Letters in the Grove

by Felicia Rogers

  “You, miss. I see you are distraught. Never fear, I have just the thing for you. For only a small amount of funds this product will take away all your troubles.”

  Teresa ignored the lie, turned, and stumbled toward the open gate. Sheep dotted the craggy landscape. Tall grass waved in the breeze. Just over the first rise was Bryce and Lucy’s homestead. Maybe she could go there.

  The trail narrowed in spots but Teresa was able to stay on it easily enough. Following the beaten path, she crested the rise. Smoke billowed from an opening in the roof. Lucy was outside turning a spit over a fire. When she saw Teresa she motioned her forward. Weary and burdened, Teresa sat across from her.

  “I see you are upset. I take it Gustav finally realized you are with child.”

  “Aye,” Teresa said, peering in the direction of the estate walls.

  “Why didn’t you tell him? What made you wait?”

  Teresa laughed under her breath. “Quite simply, I feared he would leave me.”

  “Why would he do that?” Lucy asked, her brow arched.

  “Because he has in the past,” Teresa answered, and lowered her head.

  “Oh.” Lucy gnawed her lip. Still rotating the spit, she said, “I don’t know if this will help, but when I first met Bryce I was the one who wouldn’t stay with him. He was a wonderful man but I kept running away. First, I didn’t want to place him and his family in danger. Then I touted my responsibility to others as my excuse. In truth, I didn’t think I deserved to be happy. It took me a long time to accept his love, but I’ve never been upset that I did.”

  “It’s just—“

  “The past is the past. I see how he takes care of you. How he looks at you. He loves you. He wants to be your husband. He has left everything special to him, everything he strived to build, and traveled here to keep you safe.” Lucy turned the fish, peering from under half-closed lids, she asked, “They are after you and not him, right?”

  “Aye,” said Teresa, unable to connect with Lucy’s gaze.

  “Then the fact is he could have stopped at any point and stayed where he was. He could have had a friend bring you here to keep you safe. He could have stayed behind in London and worked for Jean, but instead he continued on. With you.”

  “I know,” said Teresa, playing with the folds in her gown.

  “If you know all this then you should give him a chance to prove his love. Tell him the truth about your fears. Let him know everything that is in your heart.”

  Lucy was right. Gustav did deserve a chance. She jumped from her seat, thanked her friend, and skipped back along the path. A string of wildflowers rose up around the edge of the field and Teresa sighed. The initial enthusiasm at telling Gustav her fears wore off as she worried about his reaction. To give herself time, she took a detour and bent over the flowers. An orange light from the end of the path caught the edge of her vision. The trail led to a quick flowing stream. On several occasions she had gone down by the water and just watched. The speed at which the water rushed over the rocks and morphed their jagged edges into something smooth never ceased to amaze her. Not only did the water fascinate her, but there was something else as well.

  The water ran in not one but two steady streams, separated in the middle by a tiny island. On the island was a lone tree. Bryce explained the tree had been there for as long as he could remember. Season after season the branches remained bare. Every year he expected to come to the water and see the tree gone, either from bugs devouring the insides or from a strong wind taking it down, yet each year it stood strong.

  She felt the lone tree was a kindred spirit. How often had she felt alone, tossed by the winds about her, yet still unable to fall? Did the tree want to die? Did it wish for a strong wind to rip its roots from the ground? Did it secretly desire creatures to take it apart from the inside? Or did it stand alone on the island exactly as it wanted to be, waiting for the day it would blossom and produce fruit?

  Teresa drew closer to the water’s edge. The orange glow grew. Breathlessly, she blinked. The tree, that had stood alone for so long the local inhabitants had forgotten when it sprouted, had arrows sticking from its truck and was engulfed in flames.

  Her jaw dropped and she fell to her knees. Pain radiated along the back of her head and the world went black.

  ****

  Gustav paced.

  “Stop. Ye are making me dizzy,” said Bryce.

  “Where could she be? Lucy said she left your hut hours ago.”

  “Maybe something distracted her,” said Bryce.

  Gustav was unconvinced. The trail between the two homes had been checked several times. Depressed grass highlighted a deviation, as if someone had exited the beaten path, followed it to the edge of the wood, and then it stopped as if it had never existed. Worry increased the beat of his heart. Where was his wife?

  Thoughts of what Lucy had revealed ran through his mind. Teresa was definitely expecting and she had been afraid to tell him the truth because he might leave her again.

  Raking his hand through his hair, Gustav spun in a circle. The sun had dipped behind the mountains and a heavy mist lingered along the ground. Time was running out. Already Bryce had returned to his hut. Getting caught out in the forest at night was something no Cameron would do. Reported stories of ghosts and other supernatural creatures were told to Cameron children. Healthy fear of the woods kept them from going in and perhaps never coming out.

  Ignoring reason, Gustav stayed behind and studied the place where they had lost Teresa’s trail. Bent over, he noted wavy lines on the ground. The lines led him deeper into the woods, the trees closing in around him and blocking light. Fingers to the ground, he touched the ridges. A little farther in there was a broken branch lying across the path. Past the broken branch were multiple footprints.

  Perhaps he should turn around and tell Bryce what he’d found. Obviously the person or persons who had taken Teresa had covered their tracks, but only until they thought they were safe from discovery. Then they had forgotten and went about their business.

  If he did turn around and tell Bryce what he knew then he would be giving the assailant more time to escape with Teresa. So he made a choice to stick to the path and prayed it was the right decision.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Teresa tugged against her kidnapper numerous times, but Victor held tight. This time he seemed determined to have his victory. Teresa couldn’t blame him. They had thwarted his plans more times than she could count.

  Victor covered their tracks as he led her away from the side of the stream and farther into the wooded landscape. Gustav would look for her, but since darkness pervaded the land, he would probably be alone. Enough stories of the forest creatures had been shared until she knew there would be no help from the local clansmen. Perhaps this is what Victor had hoped for.

  Teresa squealed as Victor clutched a handful of her hair and jerked.

  “I’ve had enough of your games. You will tell me how to decipher the messages and then you will pray I am in a gracious mood.”

  Her feet created furrows along the ground as he continued to pull her by the hair. Every strand felt as if it was ripping loose from her scalp.

  Deep in the woods, he stopped. Several rough men straddled horses and studied her. Berend shifted astride his mount, a frown drawing his brows together.

  “I got her, boys. Now we just need to ride to town and let Herr Raeder speak with her.”

  “But what if she doesn’t have the code?” asked Berend. He shot her a pointed look. Did she imagine a request for forgiveness?

  “Oh, she has the code. Whether on her person or in her head, she has exactly what we want.”

  Berend glanced away and Teresa studied the ground. Shuffling sounds followed. Gentle hands lifted her onto the mount in front of Victor and she tried not to fight. If anything happened to the babe she would never forgive herself.

  Victor wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him. “Thank you, Berend.” In her ear he
whispered a warning, “Just try to escape.”

  Teresa swallowed and sat ramrod straight. Her back ached and her throat burned with restrained tears before they reached the nearest town. It consisted of a few ramshackle buildings and even fewer people, who staggered along the street like they were inebriated. The group of riders slowed to a stop. Victor handed her down to a waiting Berend. Teresa tried to implore him with her gaze but he looked away.

  Victor dismounted and ushered her inside a cottage. Dark and filled with rank odors, the house made Teresa hold her nose and squint. The sound of clapping made her jump.

  “At last you join us, Frau Braun. Next time you must not run quite so far.”

  A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed, and said, “Herr Raeder, what a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Aye, a pleasure indeed.” Rudolf Raeder hunched over in his approach, the height of the ceiling impeding his tall stature. “Since there is little time to waste I will get right to the matter at hand. You know what I seek, so give it to me.”

  Teresa stared blankly at the wall and clamped her mouth closed.

  The impact of the slap flung her head backward. Tears pooled in her eyes. Holding her head erect, she narrowed her eyes in his direction. Her hand rose to her burning cheek.

  “Do not think I will wait a moment longer. I have traveled across countries to retrieve this information. I will have the code to the messages.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t have it.”

  The wood in the walls rattled as Rudolf roared in displeasure. His balled fist connected with her face and Teresa flew backward, landing in a heap against the wall.

  “I tire of excuses. You will give me the code, or I will extract it from your flesh!”

  Teresa shivered as blood poured from a cut in her lip. “I–I meant I don’t have it on me. It is at the Cameron keep.”

  Herr Raeder wiped his hands on a cloth. “That is better. You will explain to Victor exactly where to find it and he will retrieve it.”

  “Nay. That is impossible. The hiding place is too complex. There is no way I could explain how to find it.”

  “Then you will go back with him and wait outside the gates. If he is unable to locate it, then he will wipe out every one inside.”

  Teresa kept silent. Fear settled in her gut. Why had she lied about the location of the code? What was she going to do now?

  ****

  Hoofprints led him to a nearby town. At the end of the street Victor leaned against a post. He flipped a dagger end over end, each time catching it by the handle, in a perfect rhythm.

  Muffled cries came from inside. Gustav moved behind another building and waited. Teresa was dragged out by a stranger. Her skin was pale. A bright red spot swelled on her cheek and a rivulet of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

  Victor climbed onto his mount and Teresa was lifted up to settle before him. They set out with several others following close behind.

  Cursing his timing, Gustav found a horse close by. When no owner seemed present he climbed astride, kicked its flank, and rode out. It was a challenge not to lose the group and yet stay far enough back to keep from being seen.

  When they rode through the woods and the Cameron keep came into view, Gustav’s worry increased. What had Teresa done? Why were Rudolf’s minions riding onto Cameron lands?

  Gustav urged the horse around the walls until he reached another entrance. Once inside the keep walls, he raced to his room. His heart hammered against his chest, and he struggled to breathe, as he waited for his vision to adjust to the dimly lit room. He needed to anticipate Teresa’s plan. Had she told them they could find a message in the room? Had she said they could find the code? Taking a guess that Victor was searching for the code, he quickly unfurled a rolled parchment and laid it on the table. With precise strokes he worked. Sweat beaded his brow. Time was of the essence.

  Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Gustav rolled the parchment and shoved it in a half-closed drawer before falling to his belly and sliding beneath the bed. He whispered a prayer that his assumptions were correct.

  Polished boots stomped against the floor. Gustav held his breath as Victor ripped the parchment from the dresser and unrolled it. If God smiled on Gustav’s plan, perhaps the ink had not smeared in his haste.

  A satisfied grin dwarfed Victor’s face as he rolled the parchment and stuck it inside his coat before spinning on his heel and stalking from the room.

  Gustav slid out from underneath the bed and followed a few steps behind. The front yard teemed with marketers. Standing on the steps of the keep, Gustav tried to locate Victor but it was of little use. The man had disappeared.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Ropes bound her to a tree. Her shoulders burned and her wrists were raw.

  Victor had left her alone. The tiny island that sat in the middle of the stream, with the one special tree, was her only view. The branches of the tree were blackened from the previous fire.

  At any moment Berend should rescue her, or maybe Gustav would ride in on a horse and whisk her away. But the longer she waited the more bereaved she became. No one was coming. She was alone.

  Closing her eyes, Teresa prayed. For years she had waited for help from people and they always failed her. Words from the Good Book came to her: I will never leave you nor forsake you.

  The sound of rustling leaves alerted her. Opening her eyes, she spotted Victor. In his hand he held a rolled parchment. Teresa fought the surprise that threatened to cover her face.

  Sending him to the keep had been a ruse to buy time, nothing more. There had been no secret decoder hidden in her room. At least not the one he sought.

  The slap sent her head into the tree and she winced.

  “What kind of code is this?” Pain wafted through her skull and stars swam before her eyes. He pinched her cheeks. “There is nothing but symbols and pictures. Tell me what it says. What did you plan to do with it?”

  Her words slurred, she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Victor’s roar echoed. He squeezed her face tighter. “I tire of your games. Herr Raeder wants the information from you and that is what he is going to have. Either you can tell me or I can make you tell me.”

  Teresa shuddered in his grasp. He dropped her chin and moved around behind her. The ropes loosened and she was able to move her arms to the front of her body.

  Victor grabbed her hands and dragged her until they reached the rolling water. He guided them onto a ledge of wet rocks. The ledge hung over the swiftest section of the stream. With uncommon strength, he placed one hand around her throat and lifted her above the water. At first she kicked and flailed, but with each movement his arm quivered. Being as still as possible she tried to speak past the restriction of her throat.

  “I–I’ll tell y-you…”

  Bringing her back to the rock, he sat her down. On her knees, she bent forward and fought the urge to retch. She placed a hand to her sore throat and stared at him from veiled eyes.

  “Now is your chance. You will tell me what you know and I might be inclined to let you live.”

  Her voice sounded odd to her ears. Pain in her throat made speech difficult but yet she said, “The messages I coded were false, to throw you and Herr Raeder off the trail. You’ve been fleeced.” She lifted her eyes and a slow grin spread across her face. Being able to admit part of her role in the passing of the missives was a freeing feeling. The code had been so simple even a child should have been able to decipher it. The fact that Herr Raeder and his minions had been unable to do so brought her immense pleasure.

  Victor frowned. He rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. Moisture gathered on his forehead. He bent and studied her eyes. “I want to know everything. If you have been sending fake messages then why do you run? Why do you not give up and tell Herr Raeder the truth? What was the ruse about in the English court? You were not afraid. I want to know why.”

  Sweat drenched hair hung beside her face. Pushing
one strand behind her ear, Teresa cleared her throat and prepared to explain. “The women, a-at the celebration, they were to show you that just because you thought it was me in the grove passing important messages didn’t mean it was.” And that just because he thought there was one code didn’t mean there weren’t others.

  Victor drew his brows together.

  “My employer hired me to pass the fake messages because I was already passing messages. My husband, he has lived away for many years, he and I sent messages to each other through the grove. Before we married he lived in the worst part of town and I couldn’t see him often. We had an arrangement. I would place my letter in the grove and he would have a friend retrieve it. Then he would place a letter and I would retrieve it.” She forced the quiver from her voice and continued, “When he went away it was just a way to keep a part of our initial relationship. It was a part we grew to love. Sending love letters to one another was something we didn’t want to end. So we kept using the grove. A messenger would pick up my letters and leave his letters behind.”

  “B–but what about the code?”

  Teresa smiled. “Which one?”

  He whispered, “Which one?”

  “Yes. Gustav and I had a code so our parents could never read what we were saying. It was a way to keep the letters special to us.” She shrugged, the action causing pain to spread across her shoulders. “We continued the code out of memory more than necessity.” The embellishment didn’t make her feel bad at all. If he didn’t know of Gustav’s former position then she wouldn’t be the one to tell him.

  “What of the other code?”

  She sighed. “I made up another very simplistic code to pass through the grove for my employer.”

  “Simplistic?” Victor stood and lifted his chin. He rubbed his hand over his face as his chuckle rent the air. Shaking his head, he took a step back. The slick rock dipped. His hands flew into the air as he fell backward, landing in the icy water.