Unspoken Words (Hope and a Future Book 1)

by Janna Halterman

  Unspoken Words

  Hope and a Future ~ Book 1

  Janna Halterman

  UNSPOKEN WORDS (HOPE AND A FUTURE ~ BOOK 1)

  Copywrite © 2019 Janna Halterman.

  All rights reserved.

  First publication: July 2019

  Edited by Liz Giertz: My Messy Desk

  Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

  Scripture quotations marked (NIV) are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To my sweet children, my dreams come true,

  I pray you always know the depth of God’s love for you.

  Follow the dreams He puts in your heart.

  Prologue

  August 2161

  She was happy in her work, surrounded by poetry, adventures, mysteries, history, and pages upon pages of wisdom. The quiet of the library that assaulted the nerves of many a student worked as a tonic to her, calming and soothing her; though at times giving voice to loneliness. Silence was her old, familiar friend. Today it was especially quiescent. Students who frequented her workplace remained away on summer break and she was able to focus on re-shelving, something that had backed up considerably over the summer while their staff was minimal. It was a time-consuming task.

  Some time ago, the library had run out of room and when bookshelves could no longer expand outwards, they began to climb upwards. Re-shelving not only required carrying books all about the building, but also up and down ladders. But she loved climbing high up the ladders around the edges of the library. The tops of those ladders offered the best opportunity to admire the beautiful, stained glass windows; colorful mosaics depicting stories she’d never heard told. How odd it was to work surrounded by literature, having every sort of writing at her fingertips, and yet these window-trapped stories remained mysteries.

  Before the last civil war, the war that ripped the country in two, this particular library had been a church. It escaped the cruel fate of destruction most churches suffered after the war. It was preserved; transformed. She was glad it had been saved. The almost three-hundred-year-old building was a statement of grand architecture, nothing like their modern construction. With vaulted ceilings, arches chiseled from aged stone, and those story-telling windows that cast a myriad of colors through the musky, dust-filled air as the sun rose and set each day, it was a work of art.

  But the government had tried its best to hide the old building’s majesty. The bookshelves attested to that. Made of harsh metal and formed with the sole intent of function, they brought a cold industrial air to the otherwise architectural masterpiece.

  Not allowed to own property anymore, churches met quietly in peoples’ homes. It wasn’t against the law to be Christian, but she got the impression the government felt threatened by God and His people. Why else would they demolish and desecrate their places of worship?

  What it would have been like to be here when it was still a church, to hear the hall filled with praises to this God. She knew nothing of what church had once been like, but every time a rowdy group came through the building, the acoustics came to life. She had to believe it was built for song, and in her heart, she knew it must have been beautiful.

  She was lost in one of those moments of wonder when she met him. High up on a ladder, sightseeing in an era long gone in one of the glass pictures, she was startled.

  ***

  The book looked down at him, taunting him. His pride made him reach overhead for the ladder rung, and that pride was quickly smashed. His ribs groaned in protest, trapping his arm to his side, and flooding his mind with the unwelcome memories of the events which caused him this pain.

  Extremists had been tearing New Mexico apart. Unhappy with the peace between the United States and the Texas Republic, they were targeting government officials, businesses, private citizens – anyone they saw as sympathizers to the Texas Republic. He had been sent there to deal with them.

  And now he suffered the inconvenience of broken ribs because of them.

  He shook the dark memory from his thoughts. His time in New Mexico was not all bad, though. It earned him a promotion to the rank of Captain, and he received his new assignment with his ticket home.

  He was more than content to be home now. He much preferred heading up the Syracuse campus security, to dealing with the unreasonably violent and angry men and women of New Mexico.

  Patrols had placed him on light-duty for a month; minimal hours spent mostly observing the new trainees. Hours upon hours preparing for an unexpected teaching position consumed the majority of his first three weeks of convalescence. Now only one more week remained. Meanwhile, the book continued to mock him from its lofty position. Frustrated, his eyes surveyed the options.

  There was an older woman he could ask for help; a Mrs. Taaffe, by her name tag, who sat at the library’s main desk. But his gaze was caught by the young lady presently on a ladder, with her own gaze entrapped in the stained-glass windows. She was a rare and beautiful flower…and he’d suffered his fair share of thorns of late.

  He’d noticed her the first time he visited this library after his return from New Mexico. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he was captivated. Completely. She looked to be young, but he couldn’t be sure. In everything he’d seen of her, she didn’t behave like other girls, even girls his age. Perhaps she was older than she looked. He didn’t know. Maybe he noticed her because he saw others notice her, but he wasn’t sure what drew their attention either.

  She was beautiful, but you’d only notice if you took the time to look at her; which he did, often. Her posture was upright, yet somehow withdrawn. Her features were feminine and soft, though nothing was particularly striking enough to explain the stares she received. Her hair was a pretty color, an indefinable shade between blond and brunette, but was always up in a loose bun. If she wore it that way out of convenience or in an effort to evade attention, he didn’t know. It did show off the slender curve of her neck. She almost always wore a skirt or dress, but the style was modest and in colors that almost begged to go unnoticed. Unlike other women who desperately flaunted their figures, she dressed as if she were trying to hide hers. But try as she might to camouflage herself, she failed.

  Her head stayed down as she worked, unless someone spoke to her. Then she would look up with a smile; not flirtatious, just kind. And there were times, like now, when she looked like an angel as she stood on a ladder with her eyes open wide and her chin tilted upward. The only time he saw her stare intently at anything was when she stared at the stained glass.

  “Excuse me, Miss?” She jumped and he braced to catch the girl if she fell. Gripping the ladder to steady herself, she adjusted to the surprise. With a breath, she smiled down at him. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you. I was hoping you could help me. I’ve been searching for Compromising to Peace, but I’ve been unable to find it. Could you help me locate it?” That wasn’t the truth, but he
could live with that. He did need her help.

  “Of course.” Her soft voice was reserved, reflecting a gentleness he seldom heard. As she climbed down the ladder, he noticed she had perfected the art of ascending and descending ladders while holding her dress in such a way as to keep her figure safe from wandering eyes. Not that his eyes were wandering…

  Her feet on the ground now, she picked up a stack of books that sat to the side of the ladder. “It’s just this way.” Leading him to the aisle he’d just come from, and setting the stack of books on the floor, the girl retrieved a ladder and climbed to the top. “Unfortunately,” she called down in whisper to him, “you aren’t quite tall enough to have seen it.”

  When her feet touched the ground again, her eyes didn’t quite meet his, but she graced him with a smile as she handed him the book. He accepted the book, letting his fingers graze hers briefly. Judging by the soft blush in her cheeks, he easily discerned she was nervous. She had to be very young to blush so easily.

  “Thank you very much. I would have been searching for this all day.”

  Well, he would have been at least staring up at it all day.

  “I’m glad I could help you. Please let me know if you need anything else.” She knelt to retrieve her books.

  “I’m Jackson, by the way,” he blurted out in an attempt to continue the conversation with her.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Jackson.” She smiled as she stood. “I’m Evelyn.” And she was gone.

  It was a few days later when Jackson learned Evelyn was only nineteen. How’d he get himself interested in a nineteen-year-old? Maybe that was part of what he found so attractive about her, her youthful innocence. He wouldn’t act on his attraction, but that resolution couldn’t keep her out of his head.

  Between his own courses and the one he now taught, he had a heavy load of research to do; research he was happy to do in the library. That was the excuse he gave himself. But he caught himself looking at her, often, and always preferred seeking her help when he needed it. Even sometimes when he didn’t. For that he didn’t have an excuse. The pull on his heart to be near her was more than he could understand.

  In the weeks after they met, vulgar conversations whispered about Evelyn plagued his ears. Nothing suggested she behaved in a manner to inspire these base comments and profane daydreams muttered cowardly from one lowlife to another. Jackson’s blood boiled the first time he overheard something spoken. It was easy to imagine the horror coloring Evelyn’s cheeks if she heard what these creeps were saying.

  The second day it happened, it was officers serving under him who made the comments. He silenced them with a stern look and proceeded to work them over ruthlessly during their next shifts, just to make sure they understood. With a few of the other comments he heard, he forced patience on himself and used terse words to end the chatter.

  His patience wore down. This needed to end.

  “You think she’s been with a man before?” Jackson’s eyes jumped to Evelyn. A man at the table in front of him nudged the guy to his right but his eyes remained locked on her as well.

  “How should I know?” Safe answer. Smart.

  “Look at her.”

  Jackson watched Evelyn as she busied herself putting books away again. He couldn’t recall ever seeing any of the other employees doing the heavy lifting she did. Her arms stretched up as she stood on tip-toe to slip a book into place. Her body was a perfect hourglass.

  “I’ll bet I could get her into bed.” Jackson’s knuckles went white. He needed to punch something. “The good girls are always the best.”

  He waited for Evelyn to walk down a row of books and out of sight before making his move. The cad’s eyes grew two sizes when he saw it was Jackson who had him by the collar. Good. He knew who he was, and he was smart enough not to make a scene.

  “You should’ve thought twice before talking about her like that.” The air left the man’s lungs with a whoosh. Jackson had to shake the aggression out of his fists once he had him pinned against the wall. He’d always had a temper that tended to get away from him. This time he thought it served a better purpose than just venting his anger, as the man looked like a scared kid now that Jackson had him cornered. Still, scared wasn’t enough. He needed to be taught a lesson.

  “I didn’t know she was with you,” the now repentant cad choked out.

  “Now, what makes you think she’s with me?” Jackson growled.

  “I…you…” Too much stammering. Jackson threw his forearm into the kid’s stomach, releasing his vice grip, and let him collapse like a sack of flour on the floor.

  “I don’t need to be with a woman to keep men from degrading her like you were.” He shouldn’t leave him on the ground. He rolled his shoulders out before he picked him up by his collar again. “You won’t be speaking about ladies that way anymore. Am I understood?”

  He nodded and hurried away as soon as Jackson gestured for him to do so. Jackson took a stroll around the library before returning to his seat. Evelyn was oblivious to the event, talking to an animated woman wearing bright pink high heels. He smiled and returned to his seat. The kid and his buddy were nowhere to be seen.

  The library was silenced from such comments after that.

  Chapter 1

  FALL SEMESTER 2162

  Evelyn sighed as she gripped the railing along the stairs leading up to her apartment. A day of lectures and debates left her in desperate need of a quiet night at home. Oh, and a bubble bath sounded delightful.

  Her key turned too easily in the door, alerting her that the door had already been unlocked. They only left it unlocked when someone had company. Evelyn’s spirits went through the floor as the chatter of a room full of people greeted her when she turned the doorknob and opened the door.

  Sarah had friends over. Splendid.

  Tall, voluptuous, with silky almost-black-hair, Sarah exuded sensuality. She’d been roommates with Evelyn and Bekah for about six months. She was gorgeous, and well aware of it.

  Her friends were of the same mold; a pretentious and uncaring mix of people, most of them men.

  Evelyn would be staying in her room.

  She much more preferred Bekah to Sarah. She kept that to herself of course; it wasn’t a kind thought. But she and Bekah had been roommates for the past three years and, like Bekah, her friends were a lot of fun. They were welcoming. Evelyn didn’t feel like an intruder in her own apartment with Bekah’s friends.

  It was rare for Evelyn to know any of Sarah’s friends. Those familiar to her, she only knew from a shared class and they never acknowledged her. Tonight, though, was different.

  How long had it been since she’d seen him? Three? Four years? Thomas Williamson. The only boy she’d known as a child, he was the son of the government official who ran the orphan programs, including the one she grew up in. He begrudgingly tagged along with his father every time her home had an inspection. Tom was a few years older and had never been exactly nice to her. The Madames of her home insisted she be cordial with him. She didn’t learn until later that it was because children who defended themselves against his cruelty managed to find themselves dismissed from the programs.

  With Tom in Patrols now, and his father still being a powerful man, perhaps it would still be wise to play at being nice to him.

  There were some advantages to her roommate having self-important friends; Evelyn was barely noticed when she walked in. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize her. Maybe he would leave her alone. She smiled shyly to the one girl who looked in her direction and started making her way to her room.

  “Evie?”

  It was too much to ask for. But it was something that he bothered to remember her name. Inhaling deeply, she turned to face him, bracing for whatever sport he intended to make of her. She was awkward, standing still, not saying anything; but she didn’t know what to say. Tom was relaxed, sitting on her couch next to Sarah.

  Sarah looked irritated that Tom’s attentions had strayed from her.

>   “I wondered if it was you when Sarah told me she had a roommate named Evelyn.” Tom looked her up and down boldly. “You aren’t the little girl I used to tease, are you? I’d say you’re all grown up now.”

  Embarrassment burned her cheeks.

  Sarah’s hand ran over Tom’s knee; an attempt to regain his attention. “Tom, leave her alone. You’re embarrassing the little girl.”

  She failed.

  “Get over here,” Tom ordered Evelyn, nudging Sarah over to make room for her. Evelyn had never seen anyone nudge Sarah to do anything, and she didn’t look happy about it.

  There was simply no way out of it now. With every eye on her, Evelyn did as Tom asked and joined them, sitting right between him and Sarah. Sarah’s annoyance was palpable. Tom’s pleasure was…curious.

  “Tell me,” he started, “how old are you now?”

  It was tricky sitting between Tom and Sarah, and talking with Tom. When Evelyn turned herself to talk to Tom directly, she had her back to Sarah, blocking her out of their conversation. If she kept her back against the couch, she ended up talking away from Tom, instead of to him. She hated the whole situation. “I’m twenty.”

  Tom laughed, a little too loudly. “She was nine years old when I met her! She was a scrawny little thing, too,” he told the others. “You know, you were never any fun to tease. You always took it so well. I don’t think I tried harder at anything than when I tried to rile you up. It made me so mad.” He was laughing again.

  “I assure you,” Sarah said, attempting to steal into the conversation, “she’s much easier to work up now.”

  Evelyn forced a smile and looked down at her restless hands, willing them to be still.

  “Come on.” Tom knocked Evelyn with his elbow. “Evie’s a rock! I bet I could still pull at her braids all day and she’d just sit there.” To her horror, he started tickling her, poking at her ribs! “Right, Evie? You’re still a little rock.” She gripped his hands to stop him and his bellowing laugh rang out. “Well, I guess I was right before; you’re not that little girl anymore. But I bet you’re a pretty fierce woman.”