Abandoned Memories

by Marylu Tyndall

  Wind sent the flames sputtering and brought a welcome chill to the sweat on the back of his neck.

  Hayden snapped hair from his face. “So, what are we to do about this beast, Doc? I assume that’s why you asked us to forego our sleep.”

  “Yes. I finished interpreting the book.” Drawing a deep breath, James sat and leaned forward on his knees. “From what I have learned, I believe it is possible to send the freed beasts back to their chains and keep the fourth one from being released. The Hebrew text speaks over and over of the six.” God help him. He had studied and prayed and studied and prayed, asking for wisdom to interpret the words correctly. If he was wrong—even in a verb tense or the meaning of a single word—it could mean their doom.

  “The six?” Eliza fingered a locket around her neck, her voice tainted with the skepticism she so often tried to hide.

  James stared at the sand by his boot and wondered how to continue, how to share what sounded like complete lunacy, but what he knew in his gut was the truth. Picking up the book, he opened it to where he’d placed a leaf as marker and began to read from his translation. “ ‘The six are known to the six, yet not known. Called from afar. A destiny from above. And only through them can evil be chained.’ ”

  He glanced at his friends. All eyes were upon him, sparkling in the firelight. Some were narrowed in confusion, others wide beneath arched brows, while others shifted to stare at the dance of flames.

  Magnolia scrunched her nose. “What does it mean, ‘known…yet not known’? And who are these six?”

  James drew a deep breath, hesitated, then decided he might as well just say it. “I believe we are the six.”

  Hayden chuckled. Eliza slipped her locket within her bodice and folded her hands together. James didn’t look at Angeline, but he could feel her eyes on him.

  “What makes you say that?” Blake asked, lines forming on his forehead.

  A howl echoed from the jungle, deep and malevolent, setting James’s nerves on end. As if they weren’t already tight enough. “I’ve prayed and prayed about this. I know this sounds absurd, preposterous even. But hear me out. When we all came aboard the New Hope eight months ago, we were complete strangers to one another, correct?”

  Blake nodded. Eliza shared a glance with Magnolia while Angeline lifted her gaze to Hayden, who was oddly staring at James. James shifted uncomfortably on his seat, hoping that the reason for Hayden’s interest was not that he had known James from before. Closing the book, he set it down on the sand and continued. “Yet, somehow our lives are connected.” He faced Eliza. “I saw your husband commit a horrible act on the battlefield.” She swallowed and gave a slight nod. “An act that affected Blake greatly and changed his life.” Releasing a sigh, the colonel swung an arm around his wife and drew her near.

  “That’s three of us who affected each other’s lives before we even knew one another.” James turned to Magnolia. “You told me that you knew Eliza before you boarded the New Hope.”

  “Yes”—she smiled at her friend—“we met at a party at Eliza’s aunt and uncle’s hotel.”

  “You introduced me to Stanton…” Eliza’s voice trailed off, her eyes growing wide. “I would have never married him…”

  Magnolia winced.

  “I would never have run away from home, been disowned by my family.” Eliza lowered her chin, and Blake brought her hand to his lips. She looked at him in horror. “Who knows, maybe Stanton would never have murdered your brother.”

  Blake eased a curl from her face. “What’s done is done, love. It doesn’t matter now.”

  Hayden’s gaze shot to his wife. “And you were engaged to my father.”

  “I need no reminder of that huge mistake.” Magnolia stuffed hair into her bun.

  “But don’t you see?” James stood, his blood pumping fast. “That links Hayden to Magnolia and Magnolia to Eliza and Blake to Eliza and me to Blake and Eliza.” He dared a glance at Angeline. “But what I cannot determine is how you are connected in all this.”

  “I’m not.” Angeline swept pointed eyes his way. “You of all people should know that a woman like me could never be used to defeat evil.” Her sharp tone sliced through James’s heart. Yet even as she said the words, her gaze brushed over Hayden before returning to the fire.

  Withdrawing his arm from Magnolia, Hayden picked up a chip of wood and began fingering it. Seconds passed as another gust of wind kicked sparks from the fire into the night. “Angeline and I have only recently discovered a prior connection,” Hayden finally said. “I swindled the man who murdered her father. Inadvertently causing her father’s death, in fact.” He tossed the wood in the fire as everyone stared at him in disbelief, eyes shifting from him to Angeline.

  But she refused to look at any of them, her eyes downcast, her arms looped around her waist, her hair sparkling in red and gold like the fire itself.

  “I didn’t know what had transpired after I tricked the man.” Hayden’s tone weighed heavy with remorse. “I simply left town with my pockets full.”

  Angeline finally raised her gaze to Hayden’s. The moisture covering her eyes threatened to undo James and send him dashing to her side. “You couldn’t have known.” She smiled and glanced over the group. “Hayden and I have made our peace.”

  Shoving down yet another burst of admiration for the lady, James tore his gaze away and instead focused on his growing excitement as the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. Yet at the same time, sorrow also consumed him at the horrible way each of his dear friends had affected the other ones. All except him. Aside from seeing Eliza’s husband kill Blake’s brother, James had no direct connection with any of them. Perhaps it was he who wasn’t part of the six.

  “Before you go thinking you are innocent, Doc…” Hayden shifted his boots in the sand. “You and I crossed paths once.”

  James studied his friend. He would have remembered a man like Hayden. “You must be mistaken.”

  “Nope. I snuck in the back of your church in Knoxville on a cold night in February. I didn’t stay long. I needed to find some meaning to my life. I’d grown tired of swindling people, of searching for my father.”

  A burst of dread formed in James’s gut, even as hope dared to spark. What had he preached that night? Had his words been a comfort to Hayden?

  “You preached on how God was a father to the fatherless, a husband to widows. How He adopts us into His family so we are never alone. Your words really spoke to me that night, Doc. You have a gift. I left that church wanting to change my life and give God a chance.”

  James would have allowed his heart to lift at the great testimony except for the look of despair resident in Hayden’s eyes. And the frown tugging at his lips.

  “Until I saw you in a tavern later that night slobbering over some woman.”

  Night birds and insects buzzed from the jungle, making James hope that he’d heard the man wrong, but when all eyes snapped toward him, he knew he hadn’t. A brick landed in his stomach. Closing his eyes, he prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Anything to avoid the looks of shock and disgust on the faces of those whom he’d come to love and admire. He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. He had so wanted to start anew, to be a good preacher and spiritual guide for the colony. But how could he do that when his friends knew the truth?

  As if things weren’t bad enough, Hayden continued. “I know you’re not that man now, but when I saw your hypocrisy, I gave up on God, moved to Norfolk, and ended up achieving my greatest swindle…the one which caused the murder of Angeline’s father.”

  Could things get any worse? Now James had indirectly caused Angeline’s father’s death! His heart became an anchor in his chest. He dared a glance her way, but she stared at the fire, a tear sliding down her cheek.

  Behind him, angry waves tumbled ashore, thundering and frothing like his insides—like his mind. Here he’d thought he had no real connection with his friends, and it turned out he’d had the worst connection of al
l.

  “I knew you, as well, before our trip.” Angeline’s honeyed voice brought James’s gaze up to her. No, impossible. James couldn’t take any more bad news. His body felt numb, his mind dazed. He merely stared at her, feeling as if it would be best if he just floated into the night sky alongside the sparks from the fire.

  Her freckles tightened like they always did when she grew angry. “You were drunk, stumbling through the streets of Knoxville, blood splattered on your shirt, muttering something about your father.”

  The night his father had died. James lowered his chin, feeling the pain even now.

  “I brought you to my room, cleaned you up, and took care of you.”

  James stared at her in shock. This woman—this trollop—had been the angel who had changed his life that horrid night over a year ago? The night he’d wanted to kill himself. If not for her, he might have succeeded. Vague memories like shadowy figures slipped in and out of his foggy mind. When he’d found his father shot in a tavern and James couldn’t save him, his anger had gotten the best of him, and he’d drawn his sword on the man responsible—Tabitha’s husband. They’d fought. James stared at the fire and rubbed the scar angling alongside his mouth where the man had sliced him, where the man had bested him and could have run him through, but he’d granted James mercy and ran off. Laden with guilt, and wishing the man had ended his life, James drank and drank and drank until he couldn’t feel anything. But an angel had come to his rescue. Or at least he’d thought it was an angel. When he’d woken the next day, he was in a room above a tavern, the night’s rent and a hot meal paid for. And his memories full of an auburn-haired woman ministering to him in the night, holding his head while he tossed his accounts, wiping his forehead, singing gently.

  “You tended my wound. You knew all along where this scar came from.”

  “No. I only knew when it happened, not why or how.”

  And James wouldn’t tell her now. Or any of them. He’d already brought more than enough shame on himself. Yet further memories of that night invaded as he stared at her in shock. “You spoke scripture to me.”

  She nodded. “I remembered a psalm from my childhood. My father’s favorite, Psalm 23. It was the only thing I could think to do. You seemed so distraught…so…”—pain misted her eyes—“so hopeless.”

  “That scripture, your kindness that night, it changed my life.” James fought back the burning behind his eyes. “I made a decision to be a better man. To leave my home and start anew.”

  She blinked, her eyes shifting between his.

  The fire crackled and spit like his conscience was doing. Though he’d bedded women without benefit of marriage, he’d thought her profession made her a worse sinner than he. He’d looked down on her, thought of her as too stained to become his wife. Yet, all along, she possessed the heart of an angel, while his was as black as coal.

  Blake struggled to rise. “This is incredible. Unbelievable! Before we ever met, each of us affected the others. Our paths crossed in ways we could never have imagined, and the encounters changed each of our lives dramatically.”

  “For the worse,” Hayden spat.

  “No, you’re looking at it all wrong,” Blake continued. “Yes, our associations caused bad things to happen. But, don’t you see? None of us would be here in Brazil at this time and place if we hadn’t met before.” The colonel scanned them, determination firing from his eyes. “If my brother hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have started this expedition. I would be home with Jerry. Angeline, if your father hadn’t been murdered, you would have never ended up an orphan on the streets. You would have never met James. You wouldn’t have joined this venture.”

  Angeline nodded. “Indeed. I’d be with my father.”

  “Magnolia.” Blake spun to face her. “If Hayden’s father hadn’t stolen your family’s money, you and your parents would still be on your plantation in Georgia, or at the very least, still in Roswell, living a good life. If you hadn’t introduced Eliza to Stanton, she would have never run off with him and been disowned by her parents. She would have never become a nurse. She would have never been ostracized by the South and in need of a new start.” He shifted his gaze to Hayden. “If you hadn’t been disillusioned by James’s hypocrisy—sorry James”—he added over his shoulder—“you wouldn’t have swindled the man who caused Angeline’s father’s death. Then not only would she have never come to Brazil, but she would have never saved James that night, changed his outlook, his purpose to want a moral society, which eventually brought him here as well. All these chance meetings and events have led us to this exact moment. To this exact place.”

  Thoughts and memories spun a web in James’s mind of impossible encounters, of strings of time and place and plans and devices that when looped together formed a perfect lattice of will and purpose. “Not known but known,” he repeated the words from the book, his heart hammering. “That’s us! Called from afar. A destiny from above. Six is the number of man. It makes sense now. God gave dominion of earth to man. Man handed earth’s keys to Satan when Adam rebelled against God. God chooses to work through man to defeat evil on earth.”

  “I don’t understand,” Magnolia said.

  “Never mind.” James shoved a hand through his hair and took up a pace. “God knew this would happen. He knew the beasts would one day be released. Before we were even born, He chose us for this task, adjusted the course of each of our lives to bring us here to this place at this time for this purpose. Don’t you see?” He glanced at his friends, their expressions frozen in shock and amazement.

  “We are the six. God brought us here to defeat the evil beasts.”

  C

  HAPTER 35

  Trying to settle her restless thoughts, Angeline made her way to the shelter she shared with the colony’s women. She must remember to thank Hayden for not mentioning their other connection. Though it would bolster James’s theory of the six’s prior associations—or not so much a theory anymore as incredible fact—it would do more harm than good to disclose that she was a murderer. After all, how much of her sordid past could her friends tolerate? They might even lock her up if they thought her capable of killing someone. She wouldn’t blame them in the least. Of course they’d find out soon enough if Dodd followed through with his threat. She had resigned herself to that. And then she would leave this beautiful land, along with her only friends in the world. No, not her only friends. God loved her. He would always be with her. Even if she had to stand trial for murder.

  Skirting around sleeping colonists, she was nearly at the entrance to the hut when footsteps sounded and a touch on her arm wheeled her around. She raised her hand, ready to strike.

  “Whoa, whoa, it’s only me,” James whispered as he grabbed her wrist and lowered it. “Why so skittish?”

  “Force of habit, I suppose,” she breathed out then tried to see his expression in the darkness. Could he fathom what her life had been like working for Miss Lucia? The disgust and shame she faced each day, the constant fear, the customers who’d enjoyed beating her as much as they had using her body? It was why she’d always carried a pistol, until she lost it in the flood.

  A cloud shifted, and moonlight revealed a spark of understanding in his eyes. Followed by sorrow—overwhelming sorrow. “Will you walk with me?” he asked.

  A breeze showered her with his musky scent and tossed his hair in every direction, just like his touch and the kindness in his voice were doing to her thoughts. Jumbled and anxious, they churned with ideas of destiny, purpose, battles against evil, and now with her feelings for this man before her, who had the power to destroy her. Should she go with him? Allow him a doorway back into her heart?

  Yet in the end, she knew she could not deny him. She nodded. They hadn’t gone far before he spoke. “I am a buffoon.” He stopped before the waves that spun arcs of silver filigree on the dark sand. Angeline’s heart ceased beating.

  “The hugest buffoon ever to live,” he continued.

  She shook her head,
afraid to hear any more. Afraid her heart could not ride the wave of yet another crest of hope, only to be plunged to the depths of despair.

  “I have misjudged you, Angeline.”

  Angeline’s lungs beat against her chest. She sought his eyes in the darkness, but he lowered his gaze.

  “I believed it was an angel who tended me that night.” He took her hands in his, caressing her fingers. She withdrew, not ready to receive his touch, not ready to erase the hurt he’d caused her.

  “I was right. It was an angel. It was you, Angeline, my angel.” He released a heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me for the cruel things I said, for forcing my kiss on you? I behaved like a monster. A complete cad.”

  Yes, he had. And he had broken every piece of her heart. But at the moment, she found the memory fading beneath the soothing baritone of his voice, the brief look of love in his eyes afforded her by the shifting moonlight. Dare she hope?

  “But I cannot erase my past,” she said. “I was—”

  “You are a proper lady.” He leaned to gaze in her eyes. “With a good heart and a kind spirit and an honor and decency that I’ve come to realize far exceeds mine.”

  He shamed her with his praise, and she looked out to sea where the moon flung diamonds atop ebony waters. “You go too far.”

  “Not far enough. For years I’ve blamed my troubles, my sins on others, only to discover it was my own weakness, my own lack of faith, which caused my pain.”

  She smiled. “I have discovered the same.”

  He cupped her face and brushed fingers over her cheek. Warmth trickled in pleasurable eddies down to her toes.

  He leaned to whisper in her ear. “Let us start fresh, you and I. Please, Angeline.”

  She closed her eyes, cherishing the feel of his breath on her neck. “Start afresh? We may not even survive tomorrow.”

  “Which is why I cannot wait another minute without begging your forgiveness.” He raised her hands to his lips. “And without telling you that I’m absolutely mad about you. I love you, Angeline.”