Undaunted Hope (24 page)

“I didn't think you'd ever want to see me again.” Josie's coat hung too loosely over her frame.

Conditions were worse than Tessa had realized. Fresh worry flooded her at the thought of how hungry Alex and Michael must be if everyone else was suffering so badly.

Tessa squeezed Josie's shoulder, the bones underneath protruding against her fingers. “I forgive you, Josie.” The words came easily, and Tessa felt free once she'd said them.

“I didn't mean for Mr. Updegraff to find out.” The words rushed out as Josie lifted her guilt-ridden eyes. “But he threatened
to tell my mamm about my new beau if I didn't answer his questions about your relationship with the lightkeepers.”

“He didn't hurt you, did he?”

Josie shook her head.

“Good, because if he did, I would have had to blacken his other eye.” She wanted to lighten the situation, to show Josie the grace she herself hadn't received long ago after her mistake.

Josie didn't smile, but instead hung her head further. “You don't have to be nice to me, Miss Taylor. I don't deserve it.”

Tessa reached out and touched Josie's chin and lifted her face so that the girl had to look into her eyes. “I made mistakes in my past too, Josie. The important thing is to learn from them and to move forward and do better the next time.”

Josie nodded. After another silent moment, she brought her hand out from behind her back and held out several glistening trout that were still wiggling on the line strung through their gills. “These are for you. Dad and the boys caught them this morning.”

Tessa shook her head. “No, you take them to your family—”

“Mamm will slap me senseless if I return with them.”

“But you're hungry too.”

“She's worried about you and the children.”

“Tell her we're surviving.” Tears rose quickly at the thought of Nadine's concern. She hadn't expected it, but thanked the Lord for Nadine's willingness to reach out to her and reassure her that she cared in spite of learning about Tessa's past.

“She said if you don't need them,” Josie said, peeking out the crack in the door again, “that maybe you could find a way to get them to Alex and Michael.”

Tessa nodded. “I'll cook them up and take them to Alex and Michael today.”

Josie hesitated as if she wanted to say more but didn't know how to start.

Tessa waited patiently.

“I have to go,” Josie finally said. She opened the door slowly and looked around.

“Be careful, Josie,” Tessa warned. “Don't let anyone see you.”

“You don't have to worry about anyone seeing me. Remember, I'm the expert at sneaking around.”

Tessa smiled, but Josie had already slipped outside where she disappeared among the shadows.

Alex stared at the bars that covered the lone window in the door. He'd already tried a hundred times to find a way to escape. But apparently Percival had built the cell more compactly than a copper penny. The brick walls didn't budge. The door was a solid unshakable slab. The ceiling was hard and plastered.

The room was dank, the only light coming from the window in the door. The stench from the chamber pot mingled with the odor of mildew growing on the floor and walls. At the moment, however, the constant gnawing ache in his stomach had taken his mind from the foulness of the place. He could think of little but his hunger, which hadn't been appeased by the few small morsels Samuel had handed them through the window. The water bucket in the corner was nearly empty now, and he'd begun to ration it for fear that Percival wouldn't refill it.

Michael lay on a pallet on the floor, his eyes closed, his chest barely rising and falling. Alex had tried to give Michael the greater share of the water and food, but Michael had stubbornly refused until finally last night they'd had another fight. Alex berated Michael once again for getting involved the night of the fire. If only
Michael had stayed back at the lighthouse. If only Michael hadn't stepped forward to stop him from hitting Percival. If only Michael hadn't said anything at all and stayed out of the whole affair.

Alex heaved a sigh and leaned his head back against the wall. The
if only
s played through his head numerous times every day, a futile litany. He couldn't change anything now. The only thing he could do was make sure Michael survived, and then once they finally had some semblance of law besides Percival, he'd plead Michael's innocence.

“You're worrying again,” Michael said in a hoarse whisper.

“I've got to think of some way to save you.”

Michael opened one of his eyes a crack. “Stop trying to be my savior.”

Anger and frustration wound through Alex's gut. “Maybe if you tried saving yourself, then I wouldn't need to.”

Michael closed his eyes again and resumed his shallow breathing.

Alex shifted his legs away from the cold floor and brought them up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them to keep himself from reaching out to Michael and yanking him up. He wanted to yell at his brother, hit him, and force him to agree to fight for his survival.

Instead he had to sit back and watch Michael waste away. For once, there was nothing he could do to help Michael. He was utterly powerless to rescue his brother this time.

“You can't always make things better for me.” Michael's voice was stronger and startled Alex with its clarity. “I've relied on you a lot since Rachel died. Maybe too much at times.”

“I've wanted to be there for you,” Alex assured him. “That's what family's for.”

“You've been a blessing to me, Alex.” Michael opened both
eyes and shifted his head sideways so that he was looking directly at his brother. “I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me these past years.”

Alex swallowed a sudden lump of emotion. “There's no need for thanks—”

“Yes, there is. I've been a cad for not letting you know how much I appreciate all you've done. You've sacrificed a lot for me and the children.”

“You've told me thanks plenty of times.”

“But not like this. Not for putting your life on hold so that you could help fix mine.”

For a moment, Alex couldn't think of a suitable response. He had to admit, he was touched that Michael was acknowledging all his sacrifices. Of course, he hadn't done any of it for accolades. He'd meant what he said about not needing any thanks. It was satisfying, though, to know that everything he'd done had meant something to Michael.

“The thing is,” Michael continued, “I'm not the same man I was when Rachel died.”

“You're not?” Alex didn't see much change.

“No. I'm working on changing,” Michael said as if reading Alex's mind. “I'm making more of an effort. And now I think it's time for you to stop putting your life on hold for my sake.”

“I'm not putting my life on hold,” Alex said quickly. “This is where I want to be.” He grinned and glanced around the cell. “Well, I don't actually want to be
here
, but you know what I mean. I want to be with you—with family. I don't want to be anywhere else.”

Michael pushed himself up on one elbow and his expression tightened. “I also think it's time for me to stop relying on you so much and try to make it on my own.”

Alex felt his grin fade. “Why would you want to make it on your own? We make a great team.”

“I rely on you too much. Sometimes I wonder if I can even make it now without you.”

“You've got two kids and a full-time job. Of course you need my help. That's only natural.”

Michael's brows furrowed above sad eyes.

“Like I said,” Alex continued, “family helps family. That's the way God intended it. That's what Dad always did, and that's what I'm going to do.”

“And like
I
said, I appreciate it. I'm grateful for all you've done these past years. But . . .”

“But what?”

“But I've got to start standing on my own two feet.”

Alex shook his head. “So that's why you've been flat on your back all week, Michael? Sprawled out on that pallet like you're about to die.”

“I'm conserving energy.”

Alex snorted.

Michael grinned and fell back against the floor with an
oomph
.

Alex sat back and tried to ease the tension from his shoulders, the tension that had been building with each passing day of watching Michael grow weaker and more listless. He didn't quite know what to make of everything Michael was saying. Was Michael rejecting him, or was he finally starting to think and feel again instead of going through the motions of life?

Unsteady footsteps in the hallway outside the cell alerted him to Samuel's approach. After several more seconds, Samuel's bald head and fleshy face filled the window. “Are you still there?” he asked.

Hidden in the shadows, Alex supposed Samuel had a hard
time seeing inside the cell. For a second he debated pretending that they weren't there anymore. Maybe then Samuel would open the door to investigate. Alex could wrestle Samuel down, and they could break free.

One glance at the worry in Samuel's innocent eyes made Alex put the thought out of his mind. He couldn't hurt Samuel.

“We're still here, Samuel,” he said as he would to Ingrid.

Samuel turned and spoke to someone behind him. “They're still here.” His voice was raspy, as though he'd tried to whisper, yet it was as loud as his normal speaking voice.

The other person whispered back, but Alex couldn't decipher the words.

“Percival told me that the prisoners couldn't have any visitors,” Samuel said in that same voice, which told Alex he was indeed trying to whisper. “He said absolutely no visitors.”

“I'm not a visitor,” the return whisper was louder. “I'm a friend.”

The voice belonged to Tessa. Even in a whisper, he could tell it was hers.

His heart gave a leap, and he bolted off the floor. In two strides he was at the little window in the door. “Tessa?” He gripped the bars and peered through them, needing to see her face and hear her voice.

She wriggled in front of Samuel, pushing his bulk out of the way. In an instant her face replaced his at the window. “Alex?” At the sight of him, a smile filled her green eyes and radiated throughout her face, making her more beautiful than he remembered.

He couldn't stop from reaching through the bars and touching her cheek. Her skin was soft and fresh, unlike his grimy face that hadn't been washed or shaved in over a week.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes searching his face, eagerly taking him in.

“You can't do that,” Samuel said from behind Tessa, the anxiety in his voice making it even louder. “You have to keep your hands inside the cell.”

Alex moved his fingers to her hair, to the dark wavy strands. He skimmed the silkiness, unable to get enough of her, starved for far more than food. For a few seconds he forgot all about Samuel's fretting. It was just the two of them again. And this time he wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he couldn't stand the thought of his life without her and would do anything to be with her.

“You have to hurry!” Samuel's voice had grown frantic. “You have to hurry before Percival comes back.”

Tessa glanced over her shoulder. When she looked back at him, sadness and worry had replaced the joy of their reunion. “How are you, Alex?” she asked.

“I'm fine. How are you and the children?”

“We miss you.” There was something bright and intense in her gaze, something there that sent ripples through his stomach. Was it love?

“We miss you too.” Whether or not she loved him, he couldn't deny that he loved her. He loved her more than anything else in his life. He didn't care if she could see it in his eyes at that moment. Not when he might not see her again. Not when he might not live through another week.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” Samuel chanted.

Tessa frowned as she retrieved some items out of a basket she was carrying. “Here,” she said, holding them up to the barred window. “Nadine sent me some trout this morning to give to you and Michael.”

“You and the children eat it.” He refused to take it from her,
even though the scent of freshly baked fish wafted up and made his knees go weak.

“We're getting along fine with the supplies in the pantry,” she insisted, pushing a small package between the bars. When he didn't take it, she let it fall to the floor and then pushed another package through.

“We can't take it—”

Ignoring his words, she shoved another bundle into the cell, then another. Finally she looked at him again. Her eyes were fierce with determination, the determination he loved about her. “Don't give up.” She reached through the bars and cupped his cheek. “Please don't give up.”

He grabbed her hand and pressed his lips into her palm. The taste of her was sweet and smelled of lilac soap. He breathed her in, let his lips linger in her hand. This was all he needed.
She
was all he needed.