Abandoned Memories (10 page)

“I lost my father as well,” he said hoping to resurrect the conversation. “Just a few years ago.”

She stopped petting Stowy. “Then you understand.”

“Yes. Though I was much older than you, it was hard nonetheless.”

She nodded but said nothing. He wanted to continue talking…wanted to find that connection they seemed to have earlier. But he couldn’t tell her that he’d been responsible for his father’s death—that he might as well have shot the man himself. Instead he said, “I was not the same person back then.”

This piqued her interest as she swept an attentive gaze his way.

Prompting him to continue. “I’ve done some horrible things that I’m not proud of. Shameful things.”

She didn’t seem surprised, nor did she inquire what things. Instead, she simply stared at him with an odd approval as if he’d just informed her that he bore the bloodline of the prince of Wales.

Angeline could hardly believe James would divulge such information. Yet once he said it, she could hardly stop herself from pressing him to reveal more. Most of her mistrust of the doctor—aside from him being a man, of course—stemmed from their brief encounter over a year ago in a Tennessee tavern. Though she doubted he remembered her, was he now confessing the sins of that night?

“We’ve all made mistakes, Doctor,” she said, releasing Stowy to wander around the branches. “The important thing is that we move past them and become better for them.”

He scrubbed the dark stubble peppering his jaw. “Indeed. And also that we repent and allow God to change our hearts.”

She scoffed inwardly. It was she and she alone who had changed her life. Not God. But she wouldn’t tell James that and start another theological debate.

“So what
were
these sins, exactly?” She raised a brow, half teasing, half desperate to know.

“Ah, who is being overbold now?”

She smiled.

“Drinking.” He hesitated, searching her eyes, then lowered his gaze. “Women.” Was that red crawling up his neck? “Too many of both.”

Memories of him lying on a ratty, stained bed above a tavern that blared and thumped with music and laughter drifted through her mind. He’d been so drunk, he could hardly stand. And covered in blood. Too much to have come from the gash at the side of his mouth. But he’d been kind. And sad. Terribly sad about something. Which is why she remembered him from all the others.

Now, she laid a hand on his and said the words that screamed true within her—words she wanted so desperately to be true. “You are right. You’re not that man anymore.”

This brought his eyes up to search hers, the hope within them conflicting with the pain and despair that had filled them that night long ago. He pressed a thumb on the scar on the right side of his mouth. “Thank you for saying that.”

If only she believed it of herself. Shoving aside her morbid thoughts, she offered him a smile. “And now we both know a secret about the other.”

“Mine is much more incriminating.”

“But safe with me.”

He nodded, and his trust in her caused her heart to swell.

Stowy pounced on James’s leg and began gnawing at his trousers. “Hey, you little rascal!” Clutching the cat, he flipped him on his back and knuckled his tummy. Stowy pawed James’s hand in a mock battle for dominance he was sure to lose.

Watching how gentle and playful James was with Stowy, Angeline’s heart felt lighter than a feather. Perhaps she
could
trust this man. He
had
changed, hadn’t he? He’d made mistakes, but he freely admitted them. And when he could have lied about his past, he’d been honest with her. Besides, hadn’t Angeline changed? Hadn’t this new life in Brazil offered her a second chance? How could she deny the same to James?

Setting Stowy between them, James raised his gaze to hers. A breeze ripe with oranges and mossy earth swirled around them, toying with the hair at his collar as they stared into each other’s eyes, searching, wondering, hoping…daring to trust.

Raising his hand, he cupped her jaw and swept a thumb over her cheek. Angeline’s heart quickened. A tingle ran across her skin. He glanced at her lips and licked his own. And she knew he wanted to kiss her. More than that, she desperately wanted to kiss him back.

HAPTER
9

J
ames! Angeline!” Blake’s baritone shout jarred them apart, drew them embarrassed to the edge of their tree terrace to see their friends combing the jungle below. With an odd reluctance, James had assisted Angeline and Stowy to the ground, ending their precious time together—moments that had given him hope for a promising future.

A hope, however, that was dashed as he now stood beside Hayden and Blake and some of the other colonists before their desolate fields. Where once stalks of sugarcane had poked through fertile ground, where once coffee seedlings budded fresh leaves, now there was naught but barren dirt dotted with bare twigs. Stunned silence shrouded the group, save for the occasional sob from the women and curse from the men.

A few leftover ants skittered about, separated from their army, their fate in the hands of angry colonists who stomped the life from them. One man even pulled a pistol and shot one, causing everyone to jump. Finally, however, when it became obvious no amount of staring would bring back their crops, the group assembled, one by one, in the meeting area, somber and dejected, and—all but James and Angeline—soaked to the bone. Blake stood in front of the crowd, Eliza by his side, while James took a spot beside him, should the leader of the colony need reinforcement.

Yet from the expression on the colonel’s face, he needed much more than reinforcement. He needed encouragement. And hope. Something they all lacked at the moment.

“What are we gonna do, Colonel?” one of the farmers asked before Blake could even begin.

“We are going to plant again,” he responded without hesitation.

The colonists’ groans were silenced by a lift of his hand. “We still have most of the sugar splints. Though the ants stripped them, they didn’t eat them entirely. With some care, they should sprout again. The coffee might too, though we still have some seed if need be.”

“Preposterous!” Mr. Scott, Magnolia’s father, bellowed. “Start over again?”

“But we have no food,” a woman whined.

Eliza stepped forward. “We still have rice and beans. They didn’t eat through the burlap sacks.”

“And we have fish from the river,” Angeline offered.

“And fruit and wild boar from jungle,” Thiago said. “I can teach men to hunt better.”

Mr. Lewis took a swig from his flask and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “All that work wasted.”

“It will be wasted if we give up.” Hayden ran a hand through his moist hair.

“I say we quit and go home,” one of the ex-soldiers shouted, glancing over the mob. “Enough is enough.”

“Besides, how can we pay the emperor what we owe him for the land now?”

“We will pay him when we can pay him,” James said. “Come now, surely you aren’t ready to give up after one setback? Not after all we’ve endured to make it this far.”

Shadows crept out from hiding as the sun lowered in the sky, bringing a breeze that caused many of the colonists to shiver in their wet clothes.

“We’ve had more than our share of trouble,” one man yelled.

Another farmer slapped his hat on his knee. “At least back in Georgia, I wasn’t in debt.”

“But we are still alive!” Angeline said, sharing a smile with James that caused his heart to leap. “No one was hurt. And our huts, tools, and dried food are intact.”

Standing beside his sister, Moses, the freedman, scooped one of her children in his arms. “I says we stay.” His gaze met Mable’s, who stood beside her owner, Mr. Scott.

The elderly man let out a bloated grunt. “And, pray tell, who cares what a slave thinks? I, for one, plan to leave.”

“Freedman, Papa. He’s not a slave anymore.” Magnolia nodded at Moses before turning to her mother, who wrung her hands together in her usual worried fit.

Breaking through the crowd, Patrick Gale sauntered into the clearing like a king surveying his subjects. “True, we expected hardships in this new land, but we certainly didn’t expect complete destruction. I say none of us should feel guilty for leaving now.”

Grunts of assent rang through the air.

James frowned. Of course the man wanted people to leave. Fewer people to stake a claim on his gold. If he ever found any,
and
if he intended to share it with the colony like he promised. Dodd, his partner in the mad treasure quest, sat off to the side, nodding his agreement.

“Go back to what?” Blake shifted weight off his sore leg. “Back to destruction, devastation, and tyranny? Why, I’d rather deal with nature’s blows than man’s, wouldn’t you?”

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?”