Abandoned Memories (31 page)

“Of all the lunacy!” Patrick laughed, Belinda joining him. “Invisible monsters and visions and the destruction of the world. Pshaw!” A devious look twisted his features as he leaned toward James. “I fear the sun has addled your brain, preacher or doctor—or whatever you are.”

Belinda’s giggles grew louder. James’s heart turned to lead.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.” And off he strolled, the young lady on his arm.

Hayden glared after his father. “Good thing I’ve forgiven him, or I’d probably kill him on the spot.”

James flattened his lips. “It must be difficult to live so close to him after all the damage he caused you and Magnolia.”

“He’ll be gone soon enough. But I do wonder what he’s about. He has a plan to get that gold, a good one. You can bet on that.”

Blake shook his head. “He’ll probably get himself killed.”

A breeze spun around them, cooling the sweat on James’s neck as crickets buzzed from the darkening jungle. In the distance, colonists began to gather around the fire for supper.

“I interpreted more of the book last night,” James said. He’d wanted to discuss his findings with his friends all day, but they’d been busy building huts and foraging for food. Besides, he needed time to ponder the new revelation, to ensure he was right, to ask God what to do.

Wind stirred sand at their feet as Blake and Hayden stared at him in expectation.

“I’ve discovered who these four beasts are.” James hesitated. He knew this would make him sound like the addlebrain Patrick had just called him, yet it was no crazier than the idea of invisible beings in the first place. “They are four of Satan’s fallen angels. In fact, they were—or are—generals in Satan’s army.” He glanced at his friends, but their expressions were unreadable. “Apparently, I was correct in my assumption that they stepped outside the boundaries God had placed on them, did something they had no permission to do, so God sent Gabriel with a contingent of warring angels to battle and subdue them.”

Only the crash of waves and snap of a distant fire responded. James tightened his jaw, bracing for the laughter he expected from Hayden.

Instead, Blake moaned and gave an agreeing nod. “Perhaps that charred area behind the temple was the battlefield.”

“My thoughts exactly.” James turned to Hayden. Skepticism screamed from his eyes, yet he remained, waiting to hear more.

“Like I told you before, the angels’ punishment was to be imprisoned underground near a hot spot until the end of this age.”

“The fire lake the priest I met spoke of,” Hayden said.

“Yes.” James rubbed the back of his neck. “The book speaks of a river of fire that runs through hell in the center of Earth then flows up to the Earth’s crust in only three places.”

“Then the cannibals came along,” Blake said. “Erected their temple right on top of it, dug tunnels, and happened upon these beasts.”

“As I said before, I don’t think they understood what they’d found or what they’d released.”

“Not until it was too late,” Blake added, gazing at the surf.

Hayden cursed, his mood growing sullen. “You told us that the person who recites the Latin phrase must have a black heart, an evil heart.” He glanced at his father sitting on a rock, entertaining a group of people with some embellished tale. “If anyone has an evil heart…”

Blake groaned. “Tell us again what happens if this fourth beast is released?”

“He is called
Depravity
. Need I say more?” James heard the fear in his own voice as darkness settled on the beach. “And from what I’ve read, his release multiplies the power of the others and enables all four of them to leave this place and wreak evil over the entire planet.”

“There’s no telling how much damage they will do. How many lives will be lost.” Hayden’s gaze remained on his father.

Blake’s body stiffened. “We’ve got to stop the pirates. We’ve got to stop Patrick from releasing that fourth beast.”

James glanced at Captain Ricu climbing the rope ladder to his ship. “Pirates have gunpowder…do they not?” He lifted his brows and scanned his friends.

A slow grin spread over Hayden’s lips while Blake nodded his understanding.

“We blow up the tunnels,” they all said in unison.

“It’s the only way,” James added. “God is on our side. I believe He sent us here to stop these beasts.” He’d been sensing that for days. But now he hoped his friends would agree.

Blake squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps. But even if we can destroy the tunnels, the pirates won’t give up on the gold. Not when they know it’s still down there.”

“But it will buy us time.” James stared at the ship, a shadowy leviathan floating offshore. “But how do we get on board and steal enough gunpowder to blow up those tunnels?”

HAPTER
28

J
ames glanced over his shoulder at the pirates guarding the beach. Though a few of them had left at sunrise for the tunnels—along with several of the colony’s men—the rest stayed behind in order to keep the remaining colonists from escaping. “They are sneaking aboard tonight,” he answered Angeline, who had asked about their plans to steal the pirate’s gunpowder.

“Who?”

“Hayden and Blake,” James said as he slammed the ax through a thick piece of bamboo. He’d been attempting to reinforce the women’s shelter when Angeline approached. Storm clouds on the horizon portended rain, and he wanted a dry place for the ladies to congregate.

“Why aren’t you going?”

Wind tore a curl from her pins and sent it bouncing over her neck as her concerned gaze snapped to the pirate ship. James set down the ax and wiped sweat from his brow. Since she’d agreed to their courtship, she’d been seeking him out, starting conversations, sitting with him at meals, strolling with him on the beach, looking at him with those exquisite violet eyes so full of admiration. He felt like he was living in a dream, a dream ripe with hope and love and every possible joy. Yet at the same time he felt guilty for feeling such happiness in the midst of so much struggle and danger.

He took her hand in his and caressed her fingers, thrilled when she no longer pulled away. “They need me here to protect the colony should…” He stopped, not wanting to alarm her.

“They get caught.” She finished, her lips tightening. “I’m thankful you aren’t going. Is that selfish of me?”

“Is it selfish of me to wish I
was
going?” He chuckled. “To want to do something—anything to stop this madness.”

Swaddling his hand in both of hers, she brought it to her chest. “I fear for them. I fear for us all.”

He ran a thumb over her cheek. She was so small, but he knew inside her petite frame, a dragon lurked—a dragon filled with strength and determination. And he loved her all the more for it. “They will be all right. God will go with them.”

She smiled. “I wish I had your faith.”

James squinted toward the rising sun. A handbreadth above the horizon, it scattered droplets of gold onto the restless sea.
Did
he have faith? Though Thiago had been healed and had come to believe more firmly in God, James hadn’t been sure either would happen. Did he truly believe that Hayden and Blake would be safe, or was he just reciting the expected platitude? Another trite proverb sat ready upon his lips—something about how Angeline could have faith too if she only believed—but it tumbled unspoken onto the sand. More proof that he wasn’t a very good preacher at all.

“Thank you for working on our shelter.” She peered behind him at the tilting stack of bamboo and fronds.

Running a hand through his hair, he gave a lopsided grin. “If that’s what you call it. But yes, I’m trying. I may even erect a front wall today so you ladies can at least enjoy some privacy.”

“Doctor, preacher, and home builder. Is there no end to your talents?”

He withheld a skeptical snort. He’d never had a woman look at him the way Angeline did. Other females had looked at him with interest, appreciation, fury, and even desire, but never with such admiration that his heart nearly burst. If he told her the truth—that he was good at none of those things—he feared the sparkle would fade from her eyes. And he didn’t think he could bear to see it go. “At your lady’s service.” He gave a mock bow.

When he resumed his full height, her eyes were locked on his bare chest. She looked away and began fingering a wayward strand of hair. So accustomed to wearing minimal clothing in the sultry environment, he’d unwittingly forsook proper etiquette that morning. Still he found her innocence refreshing. And alluring.

“Sweet saints,” she whispered then bit her lip.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” Shielding her eyes from the sun, she returned her gaze to his. “I actually have a purpose for disturbing your work, James. To invite you to a picnic lunch.” She gestured to her left. “Just beyond the cliffs. In an hour? Just the two of us?”

Heart leaping at her suggestion, he turned and grabbed his shirt from the sand and gave her a teasing smile. “Without a chaperone? I do hope you’re not trying to seduce me?”

Chastising herself, Angeline begged James’s forgiveness and turned to leave. She truly had no idea how real ladies behaved. Maybe it was his bare chest that prompted her to ask such an improper thing. What was she thinking? Inviting a man to lunch! And without a proper escort? He must think her wanton.

His hand on her arm stopped her. His look of remorse stilled the pounding of her heart.

“Forgive me. My poor attempt at humor was completely unwarranted.” He searched her eyes. “I would love to join you.”

“Very well.” Her insides unwound at his loving look. “On one condition.”

“Anything.”

She wanted to tell him—to insist—that he put on the shirt he held in his hand. His bare chest was driving her to distraction. Not because it was thick and corded with muscle. Not because it was tanned and lined in strength. But because it was James’s. And he was so close. A sturdy rock of manhood—a cave into which she longed to crawl and never come out. And she hated feeling that way. Needing him made her vulnerable. Did all women suffer such uncontrollable longings during courtship? As if they couldn’t get enough of their beau? As if they’d shrivel up and die without him?

When she didn’t answer, he placed a finger beneath her chin and raised her gaze to his, one brow lifting. “Your condition, Miss?”

“Oh, yes.” She attempted a smile. “That we don’t discuss any of our problems.”

He nodded his agreement.

And like a gentleman, he kept his word. For two hours Angeline and James—and Stowy—escaped the world with all its problems and stresses: the temple, the beasts, the visions, the disasters, the pirates. And most of all, Dodd. For two hours she sat on an old quilt in the sand and memorized every curve of James’s mouth; the scar that angled down the right side of his lips; the flex of his jaw; every sparkle in his eyes; the way the wind played havoc with his hair, making it poke out all over; the sound of his voice that reminded her of the thunder of waves. And his laughter, which brought a lightness to her spirit she’d never known. After sharing some of their meal, Stowy curled up in James’s lap, something he rarely did with anyone but her. Sweet saints, if the cat trusted this man so much, what reason did she have not to do the same?

She discovered they both enjoyed the writings of Emerson and Thoreau, the artwork of Frederic Edwin Church, the sound of a violin, and fruitcake. They spoke little of their past and shared dreams for their future. A future that was beginning to form out of the haze of Angeline’s memories. Like the bright sun, it shoved aside the bitter cloud of her past and shaped her dreams into sparkling possibilities.

She could spend a lifetime on this blanket with this man on this beach. And die happy.

Finally he leaned toward her and planted a kiss on her lips. A soft, chaste kiss, his breath feathering her cheek, as if he touched precious porcelain. She drew in a breath of him and felt her pulse race, imagining what it would feel like to be loved tenderly and gently, not harsh and rough like an animal satisfying an impulse. Memories invaded, sullying the moment. Voices shouted insults in her mind. James cupped the back of her neck and ran a thumb over her cheek, luring her out of the darkness.

“Angeline, sweet, sweet, Angeline,” he breathed over her lips before tasting her again. Angeline’s world spun. What she wouldn’t give to be pure and innocent for this man. To be the lady he believed she was. Perhaps she could wish her former life away, abandon all her bad memories to the past where they belonged.

James tasted of mango and salt and she pressed against him, wanting more and more, trusting him like she’d trusted no other. It began to rain. Small drops at first but then larger and larger, until the two separated, gathered their things, along with Stowy, and ran back to camp laughing like children.

Hours later as the sun sank behind the tips of the trees, Angeline sat on the beach, Stowy in her lap, studying the webs of foam each wave created upon the shore. Each one was so delicate, so beautiful, so unique, it would put the finest Chantilly lace to shame. Yet how many exquisite designs bubbled over the sand one minute and then were gone the next? If she hadn’t been sitting here to observe, no one would have seen their beauty. How true of their own lives. Tossed upon the sand by God, some forming gorgeous patterns, others fading away too soon. But did anyone notice? Was something beautiful if no one ever saw it to proclaim it so? If it was swept away before anyone realized its value?