Abandoned Memories (28 page)

“Always.” She knew she shouldn’t have said that. She knew she should keep her feelings to herself. But something broke free within her. Maybe it was all the near-death disasters the colony had suffered, maybe it was Dodd’s coma, maybe it was the hope she saw in James’s eyes. A hope she felt mirrored in her own.

Lydia grabbed Angeline’s hair and tugged. She winced as James peeled back the chubby fingers to free the strands. Then relieving her of the child, he hoisted the baby in his arms and stood, twirling her around and around until she giggled so hard it made them both laugh. Angeline stared, mesmerized, at the child cradled in James’s arms, her tiny hand splayed over his rounded biceps. He tickled her gently, and she laughed and drooled on his shirt.

He glanced at Angeline and smiled, and she wondered what it would be like to have children with such a man.

Oh God, if You’re up there and You listen to women like me, please, please, don’t let Dodd wake up
.

HAPTER
24

I
t’s the beast,
Destruction
.” James glanced over the colonists and the few pirates who had assembled the following evening around the fire. “He caused the windstorm. I’m sure of it.”

Snorts and chuckles ensued.

“Pshaw!” one colonist said.

Ricu planted his hands on his waist. “Ridículo! I should not told you my tale.”

James had not expected—nor wanted—Ricu to join their meeting, but he was not in a position to stop the man from doing much of anything. Still, his presence would only make what James had to say more difficult.

Hayden looked up from whittling a piece of wood. “We knew about the beasts before you got here, Captain.”

From Magnolia’s lap beside him, Lydia flailed her chubby hands in the air and yelped in agreement.

“Humph!” Ricu uttered a curse, lifted his hand, and snapped his fingers. One of the pirates placed a white handkerchief in his grip. The captain studied it intently before dabbing it over his neck and forehead. Firelight glinted off his jewel-pinned waistcoat.

James gestured toward the pirate’s ship anchored several yards offshore. “How do you explain your ship? Not a sail torn, not a timber rent. No damage at all from the wind.”

“And the water was as smooth as glass during the storm,” Angeline said, petting Stowy. “I saw it.”

Ricu scratched his whiskers and studied his ship, fading with the setting sun, before offering only a grunt in response.

“
Destruction
or not, we lost what little we had left,” one of the ex-soldiers said.

“All that remains are some clothes, a couple of pails and baskets, a wagon and some tools,” the blacksmith grumbled.

“And our lives,” Eliza offered.

Moses added his “Amen,” drawing the scowls of some. He stood beside Mable and slipped his hand in hers, making sure the Scotts couldn’t see them from where they stood at the edge of the crowd, arm in arm, looking much older than their fifty-some years.

James smiled at the freedman. In fact he was smiling a lot these past few days. And all because of the alluring russet-haired beauty sitting on a stump beside him. Since the windstorm, something had changed for the better between them. He had no idea why, but he wasn’t complaining. She gazed at him now, her eyes sparkling in the firelight and a smile curving her lips. And he found he didn’t care whether they had no shelter or food or whether invisible beasts attacked them or pirates kept them prisoner. If Angeline continued to look at him like that, he could survive whatever came his way.

“Indeed.” A cool breeze struck them as Blake stepped before the group. “We are all alive and have plenty of food. We should thank God for that.”

“Some Southern utopia,” a lady muttered under her breath.

Mr. Jenkins, a bandage wrapped around his arm, stood and cast a wary glance toward Ricu before turning to Blake. “There ain’t nothing for us here, and you said the emperor might be obliged to relocate us.”

“I don’t want to start over on another plot of land in this dreadful jungle,” another man said. “I just want to go home. Back to the States.”

“Here, here,” two people shouted at the same time.

“Ah, and with a quick stop at Rio de Janeiro,” one woman added with a dreamy sigh. “What I wouldn’t give to sleep on a bed again.”

“And have a new gown made,” Magnolia agreed but was instantly silenced by a look from Hayden.

James exchanged a glance with Blake. That was their plan. If the pirates ever released them, they would travel to Rio, take out a loan from the emperor, and purchase new supplies and a new plot of land. But that couldn’t happen until the pirates left. And the pirates wouldn’t leave without their gold. And James couldn’t allow them to find it and release the final beast. If that fourth monster were freed—from what James had interpreted in the Hebrew book—it wouldn’t matter where they went. Life would never be the same anywhere on the planet. But how to explain that to people who, though they’d witnessed the same things James and his friends had, thought the notion of invisible beasts utterly ridiculous?

Captain Ricu emitted a growl that would stir the hairs on a bear. “I say who leaves and who not leaves! If you go Rio, you will tell about gold.”

“Ah, let them go, Captain,” Patrick pushed his way through the crowd and gave Ricu a smile as if they were the best of friends. “They won’t tell anyone. Who would believe them anyway? Look at them.” He waved a hand over the group, his nose wrinkling. “They look like beggars and wastrels. And if they do say anything, by the time anyone gets here, you’ll have dug up your treasure and been long gone.”

Hayden shook his head at his father’s performance and continued his whittling. What did Patrick hope to accomplish by siding with pirates? Did he actually believe they would hand over any of their gold to him? No, Patrick was many things, but he was not stupid. The charlatan was up to something. But what?

“I need men to help dig,” Ricu returned, fingering the butt of a pistol stuffed in his belt as he scanned the colonists, no doubt seeking strong men he hadn’t yet worn to a frazzle. For the past four days, he’d selected five of their men and dragged them to the tunnels. And each day they’d returned hungry and parched and covered in cuts and bruises. James wondered why he hadn’t yet been chosen. Perhaps because Ricu knew he was a doctor and thought it best to keep him uninjured. Hayden had already gone twice, poor man.

The pirate captain drew his blade. “Tomorrow I take you, you, you, you”—he pointed the tip toward each man in turn, the baker, two ex-soldiers, Blake—“and you.” Jenkins the farmer.

The chosen men’s expressions dropped.

“
Capitão
, why not bring all the men?” One of the pirates rubbed his shoulder and winced.

“No room in tunnels. Too many to guard.” Sheathing his sword, Ricu gazed out at his ship, the silhouette barely discernible in the shadows. “We will get gold soon.” He sneered at the colonists. “Then I think about if I let you go.” He waved his hand in the air, the lace at his cuffs fluttering in the breeze. And without another word, he turned and marched away, joining his fellow marauders already well into their cups down shore.

An eerie howl, more heartrending than frightening emanated from the jungle, drawing all eyes to the green fortress just yards away.

Hayden tossed another log on the fire. Sparks shot into the darkening skies.

“Wish they’d at least share their spirits,” one man grumbled.

A cry for help, followed by “Doctor, Doctor!” shrieked from down the beach as Sarah flew at the group in a flurry of fear and hysteria.

She yanked on James’s arm. “Thiago is much worse!”

And worse he was. His skin flamed. His breathing was ragged, and the wound in his chest had turned green and smelled putrid. Infection had set in. And James had no medicine. Nothing to give him at all.

The man fluttered his eyes open as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Sweat glued his black hair to his head and neck. His chest rose and fell like erratic waves at sea as he tossed over the sand in discomfort. Finally, he settled and his hazy gaze landed on James.

“Am I to die, Doc?” Thiago’s voice came out weak and raspy.

James swallowed. One thing he swore he’d never do was lie to his patients. He had never done so in the war, and he wasn’t about to now. “Unless a miracle happens…I’m sorry.”

Sarah broke into sobs, and Thiago turned his head toward her. “No tears for me, sweet Sarah.” She took his hand and raised it to her lips. James knew the couple had grown close. He just hadn’t realized
how
close. His heart hung like a huge boulder in his chest as Eliza continued to dab a cool cloth on Thiago’s forehead while Magnolia sat nearby, looking stunned. James rose just as Blake and Hayden arrived. He shook his head at their questioning looks. Then ignoring their anguished expressions, he stormed out of the clinic and kicked sand with his boot. “Truss it!”

“Don’t blame yourself.” Blake followed him. “It’s not your fault.”

James held up his hands and looked at his friends with disgust. “Maybe if I had been the one to operate on him, he’d have a chance.”

A night breeze tossed Hayden’s hair in his face and he jerked it aside. “And maybe not.” He gripped James’s arm. “Magnolia tells me you instructed them as well as if it were your hands doing the fixing.” Jerking from him, James took up a pace, rubbing the back of his neck. “If only I had some vinegar or mercury. Anything to treat him.”

“Have you tried praying?” Blake asked as James passed him.

“Did you
see
him?” James halted. “He’s beyond prayer.”

“No one is beyond prayer,” Hayden said.

James shook his head. He had never considered praying. Not once. And he was the colony’s preacher! Shame doused him as he charged back into the clinic, Hayden and Blake on his heels. He gave a cursory glance at poor Dodd lying alone on the other side of the bamboo structure before dropping beside the Brazilian once again. He would pray for Dodd later. Right now, he laid a hand on Thiago’s shoulder. “God, please heal this man. Like You did in the days of old. I command this infection to depart from him so he will live and know You. In Christ Jesus’ name, we ask. Amen.”

The others mumbled, “Amen.”

Though she offered him a smile, even pious Sarah seemed skeptical. Minutes later, instead of a miraculous recovery, Thiago began to cough up blood.

HAPTER
25

T
hiago didn’t die that night. Nor the next. In fact, after three days, he still barely hung to life with the thinnest of threads. Angry at God, angry at himself, James did the only thing he knew to do. He grabbed the Hebrew book and his father’s Bible and headed into the jungle away from the incriminating glances that labeled him a failure at both doctoring and pastoring. Lowering himself to sit on a boulder by his favorite creek, he gazed up at the canopy where colorful birds engaged in a dance equal in style and grace to any waltz back home. A blue lizard skittered up a tree while a frog croaked from somewhere near the water. The gentle ripple of the creek soothed his ears, a welcome change from the boom and sizzle of waves. A glint caught his gaze, and he looked up to see a spiderweb that spanned between two trees, its silky threads sparkling in a ray of sunshine. A tiny black spider sat in the corner awaiting his prey. No doubt it had taken him days, even weeks, to spin such a magnificent web. Such patience, such ingenuity. All to trap some unsuspecting victim.

Is that what the fallen angelic beasts were doing to the colonists? Luring them into their web with the glint of gold? James released a heavy sigh, set his father’s Bible aside, and opened the Hebrew book to the place he’d marked. Why, oh why, had God entrusted the fate of the colony, maybe even the world—if he were reading things correctly—to a failure like James? He had to do better. He had to work faster. The answer to stopping the beasts was in this book, and he had to find it.

After two hours of interpreting, James had achieved little more than an achy back, tired eyes, and sweaty skin. He slapped a mosquito that landed on his arm, wondering if he was wasting his time. But he
had
learned one thing: the name of the fourth beast—
Depravity
. He’d also learned that once
Depravity
was released, all four beasts would not be restricted to this small section of Brazil. Instead, they’d be free to travel the world, wreaking havoc and destroying lives wherever they went. He’d suspected as much from prior hints in the text, but now he knew for sure.

He knew another thing for sure. They had to stop
Depravity
from being freed.

Pondering why God would allow such awful beasts—or fallen angels or whatever they were—to be free in the first place, James set the book aside and knelt by the creek, splashing water on his face and neck. Sitting back, he opened his father’s Bible and ran fingers over the pages. Oh, how his father had loved this Book. Not a day had passed when James had not seen him sitting by the hearth absorbing its words as if his very breath depended on them. James had read the Bible too. When he’d had time. And of course his father had forced him to study it, training his son to become a preacher. But James had never been quite in awe of the Holy Scripture as his father had been. Perhaps that had been his problem all along. Yet now, could the answer to his current dilemma with the beasts be found within?

Flipping to the Gospel of Matthew, he started reading when crackling sounds tightened his nerves. A woman’s voice, cooing his name, made his blood run cold. He brought his gaze up to see Abigail Miller, standing in the middle of the creek, water up to her neck, golden locks floating like silk atop the liquid. She smiled, that sultry smile that used to melt his insides but now made them turn into slime.

“You’re not here.” Setting the Bible down, he stood and rubbed his eyes.

“Of course I am.” She started for him, water slipping off her like the layers of clothing she had shed for him on many a night. When she reached the shore, her wet chemise molded every curve of her glistening skin. He turned away, cursing his body for reacting even as disgust soured his mouth.