“Really, I don’t remember writing this, but forgetfulness is a symptom of stress. Good thing I wrote it down. I’ll call to make an appointment for the electrical tomorrow, once I know the phone is working.”
Chapter Fourteen
March 10, 1912 Last Quarter Moon
Sweet Dreams Plantation House
The telephone installation, her decision to have the house wired for electricity, along with a generator outside for emergency power, postponed Grace’s search for the ship by more than two weeks. As the second Sunday in March dawned, she prepared carefully for the long-delayed hunt. Satisfied she’d done everything possible to safeguard herself and the house for a day spent exploring with the dogs, she grabbed a machete from the tool closet on her way out. She checked her watch—it was nine in the morning. She’d need to stop once an hour to rest, give the pups some water and drink some herself. Outside, Grace headed west across the lawn and pushed her way through the undergrowth and trees edging the grass. Once sure of her direction Mars and Mercury raced ahead, disappearing into the brush.
When she got into the woods, she encountered one obstacle after another. First, clumps of trees growing so closely together they blocked the light and her path. Each time she was forced to detour around at some distance. How had the dogs gotten through this? They were smaller yes, but she could see no hound sized opening. She called them and almost immediately they loped into view, running parallel to the barrier plants.
“Good boys,” she patted sides and rubbed heads then gave each a drink. “You can chase rabbits and squirrels, but stay away from gators and snakes. Understand?”
Two furry heads bobbed in acknowledgement.
Whenever possible, Grace kept the bayou shoreline in view.
In between bands of impassable growth, she found swampy terrain too soggy to support her weight. On the far side of another patch of dense brush, she found a beaten path curving away northeast in the direction ofSweet Dreams. To the southwest, she saw Mars and Mercury waiting patiently for her.
The path ended at a beach bordering the bayou. She’d missed the path because she’d entered the forest south of it. Following the pathnow might explain who had walked there so often as to create the path in the first place.
As she neared the beach, there was a circle of thick round wooden pieces, as if someone had cut the trunk of an old tree to provide seating. Settling in a shady spot with the dogs, Grace paused to have her lunch and guzzle water. The sun beat down. Heat shimmered on the bayou. Farther west down the shoreline, beyond where the beach gave way to cypress with their roots sunk into the bayou, she saw the aft end of a Baltimore Clipper. Its rudder angled high out of the water, as if the ship were broken or half sunk. Just like that night she’d imagined people standing on a ship.
She shook her head, and peered through the heat waves. The weave of cypress branches obscured her view.That’s it. The tree branches created an illusion seen by my heat driven imagination.
Still, plenty of time remained to keep exploring. Grace finished her lunch. She’d just follow the shoreline until it ran out.
“Stay close, boys,” she told the dogs.
I won’t find anything, so I can turn for home with my curiosity satisfied.
***
Luc worried what Grace might find, and placed illusionary barriers whenever possible. By the time she’d stopped for lunch, her body language shouted she was nearly convinced that she didn’t expect to find the ship she obviously believed she’d imagined.
However, the woman was entirely too stubborn. Good thing she’d brought the dogs. If anything happened to her, he could send them for help.
Would she exhaust herself simply to prove her mind was playing tricks?
She wasn’t ready for the truth; that wasn’t even in question. Grace might never be ready. Still, patience was his ally, so he’d do everything possible to make her turn back until she could believe the story he would relate.
He’d begun by creating ephemeral trees where no trees normally grew. Luc got away with that illusion, because such thick growth existed elsewhere in the bayou. Then he’d extended the length and breadth of bogs that bordered the bayou, forcing Grace farther fromthe shore. However, he’d forgotten to erase the evidence of the path he’d used when he felt like walking to and fromSweet Dreams. Luc had been mentally kicking himself for that mistake when Grace had come up on the circle of small stumps he used as an outdoor parlor for the rare visitor he had who believed in him—visitors like Grace’s aunt. Stopping to eat her lunch had provided an opportunity to create more illusions. He was proud of the latest, for he’d used materials from the wreck of theOnly Loveto add credibility. If she touched those boards, she’d touch solid wood.
Chapter Fifteen
March 10, 1912 Last Quarter Moon
Sweet Dreams Plantation House
Grace did as she planned, enjoying the quiet and the small breeze blowing off the broadening bayou. Mars and Mercury nosed along parallel to her direction.
The sun inched its way to the western horizon when a tangle of broken trees and old boards blocked her path, forcing her to stop. Old boards?
She stared at the barrier, trying to detect a way through. She found one, and was about to squeeze between a few of the dead trees, when a ray of sunlight pierced through a small space, and despite the broad brim of her hat, all but blinded her.
Grace twisted her head away, scratching her cheek on a twig in the process. In the haze of her recovering vision, she spotted a man, his body highlighted by the sun. Terror speared through her. The dogs hurried to her side.
The man stood at the aft end of the ship she searched for. The ship’s rudder hung high out of the water
