Along Unfamiliar Paths Read online

She raised her eyebrows.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” he coaxed, offering her his arm.

  She slipped her arm through his, watching him surreptitiously as they walked up the stairs to the deck. His hair had become bleached even lighter and his skin was a golden tan from the days spent working with the crew. She liked how the deep blue uniform he wore set off the blue of his eyes.

  The slight breeze toyed with the curls around her face as they reached the deck. Ben tucked her arm in closer. “Lovely night, isn’t it?”

  By their third trip around the deck, the crew began to glance at them with ill-concealed curiosity. Raine felt her stomach begin to twist into knots. Finally, she could stand it no longer.

  “Ben, was there something specific you wished to talk to me about?” she asked. Tactfulness had never been one of her strong points. She bit her lip, then went on. “It seems that you’ve been avoiding me, and I thought since you sought me out tonight, maybe you needed to tell me something important.” She finished in a rush, confused by the expression in his eyes.

  “Ah Raine,” he sighed.

  ❧

  Ben led her gently into the shadows, away from curious eyes. Leaning on the railing, he gazed out into the blackness. Why am I torturing myself? he thought. After all these years of waiting for the right woman, and then I fall in love with one who belongs to someone else. It had been fine when all he had was a photograph, but now that she was here beside him, gazing at him so seriously with those big emerald eyes. . .

  He didn’t trust himself to look at her for fear he would take her in his arms, yet he was unwilling to let her go from his presence. He asked her the first question that popped into his head, hoping to keep her near him a little longer. “Tell me about your family, Raine.”

  She threw him an odd look, he noticed, but apparently she decided to humor him.

  “My papa is a preacher,” she began. “Papa is a strong man, and not always easy to get along with. But I’m sure Paul told you all about that,” she added wryly. “Anyway, Papa always. . .”

  “Tell me about you and Paul.” Ben interrupted her narrative, suddenly curious about their relationship.

  She smiled, a faraway look coming into her eyes. “Well, it’s hard to know where to begin. Paul always understood me like no one else. He. . .”

  I really don’t want to hear this, he thought. About to interrupt her again, he froze as he heard her next words.

  “. . .Papa always said I was the willful one in the family, but Paul was just as bad, really. He always did take my side, though. Once he even let Papa paddle him instead of me, even when I had been the one to. . .” Her sentence trailed off at the strange look on Ben’s face.

  An amazing thought had just occurred to him. Please, God, let it be true! Gripping her by the shoulders, he searched her face. “Raine.” His voice sounded as if he hadn’t used it in a hundred years. He cleared his throat. “Is Paul your brother?”

  “Of course he’s my brother!” she replied in amazement. “Surely you knew that?”

  The look on his face answered her question. “I thought you were to be married,” he said at last, hoping he didn’t look as addled as he felt. “I knew Paul loved you. I just assumed. . . It never occurred to me. . .”

  “I never dreamed you didn’t know Paul and I are brother and sister, Ben. I’m sorry.” Looking up at him now, she smiled, and he was certain that she must see the relief and joy on his face.

  He grinned back at her, feeling ridiculously giddy. “This definitely sheds new light on the situation. I thought you were too beautiful for someone like that old scalawag brother of yours anyway.”

  “And just what is that supposed to mean?” Raine’s voice was stern, but her eyes danced.

  He merely smiled, letting her interpret his words as she would. “Come on, Raine, I’m starving. Let’s go raid the galley.”

  Leaving her at the door of her cabin hours later, Ben touched her cheek gently. “Sleep well,” he whispered.

  ❧

  She closed the door behind him, then whirled around the room a few times before sinking into the nearest chair. What a wonderful evening! Closing her eyes, she could picture again the look in Ben’s eyes when he had learned that Paul was not her intended. Could it be that he felt the same way about her as she was beginning to feel about him? She had already admitted to herself that she was attracted to Ben, but had tried hard to dismiss thoughts of him from her mind because. . .because why? She had never really thought about it before.

  Because you don’t want to end up like your mother. The thought shocked her. But Ben is not the least bit like Papa. . . or is he? She had to admit she had never seen Ben under pressure. Would he fly off the handle and blame everything on someone else, as Papa often did? She had watched her mother take the brunt of Papa’s anger over the years, usually over something that didn’t even have anything to do with her. And then there was the way Papa was away from home so much. Was Ben married to his work as Papa had been? Sea captains probably had to be gone often.

  Good grief, Raine, she scolded herself. You act like he asked you to marry him or something. And I thought he was regretting that he had offered to escort me to Boston, she thought with a smile. Realizing now that he had been staying away from her because of loyalty to Paul made her admire him all the more.

  After their conversation, they both realized they were hungry, since neither of them had eaten much at supper. They had giggled like guilty school children as they snooped around the galley. Ben cut them each a huge slice of dried-apple pie that was still slightly warm.

  “I hope Cook wasn’t saving this for a special occasion,” Raine whispered as they smuggled their loot back up on deck.

  “This is the most special occasion I’ve had in a long time, Raine,” Ben said, gazing deep into her eyes.

  She had blushed and almost choked on her pie. Even now she could feel the heat flood her face as she thought of it.

  “You’re being silly, Raine Thomas,” she scolded herself. Surely the evening didn’t mean anything to him. Sighing, she wished for another piece of pie and a pair of sea-blue eyes to go with it. Instead came a knock on the door.

  “Are you still awake, Raine?”

  Even if I wasn’t, I would be now, Raine groused to herself as she swung the door open. “Constance! What a surprise!” She stood back to allow the other woman to enter. Constance plopped down in a chair, looking eager for a long chat.

  “So, what are you planning to do once you arrive in America, Constance?” Raine asked politely as the other woman settled herself more comfortably.

  Constance pleated the folds of her skirt thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve wondered that myself.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. I really didn’t have much choice in the matter, you see.”

  Raine didn’t see, but she nodded anyway.

  “My husband. . .well, my family didn’t approve of me marrying him. Although he was Jewish by birth, he’d long ago stopped practicing Judaism. In fact, he even attended a Christian church. I believe he did it for business reasons only, but my family refused to have anything more to do with me. In their minds, I am dead. I was so lonely, but I found comfort in the church we attended. I believed that Christ is the Messiah. . .”

  She shrugged. “Well, my husband and I never had what you’d call a close marriage, but I threw myself into our church and filled my time that way. But then last year, my husband took up with some young thing and decided he didn’t have any more use for me. He put me on this ship with a small fortune and wished me good luck in my new life.” She turned her head in the pretense of brushing a speck of lint, but not before Raine saw the tears shimmering in her eyes.

  “I’m very sorry to hear that, Constance.” In truth, she felt like a heel. Had she been so wrapped up in her own little dream world that she’d become a snob? Surely she should have been able to see that the woman’s overdone behavior sprang out of pain. God, please forgive me, she prayed silentl
y.

  Without meaning to, she yawned. “We need to get some sleep, Constance. But why don’t you come to my cabin in the morning? My uncle John sent me some newspapers to read and maybe you could find some sort of work in there that you’d be able to do.”

  The smile on Constance’s plump face erased a bit of Raine’s regret.

  She got ready for bed and slid between the covers, but hours later, she still hadn’t been able to fall asleep, despite her tiredness. At last, she slipped from the narrow bed onto her knees, pouring out the evening’s events to her heavenly Father.

  Abruptly, Raine realized that she didn’t know if Ben knew her Lord. Oh Father, she prayed earnestly, please touch Ben. If he is not Yours, I pray that You would draw him to You. Please give me peace about my feelings toward him. . .

  ❧

  The next day found Ben at his desk gazing vacantly at the dark porthole. Running his fingers through his hair, he leaned back with an exasperated sigh. I have got to get this work done before we get to New York, he thought.

  He had been sitting here trying to work since early afternoon, but he was unable to get Raine off of his mind. Surely she was as innocent as she seemed. Her ready smile, the way her dark hair glinted in the sunlight. . .he shook his head. You’re never going to get anything done at this rate, old boy. Finally he gave up and headed downstairs for supper.

  Raine was already seated at the table. She flashed him a quick smile as he entered the room.

  “Want to go for a walk after supper?” He leaned close enough that he knew she must feel his breath warm against her ear, and he didn’t miss the quick blush that rose to her cheeks.

  She nodded, her green eyes sparkling.

  As he turned to take a seat, he saw Constance elbow her. “You and the Cap’n got somethin’ goin’?”

  Ben winced. As he began to eat, he had the feeling that the meal would never end. His impatience grew when Lloyd Ferris insisted on involving him in a conversation about Britain’s recent agreement with China to limit the production of opium. It was a subject that normally interested Ben, but now the topic dragged on through the whole main course and dessert. From time to time, he cast apologetic glances in Raine’s direction.

  She smiled at him down the table. Finally free, Ben took her arm and once again escorted her up the stairs to the top deck. As if by mutual agreement, they walked to the same spot at the railing as the previous night. They stood gazing out over the soft waves for long moments, each wrapped in their own thoughts.

  At last Raine turned. “I suppose I should finish the story I began telling you last night about Paul.”

  Ben smiled at her. “Maybe you should start at the beginning and tell me why Paul left home in the first place. He told me bits and pieces, but obviously I don’t have the whole picture.”

  “Apparently not,” she agreed. “Paul was always my best friend,” she began thoughtfully. “He could always come up with something fun to do, and we often made up games that only the two of us knew how to play. One of our favorite games was to pretend we were spies. He made up all kinds of codes and ciphers, and we had to use them any time we wanted to send a message to each other.”

  The relief Ben felt was almost palpable. She was innocent, he was sure of it now. He silently blessed Paul for not in-volving her.

  Raine’s laugh was gentle, remembering. “We had so much fun. My friend Christina and her older brother Geoff Hathaway were our best friends, and sometimes we’d get them in on the game as well. We didn’t really use the codes much after we all got older, but when Paul got in trouble. . .” Raine’s words stopped as she recalled those painful days.

  “Go on, Raine,” he prompted gently.

  “I told you before that my father is a preacher.”

  He nodded.

  “Papa loved us deeply. He could be a lot of fun, but was very stern at times as well. He was the pastor of a good-sized church, and that kept him so busy, he was gone a lot of the time.”

  She was silent, remembering all the nights Papa’s place at the supper table had been empty. “He is doing God’s work,” Raine’s mother had said. Yet. . .

  “It seems like it all started after Geoff found that old book of ciphers.” She shook her head. “I never did know exactly what happened between Paul and Geoff, but their relationship was ruined. They argued. . . A few months later, Geoff died when the family’s house burned down. It was horrible.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “Anyway, Paul started courting a beautiful girl named Lucinda right around that time. I was surprised, because he’d always been sweet on Christina. But Lucinda’s family attended our church, and everyone seemed pleased with the match.

  “Then quite abruptly, they stopped seeing each other. He would never tell me why.” She sighed. “After that, Paul began spending more and more time with some boys he had gone to school with. They were a rough lot, and he began to pick up some of their ways. He spent a lot of time at the tavern. He wasn’t bad, though,” she added hastily.

  Ben gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and she continued. “My mother got sick about then. She just kept getting weaker and weaker, and then she died.” Her voice broke. “Instead of our grief drawing us closer, Papa and Paul and I seemed to get further and further from each other. Papa was gone more than ever with church work, and when he was home he seemed. . .angry all the time. As though his grief had made him even more impatient and harsh than he had been before.”

  She sighed. “Meanwhile, Paul spent more and more time with those fellows from school. I hardly saw him. But then one evening he came home earlier than usual. He disappeared into his room, and wouldn’t come out. Finally, he let me in. He wouldn’t say anything, just kept staring out his bedroom window.” Raine closed her eyes in pain.

  Though Raine kept her face averted from him, Ben could see the tears flowing down her cheeks. “Lucinda was found to be with child, and she accused Paul of being the father.” She nearly choked on the words.

  He stared at her face. Surely she didn’t believe her brother was such a coward as to run away in the face of a lie like that, he thought. There must be something she wasn’t telling him.

  “Why did Paul have to leave home if he was falsely accused?”

  “Papa didn’t believe him. After Paul left, when her baby was born, Lucinda confessed who the real father was. But Papa didn’t care. I begged him to search for Paul and tell him—but Papa didn’t seem to even hear me.” Her deep hurt and sense of betrayal were mirrored in her eyes as she looked up at him.

  “Ah.” He nodded, feeling helpless in the face of her pain. Apparently to her mind, their father’s lack of trust was an adequate explanation for Paul running scared. Not knowing what else to do, he drew her into his embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered soothingly. He let her cry, knowing that the pain had been sharpened again by the retelling of the story. Fortunately, she doesn’t know the half of it, he thought.

  She pulled away from him, swiping at her eyes with her fingers. “When Lucinda accused Paul, the whole church turned against my brother. Papa told Paul that he had to apologize publicly to the church and marry Lucinda immediately, or he had to leave and never come back,” she explained when she had composed herself.

  “Paul pled with Papa to believe him, but Papa was adamant. He even forbid me to have any contact with Paul.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “When I tried to defend Paul, Papa became angry with me. He said I had to promise I would never mention Paul again—and if I refused, he wanted me to leave home.” She shook her head. “I left. I couldn’t bear to stay with Papa any more when he was so cold and angry. I went to work at the Mission and. . .” Her voice trailed away as she wiped away her tears with her hand.

  “Before Paul left, he vowed one day to prove his innocence. He managed to send me a few messages in code, letting me know he was safe. Then I received one letter from him that was postmarked in Boston, but it had no return address. That was the last I heard from him, until you found me,”
she added sadly. Her shoulders slumped as she bowed her head.

  Ben longed to draw her into his arms again. Instead, he place one finger under her chin and lifted her face to look into his own. “If Paul is alive, we’ll find him,” he promised, holding her gaze steadily.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  ❧

  Denver City, Colorado

  Tom stomped out of the post office, clapping his Stetson on as he emerged into the bright sunlight.

  “Shoulda stayed home,” he muttered, untying Trixie.

  All the way to Denver City he had hoped against hope that there would be a message waiting for him at the post office. A letter, a telegram, even a hastily scribbled postcard would have been a balm to his aching heart. But there was nothing.

  You’re a fool, he told himself. What did you expect? Nobody even remembers that you exist, his mind taunted him. If only he could write to her, maybe some of his loneliness would be eased, even if he never got an answer. But he didn’t dare. . .

  He kicked Trixie into a gallop, determined to escape the painful thoughts. Reining in abruptly at the edge of town, he paused. The open door of the Double Dare Saloon beckoned him into its dark, numbing comfort. He fought for just an instant against the magnetic force that drew him, then gave up in self-loathing.

  Inside, he took a draught of blackstrap. Eyes watering, he set the tankard on the table with just the slightest twinge of guilt. What he wouldn’t give to go back; to make a new start. . .

  three

  The arrival of the cargo ship the Capernaum was nothing exciting to the inhabitants of New York City, but it was one of the most thrilling experiences of Raine’s life. As they sailed through the Narrows and into crowded New York Harbor, the sight of the famous “Lady of Liberty” brought tears to her eyes. She thought of Paul living in this welcoming land, and her hope of finding him alive and well was strengthened.

  Passing the statue, the copper-clad towers and turreted brick of Ellis Island came into view on the left. Raine’s heart went out to the swarms of immigrants crowding the decks of nearby ships. She had heard that sometimes the exhausted travelers had to wait as long as four days before a barge came to fetch them to the infamous island. It didn’t seem fair that first- and second-class passengers were able to go right through customs, while their less fortunate brothers and sisters had to endure the endless examinations and inspections.