thick and corded with muscle. Not because it was tanned and lined in strength. But because it was James’s. And he was so close. A sturdy rock of manhood—a cave into which she longed to crawl and never come out. And she hated feeling that way. Needing him made her vulnerable. Did all women suffer such uncontrollable longings during courtship? As if they couldn’t get enough of their beau? As if they’d shrivel up and die without him?

  When she didn’t answer, he placed a finger beneath her chin and raised her gaze to his, one brow lifting. “Your condition, Miss?”

  “Oh, yes.” She attempted a smile. “That we don’t discuss any of our problems.”

  He nodded his agreement.

  And like a gentleman, he kept his word. For two hours Angeline and James—and Stowy—escaped the world with all its problems and stresses: the temple, the beasts, the visions, the disasters, the pirates. And most of all, Dodd. For two hours she sat on an old quilt in the sand and memorized every curve of James’s mouth; the scar that angled down the right side of his lips; the flex of his jaw; every sparkle in his eyes; the way the wind played havoc with his hair, making it poke out all over; the sound of his voice that reminded her of the thunder of waves. And his laughter, which brought a lightness to her spirit she’d never known. After sharing some of their meal, Stowy curled up in James’s lap, something he rarely did with anyone but her. Sweet saints, if the cat trusted this man so much, what reason did she have not to do the same?

  She discovered they both enjoyed the writings of Emerson and Thoreau, the artwork of Frederic Edwin Church, the sound of a violin, and fruitcake. They spoke little of their past and shared dreams for their future. A future that was beginning to form out of the haze of Angeline’s memories. Like the bright sun, it shoved aside the bitter cloud of her past and shaped her dreams into sparkling possibilities.

  She could spend a lifetime on this blanket with this man on this beach. And die happy.

  Finally he leaned
toward her and planted a kiss on her lips. A soft, chaste kiss, his breath feathering her cheek, as if he touched precious porcelain. She drew in a breath of him and felt her pulse race, imagining what it would feel like to be loved tenderly and gently, not harsh and rough like an animal satisfying an impulse. Memories invaded, sullying the moment. Voices shouted insults in her mind. James cupped the back of her neck and ran a thumb over her cheek, luring her out of the darkness.

  “Angeline, sweet, sweet, Angeline,” he breathed over her lips before tasting her again. Angeline’s world spun. What she wouldn’t give to be pure and innocent for this man. To be the lady he believed she was. Perhaps she could wish her former life away, abandon all her bad memories to the past where they belonged.

  James tasted of mango and salt and she pressed against him, wanting more and more, trusting him like she’d trusted no other. It began to rain. Small drops at first but then larger and larger, until the two separated, gathered their things, along with Stowy, and ran back to camp laughing like children.

  Hours later as the sun sank behind the tips of the trees, Angeline sat on the beach, Stowy in her lap, studying the webs of foam each wave created upon the shore. Each one was so delicate, so beautiful, so unique, it would put the finest Chantilly lace to shame. Yet how many exquisite designs bubbled over the sand one minute and then were gone the next? If she hadn’t been sitting here to observe, no one would have seen their beauty. How true of their own lives. Tossed upon the sand by God, some forming gorgeous patterns, others fading away too soon. But did anyone notice? Was something beautiful if no one ever saw it to proclaim it so? If it was swept away before anyone realized its value?

  “May I join you?”

  Startled, Angeline glanced up to see Hayden standing beside her, a friendly yet concerned smile on his face. “Of course.”

  He plopped to the sand and stretched out his legs, planting his hands behind him. For several minutes he stared at the sea, his jaw bunching then relaxing, then bunching again. No doubt, he was anxious about sneaking aboard the pirate ship in a few hours. Yet, why would he come to her and not his wife?

  “Is there something I can do for you, Hayden?” She caressed Stowy’s fur.

  He glanced over his shoulder at camp, where some of the colonists were starting the evening fire and several others were cutting fruit for supper. “You and James have an understanding?” He faced her.

  The topic took her by surprise. “We are courting.” Curiosity caused her to search his expression. Why would Hayden concern himself with her and James’s relationship? Especially in light of the danger he faced that night.

  He blew out a heavy sigh and gazed at the horizon. “I don’t know how to say this, but I feel I should discuss it with you before…”

  “Before you risk your life tonight?”

  “Indeed.” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “I don’t know what will happen, but I care deeply for both you and James. And, well, I suppose there is no delicate way to say this. Back in the States, I saw your likeness on a poster at the Norfolk sheriff’s station.” He stared at her. “You were wanted for murder.”

  Angeline’s heart collapsed. Her blood turned to ice. She gazed out to sea, trying to force breath into her lungs, trying to put on an expression of shock, of indignation. Anything but reveal the terror gripping her.

  “The name wasn’t yours,” he continued. “Clarissa somebody, but I’d know your face anywhere.”

  She dug her toes in the sand, staring at the wavelets stroking the shore, not finding them as beautiful as she had only moments before. “My face is a common one.”

  “Hardly.”

  She looked at him, at the way his lips curved in that alluring smile, and she knew why Magnolia was smitten with him.

  Angeline gave a huff of resignation. “What do you wish to know?”

  “What do I wish to know?” He gave a cynical chuckle. “Well, if you’re going to marry James, I suppose I’d like to know what your real name is and whether you are, indeed, a murderer.”

  A crab skittered across the sand. She followed it with her gaze.

  “Just tell me it isn’t true,” he continued. “Tell me it was a mistake and I’ll never mention it again.”

  A torrent of emotions clogged Angeline’s throat: fear, sorrow, anger. She opened her mouth to answer him, but nothing but a squeak emerged.

  “Angeline. I know you. You aren’t capable of murder. Tell me they had the wrong woman.”

  The crackle of a fire sounded in the distance, and she fully expected to see her clients appear to taunt her. She wanted to lie to Hayden. Wanted to shout that she had no idea what he was talking about. But it seemed that no matter how hard she tried, no matter that Dodd remained in a coma, her past would find a way to ruin her future.

  “Zooks, Angeline. What happened?”

  She closed her eyes, wishing the crashing waves would sweep over her and carry her away. “It’s a long story, Hayden.” Tugging on the chain around her neck, she pulled out her father’s ring and rubbed it gently with her thumb. The ruby and topazes barely shimmered in the fading light. “It started when my father was murdered. Thrown out the window of his shipyard by some madman claiming ownership.”

  She expected more questions. She expected the typical expression of sympathy. What she didn’t expect was to see Hayden’s face turn a shade of white to match the sand.

  “What was your father’s name?”

  “Frederick Paine. Why?”

  Hayden seemed to be having trouble breathing. “And the man who fought him?”

  “A Mr. Carson, I think. He took off afterward. We never saw him again. Why? What do you know of this?” She laid a hand on his sleeve. His arm trembled. “If you know something about my father, please tell me.”

  “I never met your father.” Hayden stared at the sand, his shoulders taut. “But I know about the deal that sent him to his death. The felonious accord which made Mr. Carson believe he owned your father’s shipyard.”

  Angeline’s thoughts spun in a whirlwind. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because I was the man who struck that bargain.”

  C

  HAPTER 29

  What are you saying?” Leaning forward, Angeline palmed the sand and shoved to her feet, still not believing her ears. Stowy circled the hem of her skirts, howling in annoyance.

  Hayden rose and brushed sand from his trousers. Guilt dripped from his expression.

  “You murdered my father?” Blood boiled through Angeline, muddling her thoughts and inflaming her anger. “You murdered my father!” Hot tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “Not directly.” Agony stretched across Hayden’s eyes. “I had no way of knowing Mr. Carson would react the way he did.”

  Raising her hand, Angeline slapped him across the cheek. Her hand stung, but it felt good. Hayden rubbed his jaw. She backed away and broke into sobs.

  “I’m so sorry, Angeline. I was a swindler, a confidence man back in the States. I hurt a lot of people, God forgive me.” He took a step toward her, holding out his hand.

  She shoved it away. Then batted tears from her face. She would not let this man see her cry. “You swindled this Mr. Carson?”

  “Yes, I sold him your father’s shipyard.”

  “But it wasn’t yours to sell.”

  “No.” He lowered his chin.

  “What did you think would happen?” Leaning over, she grabbed a handful of sand and tossed it at him. The grains struck him and slid down the fabric of his shirt. He never flinched. “What did you think!?” she shouted.

  “I didn’t.” His eyes misted. “I had no way of knowing Carson would shove your dad out that third-story window.” Wind tossed hair into his face and he snapped it away. “I’m not that man anymore.”

  Angeline didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was responsible for her father’s death. He was responsible for what she’d been forced to do afterward in order to survive! “Do you know what happened to me
after my father’s death? Do you?” She thrust her face into his. “I was an orphan. Went to live with my uncle. A terrible man.” She turned her back to him. She wouldn’t tell him anymore. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing the pain he had caused her. Instead she stood seething, longing for the pistol that used to sit in her belt.

  “I’m so sorry, Angeline.”

  Turning, she charged him and pounded both fists on his chest, her only thought to make him suffer as he had made her. But her thrusts merely bounced off thick muscle. He grabbed her hands and forced her to stop. Tearing from him, she dropped to her knees, gasping for air. Stowy hissed at Hayden.

  “Angeline.” He took a step toward her.

  She snapped her fiery eyes his way, feeling as though they could shoot darts at him if she so willed. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “I hope you can forgive me.”

  She scooped up Stowy. “If you’re truly sorry, then do me one small favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “You must not tell James. Not about the poster. Not about our talk.”

  He hesitated, drew in a deep breath, and glanced out to sea. “I make no promises.”

  Angeline stood and stiffened her spine. “I hate you, Hayden Gale. I will never forgive you. Ever.”

  Hayden slid into the dark water and dove beneath an incoming swell. Thank God the waves came in strong tonight. The thunderous sound would hopefully mask any splashes he and Blake made as they swam toward the pirate ship. Well past midnight, clouds covered a waning moon and a smattering of stars, keeping light at bay and the night reigning in darkness—another sign God was on their side. Well, of course the Almighty was on their side. Surely He wasn’t on the pirates’? Hadn’t they prayed with James, Eliza, and Magnolia before they’d left? If God could heal Thiago, certainly He could make their mission to steal gunpowder successful.

  Cool water gushed around Hayden, gurgling and slushing past his ears. Saltwater filled his mouth. He spit it out. The scent of brine stung his nose. Every muscle was tight. Every nerve coiled. Every sense heightened. Oh, God, please just get me back to Magnolia in one piece. Not hanging from a yardarm.