Her head tilted to the side and she started to nod. “I suppose it is seawater, too, but the earth it passes through strains the water and keeps back the salt. Like cheesecloth.”
Impressed by her quick understanding, Alejandro studied her profile again. “Somewhat like that, yes.” He said nothing more until they reached the base of the hill they would climb to the well. She was content to remain silent.
At first, the well had been no more than a five-foot-deep hole in the ground, but he’d soon lined the hole with rocks so it would keep its shape. Then he wove together thin branches to create a cover, to keep animals from falling inside when they came looking for freshwater. Though it was hardly a great feat of engineering, Alejandro still regarded his work with pride.
“You built this?” Miss Everly released his arm to put her hands on the side of the well, where stones came up two feet from the ground. Alejandro removed the rocks holding the cover down, then the cover itself.
“Sí. I had to.” He picked up the rope he’d tied to a stick laying across the four-foot opening. He lifted the bucket already attached to the rope from his morning ablutions and dropped it inside. “I want to make it easier to lower and raise the bucket, with a handle, but the well is not deep, and there are other things that take my attention.”
She bent to look into the hole, nodding as she listened to him. “I am very glad you have a well, Alejandro. I certainly would not have known where to go looking for water.”
The comment struck him as painful, though he was sure it was meant to be grateful. His time on the island, lonely and without hope, had forced him to focus on his survival every single day. Forced him to recognize the agonizing truths that he would live out his life without his family, without another soul at all. He’d rather be anywhere in the world with people than stuck on the island. But his misfortune, his work to stay alive, gifted the woman at his side with drinkable water.
She would survive because he had lived on the island for fourteen months, learned its ways, and dug a well.
Emotion clawed at his throat, but Alejandro refused to give in to it. He had dug a well, this woman would drink his water and live, but for what? To end her days as he would?
Perhaps it had not been a miracle that brought her to his side after all.
5
Many gentlemen had taken Hope’s hands over the years. They had helped her in and out of carriages, escorted her, clasped hands while dancing, but nothing strange had ever happened to make her take notice of the first moment her hand touched theirs.
Yet when Alejandro clasped her hands with his larger, work-roughened hands, his dark eyes upon her, it was as though thunder cracked overhead. Her heart pounded against her chest, her breath caught, and the world shifted to make room for something she instinctively knew would change her.
Hope knew she ought to be frightened. Terrified, most likely. Doubtful of what she felt. Yet calmness had overcome her almost immediately, a sureness enveloping her in warmth that had nothing to do with the sun overhead. She averted her eyes and made a quip about the water, her thoughts racing along ahead of her.
He explained the water might not agree with her, but only a few small sips were necessary at present.
After drinking the water directly from the bucket, supported by Alejandro as her arms seemed unwilling to hold the heavy thing aloft, Hope’s attention turned to the trees. “Is that a path?” She pointed at a track of dirt leading up the hill, disappearing beneath the shade of the branches.
“It leads to my shelter.” Alejandro’s deep voice had a soothing quality to it. He spoke to her as if she was in need of gentleness, lest she break with a too-harsh word. While the effort must be appreciated, Hope did not precisely wish for it to continue. “I come down that path several times a day.”
She peeked at him from the corner of her eye, taking in the way his eyebrows drew together when he frowned. What unpleasant thoughts was he thinking? Perhaps he did not like that she had landed upon his beach for him to worry over.
“We need to search for the rest of my party,” she said, and he slowly turned to face her. “If I survived, falling into that horrid sea, they must have made it. They were in a boat. Though it was caught on something. Shoals, I think.”
That careful look came into his eyes again. “You are not strong enough to walk the whole island, señorita.”
The pounding in her head had not lessened by much, but surely she was capable of walking along a beach. Hope opened her mouth to argue with him.
He spoke before she could. “Rest for a few hours, and then we will go look. Together.” There was a sureness to him that made her hesitate. Hope’s friends knew her to be stubborn. To rush about when she ought to remain still. Yet this man, when he met her gaze squarely with his own, stilled that desire. “Trust me. Please.”
A twist of her heart made her study him more carefully. There was nothing demanding in his words. Instinctively she knew if she insisted, he would accompany her. “Very well.” His shoulders relaxed, he held one hand out to her and she took it, bracing herself for another moment like before. Instead, a different sensation settled calmly within her. She did not have a name for it, but it felt familiar, somehow. He gently squeezed her hand and tugged, pulling her toward the shade of the trees.
“Here, señorita. Rest.” Alejandro gestured to the ground covered in some sort of grass and ivy. He kept hold of her as she lowered herself to sit against the tree, then released her. “Are you hungry?”
“I do not think so.” It was still difficult to tell what her stomach would and would not tolerate. The water had felt wonderful on her parched lips and injured throat, but her stomach still twisted and turned. Hope tilted her head back against the trunk of the tree, closing her eyes.
He sat as well, an arm’s length away. “You have but to tell me what you need. I will do all I can to help you. I promise.” His words held a weight to them that reassured her.
With her eyes still closed, Hope asked, “Where are you from, Alejandro?”
“The Viceroyalty of Ria de la Plata,” he answered, the R’s rolling from his tongue like a purr. “South America.”
“England,” she said. “By way of St. Kitt’s.” Hope peeked at him with one eye, only to find him watching her, a sorrow in his eyes she had not noticed before. He must miss his home. Did he have a family longing for his return? That turned her thoughts to her own family, across an ocean, without any knowledge of the hardship she faced. What would they think, when she told them of this particular adventure?
They spoke, voices as soft as the breeze, for what must have been an hour. He told her of his home, the beginnings of the revolution which turned his father fearful of Alejandro’s safety, of his being sent to the United States to learn more of creating a new government. His voice flowed over her, settling what remained of her worries. He was well educated. Cultured. Lonely. When he fell silent after speaking of his younger brother, wondering if the boy had gone to war, Hope told him of Sir Isaac. This naturally lead her to speaking of her home.
“I have a twin sister, then a younger brother, and two more sisters.” Her thoughts drifted to Grace. More than ever, she knew they had done the right thing when switching places. Grace would not have reacted this calmly to going overboard in a storm, washing up on a beach with only a stranger for company. Mostly because Grace would not have the immediate connection to this man Hope had felt.
Her name. She could tell him her name. Hope fell silent, debating the wisdom of such a thing. The others were out there, she knew. Revealing her name to Alejandro, then coming upon a group of people who thought her someone else, might cause more confusion and awkwardness than necessary.
And what would he think of the lie she had told?
“I wish you were not here,” he said, murmuring his words as though they were thoughts which had escaped him. He winced and lowered his head. His hands scooped up some of the ivy and began twisting it.
Her stomach fell. “Why?” A
nd how much less would he want her near if he learned she was a liar?
He looked up at her through a curtain of black hair. “Because you will always be here, Miss Everly. Just as I will always be here. I wish it were not so. No one deserves such a fate.”
Though pretending to be her sister had often caused her frustration, in that moment Hope acted as kindly as Grace ever had, and quite naturally. She moved closer to Alejandro and placed her fingertips against his cheek. She had never dared touch a man in such a way. “Neither should anyone be alone as you have been.”
For a long moment they stared at each other, his eyes studying her, measuring something. His hand slowly covered hers, holding it gently against his cheek. Alejandro closed his eyes. “I thought you were an angel when I first saw you. A miracle.”
Heat rose in her cheeks, a stray breeze rustled the leaves above and cooled her skin. “I cannot say that I am either.”
His eyes opened again, warmth within them. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His eyes lowered and he pulled away just enough that she no longer touched him. “Perdón. I do not wish to frighten you.”
The words fell from her lips without thought. “I am not afraid.” Not of him. Instead of fear, she felt a pull toward him, a rightness about being near him she could not explain. “How can I be? I was washed ashore here for a reason. Perhaps that reason is you.”
Their conversation flowed easily, as comfortably as if they sat in a drawing room rather than beneath a tropical tree for which she had no name. It was as though she had always known him. She could not feel any safer with Alejandro than she did with Silas, Isaac, or Jacob. Yet the stirring in her breast had never occurred near any of her lifelong friends.
Hope knew the truth in her very soul. Whatever came next, she was precisely where she ought to be. The sudden understanding in Alejandro’s eyes gave her leave to believe he felt it, too. Peace wrapped around her heart, and she took his hand in hers, twining her fingers with his.
Somehow, everything would turn out as it should.
* * *
What did a man say to such a proclamation? The Englishwoman spoke with such surety, a conviction burning in her eyes, that he could not refute her words. They had stirred his heart as nothing before. Not even the desire to defend his country had moved him in such a manner.
Alejandro kept her hand in his, grateful for the contact.
But they could not sit beneath the tree all day. He needed to get her up the hill, if possible, and fed.
A lizard darted from beneath the ivy near Miss Everly’s feet, startling a small yelp from her. The tiny green and brown beast hesitated a moment before darting away into the trees. Miss Everly put her free hand to her head and loosed a nervous laugh.
“Come. You have sat long enough, I think. You need to eat.” Alejandro kept her hand and stood, tugging her up to her feet. She came up easier than the last time, giving him a measure of reassurance. Her strength would return to her. He pointed to the path with his free hand. “Can you make it up the path?”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. “I am not a weakling, sir, though I admit I have had better moments.” She exhaled sharply and stared at the hill. “I can make it to the top.”
Alejandro started their climb, mindful of her bare feet and the branches in their path. He guided her carefully around stones and roots he normally did not notice, all the while keeping hold of her hand. What would his mother say about such a familiarity taken with a perfect stranger? Without a chaperone? The rules of courtship were strict.
Not that he thought of courting the woman at his side. The impossibility of such a thing nearly made him snort aloud. What a thing to think. They were stranded on an island. Her cheerful outlook would change before long.
The sound of her breathing grew louder as they went higher. Alejandro shortened his steps, giving her more time to catch her breath. The climb up would be difficult for anyone unused to the exercise, but her situation made it more so.
“Tell me,” she said between pants, “what is that around your neck?”
Alejandro’s free hand reflexively took hold of his mother’s ring. “It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me when I left home, so I would have her with me.” Did that make him sound foolish, to cling to his mother’s memory in such a way?
“She must miss you,” Miss Everly said, voice raspy once more. He ought to have carried the bucket of water up with them. It would be an easy thing for him to return for it, once she was settled and eating. The berries he had gathered the day before, and some of the dried seal meat, would have to do for her meal.
He said nothing more about his mother, letting silence hang between them. Birdsong in the trees, the distant roar of the ocean, was all the sound they heard until they entered the clearing.
Alejandro let her sink to the ground again, beneath the trees. When he released her hand at last, stepping away, something twisted in his gut. Then the lovely woman smiled up at him, almost encouragingly. He was supposed to be the one taking care of her, yet the irrational fear that she would disappear when he turned his back kept his eyes trained on her. He took several backward steps before forcing himself to turn around to enter the shelter. Still, he looked over his shoulder before passing through the entry.
Miss Everly remained sitting beneath the trees, arms wrapped around her knees and blue eyes upon him.
He gathered the food quickly and returned, using the lid of one of his baskets as a platter to present his meager offering to her. Two strips of seal meat, several berries, and a few nut-like pods. She took the woven lid from him almost daintily, examined the food, and then ate. She did not ask questions, nor turn up her nose at the strange food.
The woman had a practicality about her he could not help but admire. Could it be possible she would not be a burden, but a help? How often had he longed for a companion, for someone to converse with?
But why did it have to be someone so beautiful it made his heart ache to look at her?
“I will get you more water,” he said hastily, then turned away with purpose. His thoughts were inappropriate. His feelings without purpose. Even though Miss Everly expressed no fear of him, no fear of her situation, it was wrong to entertain any thoughts outside of his duty to keep her safe.
Alone as they were, he could do nothing to make her uncomfortable. He had already acted like an oaf, holding her hand, staring at her. Calling her beautiful.
Alejandro muttered to himself about his behavior all the way down the steep hill, rehearing for good measure everything his mother had ever told him about women. She deserved respect, protection, and he had to act with honor on her behalf. It was the duty of every gentleman. No matter the situation.
Even alone on an island in the middle of nowhere, Alejandro had a responsibility toward Miss Everly.
He fetched the water, then made the climb back up the hill. He had nearly convinced himself that he could be more indifferent toward her charms, that he could carry himself with greater formality, when he stepped into the clearing again. The moment his gaze fell upon her, his heart beat with greater force against his chest.
She had finished eating and sat where he had left her, examining the woven basket lid with a most serious expression, her fingertips tracing its edge. She looked up, sensing his return, and a smile lit her face, and the entire clearing, to welcome his return.
Alejandro swallowed back an emotion he would not name and carried the water to her.
6
Though Alejandro wanted Miss Everly to remain beneath the trees, recovering from her ordeal, she refused to rest any longer. Somehow, it did not surprise him. There was a liveliness to her he could not help but admire.
They made their way back to the beach shortly after the sun began its descent. She walked with more certainty in her step, and without taking his hand, which disappointed him despite the way he had lectured himself before.
The cool breeze coming from the ocean kept them from
growing overly warm, but Alejandro tried to direct their path beneath the trees to protect Miss Everly from the sun. Which was ridiculous. She would eventually be exposed to its rays, living on the island. Would the light freckles already upon her cheeks spread, or would her skin bronze as she spent more time in the sun?
He shouldn’t be thinking about it at all.
“It is a beautiful island,” she said, pulling him from his thoughts.
“A beautiful prison,” he said. “I am grateful I am alive. But I hate that I am here.”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded, her eyes sweeping from the beach before them out to the horizon. The woman still held hope that she would find the people she had been with before. Most likely, they had either drowned or left her behind when they could not find her after the storm. They would think her lost, if they survived, and would not come looking for her. As no one had come looking for him.
Measuring his steps to hers, Alejandro did not rush her. Instead, he kept looking for more debris brought up by the storm. There wasn’t much. Just seaweed. Shells. Nothing useful.
They passed the place where he had pulled her out of the waves. The mast and sail waited for him beneath the trees, likely with small creatures attempting to turn the cloth into new homes. Maybe there would be a few crabs for their supper.
They came to where the beach jutted out—the tail of the albatross-shaped island. They rounded the narrow neck of sand between the sea and the trees. Alejandro looked out to sea, a leaping dolphin catching his eye.
“There they are,” Hope said, her voice a joyful shout. “Alejandro! They’re all right.” She briefly turned, grabbing his arm and grinning up into his face.
Saving Miss Everly Page 4
