Elusive Hope

by Marylu Tyndall

  “Your wish is my command.” Hayden grinned and swept an arm out in a royal bow. Then gazing up, he spread his arms wide, closed his eyes, and allowed the water to wash over him in sheets.

  Water gushed over Magnolia, too, soaking her hair, streaming over her face, dripping from her chin, and flowing down her gown. Refreshing and cool. Puddles formed on the ground as water streamed off plants and leaves. She opened her palm, allowing the rain to wash away the mud. She felt like crying, like screaming…

  Like dancing.

  Thunder rumbled.

  Their gazes met through the blur of rain. Water pooled on Hayden’s dark lashes and glued his shirt to his muscled chest. He started to chuckle. Not a bombastic victor’s chuckle, but the hearty, warm chuckle of friendship. He pointed at her as his chuckle transformed into laughter, deep rolling laughter, that caused him to bend over and hold his stomach.

  An unavoidable giggle burst from Magnolia’s lips. She glanced down at her saturated dress, then closed her eyes and lifted her face to the torrent, allowing her own laughter to ring free. When her glance took in Hayden again, looking like a drowned bear, her laughter grew louder, until she, too, spread out her arms and twirled around, basking in the refreshing rain.

  CHAPTER 11

  After several unsuccessful attempts, Hayden finally lit a fire with some sparse kindling and a few dry logs. The flames snapped and sparked. He blew on them, watching them rise to dance over the wood. Setting moist logs around the edge of the fire to dry, he stood, shook the water from his hair, and ran a hand through the saturated strands. The smell of spicy rain and musky forest filled his lungs.

  Shivering, Magnolia inched to the fire, a dazed look in her eyes. Muddy water dripped from the hem of her gown. Sopping, flaxen curls hung down to her waist. Raindrops sparkled in her lashes like diamonds as she knelt by the warm flames and held out her hands. She looked like a forest sprite who’d tumbled over a waterfall. A delectable, delicious forest sprite. Hayden licked his lips.

  A fine mist filtered through the canopy, coating everything in a silvery sheen as evening lowered its black shroud over the jungle. The scent of orchids and musky earth swirled about them. A hint of a breeze added the briny sting of the sea. Her lips trembled, and she hugged herself.

  “You should change out of those clothes, Princess. Tending a sick woman is not part of the bargain.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. The numbness in her eyes transformed to ice. “What good will that do? It’s still raining.” She stared back at the fire. “I’m going to die out here in the middle of nowhere. I’m going to die in a puddle of mud and be eaten by worms and spiders and toads.” She slumped onto a carpet of wet leaves.

  “Toads don’t eat humans.” Hayden could think of nothing else to say to such a ludicrous outburst. She lowered her head and let out an ear-piercing wail.

  Splendid. He had no idea what to do with a blubbering female. He much preferred a shrew to this sobbing mass of dimity and lace. But she was right about one thing. The rain wasn’t stopping, and although he would be quite comfortable curling up beneath a huge leaf somewhere, he could hardly expect her to do the same. Zooks! He’d known the woman would be more trouble than she was worth. Selecting one of the wet logs, he tossed it on the fire. The wood sizzled and hissed, sending smoke curling into the air.

  With a grunt, Hayden shoved aside some hanging vines and headed into the jungle. Hopefully, he could find what he needed before the encroaching darkness stole everything from sight. After several minutes of stumbling around in the shadows, he followed the firelight back to the small clearing, bamboo, banana leaves, and palm fronds bundled in his arms. Magnolia looked up and wiped tears away as if she hadn’t realized he’d been gone.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice broke, reminding him of a little girl’s, an innocent little girl who needed his help. Despite his best efforts, it touched a deep part of him that wanted to protect and provide.

  “Making you a shelter.” He set to task, hearing her sigh of relief even above the drone of the jungle. Choosing the largest tree trunk at the edge of the clearing, he began leaning the bamboo against it, tying the hollow stems together with twine and placing palm fronds and banana leaves on top. The rain turned from mist to drops that bounced off leaves and dirt, and he placed another log on the sputtering fire, hoping the flames wouldn’t die out. Magnolia sat in the same spot, strands of hair glued to her cheeks, and eyes alight with disbelief.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” she asked.

  Hayden shrugged. “I slept in the woods outside Charleston when it became too dangerous in the city.”

  Her delicate brows dipped. “Outside? Why didn’t you sleep in your bed?”

  “I had none.” Hayden returned to his task, stacking more leaves on top to form a watertight barrier, then tying more bamboo together to form a bed.

  He heard her saturated skirts slosh as she struggled to rise, heard her unladylike curse and the slap of mud as she pushed herself up from her hands and knees. “Didn’t have a bed? What of your parents?”

  He clenched his jaw at her sympathetic tone, regretting his disclosure. He didn’t want pity. Especially not from someone like her. Wealthy and pampered. The type of people who’d averted their eyes and held handkerchiefs to their noses when little Hayden had passed on the street, begging for food.

  He slammed back into the jungle, returning within minutes with armfuls of dry leaves he’d found beneath an Inga tree. He laid them on the bamboo frame inside the shelter, ignoring those sapphire eyes of hers as they followed his every move. After a few more trips, he’d gathered enough to complete a bed for her to sleep on.

  The rain lessened into a light drizzle as darkness took the final step onto The throne of night, issuing in the buzz and chirp of its evening subjects.

  “Your shelter awaits, Princess.” Hayden gave a mock bow with a sweep of his hand.

  She eyed him with a mixture of gratitude and surprise. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Though I’m sure the words may feel foreign on your tongue, I believe thank you is in order.”

  Her lips drew into a tight line, and the harridan reappeared in her eyes. “Of course I know to say thank you, you untutored toad,” she spat. But then her expression softened. “However I do thank you. Your kindness is most unexpected.” She pressed down her sodden skirts with a ragged sigh as if saying the words had exhausted her.

  Not sure whether he should be angry at being called a toad or appreciative of her first thank you, Hayden merely shrugged. “You should change into dry clothes and get into the shelter. I fear the rain may be with us for a while.”

  “And just where am I supposed to do that?” She gazed around as suspicion tightened the lines on her face. Hayden smiled. Which caused her to lift a condescending brow—made all the more adorable because she looked like a drowned mermaid. If mermaids could even drown.

  “Princess, I’m too tired and too wet to sneak a peek at your unclad body,” he lied and gestured toward a clump of thick brush. “You may change behind that. I’ll stay here and tend the fire.” Which needed tending by the looks of the dying embers. Besides, the task would give him something to focus on. Anything but where his mind kept taking him—to the vision of her bare curves and silky skin, only enhanced by the tiny moans and whispery whines emanating from the bush as she struggled to disrobe. He shook the vision from his head, selected the least wet log, and placed it on the fire, suddenly feeling a bit aflame himself.

  “Need any help?” He half-teased.

  “You stay right where you are, Hayden Gale!”

  Squatting by the flames, Hayden rubbed his stubbled jaw. The only women he’d known outside of those he’d swindled were The kind who had no compunction taking off their clothes in front of men. Some he’d befriended. Others he’d used. Most he’d forgotten. He had no idea how to treat a real lady, how to control urges he’d always satisfied on a whim. And despite her viper tongue, Magnolia was indeed a tempt
ing morsel. Especially for a man who’d been hungry for a very long time.

  A breeze blew against his wet clothes, etching a chill down his back. Perhaps if he stayed wet and cold all night, it would keep his thoughts in check. Either that or he’d catch his death. Which somehow seemed preferable over trying to resist the temptation that continued to grunt and groan from behind the thicket. Rising, Hayden searched for any remaining dry leaves to toss into the fire—

  When Magnolia screamed.

  Plucking a knife from his belt, he dashed toward the bushes, preparing to meet some wild beast or ferocious spider.

  “Hayden!”

  Diving through leaves, he grabbed Magnolia, shoved her behind him, and thrust out his blade to meet her attacker. Scattered firelight from the camp flickered over dark greenery that barely rustled beneath a weak breeze. Nothing was there.

  “There it is! There it is!” Hoping over the dirt as if it were on fire, Magnolia let out another grating scream and pointed to the ground. The shadow of a snake—a rather large snake—slithered over the dirt, heading toward a curtain of vines. No doubt to escape the strident clamor.

  Releasing Magnolia, Hayden dove and thrust his knife through its head. the thick body bounced and twitched for several seconds before finally stilling. After ensuring it was dead, Hayden reached for Magnolia, surprised when she folded against him, surprised even more by the soft press of her curves on his chest, the silky feel of her trembling body beneath her chemise. “Did it bite you?”

  She shook her head.

  Relieved, Hayden untangled himself from her arms and nudged her back. But the naïve temptress pressed against him again, sobbing hysterically. He groaned inwardly, keeping his hands at his side and clenching his jaw until it hurt, hoping the pain would help him focus. “Only a snake, Princess.”

  “But it’s slimy and disgusting and it crawled on my leg.” Her voice quavered.

  Against his better judgment, Hayden folded his arms around her and rubbed her back. Her need for comfort oddly deflated his own needs at The moment. Besides, he might as well enjoy the feel of her while he could. Because he knew it wouldn’t last.

  “How dare you?” She stepped back and slapped him across the face.

  Not long at all. He rubbed his cheek. “I was comforting you.”

  “You were taking liberties.” Grabbing her wet skirts from the bush, she held them up to her chin. “In my frightened condition!”

  Hayden huffed. “It was you who ran into my arms, Princess.”

  “You could have resisted me.”

  “You were hysterical. What was I supposed to do? Shove you aside and leave?”

  “You should have noticed I wore nothing but my chemise and excused yourself.”

  “I had a snake to kill, if you remember.”

  She sniffed. “Well, after that, of course. Stop staring at me!”

  Hayden was indeed staring at her, more from a stupefied confusion than any lewd intention. Besides, the darkness forbade him to make out the details he so desperately wished to see. And his desire to do so had vanished with her slap. Leaning over, he picked up his knife, still stuck in the snake’s head and held up the beast.

  Magnolia leapt back. “What are you going to do with that?”

  Shoving aside the scraggly bush, Hayden headed back to camp. “Make dinner.”

  Lowering herself onto A rock, Angeline nuzzled her face against her cat, Stowy’s, soft fur and stared across the dark water of the creek. Wisps of night mist danced atop ripples as they tumbled over boulders to form a dozen tiny crystalline waterfalls. She loved this time of night. When everyone had retired to their huts and she could steal away for a few moments alone. a time when she could dip in the creek and allow the warm waters to wash away the filth of the day and caress her skin—a time to reflect on her life and her future; on her uncanny attraction to the preacher, James; on what she could do about Dodd’s constant attention; on how she ended up being a seamstress in a town without a single bolt of fabric, though there were plenty of repairs needed on the colonists’ already-worn clothing. But most of all, she needed time to reflect on whether she’d been mistaken in hoping she could escape her past by hiding in the middle of the Brazilian jungle.

  Stowy glanced up at her with a merow to complain that she’d stopped petting him. Smiling, she scratched his head then ran her fingers down his back as he rumbled out a loud purr. “You’re such a good companion, little one.” She set him down beside her. “Now, stay here while I bathe.” The cat promptly plopped on the dirt and folded his legs beneath his chest, reminding Angeline she needn’t worry about him. Ever since they’d come ashore, Stowy rarely left her side. It was as if he sensed dangers in the jungle and decided it was best to stay close. Everyone in New Hope had predicted he’d be devoured by some predator within a week, but here he was three months later, fit and fine. What a wise cat. Much wiser than her it seemed, for she had not fared as well in the wilds of city life.

  Angeline began unbuttoning her blouse as she gazed across the misty creek. One of the farmers’ wives had come across this isolated stream last month, and after telling the other women, they had all been sworn to secrecy about its location. The reason why stared at Angeline from just a few feet away. A round, stone basin, formed out of a rock outcropping, lay perfectly positioned beneath a gentle waterfall. Constantly filled to overflowing with calm, fresh water and surrounded by enough leaves to provide sufficient privacy, it provided a warm bath in the middle of the jungle—pure heaven to all of the colony’s ladies. Well, if one didn’t mind the mud, insects, and fish.

  Drawing off her blouse, Angeline untied her ankle boots, removed her shoes, and took a quick glance around. There was no one around except a bright yellow parrot, who stared at her from a tree branch, and a rather frumpy looking frog perched on a rock in the middle of the creek. After removing her stockings, skirts, petticoats, corset cover, and corset, only her thin chemise remained. Thank goodness she’d given up on her crinoline weeks ago. The darn thing was far too cumbersome to work in.

  After laying her clothes on top of a shrub, she fingered the ring hanging on a chain around her neck—a sparkling ruby mounted in a gypsy setting. On either side of the ruby, two white topazes shimmered in the moonlight. It was her father’s ring. he’d always told Angeline that she was the red ruby in the center while the topazes were he and her mother, always guarding and watching out for her. Sorrow caused her throat to clamp shut at the thought, and she glanced up into the star-sprinkled sky, wondering if they were looking out for her now. Even though her mother died in childbirth, Angeline had always felt her love from beyond the grave, as she did her father’s, dead some four years now. She had pulled the ring off his cold finger, placed it around her neck, and had never taken it off since. Not even when…

  But she couldn’t think of that now. Didn’t want to think of that now…

  Or what her parents would think if they knew what she’d become.

  “If only you hadn’t died, Papa. If only you hadn’t sent me to Uncle John’s.” Wiping away a tear, she kissed the ring and climbed to the rim of the basin. An unavoidable moan of pleasure escaped her lips as she slid into the warm water. the frog uttered a deep ribbit. She smiled at him, hoping he’d stay on his rock and wouldn’t be tempted to join her. Floating her head back on the water, she stared through the canopy at the clusters of stars flung like pieces of glass across a velvet backdrop. She held her nose and dipped beneath the surface. The sounds of the jungle muted to gurgles and the heavy swish of liquid. So soothing—as if she were in another world. A world far away where there were no problems, no struggles, no heartache.

  No past.

  Her lungs ached and she broke the surface, back to reality, back to the hiss of wind and hum of the jungle and the crackle of a fire.

  A fire? She scanned the clearing. A dark figure sat on the beach.

  Covering herself, she shoved backward until stone struck her back. Water sloshed. A shriek stuck in her thr
oat. A cloud shifted. Moonlight dappled the man in silver. He smiled, revealing a row of crooked, stained teeth. Brown hair as dull as paste hung limp to shoulders that sagged beneath a thick wool overcoat missing two buttons. Bushy, graying sideburns angled down his limpid jaw as he studied her and stretched out his booted legs. “How’s about a little fun, missy?”

  Blood raced from Angeline’s heart, leaving her numb. Joseph Gordon. What was he doing in Brazil? “You can’t be here.” Surely she was going mad. The heat, The insects, the hard work, the fear of Dodd recognizing her from that one night in a tavern in Richmond…All of it had ruptured her reason, shredding it into nonsensical rubbish.

  “Ah, but I am here.” He chuckled and leaned forward on his knees, looking at her with that same wanton look he’d always worn during the six months she’d lived in Savannah. Before he and his inquisitive nature and constant beatings had forced her to move—yet again.

  “How?…I don’t…What do you want?” She finally said, eyeing her clothing on the bush. Out of reach.

  “To tell you that you can’t run from what you are, Clarissa. Not here in Brazil and not if you went to the farthest parts of the earth, nor to the bottom of the sea. No, no.” He gave a feigned sigh of disappointment. “And you can’t hide what you done neither.”

  Angeline swallowed, her heart sinking into the silt beneath her feet. It was all over. Old Joseph Gordan would have no compunction to sharing her dirty secret with everyone.

  He grinned. “Yes indeedy, you and I are going to have barrels of fun getting reacquainted.”

  “What are you doing, Mr. Dodd?” Overcome at the shock of seeing the man in the jungle so late at night, Eliza’s shout came out louder than she intended.

  Dodd seemed equally startled as he leapt back from his position crouched behind a bush. Immediately, he regained his composure and smiled. “Why nothing at all, Mrs. Colonel. Nothing at all. Just searching for gold.”