Forever Safe (Beacons of Hope) (30 page)

With what was probably her hundredth sigh, she checked her hair again, repositioned her hat, and decided she couldn’t stall any more. She had to return home. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to let go of her feelings for Tom. And the longer she stayed, the more chances she had of making a fool of herself by begging him to love her back. Actually, she’d already made a fool of herself one too many times in her attempts to declare her love.

He didn’t reciprocate. She needed to accept that. And the best way to do so was to go back to her old life.

She finished packing, set her shoulders, and marched to the door. “I’m ready to go,” she said, swinging it open. She expected to see the back of Tom’s suit coat pulled taut across the breadth of his shoulders. But strangely, he wasn’t there. She peered up and down the hallway and didn’t see him anywhere.

Where had he gone? He’d been so careful since setting foot in Provincetown. He hadn’t wanted her to change in Nathaniel’s room, hadn’t wanted her to be alone, and had told her he would be waiting outside her door. So why did he leave?

She checked the stairway and then went back to the room and peeked past the curtains to the balcony. She didn’t see him anywhere.

The door across the hallway opened. Theresa stepped out with her valises looped over her arms and closed the door behind her.

“Have you seen Tom?” Victoria asked.

“No. But I heard him tell Nathaniel that he was leaving.”

“Leaving?”

Theresa nodded curtly before starting down the hallway. “He told Nathaniel that you were in good hands now and that you didn’t need him.”

Victoria frowned. She couldn’t imagine Tom ever saying anything of the sort. “Are you sure?”

Theresa stopped so abruptly that both of her bags swung forward without her. When she spun to face Victoria, her expression was calm, but she couldn’t hide the irritated twitch in her cheek. “Are you calling me a liar?”

Victoria offered her friend a smile, although it felt wobbly, just like their friendship. “Tom’s so careful about guarding me. I didn’t think he’d leave yet.”

“Maybe he has more important things to do than coddle you.” Theresa started down the wooden stairs, her footsteps echoing sharply.

Victoria’s shoulders deflated. Maybe Tom had decided that he’d rather not go back with her. Maybe he didn’t want to face her father. Or maybe he didn’t want to be her bodyguard anymore and just didn’t know how to tell her.

She rushed after Theresa as fast as her constricting skirt would allow. She caught up with her in the hotel lobby. “You’re acting a bit strange. Is anything the matter?”

“What makes you think something is the matter?” Theresa didn’t slow her steps to wait for Victoria’s answer, but instead exited the hotel, giving Victoria little choice but to follow after her.

“You’re getting upset at everything I say.”

Theresa halted in front of a waiting carriage. “Maybe you’re just overly sensitive.”

“You’re angry with me, aren’t you?”

Theresa didn’t answer the question.

Victoria took her silence as an affirmative. “I knew it. You’re upset that I left Newport without telling you where I was going into hiding.”

“Your powers of perception truly astound me.” The sarcasm in Theresa’s voice was so caustic that it once again stung Victoria.

Victoria was at a loss for what to say to her friend. Fortunately, a young boy approached the carriage carrying Victoria’s luggage, and his presence and the commotion of loading their things covered the awkward moment. When the coachman finished strapping their bags, he opened the carriage door for them.

Victoria climbed inside, although she was sure she looked as stiff and encumbered as a wooden toy soldier. Sitting was even difficult. When she finally managed to get comfortable, she expected to find Theresa across from her, giving her another rebuking glare. Instead, Theresa stood outside whispering with the coachman. When she glanced up, she tugged her ear. “I’ve lost one of the diamond earrings that my grandmother gave me, and I need to go back up to my room and search for it.”

Victoria tried to scoot forward. “I’ll help you look.”

Theresa waved her back. “You go ahead to the dock. Nathaniel will be expecting us. He’s already there purchasing tickets for the steamer.” Theresa had already started back to the hotel. “Tell him I’ll be there shortly.”

Victoria hesitated, but when the coachman closed the door, she reclined against the hard leather seat and tried to sort through all of the confusion that had moved in like a thick New England fog. What was wrong with Theresa? Where had her dear friend gone, and who was this snapping person who had taken her place? If Theresa was angry with her, then why had she come with Nathaniel in the first place? And why would Tom abandon her after his determination all along to protect her from her attacker?

She stared out the window as the carriage rolled along the Provincetown streets. Her thoughts traveled back to the picture of Zelma sitting at the table this morning with her Bible open in front of her. When Victoria had said goodbye, the dear woman had clung to her hand, almost as if she’d sensed Victoria wasn’t coming back.

Victoria couldn’t keep from smiling at the memory of the passionate kisses Zelma always had for her husband and the tenderness James always had in return. Zelma had patiently taught her a great deal over the past month. She’d been a kind instructor, never rushing her and always encouraging. Victoria would miss the cooking and sewing lessons, along with Zelma’s sweet company.

Zelma was clearly a wise and godly woman. But she’d been wrong about one thing. She’d said that God was using Victoria to work in Tom’s life, that with her at his side he wouldn’t be able to run away from all his mistakes any longer.

Victoria hadn’t seen how God had used her to work in Tom’s life. Tom hadn’t wanted to stick by her side. Even when they’d been together, he hadn’t wanted to talk about anything from his past. He was still running from his mistakes.

“Oh, Tom.” She sighed and closed her eyes against a sudden swell of tears. In comparison to what she felt for Tom, she wasn’t sure she had truly loved any of her other suitors. Tom had been so unlike them. And it wasn’t simply because he was a common man who didn’t belong to the same social circles she did.

No, the differences went much deeper than money and prestige. Tom himself was different. He didn’t coddle her—as Theresa had suggested. Unlike other men, he wasn’t afraid to tell her no. He treated her like a person, not a wealthy heiress.

Of course, Nathaniel was different too, at least different from most New York society men. He was everything a woman like her could want—sincere, good-natured, and kind. She’d met too many rich men who could put on a congenial facade for a short time, but underneath they were full of their own self-importance and too enthralled with social-climbing to care about her. With her fortune, she was simply a means for them to accomplish more and look better.

Even though she ought to be happy with a man like Nathaniel, and even though she ought to rejoice in their future, she couldn’t conjure any joy no matter how hard she tried. Instead, her thoughts returned to the time she’d spent with Tom at Race Point.

For a few moments, she allowed herself the secret pleasure of reliving those weeks. All of the laughter and talking. All of the quick, heated embraces. All of the brief contacts and the simmering glances. And the few kisses they’d shared. Her stomach did several flips at the memory of the last one in the lighthouse.

At the bump of the carriage wheels in a rut, her eyes flew open. She caught hold of the door handle to keep herself steady on the seat. As she peered out the window, she savored the landscape—the sandy hills and tufts of willowy beach grass growing in clumps here and there. It amazed her that anything green could grow in such a barren environment.

She shifted and glanced out the opposite window. Under the clear sky, the ocean had taken on the same shade of blue. Although they were driving a fair distance from the shore, she could vividly picture herself walking with Tom in the low tide at sunset.

“Victoria Cole,” she scolded herself, “you stop all of your wallowing this instant.” She would only make herself miserable if every time she looked at the ocean she remembered Tom.

Instead, she adjusted her hat and fortified herself for meeting Nathaniel. The drive had been rather long. And the cab was getting stuffy. She hadn’t realized the dock was so far from the hotel.

Twisting as best her garments would allow, she glanced out the back window. She expected to see some evidence of Provincetown. When the glimpse showed her nothing but sand dunes, she sat forward with a start.

How far had they driven? She scooted across the seat from one window to the other, searching vainly for any sign of Provincetown or a steamer. Where were they?

Perhaps she’d misunderstood. Perhaps they were traveling to another location on the Cape. Maybe they weren’t riding on a steamer after all but were taking a train.

Even as Victoria tried to make sense of where the carriage was going, Theresa’s words came back to her, that Nathaniel was at the dock buying tickets. And when Nathaniel had mentioned they would ride on a steamer to Falmouth, he’d made it sound like they would leave from Provincetown.

A bubble of panic formed in Victoria’s chest. What if the driver had mistaken her destination?

As much as she tried to convince herself that nothing was wrong, dread began to gnaw at her. She pulled the fan out of her pocket, flipped it open, and fanned herself. Yet the air seemed even staler than before, and the gentle breeze she created did nothing to ease the perspiration forming on her brow.

She needed to question the driver. He would set her mind at ease. He would assure her of the plans. If they were off course, she could direct him back. That was easy enough.

She tugged on the bell pull and waited for the driver to respond to her call. After several long moments, she pulled it again, this time harder. When nothing happened, she sucked in a deep breath, reached for the door handle, and rattled it. She pushed it harder, and it didn’t give way.

“Stay calm, Victoria,” she admonished herself as she slid across the seat to the other door. Her fingers closed around the latch, and she silently prayed.
Please let the door open
. She pressed harder, and…it didn’t budge. She yanked on it again. Both doors were stuck. Or locked.

Had the driver purposefully locked her inside?

She probed at the edges of the window, looking for a way that she might be able to pry it open. Then she searched the rest of the carriage but couldn’t discover any other way that she might exit.

With a frustrated cry, she pounded her fists against the glass. “Let me out this instant!” When the vehicle continued to roll down the rocky road without slowing, Victoria beat against the front of the carriage in hope that the driver would hear her and stop.

But no amount of noise made a difference. She banged one last time against the front panel before collapsing into the seat. She was breathing hard, and her hat had fallen off.

The driver was clearly ignoring her because there was no way he could miss all her racket. If only he would stop, she could get answers. But something in the pit of her stomach told her everything she needed to know.

Although normally optimistic, she had the feeling all the positive thinking in the world wouldn’t get her out of her current predicament.

She’d been kidnapped. And this time Tom wouldn’t be coming after her.

T
om gave another heave, but the chair scooted only a fraction. Although he had just two feet to go until he reached the door, the distance seemed a mile away. He heaved again and again, as he had been for the past thirty minutes since his captor had left the room.

His skull throbbed. The open wound at the back of his head stung. And dizzying blackness threatened him every time he moved. He’d awoken to find his hands tied to the spindles behind the chair, his feet bound to its legs, and his mouth gagged.

Of course, he hadn’t moved right away, not even to open his eyes. He’d wanted to learn as much as he could about his situation before alerting anyone to his wakefulness. After several minutes of complete silence, he’d begun to believe he’d been abandoned. But then a slight shift in a nearby floorboard told him someone was standing at the window looking outside.

Only a minute later, faint footsteps in the stairwell and hallway had told him Theresa was returning. She came in and spoke in hushed tones to a man she called Splash. Every word they’d spoken had frozen Tom’s blood. An accomplice was in the process of driving Victoria away to “dispose” of her. After the deed was done, the man they referred to as Butch would return under cover of darkness and help Splash get rid of Tom.

In the meantime, Splash had been charged with watching Tom and making sure he didn’t escape while Theresa boarded the steamer with Nathaniel. Tom had no doubt she’d come up with a plausible excuse for why Victoria had abandoned Nathaniel once again.

Tom had wanted to roar in protest. But he’d held himself motionless until well after Theresa had left. From the way Splash’s stomach had growled, Tom had figured it was only a matter of time before the man decided to go get something to eat.