Along Unfamiliar Paths Page 13

He sighed. “I hired a man to trail Paul, Raine. He reported back to me Paul’s whereabouts and so on.”

  “Then why don’t you know where he is now?” She winced as she heard the sharpness in her own voice.

  Her father shook his head, infinite weariness in his eyes. “I don’t know, Raine. My man had reported to me that Paul was recovering well from his injuries after the shipwreck. Then apparently without warning, Paul left in the middle of the night. Langley hasn’t been able to track him down.”

  The words echoed in Raine’s mind, triggering an avalanche of questions. “Papa, do you think Paul knew he was being followed?”

  Richard frowned. “I don’t think. . .why?”

  She described the message Paul had sent her in the locket. “ ‘Am being pursued’ was the first sentence,” she explained. “He also mentioned something about that in the letter,” she remembered thoughtfully. “Do you think. . .?”

  Her father was still frowning. “I don’t think so, Raine,” he said slowly. “I’m sure he could have noticed Langley following him, but I don’t think he would have been perceived as a threat.” Richard pictured the scrawny little man he had chosen to trail Paul. “No, I don’t think so.”

  The evil face of a red-haired man popped into Raine’s mind. Suddenly, she knew who had been pursuing her brother, and it wasn’t Langley. “I think you need to rest now, Papa,” she said firmly. “I forgive you for everything you did—and I know the Lord will as soon as you ask Him. Why don’t you just talk to Jesus for a little while, and then go to sleep. We’ll talk more later.”

  Her father closed his eyes without a word, and Raine breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped out of the stuffy room. Her head ached with the events of the day, and her heart was heavy with thoughts of Paul. The thought of her brother being hunted by the man who had been her captor sent chills down her spine.

  “So how’s Papa doing?” Charlotte’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Raine smiled. “Much better, now that he has started to deal with the past. I think we’ll leave tomorrow. Now that Papa has turned back to the Lord, he’s as anxious for me to find Paul as I am.” She looked thoughtful, then added, “But before we go, there is an item of business we need to take care of.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we. I need you for moral support. We need to do a bit of sleuthing, that’s all.”

  ❧

  “This is where Geoff and Christina’s house stood before it burned,” Raine whispered to Charlotte.

  “So now where do we go?” Charlotte whispered back.

  Raine shrugged. “Let’s look around a little. It doesn’t look like anyone even takes care of the place anymore.”

  It felt eerie to walk through the deserted grounds. How well she could remember all the fun they had had here. It wasn’t that long ago, really, that she and Christina climbed these old apple trees to spy on their brothers, giggling wildly when they were caught. . .

  “Raine, I think we need to go.” Charlotte’s loud whisper held a note of panic. “There’s someone. . .”

  Raine jumped as a man appeared as if from nowhere. Turning to flee, the sound of his voice froze her.

  “Raine! Please. It’s just me.”

  She turned slowly to meet the plea in his blue eyes. “Geoff?”

  He nodded.

  “You’ve been following me.”

  He nodded again.

  “Why?” Her heartbeat was returning to normal.

  “Because I wanted. . .needed to make things right.” His disfigured face twisted into an odd sort of grimace. “I couldn’t find Paul.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Raine noticed Charlotte peeking out from behind the outhouse. “It seems that no one can find Paul, Geoff. But how. . . I mean, I thought. . .?”

  “You thought that I was dead.”

  She nodded.

  “I thought I was dead, too. It was horrible.” He passed a trembling hand over his eyes. “I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that the road to recovery was very, very long. But there is good that has come of it.” She looked into his glowing eyes. “I have come to know Jesus Christ, Raine. I mean, really know Him.”

  She watched as the tears coursed down his face, feeling her heart respond to the intensity of his feelings. “I hurt Paul so badly,” he choked. He turned away, trying to compose himself. “And I know that must have hurt you as well. Can you forgive me, Raine?”

  She nodded, though she wasn’t sure what she was forgiving.

  Geoff fell silent for a long moment. “I need to confess something,” he said finally.

  Raine looked at him, her eyebrows raised, but Geoff could no longer meet her eyes. “It was me,” he said in a low voice. “It was me that made all the trouble for Paul.”

  Raine shook her head, confused. “You didn’t make the trouble, Geoff. It was Lucinda who told that lie—and of course you weren’t the baby’s real father. What are you talking about?”

  Geoff hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I was angry with Paul, jealous I guess. We’d always been so close, doing every-thing together, and then suddenly he seemed to have outgrown me. And I hated him for hurting Christina. I was so angry that when a man came to the house with a coded message Paul had written me, I said I didn’t know anything about it. I told the man that Paul had stolen that old code book from me—though really he’d only borrowed it—and I said that I had no idea what he wanted it for. I told him that Paul had been acting very strangely. I didn’t mean anything by it, I had no idea the sort of mess I was getting Paul into. I just was angry at him. I was pretty sure the man was some sort of policeman and I thought it would serve Paul right to get in a little trouble. I never dreamt. . .”

  He fell silent again. Raine stared at him, stunned by what he had told her. “I never knew. . .”

  He nodded. “No one knew. Except for me. Pretty soon another man came to the house, asking about Paul. He showed me a message in code, but it wasn’t written in Paul’s handwriting. He asked me if I’d ever seen anything like it before. I wasn’t really paying attention, I was impatient to be on my way to the hunt at the Presteigns’, and without thinking, I said, yes, I’ve seen lots of messages like that. The man looked angry and asked me where I’d seen them. I said Paul had given them to me, which was the truth of course, because he was always writing messages to me in code. The man asked where the messages were now. I had my horse saddled by then, and I just laughed and told him they were all back in my room. I swung up on the horse and rode past him.” Geoff shuddered. “That night our house burned and I—” He touched his face. “Nothing was ever the same.”

  Raine could not speak. Finally, her voice trembling, she asked, “Why did everyone say you had died?”

  Geoff shrugged. “I asked my family to spread the story I was dead. I’d been thinking about that man, the red-haired one I’d spoken to the day before our house burned. I knew he was no policeman, and I understood now that he thought I knew something about coded messages. I was afraid he’d come back.”

  Raine’s face was very white. “Red-haired?”

  Geoff nodded. “He had red hair. And a tattoo on his hand. I think he must have been a sailor.”

  ❧

  Raine waved until Mr. Duncan, Charlotte, and the Mission staff were mere specks on the wharf. She felt ridiculous dressed up like an elderly woman, but everyone had insisted on it for her safety. “You never know, Raine,” Mr. Duncan had said. “Ol’ Red Hair didn’t seem like the type to give up easily.”

  In the end, Raine had given in to their pleas to travel incognito. Now at last she was on board and headed back to Ben. Leaving Papa had been hard, but he had encouraged her to go.

  “Find my boy, Raine,” he had pled. “I need to make things right before I go to meet the Father.”

  “I’ll find Paul if it takes the rest of my life, Papa,” she pledged solemnly. She squeezed his hand. “Pray for me.”

  Tears glistened in the old man’s eyes. “I will, Rai
ne. I will.”

  She smiled as she gazed out across the waters of the Atlantic. She thought fondly of her father, thankful that they had had the chance to cry together and pray together. It’s like we have a whole new relationship, she thought gratefully. Now, if I could only find Paul.

  God was at work. Hadn’t Mr. Duncan recommitted his life to the Lord because of that situation? And then there was the telegram she had received from Ben, telling of his surrender to Christ. It would be wonderful to be in his arms again, this time to share his new-found joy.

  She had decided to surprise him, so she had not wired her plans to return to Boston. Her heart beat faster as she imagined their reunion. Of course, if he saw her like this. . . She giggled, fluffing her gray hair. “You look just like my great-aunt Esther,” Charlotte had said, barely suppressing her giggles as Raine had adjusted the frumpy hat to a more rakish angle.

  So much had happened since that day she had waved good-bye to Ben in Boston. She couldn’t wait to share the glad news about her father and hoped that Ben had some good news of his own about Paul. And Aunt Grace will be so relieved that Papa is doing better, she thought.

  The salty spray misted her face, reminding her of all the times she and Ben had stood at the railing on the Capernaum. . .their first tender words. . .their shared hopes and dreams. . .

  ❧

  Near Santa Fe, New Mexico

  It was time. Tom had awakened before dawn with a sense of urgency pounding in his breast. It was time to go home.

  He roused the sleepy cowhands, prodding them into action while it was still dark. “What’s the rush, boss?” Simon drawled.

  Tom shrugged. “It’s time.”

  It’s time, it’s time. . .the phrase seemed to keep beat with Trixie’s galloping hooves. The sense of expectancy that Tom had come to know like his shadow crescendoed with every passing mile.

  nine

  Ben sat at a corner table in yet another tavern, trying to keep the disgust from showing on his face. Now that he knew Raine was safe, he was concentrating on finding Paul. Raine had told him about her aunt thinking she had seen Paul outside a tavern, and Ben had decided the taverns would be a good place to try and get some information on where Paul had gone. He brushed a fly from his face with a grimace. He never had been able to figure out what the attraction was to these hot, stuffy places. The women were coarse and loud, the atmosphere thick with smoke and schemes. But surely if Paul had been here someone would remember him.

  After questioning the people in the tavern, though, he was no closer to finding Paul. He stood blinking in the sunlight, filling his lungs with fresh air. I just can’t go to another one of these places today, he decided. One more day won’t matter. Turning to untie the horses, his heart sank as he met the icy gaze of Raine’s aunt Grace. She leaned out of her carriage, staring at him in horror as he left the tavern, but before he could call to her, her carriage moved forward with a lurch and rattled away from him.

  He pulled his horses to a stop in front of Violet’s house, hardly realizing what he was doing, stunned that Raine’s aunt would think the worst of him, without giving him a chance to explain. He had to admit that it looked bad for him to be coming out of a tavern, especially since he had recently committed his life to the Lord. But I didn’t do anything wrong, his heart protested.

  Slumping despondently on the edge of the bed, he pondered the situation. What should I do next? God, please lead me to the right place. I know someone has to remember Paul. I just know it.

  The next morning found him in the sea front district, standing in front of the Red Witch Tavern. Taking a deep breath of the salty air, he heaved the door open. Waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust, he took in the heavy smell of ale and the high-pitched laughter of the women. How he hated this! He ran his fingers through his hair as he leaned back in his chair, catching the eye of the blonde-haired girl behind the counter.

  She grabbed a glass off the shelf behind her with a practiced motion and hurried over to him. He placed his order for a glass of lemonade and she returned with it promptly. Ben nodded his gratitude, then spoke to her softly, asking her the same question he had asked all the others.

  She froze. “Paul?” she whispered, her face white. “Yes, I know Paul.”

  Ben looked at her trembling lips and wide eyes. “Can we talk outside?” he asked, glancing around at the growing audience.

  He opened the door for her, following as she walked stiffly outside.

  “Are you all right, Miss. . .?”

  “Hathaway. Christina Hathaway,” she supplied. “I’m fine. It’s just that. . . I just. . .” She looked up at Ben, her heart in her eyes. “Do you know where Paul is?”

  Christina. He remembered something Raine had told him about her childhood friends and understanding glimmered. “No, I don’t know where Paul is, Christina,” he said regretfully. “I was hoping you could help me find him.” He introduced himself, giving her a thumbnail sketch of what he knew of Paul.

  “Well, I saw him after the Aramathea went down,” she said. “He came here to. . .to have a drink.”

  He came here to say good-bye, Ben surmised. “Did he say anything about where he was going?”

  She considered the question. “Not really, I guess,” she admitted. “But he always talked about a life-long dream that he had.” She smiled wistfully. “He was going to take me with him.”

  ❧

  Raine stood on deck, her heart pounding as the familiar sight of the Boston harbor came into view. She could almost feel Ben’s arms around her. . .

  One of the first passengers to disembark, she waited impatiently, flagging down the first driver she saw. She gave him the address of her uncle’s house and settled back in the seat. Glancing about as the carriage pulled away from the waterfront, her heart stopped as she caught a glimpse of a tall, blond man. Ben! She craned her neck, trying to get a closer look. His back was to Raine, but she could see that he was in earnest conversation with a young woman. It sure looked like Ben, but why would he be standing in front of a tavern, talking to someone who looked like she belonged behind the counter pouring drinks?

  Raine decided her longing for him was causing her imagination to run away with her. Dismissing the incident, she decided to freshen up a bit. She powdered her nose and patted her short locks into place, smiling as she imagined her aunt’s shocked reaction. True, her hair had grown out some, but the rich brown waves still hung well above her shoulders. At least she had discarded the gray wig and baggy clothes after a few days at sea.

  She giggled, picturing her family’s reaction if she had decided to come home masquerading as an elderly woman. As it was, they might still look at her askance. She shrugged, gathering her things quickly as they neared the house.

  Aunt Grace reacted to Raine’s new hairstyle better than she had expected, and she barely had time to dash a short note off to Ben before she was pressed into telling of her adventures in London.

  Her aunt and uncle were horrified as she told of her abduction. Aunt Grace clucked over her like a mother hen. Uncle John sat silently, at last breathing a quiet “Praise God!” when she had finished bringing them up to date.

  Raine sighed as her story drew to a close. “I had so hoped that Papa knew where he was, but. . .maybe Ben found something more,” she said hopefully. “I sent him a note to let him know I’m back. Maybe he’ll come tonight.”

  Grace looked uncomfortable. “Raine, I hate to give you bad news. . .”

  “Now, Grace,” John spoke sternly. “Let the young people work things out for themselves.”

  Raine looked from one to the other. “What is this all about?”

  “Don’t you worry about it, Raine. You just go on upstairs and freshen yourself. I’m sure Captain Ben will be coming as soon as he receives your note.” John stared hard at his wife.

  Upstairs, Raine closed the door to her room and sank down on the bed, relieved that her journey was over. It felt good to have a steady floor beneath her feet.
She pondered what to wear when Ben saw her for the first time.

  Shaking the folds out of her favorite navy blue dress, she hung it up in the spacious wardrobe. Maybe I ought to wear the green one. . . Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

  She opened the door to her aunt. “Which one do you like best?” she asked, indicating the two dresses.

  Her aunt closed the door behind her silently, ignoring the question. She wore an agitated look on her face. “Raine,” she whispered. “Your uncle would be very angry if he knew I was up here, but I feel I have to tell you.”

  Raine frowned as Grace bit her lip. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Raine.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I was at the dressmaker’s shop the other day, you know, on Grape Street.”

  Raine nodded, wondering what could possibly be so upsetting to her aunt.

  “Anyway, I decided to drive down the street to Eva’s Bakery to get some of that wonderful rye bread she makes.” Raine nodded again, her curiosity growing. “I was almost to Eva’s, when I glanced across the street, and I saw Ben come out of a tavern!”

  Raine’s mind instantly flashed to the man she had seen standing outside the Red Witch Tavern. Surely there must be a reason. . .

  “Are you sure it was Ben?”

  Her aunt nodded. “I’m sorry, Raine.”

  “I’d like to be alone, please, Auntie,” Raine said softly.

  “Of course, dear. I’m so sorry.”

  Raine eased down onto the bed, her mind reeling. Could that have been Ben who was talking to the tavern girl at the wharf? The more she thought of it, the more sure she became that it had to have been him. She pictured again the way the man had leaned eagerly toward the fancily dressed woman, and her heart froze.

  Picturing his face, his tender blue eyes, she just couldn’t believe that he would betray her trust. I’m sure he’ll explain the situation to me, she told herself firmly. He loves me.

  Pushing aside the nagging doubts, she finally settled on the mint green dress. Brushing her short hair, she wondered what Ben’s reaction would be when he saw her. She dabbed on some of her favorite lilac perfume.