The Condemned (Echoes from the Past Book 6)

by Shapiro, Irina

  Quinn could almost hear Gabe smile. “Go on and call him. I must get back to work. I’ll ring you once I get home and you can fill me in on all the details.”

  “Kiss my babies for me.”

  “Will do. I love you.”

  Quinn finished the call and stared at her mobile. She had to call Logan and tell him the news, but she was terrified of the news he might have to share. Or lack of news, in this case. She set aside the mobile and sat down in a wingchair by the window. Her head had begun to ache, and her uterus contracted with painful cramps. She pressed her hand to her lower belly. She’d had aches and pains for the past few weeks and her breasts felt tender to the touch, but her period still hadn’t arrived. Quinn sighed heavily. What if she was pregnant? There’d been several times when she and Gabe had foregone protection in the heat of the moment.

  Quinn stared miserably at the colorless winter sky outside her window. Did she want another baby? She loved Emma and Alex and loved being their mum, but in truth, she simply wasn’t ready to have another child. Not yet. She should have done the test, but she’d been too afraid to find out the truth. Quinn slid her hand into the waistband of her jeans and massaged her belly. It didn’t feel taut or tender, but the cramps that twisted her insides felt real enough. She pulled her hand out and touched her breasts. They were a bit swollen. “Please, God, no,” she whispered as she consulted the calendar on her phone. It’d been nearly three weeks since she stopped nursing. Her period should have come by now. She’d do the test as soon as she returned home, but by that time there might be no need for it. The cause of the delay would be obvious enough.

  Quinn dragged her mind away from her possible pregnancy and called Logan. It took him a while to answer, but he finally came on the line, sounding irritable and tired.

  “Quinn, how goes it?”

  “You first.”

  “Nothing’s changed. The longer Jude remains unconscious, the greater the possibility that he’s suffered permanent damage. I’m scared for him, Quinn.” The tremor in Logan’s voice betrayed that he was trying not to cry.

  “Try to stay positive.”

  “I’m trying, if only for Mum’s sake. She hasn’t left Jude’s side. It’s not looking good, Quinn.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “You can tell me about Jo. I need a bright spot in my life right now.”

  Quinn spent the next half hour telling Logan about her meeting with Jo. By the time they ended the call, Logan sounded a bit more cheerful and excited at the prospect of meeting his sister. Tomorrow he and Jo might even get to speak in person.

  Quinn glanced at her watch. Rhys would be waiting for her. She sent him a text and went downstairs to wait for him.

  Rhys wasn’t there when she arrived in the lobby, so she found a comfortable spot to sit down and decided to use the time to check her email. There were over fifty messages in her inbox, but only two caught her attention. There was one from Colin. It read: Quinn, the Winthrop Lab has reopened, and I had them run newly collected DNA samples twice, just to be sure. I think you’ll find the results surprising. Ring me. Quinn thought she could guess what he was referring to and would ring him as soon as she was able.

  The second email was from an acquaintance at the National Archives. Joanna Lang had helped Quinn on several occasions and often scanned the information and emailed it to save Quinn having to visit the Archives in person. Quinn was eager to take a look at the document, but would have to do it on her laptop, since it was awkward to scroll through pages of entries on her phone. Whatever information the document held, it could wait another few hours.

  “Anything interesting?” Rhys asked as he joined her.

  “I think so. Colin has some news regarding the DNA analysis, and Joanna Lang has emailed me the information I requested. I’ll fill you in later. So, where are we off to?”

  “I found a quaint little place I think you’ll like,” Rhys said. He seemed eager to get going.

  “Quinn, I’ve booked a flight home for tomorrow,” he said once they were in the car.

  “You’re leaving?” Quinn asked. Rhys’s news took her by surprise, but she supposed it was only natural that he’d want to return home.

  Rhys turned to her and smiled as one would at an adorable child. “Darling, you don’t need me anymore. You’ve found your sister, and you two have much to talk about. I need to return to London and would very much appreciate it if you’d give me a lift to the airport tomorrow after you visit with Jo. I’m needed back at the office. Apparently, more than two dozen actresses have applied for the part of Valentina Kalinina, and I, for one, can’t wait to audition them. According to Rhiannan, some of them are actually Russian.” This bit of news seemed to make Rhys very happy.

  “Have you ever noticed how everything sounds menacing when said with a Russian accent?” Rhys joked as he pulled out of the car park. “You can say something as simple as ‘Get in the car,’ and it sounds as if I’m taking you hostage.”

  “Is that why you can’t wait to get back? You want to be menaced by dozens of Russian women?”

  Rhys grinned. “That’s the thing with Russian women, you don’t know if they’ll take you home and feed you borsht or put you over their knee and spank you like a bad little boy.”

  “Please, don’t tell me which one you prefer. I don’t need that particular image in my already traumatized brain.”

  Rhys laughed and merged onto the Autobahn. He floored the gas pedal and the little car lurched into action. “I suddenly feel much lighter,” he said, turning to smile at Quinn. “And it feels good.”

  “I’m glad. I’ll miss you.”

  “No, you won’t,” Rhys replied wistfully. “You have what you need right here. By the way, have you asked her?”

  Quinn shook her head. “That’s not the kind of question you just blurt out, is it? Brett possessed the same gift and we are half-brother and sister. Jo and I are twins. She must have the gift. It’s only logical that Jo should.”

  “I would think so too,” Rhys agreed. “You must take it slow with her. She seems so fragile.”

  “Rhys, how can it be that she has no one to turn to at a time like this? I know there’s been a rift with her siblings, but surely, there must be someone in her life she feels close to.”

  “Well, these are the things you’ll have to ask her,” Rhys replied.

  “What about you? Are you through asking questions?” Quinn asked. Rhys seemed to have removed himself from the equation.

  “I’ve done my part. I have a job to return to, and it’s time I picked up the pieces of my life. Hayley is gone. The baby is gone. I have to move on.”

  “Rhys, I’ll never forget what you did for me,” Quinn said. “And for Jo.”

  “I did it for myself as well. I needed something to lift me out of my misery. Kabul was the ideal place to remind me just how blessed I am and how much I have to be thankful for. I know what I want now, and I will have it. I’ve still got a few good years left in me.”

  “Rhys, no one deserves to be happy more than you.”

  “No one deserves anything,” Rhys replied. “Life owes us nothing. It’s all about what we make of the opportunities we’re presented with. I’ve wasted several excellent chances, but I’m older and smarter now. I intend to make the next relationship count.”

  “I know you will.”

  “I’ll leave you the car,” Rhys said, turning to practical matters. “You’ll need it to visit Jo.”

  “Thank you,” Quinn said as she covered Rhys’s hand with her own. “For everything.”

  “Anytime you need a knight in shining armor and Gabe’s busy changing nappies, I’m your man,” Rhys joked. “Now, let’s order. I’m famished.”

  Chapter 59

  March 1621

  Virginia Colony

  The days passed slowly, filled with inactivity and frustration. The fever had taken a toll on Mary and her recovery was slow. The simplest tasks left her tired and dizzy, and she needed
to lie down for an hour in the afternoons just so she could remain awake till suppertime. Travesty was surprisingly sympathetic, encouraging Mary to rest and offering her little snacks between meals. From time to time, Mary saw a softness in Travesty’s eyes that had never been there before. It was as if she were in another world, another time, and she likely was, recalling the life she’d had before it had been snatched from her.

  “You should sit outside for a bit,” Travesty advised. “You need fresh air. Go on with you.”

  Mary obediently put on her cloak and went to sit on the bench. Travesty was right, it felt good to be outdoors. The fresh air was brisk and invigorating and dispelled some of Mary’s lethargy. By the second week, she began to take short walks to regain her strength. First, she walked around the yard, but after a few days she ventured toward the forest. It was during one of those walks that she noticed a stealthy movement beyond a scrim of trees and pushed herself to walk further. Walker materialized from behind a thick tree trunk and took her in his arms.

  “I’m so glad to see you up and about,” he said, taking her face in his hands and kissing her gently.

  Mary didn’t bother to ask how Walker had known she was on the mend. He was like a shadow, a restless spirit that moved unnoticed through the trees. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d come to the plantation to check on her. He had a way of melting into his surroundings and standing so still that not even the sound of his breath gave him away.

  “Are you ready to come away with me?” Walker asked, studying her.

  “I need a few more days,” Mary replied. “I don’t think I can walk through the woods for hours just yet, especially not in these shoes.” Having lost her shoe in the creek, Mary had to wear homemade shoes that Simon had fashioned for her. They looked like canoes, the left and right shoe identical, pointy and narrow. The soles were too thin to walk over pinecones and twigs, since Mary could feel every pebble and acorn through the leather.

  Walker smiled. “Don’t worry, Mary, you will have no need of your shoes or your cumbersome clothing. The village women have made you clothes and shoes. You will be comfortable and warm. I will bring everything with me to the shack, where you will be able to change before we leave.”

  Mary was sure she’d be comfortable, but she had doubts about being warm. Walker didn’t seem to feel the cold. He wore no woolens or even a cloak, and his feet were bare inside his soft moccasins. The natives didn’t wear hose or petticoats to keep out the chill wind, and Walker’s head was always bare.

  “I will keep you warm,” he assured her with a smile that did indeed warm her insides.

  “When do we go north?” Now that she’d made up her mind, she couldn’t wait to leave. The trek to Walker’s people no longer seemed frightening, but an adventure they would undertake together. She was ready to embrace her new life, as long as he remained by her side.

  “You need to be able to keep pace,” Walker replied. “In case your people mount a search for you. Let’s wait for the new moon. You will be stronger then, and the snows will have begun to melt. I will come for you.”

  “All right,” Mary agreed.

  “Stay at the plantation,” Walker warned.

  “Why?”

  “There’s been some unrest.”

  “Between the colonists and the natives?” Mary asked, suddenly frightened.

  “No, between the colonists.”

  Mary hadn’t heard anything, but then she hadn’t left the cabin in nearly three weeks, grateful to be excused from church services on account of her illness. She wished she could ask John, but how would she explain having come by the information? And John, in his usual taciturn fashion, hadn’t mentioned anything. Perhaps Travesty would be a better source. Mary spent a few more minutes with Walker, then turned for home. She couldn’t allow Travesty to grow suspicious. She returned to the cabin and lay down, tired out by the walk.

  “Here, have a cup of warm milk,” Travesty suggested. “It’s good for the baby.”

  “Thank you. I hope I can come with you to church on Sunday,” Mary said as she sipped the milk. “I miss seeing my friends.”

  “I suppose you’d better. It isn’t safe for you here alone.”

  “Why?”

  Travesty continued working the crank of the churn, her mouth set in a grim line. “There have been a number of thefts. Marshal Craddock is beside himself, since he has no idea who’s responsible.”

  “What has been stolen?” Mary asked. Was this the unrest Walker had been referring to?

  “Food stores, mostly. Not like there’s much else to steal in this Godforsaken colony. I reckon some were not well prepared for the winter, and they’ve run out of supplies. ’Tis hard for unmarried men to see to their crops and take the time to stock up on provisions. Bags of grain, corn, and dried peas have been taken.”

  “Has anyone been hurt?” Mary asked.

  “Not that I know of. They’re stealthy, these blackguards, and quick. Marshal Craddock reckons ’tis not the work of a single man. They must work in gangs.”

  “Desperate men will do desperate things,” Mary replied. “Has anything been taken from us?”

  “No, but there are two men here, which increases the odds of the thieves getting apprehended or shot. Don’t worry, we have enough food to last us till the spring.”

  Mary nodded and closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. Travesty’s voice washed over her as she drifted to sleep.

  Chapter 60

  As the day of Mary’s departure drew closer, she was torn between breathless excitement and unbearable anxiety. She dreamed of the day she’d walk out of the cabin for the last time and begin her new life with Walker. Strangely, a small part of that life had already begun. John had not slept with her since her illness, making himself a pallet on the floor instead. He insisted that he sleep apart so as not to disturb her during her convalescence, but in truth, she knew he was as repelled by her as she was by him, and now that she was carrying what he presumed to be his child, he no longer felt the need to bother with the pretense of being a true husband. He was still solicitous when the situation called for it, but he was, if such a thing were possible, even more distant and aloof, while Simon was watchful and preoccupied.

  Mary didn’t know what Simon was up to, but something in his demeanor had changed over the past few months. Travesty carried on as if everything was just the same, going about her chores and biding her time until her indenture contract expired. She still had years to go until she could even begin to make plans for the future, but it was the dream of something better that kept her going.

  “I won’t always be a slave,” Travesty told Mary hotly one morning while grinding corn with surprising aggression. “There are some as would be happy to have me, if I were free.”

  Mary had no doubt. Travesty was an attractive woman and still of childbearing years, but only just. Mary could understand her frustration at being held captive as what was left of her youth slipped away. “I will have a home of my own,” Travesty said through gritted teeth. “I will be my own mistress.”

  “I’ve no doubt you will,” Mary assured her, wondering what had brought on this bout of anger. Travesty slammed the pestle on the table and stormed out of the cabin, presumably to go to the privy. Mary picked up the pestle and continued grinding the corn.

  Only a few more days, she thought happily as she wielded the tool. A few more interminable days.

  The time would go by faster if there were something for her to do to prepare for her journey north, but Mary had no belongings to pack, and nothing but mundane chores to occupy her time and mind; however, there was one thing she meant to do before leaving—she had to see Nell. She couldn’t share her plans with her friend, but Nell had been a true friend, and she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

  Mary set down the pestle and wiped her hands on her apron. It was a beautiful day for the beginning of March. The sun was bright and gentle as it shone from a cloudless blue sky. The air smelled of loamy earth and wo
od smoke, and birds sang happily, heralding the coming of spring. It was the perfect day to take a walk, and Mary was in sore need of friendly company. She donned her cloak and tied it at her throat, adjusted her cap, and prepared to leave. She wished she had something to bring Nell, but stores were running low and she didn’t dare take something without asking John’s permission. He and Simon were in the field, fixing a broken fence post, and she had no desire to seek him out.

  “I’m going to see Nell,” Mary called out to Travesty, who’d emerged from the privy, looking ill.

  “Fine,” Travesty barked and made for the house. Must be her time of the month, Mary thought as she walked out of the yard. Travesty was always more irritable while she bled.

  Mary strolled along, enjoying the pleasant day. For the first time in weeks she was at peace. Her belly had grown round and firm over the past month, and she’d finally felt the baby move only a few days ago. It had been a strange feeling, and she’d almost dismissed it, thinking it might be wind in her belly, but then it had happened again and again, and she’d finally recognized it for what it was—life.

  She had a feeling the child would be a boy. She had nothing to support this supposition, but she embraced it. It would be nice to have a strong son who’d grow up to be as fierce and smart as his father. Of course, at first, he’d be a sweet baby. Mary tried not to dwell too much on the things Walker had told her, like how the mothers in the village strapped their babies to a wooden cradleboard. It seemed a strange thing to do, but Walker assured her the babies were quite comfortable and warm. She’d have to get used to the strange ways of his people, but the prospect no longer frightened her. Having seen her own people through Walker’s eyes had been an illuminating experience.

  Mary smiled broadly when she saw Nell’s rounded form waddling into the yard, a basket on her hip. Nell set down the basket, put her hands on her lower back and stretched, then began to hang the newly washed garments on the line. She spotted Mary and waved, her round face breaking into a joyful grin. Mary quickened her steps and was with Nell in a matter of minutes, embracing her friend as their bellies pushed against each other, making them laugh.