Abandoned Memories (38 page)

Dodd listened to the sound of their footsteps shuffling away before he opened his eyes. He’d woken up several hours ago but had found himself too weak to move or even speak. Soon, he’d realized something must have happened to the colonel because he could hear James stitching him up. It must have been a serious wound from the sounds of things. Probably an injury from the windstorm, which was the last thing Dodd remembered. Regardless, Dodd had kept his peace. Then afterward, when Angeline had sat beside him and dabbed a cool cloth on his head, he’d thought to enjoy her sweet ministrations for a while before making himself known. But, oh, what a heavenly miracle had then occurred! The words he’d overheard passed through his mind, awakening memories that the woman’s beauty must have forced him to forget. Angeline Moore was Clarissa Paine! The infamous woman who’d murdered her own uncle—bludgeoned him in his own house. Every law officer in Virginia had been put on alert, wanted posters had been handed out. Dodd couldn’t imagine how he had missed it. Ah, sweet justice would finally be served. At least the kind of justice Dodd would choose to enact. Despite his weak condition, he lifted his lips in a devious grin.

HAPTER
33

A
burst of wind caught the crinkled pages of the Hebrew text and shuffled them across James’s vision. With a huff, he shifted back to the end of the book and flattened the papers with his palm. An ache etched across his shoulders from leaning over the manuscript all day, and he sat up straight and attempted to stretch the kinks from his neck. Foam-capped rollers curled toward shore and spread creamy gauze over the sand, sending crabs skittering into their holes and the colony’s children running in laughter. Ah, to be young and carefree again without a worry in the world. Without concern for food or shelter or pirates or invisible beasts who could plague the world with terror.

Which was why James had spent the past week studying the ancient Hebrew book, desperate to find a way to stop the pirates from releasing hell on earth. Yet he’d found nothing useful. Or perhaps he was missing something, some crucial piece of information that would make sense of it all.

Down shore, two men chopped wood while the women prepared supper around a blazing fire. The Scotts sat beneath a palm, looking quite peaked as Mable fanned them with a frond. Laughter drew James’s gaze to Delia chasing her children through the tumbling waves. Beyond them, Thiago and Sarah held Lydia’s hands as the child teetered along in her first attempts to walk. Children grew up fast. Too fast. Too soon they would have to face the hardships of life. The heartbreak.

Heartbreak
. His eyes latched upon Angeline, hanging wet clothes with some of the other women, her hair ribbons of sparkling ruby in the waning sun. A viable pain seared his heart at the loss of her. He no longer blamed her for what she’d done—what she’d become. He understood. He forgave her. But he still couldn’t bring himself to receive her back into his life. Or his heart. Though, in truth, he doubted he could ever banish her from that tender spot. Still, he had vowed to start over in Brazil, become a great preacher and spiritual guide to the colony.

And how could he do that married to a prostitute? Wouldn’t that make him just as much of a failure as he’d always been?

He couldn’t shake the images bombarding him day and night of her in other men’s arms. Many other men. Of them groping her, fondling her, kissing her…and God knew what else. He’d wanted a pure woman, an innocent woman to make a fresh start with. A godly start.

Blake broke from the group of colonists and headed toward him. Holding his side, he moved slow and hesitant, pain lining his features. James shook his head. He’d commanded him to stay in bed and rest for at least another week, but the colonel wasn’t accustomed to taking orders. Still, not a minute passed in which James didn’t thank God for helping him save Blake’s life. It was truly a miracle.

A miracle like Dodd waking up from a coma after eight days. The man’s recovery was astounding. After eating every piece of fruit and fish in sight, he was back to his impertinent, greedy self. In fact, he’d even been strong enough to join the pirates at the temple today.

Thoughts of the ex-lawman vanished when the colonel stopped beside James, shifting weight off his bad leg and staring out to sea.

“Sit.” Closing the book, James slid off the boulder and gestured for Blake to take his spot.

“Don’t coddle me, Doctor.” He grinned.

“That’s an order, Colonel,” James returned. “From someone who has had his hands inside your gut, I believe I have the right.”

Blake pressed his side and eased himself to the rock. “If you’d stop reminding me, it might stop hurting.”

“It will stop hurting when it heals, and it will heal when you rest.”

“You sound as bad as Eli—” His gaze jerked to the pirate ship, anchored offshore, its stark masts golden columns in the setting sun. “Blast it, I miss her.”

James should say something here, quote some comforting scripture about how God would rescue her and all would be well. But James had learned two things in the past months: One, God’s ways were often not what anyone would expect, and two, God needed no defending.

Blake stomped his boot in the sand, the leather soles sinking into the grains. “Would that those pirates would find their infernal gold and release Eliza and Magnolia. Yet if they
do
find the gold, they are likely to free the final beast.” Blake squeezed the bridge of his nose and grimaced. He nodded toward the book in James’s hands. “Have you discovered anything of value?”

James sighed and shook his head. “The beginning told how the beasts came to be imprisoned and how they can be freed. The middle consisted of nothing but poetry, songs of praise, and a tale of a mighty prince coming to rescue his people. I can’t make sense of how it connects to the rest.”

“And the end?”

“Talks about ‘the six,’ whoever or whatever that is,” James said. “Something about the
six
being the only ones able to put the fallen angels back in chains.”

“But who are these six? How are we to find them and what exactly can they do?”

“The book doesn’t say. At least not yet, but I do have a few more pages to interpret.”

Blake nodded. “Best get to it. I fear we don’t have much time. I want my wife back. And I want this madness to end. I’m tired, Doc.” His normally stormy gray eyes had turned dull as fog. “So tired.”

“We all are. But we can’t give up now.”

Wincing, Blake rose to his feet and gripped James’s shoulder in a brotherly squeeze just as shouts of glee and raucous laughter down shore caught their attention. The pirates, Captain Ricu in the lead, his red feather aflutter atop his hat, burst from the jungle, jugs of liquor in their hands. Songs in Portuguese filled the air as the band stomped across the sand to their side of the beach where the captain and three of his men began rowing one of their cockboats out to the
Espoliar
.

Dodd, Patrick, Moses, and three more colonists brought up the rear and headed toward them.

Acid welled in James’s belly. Nothing good could come from the pirates’ joyful mood.

Nothing good but gold. And lots of it, according to Dodd and Patrick—gold that filled the fourth alcove from floor to ceiling.

“Filled? The entire alcove?” James asked as the other colonists assembled around the two treasure hunters.

Dodd smiled and rubbed his hands together then winced at the cuts covering them. Shaking dirt from his hair and shirt, he glanced at Patrick, who remained as unsoiled and modish as one could in the middle of a jungle. He fingered his goatee. “Stuffed full. A veritable fortune! Just like the old pirate who gave me the map said.”

“What of the chains?” Blake eyed the man with suspicion. “The shackles?”

“Don’t worry about them.” Dodd took a sip from a canteen one of the colonists handed him. “If they are there, they’re buried. And probably lying in the dirt like the others. Nothing’s there but gold, I assure you. No imaginary beasts that will destroy mankind.” His chortle filled the air, drawing a few chuckles from the crowd, before he slid to sit on a stump, his breath coming hard and his face paling. Even in his weakened condition, his vulgar gaze searched the mob and latched upon Angeline, where it remained for far too long.

James’s insides bunched in a knot. Hugging herself, Angeline turned and walked to the other side of the group where Dodd couldn’t see her, causing James to wonder once again whether they had met in the States. The thought of the circumstances of that meeting made bile rise in his throat. He squelched the vision and focused on Patrick, who was continuing to prattle on about how rich they were all going to be.

Hayden crossed arms over his chest and snorted. “You are bigger fools than I thought if you think you’ll see any of that gold.”

Dodd and Patrick exchanged a knowing glance. “We shall see,” Patrick said. His grin sent ice down James’s spine. It seemed to have the same effect on Hayden as he studied his father with suspicion. Regardless, James had bigger problems than Patrick and Dodd’s greed.

And from the look on Blake’s face, he agreed.

Though James had entertained doubts—many doubts—along the way, and though everything within him wanted it to be false, he knew the fourth beast was still chained in that alcove. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. He also knew that the removal of the gold would no doubt aid in the monster’s release. Especially if someone read the inscription above the tomb. In fact, now that James thought of it, the gold had probably been hidden there as bait for greedy men—just the type of men whose hearts were dark enough to free the fallen angel.

Everything he’d read in the Hebrew book, everything that had happened, finally started to make sense.

Dodd slowly stood, color returning to his face. “We start pulling out the gold first thing in the morning.” He peered through the crowd looking for someone. James didn’t need to turn around to know Angeline had slipped behind him. He could smell her coconut scent, feel her presence in the way his heart leapt, his throat burned, and every sense came alive.

“I don’t care about the wretched gold!” Mr. Scott shouted. “My daughter is held captive by pirates! I want her back and I want to leave this loathsome jungle.” Mrs. Scott clung to her husband, looking as though she’d aged a decade in the past few weeks. Poor woman. Mr. Scott was looking none too well himself, his lack of interest in gold speaking volumes as to his present discomfort.

Mumbles of assent bounced through the mob.

“The pirates won’t keep us here any longer will they?” Mrs. Jenkins drew her daughter into her skirts.

Blake scanned the crowd. Though most wouldn’t spot it, James knew his friend, could see the angst roll over his face. “I have no idea. But I urge you not to give up on our colony just yet.”

“What colony?” Mr. Scott’s ensuing chuckle was contagious.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Patrick’s assured voice, along with his eyes, flew over the group—both finding a perch on his son, Hayden. “The pirates said they’d release your
wife
.” He hissed the last word before turning to Blake. “And yours, Colonel. Right now, in fact.” He flicked fingers in the direction of the ship. “Ricu feels you have learned your lesson and won’t attempt any more tomfoolery.”

Hayden needed no further impetus to take off in a spray of sand, parting the crowd with his exuberance. Blake, though equally exuberant, followed at a much slower pace. Within minutes the two ladies were rowed to shore and deposited in their husbands’ arms. James turned away from their tender reunions, feeling his own eyes mist at the intensity of affection between husbands and wives. Unfortunately, those eyes landed on Angeline standing in the distance, staring at him. She tore her gaze away then strolled down the beach, her green skirts swaying in the breeze. At the very least, he owed her an apology for his cruel words and abominable behavior. But he couldn’t face her. Not yet. And definitely not alone. Not until he had a better grip on his emotions and wouldn’t fall prey to those pleading violet eyes of hers.

Besides, he had a far more pressing matter at hand. Somehow they had to stop the pirates from removing the gold and releasing the fourth beast. If they didn’t, James feared all would be lost.

The moon floated atop the horizon, draping glittering silver over the sea. Her stomach a torrent of angst, Angeline had skipped supper and gone for a walk, in desperate need of some time alone—to think, to mourn, to pray. She’d hugged Eliza and Magnolia, laughing and crying for what seemed like hours before Blake and Hayden demanded their wives back. At least some good fortune had finally shone upon the colonists. Some sign that God had not forgotten them—that perhaps this whole nightmare would come to an end. Another sign was that the pirates had lessened their sentries around camp. No doubt they no longer cared if the colonists escaped to Rio, for by the time any of them made it, the pirates would have gathered their gold and sailed away. Which also meant that perhaps they didn’t intend to murder them before they left.