The Girl Who Wrote in Silk (23 page)

BOOK: The Girl Who Wrote in Silk
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She closed the door and paused to rest her forehead against it with her eyes closed.
Please
, she prayed to the ancestors,
keep
Joseph
safe
out
there
.

Exhaustion rode heavily on her shoulders as she came back downstairs. Still, she put the kitchen back in order and then bundled up against the storm and made her way outside to usher the animals into their stalls in the barn for the night. The horses got handfuls of alfalfa, and the pigs, goat, cow, and sheep a cup of grain each. After filling their water troughs with buckets from the stream, she closed the barn for the night and went back to the house, all the while watching and listening for signs that her husband was returning home.

She ached to crawl into bed beside him and sleep for hours. As soon as he got home, she’d do just that.

The storm made the evening darker than usual. This was the time of night when she used to go to the water to visit Father’s and Grandmother’s spirits. She hadn’t been back since Yan-Tao was born more than seven years ago, but tonight she felt the water pulling, felt the spirits pulling her to the water. Despite the storm, despite the rain and mud and her own exhaustion, her feet turned toward the water.

Wind whistled past her ears and forced tree branches to rub together and make eerie music. She ignored it, just as she ignored the cold rain stinging her exposed cheeks.

Her feet slipped on the muddy path, and she stopped to catch her balance against the rough bark of a cedar tree. Something made her pause there and listen, all her senses open.

Why wasn’t Joseph home yet?

Nothing moved besides the shadows of the trees whipping in the wind. No lights flickered. No voices called out. No scent but wet forest filled the air. Nothing changed as she waited and watched for a signal from whatever had alerted her, because something had. Something was out there. Something had made her stop and want to go to the water for the first time in seven years. Something called to her tonight, and she didn’t know what or why.

Something wasn’t right.

Her family ancestors had released their grip on her when her son came into the world and she’d started the embroidery. Why would they be pulling at her tonight?

Unless it wasn’t Father’s or Grandmother’s spirits calling to her from the water but something else. Someone else.

Heart pounding, she pivoted away from the water and hurried back to the house as fast as the storm and the pain in her stomach allowed. She wouldn’t leave Yan-Tao alone for a moment longer, no matter how strongly she was pulled to the water. She could return as soon as Joseph came home.

But he was never this late. He’d left early yesterday morning and had planned to spend one night in Port Townsend and return by midday today. He sometimes even completed his business within one day and caught a steamer or private boat back home without spending the night at all. He never took two full days. Never.

Once inside and dried off, she tried to work on her embroidery but found herself making sloppy, uneven stitches, the pattern lost, so she had to pull out the threads and start over. After an hour she gave up and paced between the parlor window that looked to the water and the sitting room window that looked to the road, watching and yearning for signs of Joseph’s return. All the while ignoring the water’s pull.

Eventually she gave in to her tired body and lay down on the sofa, curling herself around the cold, piercing ache in her belly that was competing for attention with the burning fear in her throat. She fell asleep with the candles still burning.

The dog first alerted her that someone was in the yard. The Lab came bounding down the stairs from Yan-Tao’s bedroom, barking and whining as though the devil himself were at the door. Mei Lien pushed herself off the couch, aching more than before she’d fallen asleep, and looked around.

Sun slanted through the windows to splash weakly on the knotted rug under her feet. It was morning. The storm was gone and Joseph had not returned.

The dog danced at the front door, barking at the stranger outside. He never barked at anyone but strangers, which meant it wasn’t Joseph out there.

Just what she needed. A visitor.

“Is it Father?”

She turned toward her son’s voice and found him standing in the kitchen doorway, fully dressed, his hair still rumpled from sleep.

She shook her head. “No,
hŭzĭ
. It’s not.” Moving to the window, she carefully drew back the white curtains.

Two men, white men, dismounted from their horses and tied the reins to the porch railing. The one facing her was of medium height and build and wore a dark suit. Something on his coat, probably a metal button, flashed in the early morning sunlight as he reached into his saddlebag for a canteen of water.

The other, even though he hadn’t turned his head in her direction, she would know anywhere. Campbell. He carried himself like no other person Mei Lien had ever seen. Much like she imagined an emperor or king would—his head lifted to look down on his subjects, even though most were taller than him, his shoulders back and chest puffed.

The men talked in low voices so all she heard was a murmur. They didn’t seem to be up to mischief, but Mei Lien knew not to trust Campbell or any man in his company.

“Stay in the kitchen,” she whispered to Yan-Tao, herding him in front of her as she raced to the back door and the shotgun Joseph kept hanging on the wall beside it. “Stay silent. Don’t let them know you’re here, no matter what. Got it?”

He nodded, his eyes huge above his round cheeks. “Where’s Father?” he whispered.

She shook her head as she checked to see if the rifle was loaded. “I don’t know. Don’t worry. I’ll handle these men.”

Just then one of the men pounded on the door and they both jumped. With her eyes on her son’s, she put a finger to her lips and raised her eyebrows. He gave a jerking nod, then scampered back to wedge himself into the corner by the stove.

Satisfied he’d stay put, she held the gun in front of her and moved silently to the front door. “Who is it?” she called in the strongest voice she could muster.

“Ma’am, it’s Duncan Campbell,” came the voice that made her insides shrink up. “I’ve got Sheriff Keppler with me. There’s been an accident. Please open the door.”

Her stomach dropped, as cold and heavy as the boulders in East Sound. “What do you mean ‘an accident’?”

“Mrs. McElroy,” said a voice that must have been the sheriff’s. “It’s about your husband. May we come in?”

Mei Lien jerked her gaze to the kitchen. Even though she saw no sign of her son, she knew he was there. She had to protect him from those men.

She faced the door again and drew herself up as tall as she could manage with the pull in her belly. Still clutching the shotgun, she unlocked the door and stepped outside, pulling it closed behind her.

Campbell and the sheriff stood shoulder to shoulder on her porch. The sheriff took a step back when he saw her, and she was struck by the subtle rejection. She hadn’t been this close to a white person other than Joseph in five years. Those years had made her forget the many ways people let her know they hated her.

She lifted her chin and met his wary gaze with a defiant one of her own, feeling a moment of satisfaction when his drooping mustache twitched.

Dismissing him for the moment, she turned to face Campbell. The very sight of him made her clutch the rifle tighter. Campbell didn’t smile, though something in his eyes seemed to be gloating. Her finger slid toward the trigger. “What do you want?”

The sheriff pulled his hat from his head and held it in front of him. As he eyed the rifle, he said, “Ma’am, can we come inside? I’m afraid we have some bad news.”

That was when the truth struck her. Why else would the sheriff and Campbell be here? A trembling started in her legs and moved up her body, tugging on the pain in her stomach so that she felt sick, and then climbing into her head until she heard a buzzing noise.

She knew what they would tell her. She didn’t need them coming into her home, scaring her son, all of them pretending they could be civil to each other. “Just say what you need to say and be on your way.”

The two men exchanged a glance. Campbell shrugged a shoulder and rolled his eyes as if to say he couldn’t care less how they handled the situation. The sheriff’s head jerked in a nod before he turned back to face Mei Lien. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to inform you that the steamer your husband was on has been found lying on its side on Lopez Island. The captain’s body was found inside. We searched for hours yesterday and still have men out searching this morning, but we’ve found no sign of your husband’s or any other passengers’ bodies. I’m sorry.”

Mei Lien felt darkness close over her. Campbell had probably caused the accident. He was the reason her husband was missing. He was the reason the water took Joseph from her, just as he’d commanded it to take everyone else she’d ever loved.

Suddenly, and inexplicably, her fear of Campbell vanished. Gone was the nervous tension she felt around him. Gone was the physical need to lower her eyes when he drew near. Gone was the need to hide from him.

She didn’t care what he might do to her. He’d done the worst thing imaginable. He’d taken first her father and her grandmother, and now he’d taken her husband.

From down that long tunnel, she heard a primal scream and knew it came from her, though she didn’t feel it. Through a haze of pain, she saw herself raise the rifle and point it at Campbell’s face. “You killed them!” she heard herself shout in Chinese. “You killed Joseph. You killed Father and Grandmother, and you tried to kill me. Never again, White Devil!” She pulled the trigger.

The next thing she knew, she was lying facedown on the porch, splinters jabbing into both palms as the sheriff’s knee dug into her back. The black shroud that had covered her was gone, and she saw the scene around her clearly. The gun lay next to her, but then the sheriff kicked it away so that it fell off the side of the porch into the yard. Campbell spoke, but she couldn’t make out the words.

She didn’t care that the sheriff had pushed her, forcing her to miss. She didn’t really want to kill Campbell because then she’d be just like him. She would always be better than him.

She didn’t care about anything anymore. Bending her arms under her face, she rested her forehead on them and let the tears come. Silently they dripped onto the rough planks of the porch and she didn’t care. She wished her whole body could melt into nothing and slide through the floorboards.

“Come on, Duncan,” she heard the sheriff say. “Our job here is done.”

“She tried to kill me, sheriff. You should take her into custody.”

“Nah, she meant no harm. It’s just grief.”

Through the pounding ache of her soul, she heard the men gather up their horses’ reins and mount as Campbell kept up his campaign to have her arrested. If she were a white woman, she knew, they’d have carried her inside, given her tea, called for one of their wives to come sit with her. A Chinese woman did not merit kindness.

Frankly, she was glad. All she wanted was to be left alone with her agony.

The men rode out of the yard and were gone. She lay unmoving, knowing as soon as she lifted her head she’d have to face the truth.

The door latch clicked and the hinges squeaked. She tensed. How could she have forgotten Yan-Tao? What had he heard?

“Mama?”

Quickly, she wiped her face on her sleeve and sat up with her back to her son. It took three deep breaths before she had the courage to turn around.

Her son looked physically sick. His usually round face was sagging like an old man’s. His eyes were red and bruised and held shadows she knew must also be in her own.

“What did you hear?”

His chin trembled as he stepped fully out onto the porch and let the door slam shut behind him. “Father is”—he stopped and rubbed his arm across his nose—“gone?” His face crumpled and sobs tore from his small throat.

She opened her arms and he dove onto her lap, his face pressed against her chest. Loud wails erupted from his body to slice through her.

Campbell was responsible for this too. Campbell had just killed her son’s childhood as surely as if he’d put a bullet in his head.

“We’ll be all right, Yan-Tao,” she murmured to him as she stroked his hair and rocked him in her arms. “We’ll find a way. You’ll see.”

She kept rocking her son, comforting him as best she could as she drew comfort from the warmth of his small body on her lap. Over and over again she reassured him they would be all right.

But even as she spoke the words, she knew right down to her soul that they would never be all right again.

Chapter Nineteen

Friday, July 27—present day

Rothesay Estate, Orcas Island

“Thought I’d find you down here.”

Inara turned at the unexpected sound of Daniel’s voice to see him emerge from the shade of the forest onto the beach, where she’d spent the last half hour daydreaming plans for a dock where guests could tie up their boats or launch kayaks. She just finished making a note to hunt down quotes for new kayaks and related equipment to replace the old stuff in the garage when Daniel reached her.

“You’re early. I’m glad.” She met him halfway. “I missed you.”

“Me too.” Daniel’s lips found hers and she sank into his embrace.

The sound of a splash reminded her where they were. She pulled back and turned toward the water, her senses full of Daniel. “Look, she’s back.”

“Who?”

“The seal I told you about. The one who pops up nearly every time I’m down here. That’s her.” Inara watched the gray head dive under the sparkling water, then reemerge a few seconds later to look directly at them before doing it again, like a child showing off.

“How do you know it’s a female?”

“I don’t really, but I just have a feeling.” Inara thought about that. From the first time she saw the seal here in her bay, she’d felt a kinship with it. Sisterhood.

She shrugged and stepped out of Daniel’s arms to pick up the notepad she’d dropped. “As happy as I am that you’re here, I have some things I need to get done before I can give you my full attention.”

A sly smile spread across his face, showing his mind had gone directly to the gutter. “Then I guess I’d better let you get to it so you can finish quicker. Mind if I set up my laptop on your kitchen table?”

“Go for it. There’s iced tea in the fridge and cookies that Sophie sent over this morning. I shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

“What are you working on?”

Inara hugged the notepad to her chest. “My business plan. Dad made it a requirement of the loan so I need to get it done right away. It’s taking longer than I thought it would and I’d hoped the quiet of the beach would help me focus.”

She looked back one last time at the seal before turning into the cool shade of the forest beside Daniel. “It doesn’t help that I keep getting new ideas that require adjustments to the financials and building timeline.”

“I haven’t heard an idea of yours yet that isn’t worth the extra work.” He held her hand as they walked, the gesture natural, as if they’d been together for years. “Anything I can do to help?”

She forced herself to focus on his question, rather than the sensation of his thumb caressing her hand. “Unless you know someone who sells and installs elevators that are safe but cheap, I’m afraid not.”

It was the part of the plan she was stuck on because it cost so much. She’d considered skipping elevators, but since all guest rooms were on the second and—eventually when the budget allowed for expansion—third floors, she had to make the hotel ADA compliant. Elevators would be welcome by guests and make service much more efficient for the staff, but the cost was phenomenal. She was starting to realize she’d probably need to bring on another investor even if her dad gave his approval in September.

No
, she reminded herself,
not
if, but when
. When her dad gave his approval. She had to stay positive. Of course her dad was going to approve of her work and extend the loan. He had to.

“Can I tell you what my team found now, or should I save it for later?” Daniel asked, interrupting her racing thoughts.

Her feet stopped moving and a fist squeezed her throat.
What
if
his
team
had
found—

No, she wasn’t going to think it. They could have discovered anything about the sleeve or Mei Lien.

She’d been dreaming about the murdered Chinese people ever since her meeting with her dad. The dreams woke her up at night, heart pounding, lungs gasping for breath. And sometimes images of her mother’s mangled car would weave into images of all the bodies in the water and she’d hear someone laughing cruelly, though she could never see who it was.

She blamed herself for her mother’s death, and now she found herself with crazy thoughts that she was somehow also responsible for the lives of all those souls pushed to their deaths from the ship, responsible for Mei Lien too.

She knew there was nothing she could have done to stop the massacre because she hadn’t even been alive when it happened. But the guilt and anguish still felt real.

She forced her feet forward. “What did they find?”

He stopped in front of her and grabbed both of her hands. Light fell through the leaves overhead, dappling his face with spots of sunlight and shadows. His eyes danced with whatever surprise he had for her, and she wished she could feel excitement in return. Instead she felt the slick oiliness of fear.

“I know what happened to Joseph.”

“Mei Lien’s husband?”

He leaned toward her. “Even though my team said they read through all the newspapers from the time, something made me take another look after finding those reports of bodies. I found him in a tiny paragraph in the
Islander
newspaper dated October 7, 1894.”

“What did it say?”

“I have a printout in my car so you can read it in its entirety later, but it talks about an accident involving the steamer
Teaser
and that the search for survivors was suspended. All passengers were presumed dead and then it lists their names. Joseph McElroy is one of them.”

“Not Mei Lien or Yan-Tao?”

“No mention of them. He was probably by himself. I dug further and found that particular steamer did a regular run between Port Townsend, Friday Harbor, Eastsound, and Bellingham. It got caught in a storm the night of September 30, 1894, and was found on its side on the beach on Lopez Island. The captain’s body was found in the wheelhouse, but everyone else who boarded in Port Townsend that day was missing.”

“You’re saying Mei Lien was widowed with a young son and no means of supporting herself? What could she have possibly done to survive that?”

Daniel’s eyes lost their glow and he shifted his feet. His voice was low as he answered, “I’m hoping we find out, but we may never know. There was another article on the shipwreck that says Joseph McElroy had a sister living in Tacoma. I have my team looking for her and any evidence of Mei Lien or Yan-Tao there in the years following.”

Hope shot through her. “Mei Lien might have moved off the island by choice?”

Daniel’s face scrunched. “What do you mean ‘by choice’? She sold the property to your family, right?”

Inara realized her mistake. “Oh yes, of course. I was just thinking it couldn’t have been easy for her here by herself. But still, it was the only home she had.” She hated herself for lying to him.

Daniel seemed to believe her, and together they turned toward the house.

“What do you say we take a break from talking about Mei Lien this weekend? And the sleeve and Joseph and anything connected to them?” For this one weekend, she wanted for them to be a normal couple who talked about normal things.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him grin. “That’s all the news I have on them anyway,” he agreed. “What do you have in mind to do instead?”

They tossed around ideas as they walked through the forest. The farther they got from the water, the warmer the air felt. Slowly, the salty seaweed smell was replaced by the warm scent of cedar boughs spiked with the spice of dry needles that crunched underfoot. The nearer to the house they came, the more she started picking up scents that were evidence of construction and her new life—fresh sawdust, pungent deck stain, diesel exhaust from the forklift unloading pallets of tile from a flatbed truck.

The smells anchored her again, pulling her out of the heavy dread and sadness that filled her when she thought of Mei Lien. She breathed deeply, washing the lingering shadows from her heart and mind, happy to have the hotel to occupy her.

“What do you say we start the weekend with dinner at the Inn at Ship Bay tonight?” Daniel asked as they passed the fountain. “My treat.”

The Inn at Ship Bay had a restaurant in Eastsound that was written up in numerous regional and national magazines, and she was dying to try it, but with the hotel, it was way out of her budget. She squeezed his hand. “I’d love that. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He turned just as she reached up to kiss him, and her kiss landed on his lips. With a sigh she gave in to the heat that always flared instantly between them, not caring that Tom or any of the construction guys might be watching.

When the kiss ended, Daniel dropped his forehead against hers. “Or we could stay in tonight.”

She playfully pushed him away. “No way.” She lowered her voice and added, “But we can make it an early night.”

His eyes flared as a slow grin spread across his lips. “I like the sound of that.”

Inara was feeling better just being with him. The hotel was coming along fine, and they’d figure things out about Mei Lien. For now she’d just relax and enjoy Daniel because being with him felt so good.

Part of her felt horrible for keeping the truth from him when he was spending so much time researching her sleeve and getting nothing for it. Of course he deserved the truth. Especially considering their deepening relationship. But, not yet. She’d have plenty of time later to figure out how to tell him her family’s secret.

BOOK: The Girl Who Wrote in Silk
2.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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