Elusive Hope (37 page)

With a groan, Blake excused himself and headed toward the altercation. Hayden followed, the irony of his agreeing with Mr. Scott, for once, not lost on him.

Blake halted beside Dodd. “What’s all the fuss?”

Several colonists stopped eating and glanced at the group, while others gathered around.

“The fuss, if you must know”—Mr. Scott gave him a superior look—“is that I’m having this thief arrested. Mr. Dodd was a sheriff back home. Ergo, he is best suited to be the law here. At least until we can set up a proper election or however they work it in Brazil.” He scanned the mob and, upon realizing he had an audience, raised his voice. “We have three witnesses who can testify that this man robbed me and my family of all we owned.”

“Absurd!” one of the women at Patrick’s side exclaimed.

Patrick plopped a slice of orange in his mouth and smiled.

Dodd scratched his head. “Well, I suppose I could oblige you if we had a proper jail.”

“We can lock him in the tunnels you told me about, Mr. Dodd. You mentioned there were chains down there.”

“No one is arresting anyone,” Blake said.

Patrick nodded. “At last, a word of reason.” The ladies breathed a sigh of relief.

Mr. Scott bunched his fists. The lines framing his mouth seemed to have deepened overnight. “Colonel, this man is a criminal and must be punished.”

Hayden stepped forward. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Mumbles of both protest and agreement thundered through the colonists.

“Hold up, everyone.” Blake raised a hand. “Is anyone here a witness to the theft of Mr. Scott’s wealth?” When all grew silent, Blake continued, “I thought not. Then, Mr. Scott, I’m afraid it is your family’s word against Patrick’s.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Colonel?”

“No. I’m simply saying we don’t have enough proof.” Blake shifted weight off his bad leg. “Besides, as Mr. Dodd said, we have no jail, no judge, and no jury. If you want to see justice done, I suggest you escort Mr. Gale back to the States.”

“Why would the man come with me, when all that waits him is the noose?!” Mr. Scott shouted, his baleful eyes narrowing upon Patrick.

The man merely shrugged and rubbed his goatee. “Why would I leave Brazil to waste time and money on a trial that would surely declare me innocent?”

Mr. Scott lunged for Patrick, but James leapt between them and forced the old plantation owner back.

“You can’t just let him run free!” Mr. Scott blazed.

Blake rubbed his forehead.“What would you have me do with him?”

“String him up on a tree.”

“Here, here,” Hayden agreed, drawing his father’s reptilian eyes.

“You know I cannot do that.” Annoyance edged Blake’s tone.

“I appreciate that, Colonel.” Patrick smiled. Handing his plate to one of the women, he rose, brushed off his waistcoat, and gazed over the crowd. “Your colony has chosen a wise and just leader.”

Ah, now the flattery began. Hayden’s stomach curdled. But, thankfully, Blake didn’t seem to fall for it.

“However, Mr. Gale.” The colonel stared the man down with that I’m-in-command-and-you-will-obey look he must have given his troops on the battlefield. “That something unlawful occurred between you and the Scotts, I have no doubt. Simply because I don’t have the means to discover what that is, doesn’t mean I won’t be keeping a firm eye upon you and your activities in our town. Should I find even the slightest hint of anything nefarious in your dealings with anyone, you will be banished from this colony. Do I make myself clear, sir?”

A flicker of anger, a promise of defiance, crossed Patrick’s eyes before they clouded over with seeming compliance. “Of course, Colonel. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The lady to Patrick’s right stood and brushed aside her chocolate brown curls. “Colonel Blake, is it? You are quite mistaken about Owen…this man you call Patrick. He is a noble man of the highest character.” She sent a spiteful glance toward Mr. Scott. “He couldn’t possibly have done what this man claims.”

Other members of Patrick’s colony shouted their agreement.

Mr. Scott seemed about to lose his breakfast. Patrick, on the other hand, nodded his thanks to his admirers before he turned to address Dodd. “Mr. Dodd, I heard you were searching for gold, sir.”

Suspicion clouded the ex-lawman’s face as he clipped his thumbs into his belt. “What’s it to you?”

“Well,” he began, drawing the man in. “I happen to have a map…an old pirate’s map.” Patrick raised dark brows.

“So do I.” Dodd twitched his crooked nose, studying the man.

“Great news, great news. Precisely what I’d hoped.” Patrick rubbed his hands together. “You see, my map is one of three. Perhaps yours is another?” Reaching into his waistcoat pocket, Patrick pulled out a crinkled piece of vellum, carefully unfolded it, and showed it to Dodd, whose eyes widened at the sight.

“It does look similar to mine,” Dodd said. “But I found nothing at the spot it led me to. Just another piece…of…”—Dodd’s words slowed as realization rolled over his face—“a…map.”

“Indeed?” Patrick grinned. “Mr. Dodd, I do believe we need to talk.” He glanced over the crowd. “In private.”

Mr. Scott jerked from James’s grasp. “What does this have to do with this man’s arrest?”

Patrick thrust out his chin. “It has everything to do with your complaint, Mr. Scott. For here is what I propose. You say I stole money from you. I say I did not. However, I am a fair and generous man, and I do feel badly for you and your wife and, of course, your lovely daughter.”

At the mention of Magnolia, his gaze brushed over Hayden, and the look of victory in his eyes nearly caused Hayden to draw his pistol and shoot the man on the spot. But that would be too nice a death.

“And besides,” Patrick continued. “Whatever sort of man you thought I was before, by the very testimonies of the people who have spent months living with me, you can see that I am different—transformed, as it were.” One arm drawn over his chest, he bowed toward Mr. Scott. “I wish to make amends for whatever harm you perceive I’ve done to you.”

Hayden glanced over the crowd, expecting to hear rumbles of laughter, or at the very least, see eyes rolling in disbelief, but they all stood mesmerized by the man.

“Mr. Dodd and I will find this gold, I assure you.” Patrick raised his voice for all to hear. “And when we do, I shall pay you and your lovely wife every penny you say I stole. How does that sound?”

“Why would you do that if you aren’t guilty?” James eyed the man with suspicion.

“Because I am generous. And because if the information regarding this treasure is true, there’ll be more than enough gold to pay this man and make us all rich!”

Nausea clambered up Hayden’s throat. How could anyone believe such nonsense? But Mr. Scott made no protest. Instead, a hint of greed flashed in his eyes.

“Those pirates certainly thought there was a fortune here,” one of the colonists said.

“But the gold is mine.” Dodd frowned.

“Not if you need my third of the map to find it.” Patrick grinned. “So, Mr. Scott, you can either have the colonel banish me from the colony and remain poor forever, or you can allow me to find the gold and make you a rich man once again.”

Hayden chuckled, drawing everyone’s gaze. “The man is lying. Can’t you see that?”

Mr. Scott glared at Patrick, a vein throbbing at his temple. “I am not a man to be trifled with a second time, Mr. Haley or Gale, or whoever you are. But at the moment, I don’t see that I have a choice.”

Hayden shook his head in disbelief.

“Find your gold, sir,” Mr. Scott continued. “If it even exists. You have six months to do so before I take matters into my own hands” —he swung a determined gaze at Blake—“regardless of what you say, Colonel.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Patrick gave a placating grin. “You shall have your money, Mr. Scott”—he lifted his chin and scanned the assembled group—“and then I will invest the rest of my share in this town and make it the Southern Utopia we all came here to embrace.”

Ah, such seductive words frothing from devious lips with such aplomb that everyone cheered and smiled at him like the puppets they were. And he, the puppet master, skillfully pulling their strings. Hayden frowned. Yet, how many times had he, himself, lied to people, persuaded them with the same laud and puffery, put on a facade of honor and integrity while placating them with the same reassuring smile? All the while robbing them behind their backs of everything they had. Sometimes in front of their eyes.

A horrible realization struck him. One he should have seen long ago. In his quest to find his father by entering the man’s world, Hayden had become just like the man he hated.

C
HAPTER
31

S
queezing through the rotted gate, Hayden entered the temple square. How Blake and James had talked him into coming here again, he couldn’t say. It seemed like a good idea at the time—a chance to get away from bumping into Magnolia everywhere he went, as well as from stewing in fury while he plotted revenge against his father. But now, as he glanced over the gruesome faces carved into obelisks and the huge fire pit whereupon those faces, along with their bodies, had been roasted, he much preferred his own internal angst than this temple of horrors.

But sweet Eliza had insisted that she check on Graves and bring him some food, and Blake would not have her come alone. In fact, he organized a regular posse consisting of Thiago, Moses, and of course James, who was anxious to return due to his reading of some ancient book Graves had given him. However, now as James entered the courtyard, he moved with the determined, wary look of a warrior rather than the interest of a scholar. The preacher-doctor was a constant surprise to Hayden for he knew the man harbored secrets from his past. Yet he played the part of a respectable man of God so well, Hayden couldn’t help but admire him.

Thiago and Moses entered in after Hayden, looking less than pleased to be there, with Blake and Eliza bringing up the rear.

“Let’s get this over with.” Hayden started toward the temple stairs. “Though I don’t see why you care so much for Mr. Graves, Eliza. If it were up to me, I’d leave him to his own devices.”

Releasing her husband, Eliza slipped her arm through Hayden’s. “We all have moments of insanity in our lives, do we not?” Her coy smile made him wonder if she referred to Hayden’s recent attempt to murder his father. If she only knew the other horrid things he’d done, she wouldn’t dare to touch him now. “Perhaps if someone had cared for us during those times,” she continued, “we would have come to our senses sooner.”

“You can’t argue with my wife’s compassionate heart.” Blake leapt on the stairs, kicked aside a piece of crumbling stone, and helped Eliza up. The adoring way he looked at her clouded Hayden with sorrow. His chances at loving and being loved like that had died with the revelation of Magnolia’s relationship with his father.

James faced the young interpreter. “Thiago, will you join us inside this time? There are some carvings I need you to look at.”

The Brazilian’s chest bellowed like the wind, but his jaw remained firm as he followed James up the stairs.

“I’ll wait here,” Moses said.

Blake nodded at the man, flung a sack of food and water over his shoulder, and led his wife inside the temple. Hayden followed, wondering if he shouldn’t wait outside with Moses. But his curiosity got the best of him. The last time he’d been here, they’d gone no farther than the altar in the back. Since then, he’d heard Graves had managed to excavate tunnels beneath the building.

Minutes later, the oppressive heat in those tunnels threatened to melt Hayden on the spot. The deeper they went, the hotter it became. Eliza wilted in her husband’s arms as he led her along, while James and Thiago discussed the odd carvings on the wall. Put there by the cannibals who built the temple,Thiago guessed, and telling a tale about a huge battle between the gods.

“And these.”Thiago held up the torch and pointed toward drawings of figures that looked like giants with wings. “These are powerful beings who fought.” He ran his finger over the rough stone. “Here see, they are put in chains. Defeated.”

Sweat stung Hayden’s eyes. He wiped it away, moving past them. What difference did some ancient fable make when one was roasting alive? With each step he took, more air seeped from his lungs, while his damp clothes clung to him like tarpaper. And what in tarnation was that smell? A smell that got worse when, at the bottom of two sets of stairs, they entered a torch-lit cave. All the chamber needed to complete Hayden’s vision of hell were volcanoes of fire belching from the ground.

Leading her to sit on a boulder, Blake handed Eliza his canteen. The woman shouldn’t be here at all, but Hayden knew Blake oft had difficulty bridling his stubborn wife. Which reminded Hayden of Magnolia. Despite how things ended between them, a smile tugged his lips. A smile that soon faded when James lifted a torch to reveal strange symbols scrawled above two alcoves.

“Yes, yes. Deception and Delusion,” he mumbled to himself as he knelt to examine the broken chains at the bottom of a long pole. “They are in the book.
The Judgment of the Four
. They are two of the four mentioned.”

“I don’t understand,” Eliza said.

Hayden ran a sleeve over his forehead. “What nonsense is this, Doc?”

James shook his head. “I haven’t translated it all yet. But they were some kind of powerful beings.”

“Like the carvings on wall.”Thiago’s gaze skittered about the eerie cave. “The defeated ones.”

Hayden snorted. “Where is Graves?”

As if on cue, sounds echoed from an opening to their left and out crawled Mr. Graves. Though he’d been sinister-looking before landing in Brazil, the dust-laden, long-haired, rag-attired man who emerged into the room now harbored such a macabre aura about him, Hayden’s sweat turned cold.

“Ah, Mr. Graves.” Eliza approached him. “We’ve brought you some food and water.”

“I have no need of it.” He waved her away, but by the way his clothes hung on him, Hayden thought he should reconsider.