Saving Miss Everly

by Britton, Sally

  Lifting her skirts higher than anyone would ever think decent, she ran through the trees, her lungs burning from the inhaled smoke and her exertion.

  How could the Carlburys so selfishly put people at risk, consulting no one with their plan? Alejandro had explained everything to the group, time and again, about the possibility of rescue and the conservation of their resources. The superiority of the Carlburys had proved more destructive than stupidity.

  A crash in the brush ahead of Hope almost made her pause, but Alejandro had promised her there was nothing on the island larger than she. It had to be someone—

  Alejandro himself appeared, pushing around a tree, without a shirt once more. Had he removed it for fishing? She did not have time to wonder, or to blush.

  “Fire,” she said, pointing in the direction she had come from, up the northern rise of the island. “Albert built a fire.” Alejandro’s hands came upon her shoulders, steadying her as he stared into her eyes.

  “Is it under control?” he asked. “I smelt it—then I saw—”

  “He says it is safe, but I did not feel it so.” Hope took hold of his wrists. “He will not put it out. You will need help.”

  His expression darkened, eyebrows drawing down and the line of his jaw tightening. “No. I will not.” Then he started up the hill, and she followed. He knew the island better than she ever wished to and soon had them on a path less painful for her to follow. He did not wait for her, but ran ahead. Hope kept going, her skirts snagging on every branch that reached for her.

  She was going up the rise, hands before her to grab onto branches, when she heard the screams.

  * * *

  Before Alejandro made it to the top of the rise, his heart sunk. The smoke rose into the sky, but he saw fire burning in the branches before him. How fast it would spread, he could not tell. All he knew was that he must save a man and his sister from their own arrogant mistake. He shoved himself up the hillside faster, sweat already running down his back when he passed beneath the first tree with a branch ablaze.

  “Carlbury!” He shouted the man’s name through the sound of fire crackling and branches snapping ahead of him.

  “Here!” the shout came back. Alejandro turned and stepped toward the sound as Miss Everly came to his side. She gasped, then started coughing.

  “Go back,” Alejandro yelled, taking her shoulders in a firm group. “Go back, mi hermosa. Tell everyone—gather our food and supplies. Take it to the beach. The fire may spread.”

  She covered one of his hands with hers, meeting his gaze squarely, her eyes unafraid. “What about you?”

  “I will meet you at the place I found you,” he promised. “Go.” Then he released her and took a step back.

  “Alejandro,” she shouted, her voice cracking. The depths of her blue eyes conveyed an emotion for him she had not named. Not yet. And not in that moment. But she lunged forward as fierce as a lioness and pressed her lips to his. Alejandro returned the kiss, unable to savor the moment as he would wish. But at least he had the answer to one question about this unexpectedly wonderful woman—the second kiss was better than the first.

  She broke away, turning at the same time, and fled without looking back. She would do as he asked and left her kiss as a talisman of protection. He touched the other token he wore, his mother’s ring, before charging further into the now smoke-filled trees.

  After calling again, he found his way to a soot-streaked Carlbury. He stumbled about, frantic, his eyes streaming. He pointed through the trees, upward. “Irene—I cannot reach her. She is on the other side. The rocks.”

  The picture clearly formed in Alejandro’s mind. “You built the fire on the flat land near the cliffs. She fled that way and fell.”

  “Yes.” Albert grabbed Alejandro’s shoulder, nearly his neck. “We must go. We must save her. My sister.” His voice broke.

  “You cannot help her,” Alejandro yelled, knocking Albert’s hand off of him. “Go to the beach. I will bring your sister to you.” Albert’s face transformed from frantic into a fierce snarl, but Alejandro shoved him down the mountain. “Do not make a second fatal mistake today, for it will cost your sister’s life.” Not waiting to see if the man did as instructed, Alejandro skirted the fire, heading east to where the slope cut off abruptly, creating a steep drop-off almost straight down into the sea below.

  Alejandro came to the rock’s edge and climbed over, then down. With luck, Irene had landed on a shelf of rock just beneath the cliff. He shuffled sideways along a ledge no wider than the palm of his hand, gripping the rock as tightly as he could. After a few yards, the ledge widened. When he looked up, white plumes of smoke wafted overhead. He cursed Carlbury for a hundred types of fool.

  A shriek interrupted his mental rant. “Help! Albert!”

  “Miss Carlbury.” Alejandro put as much force into his shout as possible, shuffling sideways until he rounded a rock onto the ledge. There she stood, back pressed against the stones, her face streaked with dirt and tears.

  She stared at him, shocked, and then a relieved sob burst out of her chest. “Help me. Please.”

  Alejandro took a steadying breath. “You must do exactly as I say.”

  21

  With baskets of provisions in their arms, everyone at the shelter followed Hope without question when she told them Alejandro said they must flee to the beach. It did not take long for the smell of smoke to reach them, or for their steps to turn to a run. They came out on the beach and everyone stopped, looking northward into the sky.

  “We are supposed to meet them further up the beach.” She pointed and they followed. Each moment that passed increased the tension in her muscles, the ache in her heart. The air grew heavier with the smell of burning greenery. The birds were shrieking, with high-pitched notes far different than their usual songs. Other animals fled to the sand, lizards scampering along the shore. The fire hadn’t spread everywhere, but there was more smoke than before.

  The sailors appeared, panting and demanding an explanation for the smoke.

  Then Albert emerged from the trees, throwing a fretful glance over his shoulder as he came. Hope ignored the frantic conversations taking place behind her and ran to Albert. “Where is Señor Córdoba? Where is Irene?”

  He stopped walking and stared at her. “It happened too quickly. The logs collapsed and rolled.”

  She dared grab one of his arms and gave it a hard shake. He lacked the muscle, the strength, she had felt in Alejandro. “Where are they, Albert?”

  He pulled away from her. “They will come.” Then he stomped down the sand to the water. She watched him, confusion and fear dancing in her heart. Albert walked directly into the water, up to his knees, then fell into them.

  Mrs. Morgan was praying, but everyone else had gone still and silent. Hope swung her eyes from Albert to Mrs. Morgan, whose words asking for safety and mercy somehow lifted over the waves without sounding like shouts. Then Hope watched the tree line, counting each second with care. How long did they wait before attempting a rescue? Before giving up on one?

  The smoke above the island whirled and drifted away, disappearing in an unseen wind, white and gray as clouds. But she could see the flames licking the tops of trees where they had come from.

  “How swiftly does fire move through woods?” Hope asked.

  “Depends.” Hope jumped when the professor answered her. He stood just behind her. “They move uphill faster than down. They eat up more when the wind is with them.” His eyes held fascination as he watched. “The wind is blowing against this one, taking the smoke away. It is at the top of a hill.”

  Hope shook her head, horrified at how calmly he explained the facts when two of their own were still missing. “We must go and save them,” she said, half-pleading.

  The professor’s gaze flicked briefly to hers before returning to his study. “I think not. The wind shifts. The fire changes direction. None of us know the island as Córdoba does. He will come, or we will do without him.”

&
nbsp; The very idea made her stomach turn and lurch, the scent of charring trees nearly choked her. “But—”

  “Look.” He pointed past her shoulder, and Hope did not hesitate to obey.

  Alejandro, arm around Irene’s waist, stumbled out of the trees and onto the beach. Hope shouted.

  “Alejandro. Irene.”

  The two of them stumbled closer, Irene limping. Silent tears streamed down her face. Her hair had turned gray from dirt and smoke. Before Hope took a step, Albert ran past her to his sister. Alejandro released Irene, allowing Albert to lift her up in an embrace. Alejandro kept walking, hardly a pause in his step, and his rich brown eyes gazed at Hope with an intensity that made her worried stomach untie itself long enough to turn a cheerful somersault.

  He practically marched to her. There was nothing gentle in his approach. It was precise. Measured. His handsome face, smeared with soot, was calm though he’d set his jaw.

  Hope instinctively opened her arms when he was only two steps away, ready to receive him.

  In the space of a single heartbeat, she went from standing on her own two feet to being held in his arms, lifted from the sand, pulled tightly against him. His bare chest was coated in dirt, she felt scratches where her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, and he smelled of smoke and sweat.

  Three things settled in Hope’s mind and heart, facts as clear to her as the knowledge that the sun must rise every day in the east. With Alejandro, she was safe. She was loved. She was home.

  “Miss Everly,” the doctor said, appearing at Hope’s side. He cleared his throat and Alejandro slowly, reluctantly, lowered her back to her feet and stepped away. The doctor cast Hope a look of disapproval before fixing his stern glare on Alejandro. “How bad is it, Córdoba?”

  “We cannot know until the fire burns itself out,” Alejandro stated, his voice rasping as though his throat pained him. “Was the food saved?”

  “Yes.” The doctor waved that question away impatiently. “But we may not be safe here.”

  “Safer than anywhere further inland.” Alejandro turned and looked up at the smoke.

  Doctor Morgan groaned and rubbed at his eyes. “This is a disaster greater than anything I could anticipate.”

  Hope stared incredulously at the doctor. Would he say nothing of Alejandro’s heroics? Of Albert’s stupidity?

  “None of this would have happened if Albert had listened to Señor Córdoba,” she said, her temper flaring dangerously. She had nearly lost a friend. Nearly lost the man she loved before even getting a chance to tell him how she felt, to even tell him her true name.

  “Grace.” Irene’s ragged voice brought attention to where she stood, leaning into her tall brother. “He was trying to help. At least he did something to get us off this—”

  “Help?” Hope interrupted, ire rising by the second. “He was told repeatedly why his idea was ludicrous and juvenile. But Albert Carlbury thinks he can do whatever he wants by virtue of his privilege, no matter that he is an imbecile. He nearly killed his own sister.”

  Albert Carlbury did not even have the decency to appear ashamed. Rather, he stared at Hope as though she had been the one to put their lives at risk.

  With a calming gesture, the doctor attempted to soothe her. “Miss Everly, this is hardly the time—”

  Scoffing, Hope stepped away from the gentle hand the doctor had put on her shoulder. “Have we more pressing matters to attend to, Doctor Morgan? For I am fairly certain that our food, our shelter, and all reasons to keep hands busy are currently in danger of going up in flames.” She pointed violently to the spreading fire.

  Mrs. Morgan appeared at her husband’s side. “Miss Everly, dear, you are over-excited.”

  “Hysterical,” muttered Albert.

  Alejandro’s fists clenched, and he turned his attention in that man’s direction. “The only person on this island to have given in to hysterics, sir, is your sister. Miss Everly has never once been less than courageous and practical.”

  Albert’s head snapped up, a sneer curled his lips, but before he voiced a word, Hope was snarling at him. “If you should dare to say a single word against the man who has kept us alive, I swear that if he does not trounce you, then I shall!”

  All eyes went to her, rounded in shock, and the only sound Hope heard was the crash of waves behind them.

  Releasing a soft whine, Irene sniffled. “Grace, this is unseemly.”

  That was the last drop needed to turn Hope’s well of fear, impatience, and irritation into a roiling stream of anger.

  “I am not Grace!” Her shout carried over the sand and, far away, she thought thunder rumbled in reply. She turned away from her friend, no longer caring about her secret, but needing to see Alejandro. Meeting his gaze, Hope stared up into his eyes and spoke the truth firmly. “I am Hope Everly, and I am tired of pretending to be someone I am not.”

  Alejandro’s black eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

  “You lied to us?” Irene cried out, her voice pitched at an uncomfortable octave to hear.

  Albert actually swore, and that was when Hope reluctantly tore her gaze from Alejandro’s perplexed stare to look at both Carlburys.

  “I am sorry for the lie,” she said, “but more that it was necessary than anything. I cannot regret everything that has happened. I wanted to travel, to come with you to the Caribbean, and that was only possible as Grace. Not as myself. Grace had no wish to come.”

  Irene’s fists were balled up tightly, and she glared at Hope as though she hated her. “Then we ought not have been burdened with either of you. You horrid, reckless, dishonest—”

  Her brother closed his hand around her arm and looked down his nose at Hope. “Enough. You waste your breath. I always knew you were irresponsible and brash, Miss Everly, but I never thought you to be such an unprincipled creature. It is reprehensible.”

  Hope gaped at him, though more than once she had worried over such accusations. She bit her tongue, something that Grace would likely recommend in the present circumstances. Oh, Grace.

  Mrs. Morgan had taken hold of her husband and looked from one angry person to another, her eyes wide. The doctor appeared perplexed. Mr. Thorne had wandered over at some point in the conversation, and he stared at Hope with a crooked sort of smile. Alejandro, standing at her back, had said nothing about her falsehoods. Not yet.

  Releasing her brother, Irene turned away and walked to the wet sand. Hope went to follow, guilt taking her two steps before Albert grabbed her arm roughly and pushed her back. He had never particularly liked Hope. Not since the day she told him, after less than a week’s acquaintance, she found him distasteful, arrogant, and pompous. He’d deserved every word of it after giving insult to a tenant child in the gardens. But Irene had never been quite like her brother. She had been sweet to both Grace and Hope.

  Albert proved his old grievance with her ability to deliver a scathing set-down with no more than the hardness in his eyes, but poisonous words escaped his lips, too. “Stay away from my sister, treacherous slattern.” There was a collective intake of breath.

  “See here—” That was the doctor, but his words cut off when Alejandro stepped between Hope and Albert, necessitating Albert release her.

  “Eres un maldito tonto, Carlbury,” Alejandro spat, the Spanish having the unmistakable sound of insult. “The only treacherous one here is you.” Alejandro pointed emphatically at the island behind them. “Our survival depends on everything that you set on fire.”

  Though his nostrils flared, Albert’s words were cool and calm. “They will see the smoke. We will be rescued.” Then he turned and marched away, head held as high as ever, to where his sister stood with her arms wrapped tightly about herself. As she stared at the two people on the island who knew her, knew her family, with their backs turned to her, Hope’s body chilled despite the sun beating down upon her.

  “Will—will the smoke be visible to those at sea?” Mrs. Morgan asked her husband quietly.

  It was
Alejandro who answered, his tone as angry as before. “We can barely see it, and we are on the island with it.” He swore in Spanish, the words flowing from his tongue with a searing heat that rivaled the fire itself. Hope kept her back to him, afraid of what it would feel like, of whether his eyes would be cold or angry, when he turned his attention back to her and her lies.

  Mr. Thorne surprised her by coming to stand on her other side, so he and Alejandro flanked her. “Miss Everly. Are you well?”

  She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “As well as any of us, Mr. Thorne.”

  He tucked his arms behind his back and nodded thoughtfully. “A wise answer. And you really are not who they thought you were—you are the sister left behind?” Wincing, prepared for another reprimand, she started to nod. The man barked a laugh, startling her. “I should have done the same, were I to have a twin.”

  Hope gave him her full attention, staring at him with open confusion. “You would?”

  “If the choice was adventure or sit at home.” His unabashed grin was so warm and kind that she nearly returned it.

  Mrs. Morgan did not possess his same level of humor or understanding. “You have been pretending to be someone you are not for a very long time.” She shook her head. “Though I confess, not knowing your sister, it is difficult to understand the lengths to which you went to deceive everyone.”

  “Why?”

  It was the first word Alejandro had uttered directly to her since the revelation, and it made guilt squirm within her stomach. She pulled in a breath, hoping to take a little courage with it, and turned to face him.

  “It seemed better to keep the lie alive. At first, I pretended to be Grace just to board the ship. I planned to tell Irene everything, and then her family. Turn it into a joke, perhaps. But Irene said things that made me realize she would not welcome Hope as she would Grace. So I stayed Grace a little longer. Then once we were here—” She broke off and shrugged, crossing one arm about herself. “It seemed unwise to say anything when circumstances were already less than ideal.”