Elusive Hope (26 page)

A tiny line formed between her brows. She studied him as if he were an oddity. James swallowed. Splendid. If running from the pulpit at church hadn’t convinced her he was utterly mad, surely his present ramblings were proof enough.

A fish leapt from the lake, drawing Stowy to the edge. Was it overly hot today? Sweat moistened James’s neck and arms, and he had a sudden desire to jump into the water. Even better, jump in with Angeline. The thought did nothing to cool him off.

She approached, the hem of her skirts scraping over hot sand. “I assume Eliza told you about Mr. Dodd.” She raised a hand, shielding her face from the sun and darkening her eyes to deep lavender. Soothing, entrancing lavender.

“He hasn’t done anything except stare at me and make me uncomfortable,” she continued. “Let’s hope his hunt for gold keeps him otherwise occupied.”

“Indeed.”

“But I thank you for your concern, Doctor.”

She was so close he could smell the lye soap from washing clothes and her own sweet scent that reminded him of coconut. He cleared his throat, trying to clear his head as well.

“I do see that perhaps my concern for your safety has been exaggerated.” He pointed toward the pistol stuffed in her belt. “I’ve never seen a lady draw a weapon so quickly. Where did the daughter of a shipwright learn such a skill?”

Angeline couldn’t tell James that she’d learned how to load and shoot a pistol the hard way. That she’d had to defend herself against the worst possible monster. After that, it had been a matter of survival. “Oh, here and there.” She offered him a coy smile, hoping he’d let the topic drop. Stowy jumped onto a rock at the edge of the lake and began swatting at fish swimming beneath the water.

“I also understand you had a disturbing vision,” the doctor said, drawing her gaze back to him.

Those eyes, such a magnificent shade of bronze, exuded a strength equal to the metal itself. Somehow that made her feel safe in his presence. That and the way thick muscles in his chest flexed beneath his gray shirt. Power and strength that could subdue any villain. Power and strength she could have used three years ago. Power and strength coupled with the concern pouring from his expression that could have saved her a lifetime of misery.

Her pulse raced. She forced it to slow. James was not who he seemed. She must remember that.

“The vision, Miss Angeline?” He lowered his gaze to hers and stared at her quizzically.

“Yes. Forgive me. I did see something. But it was dark and late and I was very tired.”

“Would it surprise you to know that I, too, saw a vision? That morning a week ago when I ran out on my sermon.”

So that would explain his odd behavior. At the time she’d thought he’d become ill. “I couldn’t imagine what had gone wrong.”

“You haven’t been back to church since. I feared I frightened you away.” A burst of wind tossed a strand of his wheat-colored hair into his face. She longed to reach up and ease it aside.

“I told you I’m not much for religion.” She lowered her gaze and saw the pink scar on her arm. Horrified, she unrolled her sleeves to cover it before James noticed. She didn’t need any more questions she couldn’t answer without lying.

But he must have seen it for he rubbed his own scar—the one on his cheek that angled down the side of his mouth like an oversized dimple. “Do say you’ll come back to church. I promise not to become a babbling fool again.”

How could she resist such a boyish smile? “I will make an attempt.” She straightened the cuffs of her sleeves, wanting to know more about this man. Wanting to know why he was so different from the man she’d met a year ago. “May I ask what you saw in
your
vision?”

James turned and stepped toward the river. The mad rush of water surrounded them, drowning out the ever present buzz of the jungle. Sorrow darkened his eyes and formed tiny lines at the edges. Finally he answered, “It was a young corporal who died on my operating table during the war.”

Angeline’s stomach tightened. She had seen someone from her past as well. And so had Eliza. “From the ship before we even arrived, Eliza saw her dead husband standing on shore.”

James faced her. “And Blake has seen someone too.”

“Perhaps it is just the strain of moving to a different country, eating unfamiliar food, starting a new colony.” Angeline would not allow for any other possibility. She couldn’t. New Hope was her last chance at a normal life.

A cloud swallowed up the sun. “Being the preacher, I feel responsible for the emotional wellbeing of the townspeople. And these odd visions reek of something amiss in the spiritual realm.”

Angeline stifled her laughter. Not at the man himself. No, James was nothing to laugh at. He was all man and strength and wisdom. It was his insistence on being a spiritual leader that gave her pause. She stared into those bronze eyes, so clear now. Yet only a year ago, those same eyes had stared at her, glazed and murky, as she’d led him upstairs to her room.

Taking a step back from him, she fingered the ring dangling on a chain around her neck—her father’s ring. The only man she had ever trusted.

If James had truly changed and become a godly man, he wouldn’t want to associate with the likes of her.

And if he hadn’t, Angeline had had enough of lying, hypocritical men to last a lifetime.

C
HAPTER
21

A
rather obtuse insect of epic proportions and sporting a pair of orange wings had decided he loved Magnolia more than any creature in the jungle. He’d been following her for hours, buzzing about her face, trying to get her attention, looking for a place to land where he could shower her with his affections which, no doubt, would be in the form of some vile bug ooze. Which, of course, she couldn’t possibly allow. So, she’d been swatting at him all day, and trying to stab him with the tip of her parasol, until her arms ached and her frustration was about to burst.

Hayden had reverted into being a toad again. For two days he’d barely said the same number of words to her. He’d been polite. He had provided for her. Mercy me, he’d even carried her valise, but whenever she tried to engage him in conversation, he replied with nonsensical grunts and groans. Did all men revert to barbarians when living in the wild?

She swung her closed parasol at the fawning bug again just as Hayden, marching in front of her, shoved aside a large leaf and released it. The green monster descended on her as if the sky had changed from blue to jade and was crashing to earth. It slapped her face and swaddled her in suffocating foliage.

Sputtering, she coughed and thrust it away, her insides seething. “How kind of you.”

He grunted.

The only reason she could find for his rude behavior was that he’d seen her horrifying reflection in the mirror and was completely repulsed. Yet he’d claimed she looked the same. Perhaps he was lying, though she couldn’t think of a single reason for that. Fine, if he wanted to be so shallow as to not even talk to her because of her appearance, then she didn’t want to talk to him either. Oh, mercy me, was she truly old and ugly? She hadn’t looked in the mirror since that night. Didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to know. She hoped it was just a bad dream—a delusion her mind had conjured from what that demented, shriveled-up woman had said. Surely that was it. But if so, what was wrong with Hayden? Magnolia knew she wasn’t useful around camp. She couldn’t even light a fire or catch a fish or build a shelter. She was worthless. As usual. And now, without her beauty, what good was she? That had to be the reason for his disdain. He couldn’t still be angry about the money. After all, he’d lied to her as well! If not for him, she’d be on a ship right now enjoying the fresh ocean breezes, not being smothered by air as thick as syrup.

Wiping perspiration from her neck, she gazed up at the canopy, a lattice of vines and branches and leaves over which skittered hundreds of birds, monkeys, and crawly things that she preferred would stay above. A swarm of white butterflies flitted among the foliage like a band of tiny angels sent to keep watch on God’s creation. She wished that were so, for at least then someone would know how miserable she was.

Hayden tromped in front of her, his hair tied behind him. The sound of his boots crunching on dry leaves rose in a steady, soothing cadence. His damp shirt clung to muscles that rippled across his shoulder and down his back with each graceful move. Unfortunately, being right behind him, Magnolia could hardly avoid such an alluring sight—alluring and hypnotizing and warming down to her toes. She realized she felt safe with this man—a man who was nothing at all like her Samuel. Samuel, who always dressed in the latest fashion from the heels of his leather Congress shoes to the top of his silk hat. His short-cropped hair was never out of place, his face always stubble-free, his movements so refined they could be considered dandyish.

Completely opposite from the wolfish gait of the man before her.

She drew in a breath of sweet jungle air, remembering Samuel’s impeccable manners and how he always smelled of cedar oil and cigars.

The pesky bug swooped down upon her again. She shrieked.

In a move so quick she had no time to react, Hayden spun around, gun in hand, cocked it, and fired.

Magnolia squeezed her eyes shut, her one thought being that perhaps she’d been premature in her feelings that she was safe with this man.

Shock buzzed through her as the smell of gunpowder stung her nose. No pain seared her body. Her head felt intact. Her heart still beat. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see Hayden shoving the gun into his belt. He gave a wink before he continued onward.

“You”—she struggled to find a voice but it felt as if it had been shot clean through—“could have killed me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Why did you do that?” She stumbled after him, glancing around for the bug that, no doubt, had been blown to pieces.

“I was tired of hearing you moan and groan every few minutes.”

“Well, mercy me, I’m sorry to have disturbed you, but since you make me keep up with your impossible pace and won’t give me a moment’s rest to catch my breath or take a drink, you are bound to hear a little moaning from time to time.” She swept a large vine aside with her parasol, shrinking back at the colorful lizard scampering up it. “I’m doing the best any lady could do under the circumstances.”

He continued onward. “Perhaps if you remove that cage you wear under your skirts, your gown won’t scrape against the branches as much.”

Ugh. She wanted to swat him with her parasol. Instead, she burst into tears. “And you won’t even speak to—” She barreled into him, realizing he’d stopped.

His hand was raised; his dark brows dipped. Only then did she notice the normal hum of the jungle had quieted, replaced by a crackling sound. It sizzled all around them yet seemed to come from nowhere. “What—?” Hayden laid a finger on her lips, silencing her. His body stiffened. He scanned the tangle of green. His gaze froze while his chest rose and fell like a ship in stormy seas. “Did you see that?” he whispered.

“No. What?”

“Not what, who,” he mumbled before rubbing his eyes and starting forward again, his steps cautious. After a few minutes the crackling ceased and the thrum of the jungle returned. Tension spilled from Magnolia’s shoulders. The last time she’d heard that sound, Martin—the fiend who’d destroyed her life—had appeared out of nowhere. And she was in no mood to deal with him.

Within an hour, the sound of rushing water drew them to a stream cutting through a narrow gorge. Steep, moss-covered cliffs rose on two sides where cascades of water plunged some sixty feet over bare rocks, splashing into deep pools at the base. With no more than a “stay here,” Hayden went off in search of fruit, leaving Magnolia to stare at the refreshing pond. She longed to disrobe and plunge beneath its swirling waters, but Hayden could return at any moment. Instead, she settled for removing her stockings and shoes and dipping her feet in the cool liquid. The reflection of her legs bounced off the water in squiggly lines and a frightening idea occurred to her. If she hung her head over the water, what would her face look like now? Had she simply been delirious with exhaustion two nights ago? After one quick glance over her shoulder, she leaned over the calm pool.