Beyond a Doubt

chapter Forty-Six




Olga and Max tiptoed around each other all day. Max was still angry. They waited to see if she had been right. Gustav had followed the young Fraulein with hopefulness. No word had come yet.

“Where is he? We’ve been waiting all day.”

With knitting in her hands, and not looking up, Olga responded, “Patience, Max.”

“Olga, how can I be patient!”

Olga didn’t answer, and she glanced out the window for any sign of her brother’s coming. The midday meal came and went and still no Gustav. As the evening sun descended, a knock happened upon the door. Max reached the entrance first. She hung back, hiding.

“Guten tag. I mean, hullo?”

“Good evening, sir,” said a small child outside the entry, ignoring the accidental slip into Max’s native tongue.

“Good evening,” repeated Max. Olga peered around the corner. With the greeting reciprocated, the young lad passed over a slip of paper, tipped his hat, and scampered off.

Olga stared at Max as he unfolded the paper. When he finished reading, Max glanced at her. The paper fluttered to the ground as Max said, “Gustav is gone.”

****

The waves pushed the small boat to and fro. Lucy grasped the rail and held it tightly between her white fingers. Water sprayed and splashed up the sides, washing over her face. Anyone watching wouldn’t be able to find where the tears ended and the spray began. Couples moved aside as they passed her sobbing frame. She didn’t try to stifle the flow of tears as crying kept many curious souls at bay.

Bryce had done so much, too much. The man had his whole life ahead of him. Her life had already been determined; her destiny was to save people from death. After she contacted the Admiral, there would surely be another Joshua, and the whole process would begin again. There was always someone in danger.

As Lucy peered longingly across the Channel, she felt someone watching her. She turned to see a man with a piece of straw between his teeth. He appeared to casually glance at her then shifted his gaze to the disappearing English coast.

This was her first trip across the Channel alone, so she was already nervous. The way that man tried to hide that he was watching her added to her fear, and Lucy tightened her cloak about her. Moving ever so slightly, she joined a group of fellow travelers. Within a few steps, Lucy blended with them, accepted without question.

The group moved en masse and Lucy stayed with them. The man trailed behind them. Lucy smiled and pretended not to notice. She discreetly watched her follower for the entire journey.

The boat arrived at the French harbor and as the passengers disembarked, Lucy hurried off, constantly looking over her shoulder. The man following her kept up with her, even though she increased her pace. She acquired a carriage almost immediately, faring well as a lone woman traveling to Caen. She took a quick glance back at the man, who looked stunned as he watched her ride away.

Leaning her head against the padded cushion, she tried to relax. Each time her mind eased, thoughts of what she’d left behind haunted her.

Bryce had been sound asleep, snoring innocently.

With trepidation, she’d slunk into his room and laid the prepared note upon the unoccupied pillow. She had scrawled out a hastily written letter in an effort to explain her actions.

Lucy yearned for Bryce’s understanding. As the scenery passed by, she breathed deeply. Right about now Bryce would be waking to an empty house. Would he ever understand why she ran away? Would he ever forgive her?

****

No doubt the woman took pride in the merry goose chase she’d led him on. Imagine leaving by horse in the wee morning hours and traveling all the way to Portsmouth. Why, several times the young lady had come within a hair’s breadth of breaking her neck. She followed no known paths, but seemed to create her own way.

They’d reached the town in record time. Gustav had followed her onto the boat. The crossing was his least favorite thing to do. The sway of the boat made him sick, and most of the time he spent the entire trip leaning over the rails. But not so with this excursion.

The focus of this trip, to watch Lucille Lombard, kept him occupied. Not only did the woman fit the accounts of L.L., but her behavior after Olga’s revelation had been erratic and suspicious.

Bile rose in his throat as the waves shifted. He clutched the railing, his hands white with tension. The young lady moved away and joined a large crowd. Gustav wasn’t fooled. To put her suspicions to rest, he moved farther back but not out of sight. He found a place to sit and rested.

His behind ached from the hours of riding. Imagine taking a boat across the Channel at this hour? The moon lit the way. Hopefully the captain of the vessel could read the stars and his instruments, or they could be thrown off course and land at the wrong destination. Her bravery despite this possibility testified to the fact that Miss Lombard fit the description of their spy.

He needed a way to approach her and gain her trust. Little did she know they needed each other. They were on the same side. Fear and hiding for so long kept her wary of everyone.

When the boat approached Caen, France, Gustav was determined to reach the woman and tell her his identity. But he was too late.

She fled the boat as soon as it touched land. He found himself running along behind her hackney. With no way to find where she went and no way to catch up, Gustav realized they were doomed.

****

Morning dawned. Bryce jumped from the bed. Today he would declare his intentions and demand a response. No more of this dancing around each other.

With breakfast prepared and placed on a tray, Bryce carried the items toward Lucy’s room. The first step in the hallway alerted him. Something was wrong. The house was too quiet. Every footfall echoed. Every breath taken came back to him as if in a hollow room.

Tray balanced, Bryce continued. He glanced into the open doorways, which revealed ransacked rooms in need of repair. Lucy hadn’t been in the house long enough to even pick-up her scattered clothing.

He found it harder to breathe as he edged closer to Lucy’s room. The bedroom door was open. From the hallway he saw the empty bed. Her cloak was gone. The blue silk bag that held the fan no longer sat on the side table. The tray slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.

A vague memory filtered through his mind. He remembered the touch of a warm hand and a familiar scent drifting over him while he’d slept.

Bryce rushed back to his bedroom and spotted the piece of paper. How had he missed seeing it this morning? His fingers trembled as he grasped it. He unfolded it carefully until it opened completely. He lit a candle for extra light and illuminated the scrawled words.

Bryce,

Thank you for your continual assistance but this is not your fight. You never agreed to rescue anyone, but I did. You must understand that my life will never change. I must complete my mission. I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Feel free to return to Scotland and become a sheep farmer with Crissy by your side. I’ve come to realize I’m not who you need. Keep safe. You will forever remain in my heart and prayers…

Lucy

The air in the room suddenly felt thick. The paper drifted to the floor as Bryce punched his fist into the bedroom wall, and winced in pain.

“Blast it all!”

Uncommon anger caused his blood to surge through his veins. He picked up clothes scattered around the room and thrust them into a brown sack, which he threw over his shoulder. First he checked every window and door to make sure they were secure, then he wrote a note and left it behind in case the Townsend twins happened to stop by.

From the stable, he retrieved Emissary. Even the horse looked lost as she pawed at the ground and sniffed the air for Lucy’s mount. Bryce threw a blanket over the horse’s back and mounted up. Reins firm in his grasp, he turned the horse out of the stable, onto the road, and toward home.

Scotland had become like a dream in the last couple of weeks. A place he’d once called home. A place of beauty, peace, and tranquility which he would always remember but where he might never again return.

It was time to go home and put his life in order. The sheep, the land, his family, and even Crissy needed consideration. But as he guided the beast out of town and toward home, the animal protested.

“What is wrong with ye? She doesn’t want us.”

The great beast neighed.

“The lass has made her choice. She’s decided to save the world without us.”

The equine’s head rose and it stomped its feet.

“Of course I offered to go with her. But she ran off in the middle of the night.” Bryce raked his hand through his unkempt hair. “Now stop tryin’ to change my mind. We are goin’ home just like she said.”

The horse stopped in the middle of the road and snorted. No matter what Bryce did, Emissary refused to budge. Every tug on the reins proved fruitless; she wasn’t moving.

Dismounting, Bryce faced the horse. “Listen here. She doesn’t want me. I professed love to her and she ran away, if that tells ye anything. I don’t know what I was thinkin’, tellin’ her my heart like that. I should have known.”

Bryce rubbed the horse’s nose. “Now understand me, we are goin’ to ride toward home and that is that.”

The horse jerked her head away.

“What would ye have me do? I can’t pursue a woman who doesn’t want me. Don’t ye understand?” He threw his hands into the air. “Now I’m arguin’ with a horse. The woman has clearly gone and made me daft.”

With a whinny, the horse turned and raced back toward Lucy's home.

“Come back here!” he yelled as he followed. The horse easily outdistanced him. By the time he reached the Lombard home, he was sweaty and out of breath. Emissary grazed on a bush.

Without thinking Bryce swung up onto the horse again. This time the animal reared, threatening to dump him to the ground.

“What do ye want from me? Why canna ye not understand she doesn’t love me?”

“Probably because you are talking to a horse,” came the words of a passerby.

“Now look what ye’ve done. The neighbors think I’m a loon. Why don’t I just let ye lead the way? Would that make ye happy?”

Emissary’s head flung back and she galloped off. The route taken by the horse led them past the far end of the city. Bryce had no idea where they were going. He thought they were headed toward the English coast. The smell of moisture in the air was at least a decent clue. The sight of water hitting land was another.

The beast rode right to the docks, stopping only when it reached a boat that rocked in the water with every wave. Bryce dismounted and Emissary nudged him.

“Fine. I’ll ask.” He cleared his throat and gained the attention of the boat’s captain. “Sir, I’m seeking passage.” At this point Emissary knocked him in the side and whinnied loudly.

“Problem with your horse?” asked the seaman.

“It seems I need to acquire passage for both of us.”

The captain’s head reared back with laughter. When Bryce said nothing, the man coughed and said, “How do you propose to pay for this journey?”

“Good question,” Bryce mumbled.