“You were really upset last night at the party.I could sense that you and the Marquis don’t get along.”
“Get along?Hmm.If you mean there is suspicion, distrust, and animosity between us, then aye.”
“Seems there is a lot of that going round in this town.People don’t seem to like you much.”
“’Tis why I’ve brought you here.”He brushed aside a thick palm frond and led her into a large clearing, framed by a verdant jungle on one side and a sandy beach on the other.The area that once pulsed with life, now lay scarred and hollow.The remnants of charred timbers poked from the dirt like broken bones.Where once twenty huts had stood, nothing but blackened stumps and half-buried stones remained.Iron pots, kicked over in the mayhem of that night, sat empty like mouths screaming in agony.A fallen beam covered in moss, marked where the thatched meeting place had stood, where Caleb and his family had fed the impoverished freedmen.Vines snaked over the ruins, the jungle reclaiming the land as if to cover up the horrors of that night.The stench of scorched wood and human flesh still hung in the air, and Caleb swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
Desi took in the scene, her eyes focusing on each detail.“What happened here?”
Moisture stung his eyes.Slamming them shut, he forced it back.He could still hear them, children’s voices as they skipped and played, the hopeful chatter of people set free, and songs of joy floating in the wind.
But then other sounds pushed those aside—screams, pistol shots, the crackle of flames.A shudder ran through him, and he gripped the cross around his neck if only to anchor himself to something good, something real.
Opening his eyes, he took her hand in his, pleased when she received it, and led her past the carnage to the beach.
Morning sun set the sea ablaze, glittering across the white sand.Turquoise waves lapped the shore in a steady rhythm, spreading their foam in bubbly arcs.Caleb released a breath and shifted his shoulders, shaking off the morbid gloom.The sea never failed to soothe him.Its vastness, majesty, and depth made everything else seem small by comparison.And unlike most people, he could always count on it.Even when the storms struck in all their wild fury, he understood them, respected their power.
“Do you mind sitting in the sand?”He halted before a spot beneath the shade of a palm.
She chuckled.“I was born on a beach.”
He didn’t know whether that was true or not, but the lady’s sweet laugh swept aside his angst.
Huffing as she fiddled with her skirts, she plopped onto the sand and gazed over the sea.Caleb sat beside her, laying his arms across his drawn-up knees.
“So, you gonna tell me what happened back there?”
In truth, he no longer wanted to, but he could see the lady would not give up her quest.
He flattened his lips, seeking the words to describe the torment constantly raging within him.“Two years past, my family and I ran a mission here for escaped slaves.Île Du Crânebecame known as a haven for those who were fortunate enough to break free from their masters’ chains.”
“I’m surprised,” Desi commented, “that Louis-Étienne de Montverre”—she spoke his name haughtily—“allowed such a thing.”
Caleb smiled.“In truth, he was quite charitable, even going so far as to give us food and supplies.”
She blinked.“I don’t get it.Why help you when he obviously has his own slaves?”
Caleb shook his head.“I admit, it does seem rather improbable.But we were not in a position to deny his assistance.”A breeze stirred the fronds above them and tossed a loose strand of her golden hair over her shoulder.“As you can tell, he lords over this island as if he owns it.That he allowed us to help the maroons and preach the Gospel outweighed our disdain for his slavery.”
Caleb paused and lifted his face to the sun, longing to change the topic.
“Obviously something horrible happened.”She laid a hand on his arm.“I can tell it upsets you.”
He faced her, and the concern in her eyes moved him.But was it genuine?“An emergency back home lured my parents away, leaving me in charge, both over the mission and my sister, Esther.”He grabbed a handful of sand and allowed it to spill from his fingers, just like the lives he had lost that night.“Spanish soldiers attacked in the middle of the night, set the mission on fire, and murdered everyone they crossed.”
Desi gasped, her expression one of horror.“Why?Why would they do such a thing?”
A salty breeze swept in from the sea, showering Caleb in a cool mist.It did naught to relieve the grief he felt in reliving the sordid tale.“We taught the freedmen how to farm, trade, and live free.The plantation owners on the surrounding islands perceived it as a threat, not only to their slave-driven economy, but they feared a rebellion from both the maroons we trained and from any slave who heard about us.”He scrubbed his jaw.“Then, of course, our beliefs were more protestant, and these particular slave owners were staunch Catholics.”
Desi squinted as the sun rose above the horizon.“Do you think the marquis had something to do with it?”
“I cannot be sure.But I suspect foul play on the part of his daughter.”
“This Geneviève, the marquis referred to at dinner?”
Caleb nodded.Just the mention of her name, especially upon innocent lips, forced him to his feet.“My father trusted me, put me in charge of the mission and everyone in it, instructed me to provide, train, and protect them until his return.”He still felt his father’s tight grip on his shoulder.You have proven yourself more than capable, Caleb.I trust you.
And Caleb had let him down in every way possible.
