Forever Safe (Beacons of Hope) (27 page)

“I don’t feel right about deceiving them any longer,” she said. “Maybe we should tell them everything.”

“No. Dad would kick me out.” Or maybe kill him. Both of his parents loved Victoria without reservation. Yes, she was easy to love. But he had no doubt they’d accepted her because they wanted to support him. If they discovered the depth of his deception, they’d be deeply hurt.

Victoria was studying his face, likely reading his indecision. “We don’t have to deceive them. We can stay together.” Her eyes lit again and the frustrated lines in her face softened. Hope seemed to come so naturally to her. If only he could find hope as easily.

“Please, Tom.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I love you.”

Her words dried his throat and radiated down into his chest, lodging there painfully.

She reached for his hand and her fingers twined around his.

How could he let her go? He closed his eyes and forced back his own declaration of affection for her. He’d gone over this a hundred times in his mind. He was determined to relinquish her, and he had to stay resolute this time.

“I can’t.” He tugged his hand loose but felt as though he were leaving his heart within her grasp. Then he strode away. And he didn’t look back, even though the empty, aching cavity in his chest begged him to.

V
ictoria twisted the wooden cross in her chapped hands. The dark pieces of wreckage were smooth now with the passage of time. How many years had it been since her father had been shipwrecked and fashioned the cross? She guessed at least twenty.

Her father had given the cross to her mother. Eventually her mother had given away the cross too, with an accompanying letter that explained the story behind the cross and the hope found in God.

Over the years, the cross had apparently passed through many different hands, giving hope to all the lives it touched. Then finally, through circumstances that had surely been divinely ordained, Victoria had ended up with the cross during the summer she’d gone with her father to Michigan. A young school teacher by the name of Tessa Taylor had been living in Eagle Harbor, one of the mining towns her father owned. Her father had happened to see Tessa with the cross and had immediately recognized it as the same cross he’d made when he’d been stranded at Presque Isle Lighthouse in Michigan as a young unmarried man. Of course, Tessa had been delighted to return the cross to them, and Victoria had kept it close ever since.

Even though her mother’s original letter had instructed the bearer of the cross to pass it along to someone who needed hope, Victoria hadn’t wanted to part with the treasure. She’d felt as though the cross had come home, that it was hers to keep.

The breeze from the open bedroom window eased her discomfort from the heat just slightly, no more than the cross had eased the pain radiating in her chest.

She’d always believed the cross was supposed to bring her hope. Wasn’t it? At least that’s why her father had designed it all those years ago when he’d been stranded away from his family in the Michigan wilderness after a shipwreck had nearly killed him. It had been his reminder to hope and pray. Of course, all had ended well for her father. He’d met and fallen in love with Mother. They’d gotten married and were still happy together.

Ironically, Victoria had fallen in love and gotten married too, not quite in that order. But apparently she wasn’t destined to have the same happy ending that her parents had found.

With a sigh, she bent down and tucked the cross back into her carpetbag, which she’d packed several days ago after Tom had rejected her love with a finality that had broken her heart. She supposed she’d been harboring hope until then. But when he’d told her that he couldn’t love her in return and had walked away without a backward glance, he’d taken all her hope with him.

Before Jimmy had sailed away, she’d given him a telegram to deliver to the Western Union office in Provincetown, and ever since then she’d been waiting. Every day she had to stay was torture—being near Tom but knowing he didn’t love her or want her as his wife.

She pulled back the curtain to her view of the tower, where he was sitting on his makeshift platform painting for the second day in a row. He’d been avoiding her every bit as much as she was him. He hadn’t slept on the sofa, hadn’t eaten meals with her, hadn’t come to the house for breaks.

James was angry with Tom, and at least once a day she heard him encourage Tom to humble himself and work out his problems with his wife. But Tom remained as silent and unmoving with his dad as he was with her.

He was tense and on high alert, back to his bodyguard role. She suspected he wasn’t getting much sleep. He was always up early in the morning, and she never heard him come in the house at night. Even though his words about expecting the attacker to arrive any day had scared her a little at first, she’d quickly shed her fear. If someone really decided to come all the way to Race Point to attack her, she had no doubt Tom would keep her safe.

When Tom waved to a rusty cutter docking on the waterfront, Victoria’s heart gave a leap. Jimmy had come. Finally. And from the lack of usual supplies weighing down his boat, she knew that he’d come for her.

Even though her pulse pattered with both trepidation and anticipation, she quickly put into place the plan she’d been formulating since she’d sent the telegram. She’d already had her bags mostly packed, so it only took her a matter of seconds to finish stowing away the few toiletries she’d used that morning. As she made her way downstairs, she rehearsed what she would tell Zelma.

“I’m going to Provincetown today,” she said after bending down and kissing Zelma’s head, as she’d grown accustomed to doing in the mornings. But this time she couldn’t meet the perceptive woman’s gaze. “I’ve arranged to visit with some of my friends there.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. She
was
going to Provincetown and meeting with friends. But it was more than a simple visit.

“That sounds like fun, dear,” Zelma said, resting her hand on the open Bible in front of her. Her cup of coffee sat next to the big book. “But surely you know by now that you’re welcome to invite your friends to visit here. I’d love the chance to meet them.”

“You’re too kind.” She couldn’t keep from bending and drawing the dear woman into an embrace. Her hug probably lasted a smidgen too long, because when she finally stood and tried to keep her tears at bay, Zelma’s brows came together.

“Why, Victoria, what’s wrong?”

What wasn’t wrong? She forced a smile and infused cheer into her voice. “I’ll just miss you. That’s all.”

The crease between Zelma’s brows didn’t go away. If anything, the lines in Zelma’s face deepened.

Victoria wanted to say that she loved her, for she truly had grown to love Tom’s parents, even if they were a tad exuberant at times. But if she allowed herself to become even more emotional, she’d only raise Zelma’s suspicions further. Besides, she had no time to waste. She had to reach the cutter before Tom could stop her.

When she chanced one more kiss upon Zelma’s head, the woman reached for her hand and clasped it tightly. For a moment, Zelma looked as though she might say something more. But then she simply smiled, a little too sadly, and let go. “God be with you, dear.”

As Victoria picked up her bag in the hallway and rushed out the front door, guilt trailed her. She tried to shake it loose as she ran down the beach toward Jimmy, who’d just secured the boat. From the corner of her vision, she could see that Tom was lowering himself to the ground. She had no doubt he’d already figured out Jimmy hadn’t come to deliver supplies.

“Victoria,” Tom called. “Stop!”

Without acknowledging him, she continued down the sandy embankment until she reached the dock.

Jimmy welcomed her with a gap-toothed smile that crinkled his brittle face. “Mrs. Cushman, you’re just the person I was hoping to see.”

“Same with you.”

Jimmy dug into his coat pocket and retrieved a folded sheet of paper. “A fancy young gentleman told me to give this to you. He paid me good money to make sure that I put it directly into your hands and none other. And he told me he’d pay me double to give you a ride into Provincetown today.”

Victoria took the paper with shaking hands. She was glad Nathaniel had followed her instructions and hadn’t insisted on coming to get her himself. She wasn’t sure how she would have explained his presence to Zelma.

As it was, she had to convince Jimmy to leave right away without lingering for his usual meal. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Tom was almost to the ground. From the slant of his brows, she could see that he was frustrated.

“I’m ready to go.” She tossed her bag into the boat and began to climb in.

“Whoa there.” Jimmy caught her and eased her down. “What’s your hurry?”

“It’s such a lovely day for a ride.”

Jimmy’s weathered face wrinkled. “You’re going to cry?”

She shook her head, even though he was close to the truth. She did feel like crying. “I’m fine. I’ll just miss being here.”

Jimmy’s expression remained confused. “Kiss him here?”

“Kiss who?”

“Eh?” This time Jimmy put his hand to his ear, and she realized he hadn’t understood a word she’d spoken.

“Victoria, don’t leave,” Tom called, sprinting toward the boat. He was attired in the work clothes that he’d worn since arriving to Race Point. Several buttons were undone on the shirt, and paint stains dotted his trousers.

She hadn’t expected to be able to leave without Tom making an effort to stop her. But now that she was in the boat, the only way he could get her out was by bodily lifting her against her will. “I’m going and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

His boots clomped across the dock until he towered over her, his shadow dwarfing her.

“You asked Nathaniel to come get you. He’s waiting in Provincetown. And is planning to take you home.”

He was right. As usual. “Does it matter?” She arranged her skirt around her legs and refused to look up at him.

“Yes, it matters.”

Her head snapped up, and she was embarrassed by her desire to hear him tell her that
she
mattered, that he didn’t want her to go, that he didn’t want to lose her. If he would but say the words she would stay. She would climb out and never leave him.

The muscles in his jaw flexed, and he rubbed a hand across his eyes, as though trying to block her out. “Victoria,” he said in a soft agonized voice. “Don’t do this. You’re making things harder.”

“How?”

“It’s easier to watch for the attacker here.”

Disappointment rushed through her. He hadn’t changed his mind. He truly didn’t want her to stay for himself.

“Jimmy,” she called to the old fisherman who stood at the stern, his wide-eyed gaze flying back and forth between her and Tom. “I’m ready to go.”

“I’m going with you,” Tom stated. “But I need to change out of these old clothes first.”

She shrugged. She’d suspected he wouldn’t let her sail away unless he came along. Even if he didn’t love her and didn’t want her, he’d never shirk his responsibilities as long as he was her bodyguard.

Tom glanced at the house as though debating whether he should chance leaving her with Jimmy.

She released a humorless laugh. “You surely don’t think Jimmy will hurt me.”

“Of course not. But I’m worried that you’ll sway him into starting off without me.”

“If I do, you’ll just chase me down.”

“True.”

“Then go change and say goodbye to your mom. I’ll wait.”

He was back in less than five minutes, wearing his dark navy trousers and matching suit coat over a white shirt. They were slightly wrinkled, and the day-old growth on his jaw and cheeks was out of place, but otherwise he looked sharp and gentlemanly and much too handsome.

He helped Jimmy prepare for their departure, and once they were underway, she was surprised when Tom took the seat next to her. With the sun shining down on them and the spray of salt water hitting the cutter, she was reminded of their ride out to Race Point, of the attraction that had already been building between them, of the promises and possibilities the month would bring.

If only she didn’t feel as though she were returning as a failure, that somehow she’d ruined her marriage and wasn’t enough for him.

He didn’t say anything for most of the journey. Even though she was tempted to engage him in conversation, she refrained. She’d said all she had to say earlier in the week when he’d given her the telegrams. She’d poured out her heart in one last desperate attempt to win him. But he’d rejected her with a finality that told her he’d already made up his stubborn mind, that nothing she could say or do would sway him.

“I wish you would have waited,” he said quietly as the cutter moved into the bay and the outline of Provincetown grew visible on the shore.

“I’ve waited long enough. If someone was really planning to attack me again, don’t you think they would have found me by now?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe you’re overly worried about this whole affair. Maybe bringing me all the way out here wasn’t necessary. Maybe I would have been fine staying in Newport all along.”