by Jody Hedlund
Victoria’s shoulders deflated. Maybe Tom had decided that he’d rather not go back with her. Maybe he didn’t want to face her father. Or maybe he didn’t want to be her bodyguard anymore and just didn’t know how to tell her.
She rushed after Theresa as fast as her constricting skirt would allow. She caught up with her in the hotel lobby. “You’re acting a bit strange. Is anything the matter?”
“What makes you think something is the matter?” Theresa didn’t slow her steps to wait for Victoria’s answer, but instead exited the hotel, giving Victoria little choice but to follow after her.
“You’re getting upset at everything I say.”
Theresa halted in front of a waiting carriage. “Maybe you’re just overly sensitive.”
“You’re angry with me, aren’t you?”
Theresa didn’t answer the question.
Victoria took her silence as an affirmative. “I knew it. You’re upset that I left Newport without telling you where I was going into hiding.”
“Your powers of perception truly astound me.” The sarcasm in Theresa’s voice was so caustic that it once again stung Victoria.
Victoria was at a loss for what to say to her friend. Fortunately, a young boy approached the carriage carrying Victoria’s luggage, and his presence and the commotion of loading their things covered the awkward moment. When the coachman finished strapping their bags, he opened the carriage door for them.
Victoria climbed inside, although she was sure she looked as stiff and encumbered as a wooden toy soldier. Sitting was even difficult. When she finally managed to get comfortable, she expected to find Theresa across from her, giving her another rebuking glare. Instead, Theresa stood outside whispering with the coachman. When she glanced up, she tugged her ear. “I’ve lost one of the diamond earrings that my grandmother gave me, and I need to go back up to my room and search for it.”
Victoria tried to scoot forward. “I’ll help you look.”
Theresa waved her back. “You go ahead to the dock. Nathaniel will be expecting us. He’s already there purchasing tickets for the steamer.” Theresa had already started back to the hotel. “Tell him I’ll be there shortly.”
Victoria hesitated, but when the coachman closed the door, she reclined against the hard leather seat and tried to sort through all of the confusion that had moved in like a thick New England fog. What was wrong with Theresa? Where had her dear friend gone, and who was this snapping person who had taken her place? If Theresa was angry with her, then why had she come with Nathaniel in the first place? And why would Tom abandon her after his determination all along to protect her from her attacker?
She stared out the window as the carriage rolled along the Provincetown streets. Her thoughts traveled back to the picture of Zelma sitting at the table this morning with her Bible open in front of her. When Victoria had said goodbye, the dear woman had clung to her hand, almost as if she’d sensed Victoria wasn’t coming back.
Victoria couldn’t keep from smiling at the memory of the passionate kisses Zelma always had for her husband and the tenderness James always had in return. Zelma had patiently taught her a great deal over the past month. She’d been a kind instructor, never rushing her and always encouraging. Victoria would miss the cooking and sewing lessons, along with Zelma’s sweet company.
Zelma was clearly a wise and godly woman. But she’d been wrong about one thing. She’d said that God was using Victoria to work in Tom’s life, that with her at his side he wouldn’t be able to run away from all his mistakes any longer.
Victoria hadn’t seen how God had used her to work in Tom’s life. Tom hadn’t wanted to stick by her side. Even when they’d been together, he hadn’t wanted to talk about anything from his past. He was still running from his mistakes.
“Oh, Tom.” She sighed and closed her eyes against a sudden swell of tears. In comparison to what she felt for Tom, she wasn’t sure she had truly loved any of her other suitors. Tom had been so unlike them. And it wasn’t simply because he was a common man who didn’t belong to the same social circles she did.
No, the differences went much deeper than money and prestige. Tom himself was different. He didn’t coddle her—as Theresa had suggested. Unlike other men, he wasn’t afraid to tell her no. He treated her like a person, not a wealthy heiress.
Of course, Nathaniel was different too, at least different from most New York society men. He was everything a woman like her could want—sincere, good-natured, and kind. She’d met too many rich men who could put on a congenial facade for a short time, but underneath they were full of their own self-importance and too enthralled with social-climbing to care about her. With her fortune, she was simply a means for them to accomplish more and look better.
Even though she ought to be happy with a man like Nathaniel, and even though she ought to rejoice in their future, she couldn’t conjure any joy no matter how hard she tried. Instead, her thoughts returned to the time she’d spent with Tom at Race Point.
For a few moments, she allowed herself the secret pleasure of reliving those weeks. All of the laughter and talking. All of the quick, heated embraces. All of the brief contacts and the simmering glances. And the few kisses they’d shared. Her stomach did several flips at the memory of the last one in the lighthouse.
At the bump of the carriage wheels in a rut, her eyes flew open. She caught hold of the door handle to keep herself steady on the seat. As she peered out the window, she savored the landscape—the sandy hills and tufts of willowy beach grass growing in clumps here and there. It amazed her that anything green could grow in such a barren environment.
She shifted and glanced out the opposite window. Under the clear sky, the ocean had taken on the same shade of blue. Although they were driving a fair distance from the shore, she could vividly picture herself walking with Tom in the low tide at sunset.
“Victoria Cole,” she scolded herself, “you stop all of your wallowing this instant.” She would only make herself miserable if every time she looked at the ocean she remembered Tom.
Instead, she adjusted her hat and fortified herself for meeting Nathaniel. The drive had been rather long. And the cab was getting stuffy. She hadn’t realized the dock was so far from the hotel.
Twisting as best her garments would allow, she glanced out the back window. She expected to see some evidence of Provincetown. When the glimpse showed her nothing but sand dunes, she sat forward with a start.
How far had they driven? She scooted across the seat from one window to the other, searching vainly for any sign of Provincetown or a steamer. Where were they?
Perhaps she’d misunderstood. Perhaps they were traveling to another location on the Cape. Maybe they weren’t riding on a steamer after all but were taking a train.
Even as Victoria tried to make sense of where the carriage was going, Theresa’s words came back to her, that Nathaniel was at the dock buying tickets. And when Nathaniel had mentioned they would ride on a steamer to Falmouth, he’d made it sound like they would leave from Provincetown.
A bubble of panic formed in Victoria’s chest. What if the driver had mistaken her destination?
As much as she tried to convince herself that nothing was wrong, dread began to gnaw at her. She pulled the fan out of her pocket, flipped it open, and fanned herself. Yet the air seemed even staler than before, and the gentle breeze she created did nothing to ease the perspiration forming on her brow.
She needed to question the driver. He would set her mind at ease. He would assure her of the plans. If they were off course, she could direct him back. That was easy enough.
She tugged on the bell pull and waited for the driver to respond to her call. After several long moments, she pulled it again, this time harder. When nothing happened, she sucked in a deep breath, reached for the door handle, and rattled it. She pushed it harder, and it didn’t give way.
“Stay calm, Victoria,” she admonished herself as she slid across the seat to the other door. Her fingers closed ar
ound the latch, and she silently prayed. Please let the door open. She pressed harder, and…it didn’t budge. She yanked on it again. Both doors were stuck. Or locked.
Had the driver purposefully locked her inside?
She probed at the edges of the window, looking for a way that she might be able to pry it open. Then she searched the rest of the carriage but couldn’t discover any other way that she might exit.
With a frustrated cry, she pounded her fists against the glass. “Let me out this instant!” When the vehicle continued to roll down the rocky road without slowing, Victoria beat against the front of the carriage in hope that the driver would hear her and stop.
But no amount of noise made a difference. She banged one last time against the front panel before collapsing into the seat. She was breathing hard, and her hat had fallen off.
The driver was clearly ignoring her because there was no way he could miss all her racket. If only he would stop, she could get answers. But something in the pit of her stomach told her everything she needed to know.
Although normally optimistic, she had the feeling all the positive thinking in the world wouldn’t get her out of her current predicament.
She’d been kidnapped. And this time Tom wouldn’t be coming after her.
Chapter 19
Tom gave another heave, but the chair scooted only a fraction. Although he had just two feet to go until he reached the door, the distance seemed a mile away. He heaved again and again, as he had been for the past thirty minutes since his captor had left the room.
His skull throbbed. The open wound at the back of his head stung. And dizzying blackness threatened him every time he moved. He’d awoken to find his hands tied to the spindles behind the chair, his feet bound to its legs, and his mouth gagged.
Of course, he hadn’t moved right away, not even to open his eyes. He’d wanted to learn as much as he could about his situation before alerting anyone to his wakefulness. After several minutes of complete silence, he’d begun to believe he’d been abandoned. But then a slight shift in a nearby floorboard told him someone was standing at the window looking outside.
Only a minute later, faint footsteps in the stairwell and hallway had told him Theresa was returning. She came in and spoke in hushed tones to a man she called Splash. Every word they’d spoken had frozen Tom’s blood. An accomplice was in the process of driving Victoria away to “dispose” of her. After the deed was done, the man they referred to as Butch would return under cover of darkness and help Splash get rid of Tom.
In the meantime, Splash had been charged with watching Tom and making sure he didn’t escape while Theresa boarded the steamer with Nathaniel. Tom had no doubt she’d come up with a plausible excuse for why Victoria had abandoned Nathaniel once again.
Tom had wanted to roar in protest. But he’d held himself motionless until well after Theresa had left. From the way Splash’s stomach had growled, Tom had figured it was only a matter of time before the man decided to go get something to eat.
He’d been right. From the moment Splash had left the hotel, Tom had begun the trek across the room to the door. Now his time was running out. Splash would be back soon. Theresa had indicated in her hurried whisper that she wouldn’t give the men their final payments until she knew for sure they’d rowed out to the middle of the bay and dropped him overboard too.
Too.
Every time he thought about the word, his panic mounted. What if at that very moment, Butch was in the process of forcing Victoria into a boat and rowing her out into the bay?
Tom propelled his body forward. He attempted to drag the chair further this time. It scraped noisily. But it only moved another inch. The panic pumping through every muscle wouldn’t let him give up. He’d already crossed most of the distance from the side corner where he’d been shoved out of sight. Once he reached the door, he could bang it. Hopefully the noise would alert someone to his predicament.
Oh, God, his heart cried. Help me so that I can help her. Of course, God had no reason to listen to his pleas. He hadn’t been on speaking terms with God for years. After what had happened with Ike and his mom, he figured God hadn’t wanted to hear from him. Even if an all-loving God still loved him, he wasn’t worthy of that love. Not after all the destruction he’d caused.
It hadn’t mattered what his mom had told him, hadn’t mattered that she didn’t blame him or that she was supposedly at peace over all that had transpired. He held himself responsible and would until the day he died.
He didn’t deserve God’s grace for himself, but he wanted it for Victoria. “God,” he silently pleaded again, “get me out of here on time so that I can save her.” He’d do anything for her, even beg and bargain with God.
He paused in his efforts and sucked in a breath. Fifteen inches left. At the pounding of shoes on the stairway at the end of the hall, he rocked harder. Only seconds left until Splash returned. Now he wouldn’t be able to alert anyone for help. But at least he could block the door and prevent Splash from coming back inside and knocking him unconscious again. Or killing him.
Tom pushed forward. Urgency and frustration spurred him on. He had to buy himself more time to figure out another plan.
The footsteps started down the hallway.
He gave a final desperate lunge. But the chair began to tip. He had no way of stopping it or bracing himself for the impact. He twisted as much as he could, and his shoulder hit the door. The impact jarred his wounds. Blackness filled his vision. He blinked hard. He had to stay conscious for Victoria’s sake.
He’d already failed her by letting down his guard with Theresa. He should have been more careful, should have been more alert, should have known this would happen.
“You can’t know everything, Tommy.” Ike’s calm words rose into his conscience. “You think you can figure out every detail. But some things are beyond our control.”
Ike had been shivering in the back of the Confederate wagon, wet and exposed to the wind and rain when he’d spoken those words. The piles of stinking Confederate corpses next to them had caused Tom to retch until his stomach ached and his throat was raw. But at least Ike hadn’t been forced to walk.
Tom had ripped the cleanest part off his shirt and stuffed it into the gaping bullet hole in Ike’s thigh. As the miles had drawn them closer to their trial and hanging, he’d doctored Ike’s wound and told himself he’d find a way to protect his brother.
“You can’t be perfect,” Ike had said. “No one is. That’s why we need God.”
No matter how much Ike had reassured him, Tom blamed himself for what had happened. He should have seen the ambush, should have known they were walking into a trap. His keen senses had saved them from plenty of trouble on other missions. He’d always noticed the broken branches, the footprints in the wet grass, the faint sourness of sweat or horseflesh. How had he not heard, seen, or sensed the trap like he usually did? Even after all these years, he didn’t understand how he’d missed the clues.
Tom leaned his head against the door and waited for the first shove against it.
He should have been able to protect Ike just like he should have been able to protect Victoria. How had he failed so miserably once again? The thought that Victoria might be hurting or suffering was driving him crazy. Every second apart from her was stirring him into a frenzy. If he could work his hands free from the bindings, he’d kill Splash when he walked through the door.
However, Splash apparently knew how to tie a knot that couldn’t be loosened. Tom had tried every trick he’d ever learned, but the rope hadn’t budged. The only thing left was to break one of his thumbs so that he’d have room to slip his hand free.
First he had to stop Splash from coming through the door. That would give Tom at best three minutes to break his thumb and free himself before Splash realized he could get into the room from the balcony.
Fighting to stay alert, Tom pressed the weight of his body against the door.
*
Victoria peered out the w
indow. At the sight of several buildings, she realized they were nearing a town. A low-lying warehouse and two old abandoned homes sat near the shore. Further down the road was what appeared to be a thoroughfare that ran through a business district.
She sat up and pressed her hands to the glass. Once she was closer to civilization, she’d renew her efforts to gain attention. Surely some passerby would notice her frantic pounding and take mercy upon her. Or at the very least alert the authorities.
When the carriage made a sudden turn, Victoria let out a cry of frustration. “No!” As the carriage halted at the rear of the warehouse, she shouted even louder. “Help! Help! Someone, please!”
The wide double doors of the building were open, revealing a dark interior. She couldn’t see any movement either inside or out. With tall withered weeds growing around the perimeter and the rusted chain that hung from the door handle, the place looked deserted.
Her spirits sank. But as the carriage bent under the weight of the driver’s descent, she came up with her next plan of action. Once the coachman opened the door, all she needed to do was explain her situation. She’d offer him a large reward if he returned her to Newport unharmed.
She braced herself for the door to open, but the driver disappeared into the warehouse. Something about his tall thin form and long arms reminded her of the driver who’d attempted to kidnap her on her wedding day. Was this the same man? And why hadn’t she noticed his appearance when he’d loaded her bags?
A shudder formed in her tailbone and worked its way up her spine to the back of her neck. Tom had been right about everything. Now she was ashamed she’d ever thought he was overprotective. The threat had been real and serious, and she’d taken it much too lightly, hadn’t wanted to believe that someone was really capable of hurting her.
Tom had been wise to insist on her waiting at Race Point after he’d disclosed her location. As it was, in Provincetown she’d been such easy prey, especially getting into the carriage. She was just glad that Theresa hadn’t joined her. The lost earring had likely kept her friend from grave danger. If only Victoria had gone to help search for it.
