A few nodded. Wind whipped leaves by feet that were bare and muddy due to wading in the river.
“What if the ants come again?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, James shrugged. “What if they do? What if our crops fail or our cane press breaks or the river dries up? Life is full of struggles. But also blessings. Remember, God is on our side.”
Several colonists shook their heads in dismay, but Eliza smiled his way. “Indeed, Doctor. And He will see us through.”
As if disagreeing, the last rays of sunlight withdrew through the trees and left them in darkness.
Lanterns were lit, but most of the colonists retired to their huts, too tired and wet to argue anymore. James was surprised when Angeline didn’t join them. Especially after the harrowing day she’d endured. Instead, Stowy still in her arms, she stoked the coals in the brick stove and put on some water for tea then joined him and the remaining colonists around the fire Blake lit in the center of the clearing.
Flames reflected over her loose hair, casting it in a fiery red that reminded him of the dragon he’d called her earlier. Holy thunder, he’d nearly kissed her! Her gaze briefly met his, but she bit her lip and quickly looked away, as if embarrassed.
Blake’s somber tone brought James from his musings. “So, are you thinking what I’m thinking, Doc?” The colonel led his wife to sit on a log and lowered himself beside her.
“If you’re thinking this could be the work of Destruction, then yes.” He scanned his friends’ reactions, not wanting to seem foolish but not wanting to hide his suspicions either. Especially should they be true. “First Graves’s death, the earthquake at the tunnels, the lightning strike, and now this. Either we have encountered a string of terrible luck or something else is going on here.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Dodd scratched his thick sideburns and spat in the dirt.
“We are talking about the ancient Hebrew book I’m translating, the one Graves found in the tunnels. We’re talking about the cannibal temple, the empty prison alcoves beneath it, and these odd visions and disasters that keep happening. They are linked somehow.”
“Nonsense!” Patrick’s tone was spiked with haughty disbelief as he adjusted his necktie. “I, for one, have encountered no visions. And these disasters are nothing but misfortunes common to any new settlers. Tell them, Diego!” He motioned toward Thiago.
“I am called Thiago.” The Brazilian guide didn’t hide his disdain for the man. “But sim, they are all natural events.” He moved beside Sarah, who sat on a chair, baby Lydia in her lap.
Magnolia slid her hand into Hayden’s. “But so many disasters so close together?”
Patrick’s slick gaze took her in like a crocodile would a rabbit, before he shifted eyes toward his son, Hayden. Though there was a physical resemblance, the similarities between them stopped there.
Hayden drew his wife closer. “Though I hate to agree with Patrick, I’m not ready to believe that some evil supernatural beast has caused our visions and all these misfortunes.”
“I hope you are right.” Blake rubbed his eyes and tossed another log in the fire. It crackled and spit, sending sparks into the night.
“I do as well.” James lowered to sit on a stump. But he doubted it. He must interpret more of the book. It was up to him, and him alone, to figure out what was happening. Not only because he was the only one who knew Hebrew but also because he was the only one who was fully convinced that something spiritual was afoot. A sudden weight pressed on his shoulders. Of all the people to bear such responsibility…God, what are You doing? I’ve done nothing but fail my entire life.
Even the rising croak of frogs and crickets seemed to mock him.
“What will happen if some of the colonists leave as they’ve threatened?” Hayden shifted his stance. “We will lose good men. Good workers.”
“Regardless,” Eliza said. “None of us are leaving. We all believe God brought us here. We must fight and not give up.”
“God. Bah!” Patrick snorted before shaking his head and turning to leave. “I shall leave you with your foolish notions.”
Good riddance, as far as James was concerned. Magnolia seemed to agree as she released a sigh and leaned against Hayden.
James faced Angeline. “What about you, Angeline? Do you wish to leave?”
She caressed Stowy’s fur a moment before lifting her eyes to his, causing his heart to nearly break at the pain he saw within them. “I have nowhere else to go.”
Neither did James. There was too much pain back in the States. For him. For all of them. They had no choice. They must make a life here in Brazil, or they would have no life at all.
A month passed. New sugar stalks sprouted and coffee was replanted, and soon the fertile Brazilian soil pushed up infant sprouts in a promise of coming abundance. Though ten colonists had packed their things and started on foot for Rio de Janeiro, the spirits of those who remained lifted with each passing day—each passing day in which no further disasters struck. The river provided an abundance of fish and the jungle a bounty of fruit. And Angeline’s nightmarish visions had decreased. Even Dodd seemed more preoccupied with finding his gold than gawking at her. Perhaps the worst was over. Perhaps God was indeed on their side.
Angeline couldn’t help but hum a cheerful tune as she flitted about her hut in preparation for the day. She had several shirts and trousers that needed mending as well as a torn quilt. And in the afternoon, she would assist Sarah in teaching the children. Yet, if she was honest, it was the thought of James that had her in such good humor. His attentions toward her had become more frequent and intense, made all the sweeter by her growing knowledge of his character and honor. Yes, he had changed. He wasn’t the same man she’d met in Tennessee over a year ago. Why, he’d even encouraged her to attend Sunday services, and she had found him to be a good preacher, fervent and heartfelt. This was a man she might well be able to trust. A man who could make her forget her past—sweep away the horrid memories like so much dust—and give her hope. Hope that she could live a normal life and find happiness like a normal woman.
A voice sounded from outside the canvas flap that served as a door to the hut she shared with Sarah. Her heart jolted in her chest. She knew that voice, a deep throaty voice that held a zest for life and a hint of hope. Checking herself in the small mirror on the wall, she pinched her cheeks and swept the flap aside. A bouquet of violet hibiscus and pink orchids filled her vision, flooding her with beauty and fragrance. Behind them, James’s smile sent a streak of warmth down to her toes.
“Good day,” he said. “I came across these in the jungle this morning and they reminded me of you.”
If she didn’t know how sincere he was, she’d laugh at his mawkish attempt at wooing her. Yet, despite his age of eight and twenty, he bore a charming boyishness that made her blush.
And she hadn’t blushed in years.
“Why, thank you, Doctor…I mean James,” she corrected herself and plucked the flowers from his hand. “They are lovely.”
“Indeed.” His bronze eyes poured life and love into hers, momentarily mesmerizing her. She could stare at them all day—at the depth of promise they held. But people were beginning to stir from their huts, curious gazes drifting their way.
The soothing rush of the river and flutter of leaves in the breeze whisked over her ears, accompanied by the happy warble of birds. A sleepy-eyed Hayden walked past, smiling at her and giving a knowing wink to James. James shifted his boots on the dirt and ran a finger down the scar angling the right side of his mouth as his gaze flitted about the town.
“Did you want something, James?”
“Yes. I…I hoped you would accompany me on a stroll after supper. Down to the beach. It’s so lovely there in the evening.”
“A stroll?” She teased with a grin. “Alone with you?”
The right side of his lips curved upward as he leaned toward her. “I hope you know by now that you can trust me, Angeline.”
His breath warmed her cheek. “I do.”
“I have something to ask you.”
Her legs turned to noodles, and she leaned on the door frame. He was going to ask if he could court her! He’d hinted about it often enough the past few weeks, though she had refused to believe it was possible. Her being courted by so fine a gentleman! Her being treated like a true lady.
Wiley Dodd emerged from his hut across the way, smothering her hopes with his frown. “How quaint.” He chuckled. “Another early morning rendezvous. And flowers too?”
Releasing a sigh of frustration, James slowly turned to face him. “Shouldn’t you be looking for gold, Dodd?”
“There’s more than one type of treasure, Doc.” He flashed his brows and winked at Angeline.
“But only one that can satisfy your insatiable greed, so be on your way, Dodd. And learn to mind your own business in the future.” James’s brass tone held an undeniable warning that sent emotion burning in Angeline’s throat. Never had a gentleman stood up for her before.
“Threats, threats.” Dodd clicked his tongue. “And from our preacher too. What is the world coming to?” He peered around James, his eyes locking on Angeline. “Have a pleasant day, Miss Angeline.”
Acid welled in her belly. She tore her gaze from his. Why wouldn’t the man leave her be? His petulant whistle as he strolled away grated on her worst fears.
James turned and took her hand in his. “Don’t let him bother you. He’s harmless.”
Angeline wasn’t so sure.
“Till supper then?” He placed a kiss on her hand and started down the street, glancing one last time at her over his shoulder. Diving her nose in the bouquet, she watched him walk away in that confident, boyish gait of his, light hair rippling in the breeze, white shirt, tan trousers tucked within his black work boots that stomped toward the fields for his day’s work. A feeling welled up inside of her she’d never known before, an ache so palpable she pressed a hand over her heart.
She loved James. At least she thought it was love. He stirred her body, soul, and spirit like no man ever had. Like she never knew a man could. But more than that, she cared for him, wanted the best for him. But therein lay the problem—one that was becoming more real the more her feelings grew. For if she truly loved him, she’d run as far away from him as she could.
Dodd slapped aside an oversized leaf with his shovel and trudged after Patrick. The man claimed to have discovered some new secret twist on the treasure maps during the night and was once again leading the way to the “gold that would make Dodd a king.” After three such grand declarations and nothing to show for it but sore muscles, blisters, and empty holes, Dodd’s frustration level was rising—along with his doubts.
“If this new information of yours don’t produce gold, we are switching roles. I’ll be the brains and you can be the brawn.”
“Don’t be absurd, man.” Patrick’s ever-annoying imperious tone continued to eat away at what was left of Dodd’s patience. “We must remain in the stations nature has given us. It will work out for the best in the end. You’ll see.”
“Nature ain’t given me the station of digging, I can swear to that.” Or trekking through a jungle so sultry it felt like wading through a hot bath. What Dodd wouldn’t give for a real hot bath. And a shave and a drink. And a woman. Which brought his thoughts back to Angeline and the memory of her and the doc acting all intimate that morning.
Patrick halted and Dodd barreled into him, releasing a string of curses. “For crying’s sake, tell me when you’re going to stop.”
“What has got you in such a foul mood today, Dodd?” Patrick fingered his goatee and scanned the jungle.
Dodd did the same but saw nothing but a web of green and brown strung between thin trees that reached for the sky. “How can you tell where we are going? Everything looks the same.”
“That’s why I’m the brains, my friend.” Patrick continued marching forward as a band of yellow monkeys raced through the canopy, chattering like gossiping women at tea.
“I’m guessing it’s a woman,” Patrick said.
“What’s a woman?”
“The reason for your foul temper.”
Dodd cursed the man’s blasted intuition.
“It’s the seamstress, isn’t it?” Withdrawing a handkerchief, Patrick dabbed his neck. “That voluptuous redhead.”
“None of your business,” Dodd growled, crushing a lizard beneath his boot.
“Ah, but it is my business, especially if I am to endure your company day after day. Why not make a play for her?”
“She doesn’t want me. We have a past.”
“Ah, interesting. Tell me more.”
“I’ll tell you nothing.”
Patrick chuckled. “She and the good doctor seem to be forming an attachment.”
Which was exactly what grated on Dodd. “What’s that to me?”
“Only that if you want her, you must be a man and take her.”
“Like you did Magnolia?” Dodd snickered.
Patrick turned on him, eyes like slits and jaw distended. “I allowed my son to have the wench.” He poked Dodd’s chest with his jeweled finger. “And you’ll not forget it. I will have any woman I want after I find this gold.”
Dodd smiled as the man resumed his march. The only pleasure he’d had on these torturous excursions were the few times he’d gotten under the pompous horker’s skin. Yet, he could not deny the wisdom in the man’s words. Dodd was in need of female companionship. And there was a perfectly lovely female for the taking, one that he could force to do whatever he wanted. Then what was he waiting for?
Dipping a cloth in the brook, Angeline wrung it out and brought it to her neck and face. She wanted to look her best for her stroll with James, but her day had been so busy, she hadn’t had time to bathe properly. Besides, after Dodd discovered the women’s bathing pool a few months back, they really hadn’t found a new spot where the ladies felt safe from prying eyes.
A flock of parakeets darted from branch to branch in a nearby tree chirping and playfully pecking each other’s beaks, drawing a smile from Angeline. Water trickled over a mound of boulders as it made its way down the creek bed while Stowy sprawled on a flat rock, soaking in what was left of the sun before it dipped behind the trees. Angeline moistened her cloth again. Sitting on a fallen log, she allowed the cool water to soothe her skin, all the while wondering at the peculiar feeling of happiness that invaded her soul. A happiness that brought back fleeting memories of her childhood before her father had died. Had it only been four years ago? It felt like a lifetime, so foreign were these sensations of contentment and joy.
Visions of the past few years attempted to barge into her thoughts, but she shoved them back. Today she would accept James’s suit. Today she would put her memories behind her and become a real lady. She had already changed her name, why not change her past along with it? James need never know anything different. How could keeping her secret be wrong when she knew she could make him happy? Yes, she would make him very happy. She loved him, and love could never be wrong.
Unbuttoning the top buttons of her collar, she dipped the rag in the creek again and dabbed her chest. Thu-ump, thu-ump, thu-ump, she could feel the pounding of her heart against her fingers, proving her excitement for the coming evening. The crunch of leaves snapped her to attention. Plucking her pistol from her belt, she slowly stood and swerved to aim at a shadow emerging from the jungle. Retreating sunlight slicked over blond hair, slid down a pointy nose, to finally ride on the smug shoulders of Wiley Dodd.
C
HAPTER 10
What do you want, Dodd?” Though the barrel of the gun quivered in Angeline’s hand, she kept it leveled at the vile ex-lawman.
He strutted toward her, his grin reminding her of Stowy after he caught a mouse—pleased with himself and very, very hungry. A hungry gaze that now lowered to her unbuttoned shirt. Taking a step back, she determined to shoot the man if he came any closer.
&nb
sp; “You have a bad habit of spying on women at their bath, sir,” she spat.
He clipped thumbs in his belt and eyed her. “I meant no offense, I merely came to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” She gestured toward the jungle with her gun. “Now, leave.”
“Ah, but you had plenty to say to me that night at the Night Owl.”
Angeline’s heart plummeted. She wanted to say she knew of no place by that name. She wanted to call him mad. But they both knew she’d be lying.
He grinned. “I see you understand me quite well, my dear.”
“I am not your dear, and I don’t understand at all. Who cares if you remember me from some tavern?” She lifted one shoulder. “What is that to me?”
“Nothing to you, I’m sure. But everything to your doctor beau. You have noticed how he abhors immoral women? Why, he talks about it all the time—how he wants to keep our new town free of such vices as harlotry and the like.”
Nausea bubbled in her stomach. Of course she’d noticed. It was all she’d thought about the last month as she and James had grown closer. “Well, it’s a good thing there aren’t any harlots here.”
He raised a taunting brow. “Aren’t there?”
She lowered the gun, all hope lowering with it. “I knew you recognized me. You knew the minute we boarded the ship that brought us here, am I right?”
He circled her, assessing her as a panther would a rabbit. “Who could forget such a face?” He halted in front of her. “Or such a figure.”
A lizard skittered up a tree behind him, the perfect example of the man before her. Slimy, slick, and sneaky. “Then why wait until now to say something?”
He cocked his head. “Because, my dear, I knew you would never come to me of your own will, so we could…how shall I say?”—he tapped his chin—“Become reacquainted?”
A hiss followed by a growl drew her gaze to Stowy, who glared at Dodd from his perch on a rock. Even her cat could spot a bad seed. “I wish no reacquaintance with you.”
Abandoned Memories Page 8
