Book Read Free

Natasha's Hope

Page 14

by Heather Greenis


  “My humble apologies, Hope,” Tom groaned.

  With her entire being she wished for the ability to accept his apology, tell him she understood, but she couldn’t speak. Intense burning silenced her. She could swear her arms were suspended over a raging fire. She clenched her eyes closed and put her hands on her stomach. Dear Father in heaven. Look after my baby. Look after both my babies.

  * * *

  “Damn it,” Stewart swore, furious with his own stupidity. It was his worst nightmare. Hope could have been hurt. Because of his own carelessness, they could have dropped her. Nothing was more important than his daughter’s health and safety. Greg and Adam were strong, capable men, looking after their sons. Stewart would never forgive himself if Hope was hurt. If only Tom or I could carry her down without the damn board.

  “I will not allow you to slip again,” Stewart promised. Tom nodded. “Slow and steady,” Stewart said over the bellowing of the wind. His arms, back, and legs ached with the stress of his daughter’s weight.

  “Where is the bloody ground?” His foot landed securely on a step.

  “Four more,” Izabella reminded him.

  Four. It might as well be four flights of stairs. Hope was getting heavier by the second. Izabella continued guiding his feet and ensuring he remained balanced. Vicki was equally valuable assisting Tom. Neither of the men could see their own feet. Stewart’s foot finally touched the floor of the cellar, then his other foot. He backed up, lowering the stretcher until Tom’s feet finally were on the ground. Standing on either side of the board, Izabella and Vicki released the loosened bandages and placed their hands under Hope’s back, raising her to a sitting position. Putting her weight against the women, she stood. Stewart fumbled with the wooden stretcher, his rubbery forearms lowering it to the ground without dropping it.

  “You’re both safe,” Stewart whispered, kissing the top of her head.

  The men assisted her to a seat by the wall. Izabella, Vicki, and Tessa joined her.

  “Stay with the women and children,” Stewart instructed Tom. “I’ll join Adam and Greg in their search for the boys.”

  * * *

  Her poppa walked up the staircase and stepped into the howling wind. The door slammed shut against the battering winds. Oil lamps illuminated the room. Tessa snuggled against her momma’s chest.

  “Oh my word,” Izabella groaned.

  Seeing Izabella’s gaze, Hope looked at her arms. Even with the dim lighting, the marks were scarlet red.

  “Sweet Mother of God,” Vicki moaned.

  “Do not speak of this to Tom,” Hope pleaded, keeping her voice lowered. “He is already filled with guilt. The cool air feels wonderful and soothing.”

  Izabella reached over and wiped the wet streaks from Hope’s cheeks, then kissed her forehead.

  “You must rest, Hope. The men will return any moment with the children.”

  Chapter Eight

  Stewart ran up the steps into the pounding rain. We got Hope out of this storm just in time. It took every ounce of his strength to fight the howling wind. The door slammed with a thud. He turned and ran in the direction of the pond, praying Adam and Greg would meet him with the boys.

  The horrendous rain pounded against his body, prickling his skin. He raised his hands, attempting to shield his face. Visibility was limited at best. Even knowing the property well, he struggled to keep any perspective of distance. As he worked his way toward the pond and trees, he picked out shadows in the distance, certain they were moving toward him. He identified the shadow as Greg’s solid frame. A child was on either side of him. Thank God! They have the boys. Straining his eyes, he recognized Matthew and Sammy’s faces. He looked beyond for Adam, Alex, and George. Not seeing them he assumed they must be close behind. He turned his attention to the boys with Greg. Matthew’s eyes were bloodshot, tears mixing with the rain.

  “Is Adam following behind with Alex and George?” he yelled.

  “Nay. Adam is still searching for the other boys. Matthew lost sight of Alex and George when it began to rain. George was holding Alex’s hand. I shall return to assist with the search once Matt and Sammy are in the storm cellar.”

  Stewart looked down at the young orphanage boy. Small for his age, Stewart feared Sammy would lack the ability to walk without assistance.

  “I’ll follow behind with Sammy.”

  “Nay, assist Adam with his search. We found Matt behind the pond.”

  * * *

  Izabella and Vicki were talking quietly when Hope heard something at the door. Not the wind, but muffled voices. Tom jumped up and dashed toward the door.

  “The men have returned with the children,” Vicki whispered.

  “Stand back,” Tom yelled to those outside.

  Tom placed his palms on the door and pushed with all his might. The door opened slightly and then slammed back down. Tom steadied his feet, looked over his head, and secured his hands on the door. Using all the strength in his legs and back he heaved on the door. The horizontal access swung open with such velocity, the door slammed onto the ground. Fighting to maintain his balance, he leaned forward, falling against the stone steps. His chin banged against the cement opening. Blood gushed from his abrasions but Tom regained his footing and wiped his blood-soaked palms on his trousers. He extended his hands to a child.

  God bless you, Tom. Seeing Matthew’s face, Hope breathed a sign of relief. Vicki whispered to Tessa and the girl squirmed from her momma’s lap and curled into Izabella’s arms. Tom placed Matt on the floor, and he ran to Vicki. Greg walked down a few steps with Sammy attached to his side. His arms remained snug around Greg’s neck, and his head buried in his chest. Tom reached for the child.

  “Sammy, it’s Tom, you’re safe. Let’s get you dried off.”

  Sammy turned his head, saw Tom, and extended his arms to his friend. Hope looked up to the opening, expecting to see Adam or her poppa with Alex or George. Instead, her uncle turned to run up the steps.

  “Greg,” Vicki called.

  “When I left, we hadn’t located Alex or George. I’m returning to assist Stewart and Adam.”

  He ran up the steps. The door thudded as it closed, shutting out the scream of the wind. Greg’s words echoed in Hope’s mind. Alex was lost. Terror tore through her. They had to find her baby boy. She turned and looked at Matthew. Shivering and teeth chattering, the water dripped from his body. Izabella whispered to little Tessa and went to retrieve some towels and blankets. Izabella stood holding a blanket, giving the young boy some privacy. With his clothes tossed into the corner, Vicki wrapped her son in a blanket. Returning to her place beside Hope, Matt snuggled into his momma.

  “You’ve been crying,” Vicki whispered. “Did Poppa chastise you?”

  “N-no. I c-called for Alex and G-George, Mom-ma,” Matthew whimpered, shivering. Vicki rubbed his arms to warm him. “They d-didn’t an-swer me.”

  Hope covered her face. She fought to regain her composure. Matthew was scared and upset. She needed to be strong for Matthew and for Tessa. She placed her finger on his tear-soaked cheek. “You must have faith, Matthew,” Hope encouraged. “The men will find Alex and George.”

  “George was holding Alex’s hand and suddenly they were gone.”

  “Uncle Adam spent his childhood playing on this property. Never fear, they will find Alex and George.”

  “I lost them. Poppa and….” He stopped himself and whimpered. “I shall be chastised.”

  “Nay,” Vicki argued. “You will not. You requested permission to go walking. I love you and your poppa loves you.”

  “The storm is awful, Momma. I held Poppa’s trousers, so he could carry Sammy. I saw the orphanage before Poppa and told him.”

  “We’re proud of you, Matthew. Close your eyes, my son. You’re exhausted and must rest.”

  After listening to Matt, Hope feared for her son’s life. She tilted her head toward the ceiling and closed her eyes.

  “Momma, I need you. Guide Poppa toward Alex. Do n
ot allow God to take my baby boy.”

  A hand touched her shoulder. Izabella sought to comfort her.

  “Your poppa speaks with your momma regularly,” she informed her, keeping her voice lowered. “I hear him speak her name when he’s dreaming. They’ll bring both Alex and George to safety.”

  * * *

  The screen disappeared. Keeghan turned and glared at Alexander.

  “You’re awful. I don’t like the way you end these things. You’re Adam and Hope’s son. You’re not a young child, but that doesn’t tell me you weren’t killed in this storm. Or whether you have a little brother or sister.”

  Alexander looked into the distance, smiled, and stood.

  “Who are you looking at? Who’s there?”

  Walking off, he vanished.

  Part Two

  Chapter Nine

  Present Day

  Refreshed after a good sleep, Keeghan told Will all about the dream during breakfast. Not prepared to spend another day in the library, he suggested a morning of sightseeing. She suggested the castle.

  As expected, the massive building was surrounded by a wrought iron fence with huge gates. They watched the changing of the guards and walked around the front of the structure. Recalling the details of the story as best possible, they followed the path of the river, walking in the direction of Stewart’s family home. Of course with the city built up with high rises, it was difficult to tell if they were close to the Donovan property. Leaving their rental car at the hotel, they took public transit to the university. Keeghan entered the building and requested more books from the librarian.

  “More archives? I assume you’re having some success,” the woman inquired.

  “Yes. More than we were expecting.”

  The librarian disappeared for a few minutes then returned. Their search continued. Within the hour, Keeghan noticed the picture of Victoria Elizabeth Donovan. Will found her husband.

  “That’s a bonus,” she admitted. “I didn’t know Greg went to Picton.”

  Even more enthusiastic to continue, there seemed no question they would find Hope and Adam.

  Keeghan’s eyes locked on an attractive woman with wavy blonde hair. Her face lit with excitement as she stared at the picture. Just as her dream had suggested, the resemblance to Natasha was amazing. She read the unnecessary confirmation.

  Hope Elizabeth Victoria Donovan – Psychology / Business. “Oh my gosh. I found their daughter,” Keeghan yelped in excitement. “I wish these pictures were in colour. Her eyes almost appear transparent.”

  William leaned over his wife and nodded, staring at the picture of Natasha and Stewart’s daughter.

  “This is amazing, Keegh. Your dream is coming to life in these archives.”

  “I want to see a picture of her husband. He graduated the same year.” She began flipping pages. Rushing, she scanned far too quickly and reached the end of the book. “Shit,” she whispered angrily.

  “A little impatient, are you,” Will teased.

  “Hush.”

  Reading every caption, she saw the name.

  Adam Alexander Venderkemp – Psychology. “I found him. I found him. I found Hope’s husband.”

  “You don’t sound excited,” William teased and then leaned over her shoulder to look.

  “It’s not that he isn’t attractive, but he certainly wasn’t the best looking guy at the school,” Keeghan admitted. “Just not what I expected. I wish he was smiling. Hope fell in love with his smile.”

  “There must have been a rule against smiling back then. I wonder who cracked the first one?”

  A chuckle escaped Keeghan’s lips. She covered her mouth, afraid of another lecture from the librarian. She could count the times on one hand when Will was not in a good mood. Her ‘happy-go-lucky’ husband couldn’t help but grin when he was in a good mood.

  “If you’d been around then, I don’t have a doubt in the world it would have been you.”

  Will smiled, nodding.

  “No wonder Adam was so shocked when Hope fell in love with him,” he commented.

  “Adam was an intelligent man,” Keeghan reminded him. “Obviously she was attracted to both his smile and his brain. And he must have been good in bed.”

  Will looked at his wife, inhaled and exhaled deeply to avoid commenting.

  “They had a healthy sex life,” she reminded him. “She had every reason to cut him off after her second miscarriage, but that didn’t happen. In my dream, Hope is pregnant for the fourth time.”

  Will shook his head and looked at his watch. “You need some fresh air. We’ve been looking through books almost three hours.”

  “I’m sorry,” the librarian interrupted, “but this section of the library is closing. You can come back tomorrow if you wish.”

  “Thank you,” Will acknowledged. “We’re packing up.”

  Will stacked the books and led Keeghan to the front desk. They both stopped and looked at the portrait of the young couple with the child, confident it was Stewart, Natasha, and their young daughter, Hope.

  “Who are these people? Why am I dreaming about their lives?”

  William put his arm around Keeghan’s shoulder.

  “We have to forget about it for the night. We accomplished a lot today. We put four more faces to names. Vicki, Greg and Adam and Hope.” William yawned. Keeghan rubbed her lower back and watched her husband as he did the same.

  “I’m not used to sitting so much,” she reminded him.

  “Neither am I. I wander around the office and sneak out for short walks,” Will reminded her.

  That night, Keeghan and Will snuggled, and then she fell asleep in his arms. Alexander was waiting under the same tree for them.

  “I will have your hide if you kill little Alex,” she warned. “I know you are Alex, but I’ll … I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  Alexander pointed at the screen.

  Chapter Ten

  Keeghan’s Dream

  Greg and the boys faded out of sight in a matter of seconds. Stewart continued toward the pond.

  “Adam! Alex, George!” he screamed. Please come into view. Stewart reached the bushes surrounding the pool. “Did I miss them? Did I pass Adam and the boys and not see them? Are they back at the orphanage?” His stomach churned. “I could be alone out here, searching for my family when they are safe. Ugh!” He took a deep breath. “Adam,” he yelled.

  He heard something. It was faint, but it was definitely a voice. He stopped and listened. Nothing. “Is my mind playing tricks on me? It’s possible. The howl of the wind could sound like a voice.” He closed his eyes. “A-dam,” he bellowed. He listened, focusing on Adam’s voice.

  “I’m north of the pond.” The voice was faint.

  “It is Adam. I know it is. He hasn’t returned to the orphanage with the boys.” Rushing toward the pond, the storm seemed to intensify, if that was possible. Barely able to see ten feet ahead, Stewart ran, straining his eyes to pick Adam’s silhouette out from the sheets of blowing rain. Getting closer, he walked the area, scanning. A ghostly image appeared. “Natasha? No, I’m not hallucinating.” The image approached. “Adam. It’s Adam. Thank God. But the boys aren’t with him. He wouldn’t leave them.” Dread consumed his being.

  “Where were Matt and Sammy?” Stewart yelled.

  “By the trees. I have searched and yelled. There’s no response. I was beginning to question whether I would hear them, but then I heard you.”

  Placing his hands over his eyebrows to shield his eyes from the howling wind and driving rain, Stewart surveyed the area.

  “A-lex! George!” Stewart screamed.

  Focusing, they listened for a response. Nothing. “Given this storm, I’m wondering whether we should separate to look for them, or stay together?”

  “It’s difficult to hear voices,” Adam responded. “I barely heard yours. I fear if we separate communication will be difficult. I don’t want the boys out here a moment longer than necessary while we locate each ot
her.”

  “I agree.” Stewart turned his head, looked toward the pond.

  “I am suddenly thankful I insisted on a tall fence and shrubbery surrounding the entire pond,” Adam remarked, “but is it possible for the boys to be in the water?”

  Alex. Natasha’s grandchild. “No.” Stewart snapped. “I’m confident the boys are not in the pond, but I fear for their safety. Alex is too young and small for these winds. We must continue searching.”

  “I have to look.” Adam rushed to the opening of the fence.

  “A-lex! George!” Stewart yelled.

  The trees swayed and bent like rubber. Loose twigs and branches flew wildly, breaking when they smashed into the ground. Others went crashing into tree trunks. Adam returned to Stewart’s side.

  “There is no sign of the boys by the pond. We’ll walk the circumference of the pond one last time.”

  “A-lex! George.” They yelled, continually calling the names.

  Both Adam and Stewart had spoken to Alex numerous times about the dangers of the forest. He was not to venture into the trees without an adult, preferably his father or grandfather. The trees went beyond their property and he could get lost.

  “Alex will stay away from the trees,” Adam muttered out loud.

  Stewart looked toward the trees. The smaller trunks swayed wildly in the wind. His heart kicked in his chest. His only grandchild was lost and scared in the horrific tempest. Young and small, the flying debris could seriously hurt or kill Alex. They could lose both Hope and the baby if she experienced complications or stress during the final stages of the pregnancy or the delivery. Terror burned through him. Turning his back to the wind, he closed his eyes and tilted his head toward the sky. “Natasha! Speak to me,” he pleaded. “Lead me to Alex.”

 

‹ Prev