Uncharted Hope (The Uncharted Series Book 5) Read online

  Her fingers tingled as she watched steam curl inside the vial. Within seconds, the steam darkened, briefly resembling smoke more than steam. Whatever was happening was different from every time before.

  She checked the tubes and hoses. Everything appeared to be in its place. She leaned over the worktable to get a better look at the cloud swirling in the vial. It wasn’t the product of combustion, but a vapor of tiny light specks churning ferociously.

  She touched the glass vial. It vibrated in small but rapid pulses as if its contents were humming. The hum flowed through her nerves and sparked her excitement. This was it! The contraption was working.

  After disconnecting the hose, she sealed the vial and carried it to the window to get a better look at it in the sunlight.

  Her excited hands stilled.

  The gas inside cleared as it cooled, but the flecks of light still glistened. As she turned the glass vial, her fingers seemed to disappear on the other side of it.

  She laid it across her palm, and though the glass and the gray leaf particles inside were clear, she couldn’t see her skin through it but only a hazy golden brown of the floor below. She lifted the fabric of her dress. Its blue flowered print also disappeared behind the vial as the gray leaf substance bent the image of the floor into the glass.

  “What’s that?” Lydia asked as she closed the door. She held the baby on her hip and a stack of folded rags in the other arm.

  Sophia hadn’t heard them come into the office. “It is what I’ve been looking for.”

  “Already?”

  Sophia held it up to the window. “Watch the light inside it,” she lowered it to her dress, “and now look through it.”

  Lydia sucked in a breath, set the towels on her desk, and reached for the vial. “Sophia, this is incredible!”

  While Lydia inspected the vapor-filled vial, Sophia rushed to the worktable and grabbed her journal. She flipped back to her notes from when she had taken care of James. “Do you remember when I asked how we would have given James Roberts the gray leaf medicine if he had stayed unconscious?”

  Lydia nodded but was still holding the vial to the window, mesmerized by the concentrated gray leaf substance.

  Sophia inched closer as if magnetically lured by the vapor. “What if we administered the medicine as an inhalant?”

  Lydia slowly lowered the vial, her mouth slightly agape. “There is great potential here. We would have to conduct many careful experiments before giving this to a person.” A smile broke her astonished expression. “If the gray leaf has the same healing power in vapor form as it does in liquid form, this could save lives.”

  * * *

  Late in the afternoon, Nicholas stood outside the medical cottage with his knuckles poised to knock on the door. His hand hovered in front of its white surface, casting a hesitant shadow. His heart ached to see Sophia, but Dr. Bradshaw might not be so keen on his visit.

  This was the doctor’s place of business, and Nicholas respected Dr. Bradshaw’s desire to keep a professional image. This was also Sophia’s home, and it was customary for a man to go to a woman’s home and make his intentions known when he wanted to court her.

  Observing the customs showed respect. Surely Dr. Bradshaw would appreciate that. And even though Sophia had told him not to go to Woodland to speak with her father, it was also a display of respect. Surely Sophia would understand too, even if she didn’t appreciate it.

  Connor had advised Nicholas to wait before asking Sophia to court again. “Be cool about it,” he had said.

  Whatever that meant.

  It had been two weeks since Nicholas had asked Mr. Ashton’s permission. Waiting any longer seemed contrived. He didn’t play games when it came to affection.

  Sophia’s feelings about him had grown; he knew so even if she hadn’t shown it. She had opened up her locked heart the day he drove her home from Alice’s house. That was enough to solidify his desire to rescue her with his life. Hope had fueled his determination to earn her trust and capture her heart. It had him rushing through his farm chores every day and knee-deep in renovations on his house at night—the house he planned to make their home.

  But first, he had to ask her to let him court her.

  If she refused him this time, he would accept it as final. It might crush him but only a fraction more than the uncertainty of the present. He could not hide from potential rejection any longer. Whatever her answer, he had come here to meet it boldly.

  He knocked briskly.

  Dr. Bradshaw opened the door a few inches. “Hello, Nicholas.” The doctor neither asked if he was in need of medical care, nor widened the door for him to enter. She knew why he was there. Connor must have told her to expect a visit soon.

  Nicholas’s tongue went dry. It wouldn’t stop him. “I’m training with Connor this evening in the barn, but I came early, hoping to speak with Miss Ashton… with your permission, of course.” He remembered he was still wearing his hat and yanked it off. “If she isn’t busy at the moment, of course.”

  Dr. Bradshaw gave him an appraising look. Maybe she would notice his fresh shave and crisply ironed clothes and understand his earnestness. He straightened his posture.

  She showed no sign of being impressed. “I assume this is a private matter.”

  “It is.”

  She stared a moment longer then looked toward the Colburn house, then the road, and then the path that led to the shore. Finally, she held up a finger. “Give us a moment, please.”

  He stepped back. “Yes, of course.”

  A polite smile curved the outer edges of her lips as she closed the door.

  He rubbed the brim of his best hat between his fingers while he waited for the door to open again. Muffled female voices whispered inside. A tabby kitten rounded the cottage and stopped to smear its whiskers against his trousers. He stooped to pet it but no sooner had he stroked the length of its spine and the door opened, wider this time.

  Dr. Bradshaw folded her hands, demurely. “Sophia will be right out. I’ve suggested the two of you go for a walk. Does that suit you?”

  “Indeed, Dr. Bradshaw. Indeed it does. Thank you.”

  Dr. Bradshaw glanced back at the staircase. Quick taps descended the steps behind her, but Nicholas couldn’t see what was happening inside the cottage. As he craned his neck to see around Dr. Bradshaw, Sophia skirted the newel post, wearing a white summer shawl over her blue flower-print dress.

  A quick breath filled his lungs with hope.

  As Sophia stepped outside, a sweet smile graced her lips. Everything else disappeared. There was no waning sunlight or medical office or Colburn anything, only Sophia’s genuine delightfulness.

  She looked back at Lydia. “Thank you, Dr. Bradshaw. I will return shortly.”

  “No need to hurry,” Dr. Bradshaw said casually, as she sank into the office and closed the door.

  Sophia’s fingers played with the fringe of her shawl. “Dr. Bradshaw said you wanted to go for a walk.”

  “Yes.” Nicholas drew a long breath as if Sophia’s presence could be inhaled. “To the shore?”

  Color warmed her cheeks. “The shore sounds lovely.”

  He wanted to offer her his arm. If he could reach out, he would also be able to say what he needed to say. If she accepted his arm, she might also accept his offer of courtship. He raised his elbow to her, testing them both.

  “Oh.” Mild surprise laced her voice. “How mannerly of you.” She took his arm with a light touch. It wasn’t quite the confirmation he had hoped for.

  He led them across the Colburn property and along the path through the wooded area that guarded the shore. A salty ocean breeze stirred, cooling them as they traipsed between the trees. Sand and pine needles thickened underfoot. The path he chose seemed to provide more of a hike than a walk. He felt like he was rushing them and slowed their pace through the forest.

  He looked away from the path long enough to catch a glimpse of her profile. “How is your work going with the gray lea
f?”

  Happiness illuminated her porcelain face. “I had a breakthrough today in my research.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I successfully isolated the gray leaf’s airborne particles.”

  He didn’t understand what she meant, but it made her happy. “Excellent. Was Dr. Bradshaw pleased?”

  “Indeed. She’s been downright giddy all afternoon. As have I.”

  “Then I arrived at the right time.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Never mind.”

  She kept her hand loosely hooked through his arm and motioned with the other hand as she spoke. “The substance we captured brought more questions than conclusions, but we believe it will have medicinal benefits beyond gray leaf tea and salve.”

  Her unfading smile held his attention. He only glanced away to guide them down the forest path to the shore. The more she explained about the gray leaf releasing a sparkly substance, the further his mind wandered from her words. He could listen to the soft cadence of her enchanting voice forever.

  Finally, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gazed at him. “I’m sorry. I do prattle on, don’t I?”

  “Don’t apologize. I like it.”

  She looked ahead. “How are your house renovations progressing?”

  “Quite well. I cleaned out the interior and started replacing joists.” He lifted a wayward sprig of a gray leaf tree as they passed beneath it. “And last Saturday, Connor and some of the men helped me replace the roof. We finished the job in one day.”

  “That’s wonderful. How many men worked on it?”

  “The six of us from the security team.”

  She glanced behind them then lowered her voice. “Where is it?”

  “If you turn west at the chapel, follow the road past the graveyard, and go over the incline, mine is the old cabin on the right.” He chuckled once. “Well, it was old. It’ll be like new when I’m done with it.”

  “Sounds lovely,” she said then went quiet for a moment. “I meant where is the security team?”

  “We train in the Colburns’ barn, mostly.” They approached the clearing and the ocean came into full view. “But Connor is about to teach us additional weaponry skills.”

  Her eyes widened. He had said too much.

  The tide was out. Distant waves crashed in an arrhythmic hum. Seabirds cried as they drifted above. The wind rumbled inside his ears. He raised his voice over the sounds. “There is something important I need to ask you.”

  Sophia didn’t respond, but only let go of his arm as they stepped from the forest to the beach. He hoped it was the change of terrain that caused her to withdraw her hand, and not the change of subject.

  Her fingers returned to the edges of her shawl. “I know you went to Woodland with Connor.”

  “I did.”

  “And I know why.”

  “You do,” he stated more than asked.

  “It wasn’t just to get furniture and tools from your parents’ house, was it?”

  “No.”

  She stopped walking and faced him. The light sparked flecks of gold in her brown eyes, but the dark thoughts behind them removed every trace of happiness. “Did you speak with my father?”

  “I did.”

  “Was he… kind?”

  “Not especially.”

  “Was my mother there?”

  “No.”

  She cast her gaze toward the ocean. “Alice was right.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Now that you have seen for yourself… have seen where I came from and how I was raised… why would you want anything to do with me?”

  He had to save her from wherever her thoughts were taking her. He reached for her hand, trying to regain her attention. “I asked your father for permission to court you, and he gave it. It doesn’t matter if he was kind about it or what problems your parents have. It only matters that I have the chance to love you as you deserve to be loved.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. Her fingers curled into his, accepting his hold. “Why?”

  He almost chuckled. “So, we’re back to that? Well, at first you made an impression on me with your beauty. I knew in my heart we were meant to be together, but you told me I didn’t know you. Remember that?”

  The faint smile lines around her mouth twitched, but she still didn’t meet his gaze.

  “I’m getting to know you,” he gently tugged her hand until she looked at him, “and that impression you first made is now an indelible mark on my soul. I see before me an intelligent, resourceful woman who wants to use her gifts to make the world a better place. A woman who will go to great lengths to avoid conflict, but isn’t afraid to stand in the middle of two fighting men and beg them to make peace. A woman whose heart beats for the thrill of discovery and who loves her family as much as she needs to solidify her identity apart from them.” He wrapped her hand in both of his. “And I see a woman who wants her own family someday but needs a slow courtship with plenty of room to breathe.”

  She silently studied him so closely he ached to kiss her. The wind loosened thin strands of her hair, waving them across her cheeks. His fingertips burned to tuck them behind her ear, but he dared not move while he awaited her response.

  At last, a slow smile warmed her eyes. “You seem to understand me better than I understand myself.”

  Elating hope steadied his anxious heart. He moved a half step closer. “Then will you allow me the privilege of courting you?”

  “I will.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bailey hurried to the stoop of the condo where Justin Mercer lived with his mother. Once out of the rain, she knocked on the front door and mentally counted the thirty seconds it usually took for the older woman to rouse from her stupor. Then she knocked again. Straightening her backpack straps, she glanced down the street where Professor Tim waited in his compact electric car.

  Justin’s mom opened the door a crack, its chain still attached to the frame. She peeked out with one bloodshot eye. “He isn’t here.”

  Bailey acted surprised and checked her watch. “He said to be here for work at ten thirty.”

  Justin’s mom huffed. “He went to beg that moron of an admiral for another psych exam. Swears he’ll pass it this time.”

  Bailey pointed up at the rain clouds. “Mind if I wait inside? I have a bunch of work to catch up on.”

  “Work,” the older woman snorted. “Is that what you girls call it these days?” She left the door open and staggered back to her dip in the sofa.

  Bailey closed the door but left it unlocked for a quick escape then slinked down the hallway and into Justin’s bedroom. The sharp scent of the gray leaf saplings welcomed her. Beneath the scent lurked the musky undertones of a man’s bedroom.

  She remembered the scent well from a plethora of childhood foster homes, but especially one house: the Polk family. Her summer stay at their farmhouse was the only time she’d lived in the country. Mr. Polk read the Bible to the family every night, and Mrs. Polk kept a vegetable garden and canned her own preserves. The two Polk boys shared a bedroom that smelled like this one—ripe with boyish mischief.

  She promised herself then—at ten years old—that someday she would live on a quiet property with a vegetable garden and read the Bible. The love of plants instilled in her by Mrs. Polk during those short few months had sparked her desire to study botany. When she applied for college, her need to secure a job in the tech heavy economy led her study to plant pharmaceuticals, but her heart longed for Mrs. Polk’s vegetable patch.

  She dropped her backpack on the floor and pulled out the empty folded-up duffle bag she’d stuffed inside. Between the two bags, she had room for the saplings, the compact computer drives, and the device Justin had used to analyze the airborne particles.

  She started at his meticulously kept desk. He had left everything in its place. After unplugging the devices, she shoved each item into her backpack, listening in case he came home early. When she
only heard the soft patter of rain, she continued her theft.

  Theft. It sounded bad but was for a greater good, as Justin had said. When he’d said that, he spoke of exposing the Land and its people—her people—in order to steal its resources. Her actions would secure the Land and its people by keeping their resources hidden.

  Zipping the devices into her backpack, she opened the duffle bag for the saplings, but before she moved away from the desk, one last item caught her eye: the sunglasses case. Justin always looked good in his aviators. She didn’t have to open the case to know the sunglasses hid inside; he was that orderly.

  She had never owned a pair of nice sunglasses. She was already a thief. What could it hurt to take his aviators?

  After slipping the sunglasses case into the front pocket of her backpack, she opened the closet, turned off the grow light, and knelt beside the hydroponics tank. The four gray leaf tree saplings had wilted. Something wasn’t right.

  Nothing was right. The gray leaf tree didn’t belong here. It was created for the Land—for the people of the Land—not for PharmaTech or Global or the Unified States Military.

  After unwinding the ties that held the saplings in place, she gently tugged them out of their watery home and laid them in the duffle bag. “Sorry about this. I wish I could have watched you grow and studied you, but this is for the best. Trust me.”

  She backed out of the closet and then sprayed the closet ceiling and walls with a potent mixture Professor Tim had assured her would alter the molecular structure of the residue left by the gray leaf.

  After turning the lights off, she crept out of the bedroom. Justin’s mom slept sitting up on the sofa with the decade-old soap opera blaring from the television. Bailey opened the door, taking care not to make a sound.

  Professor Tim drove the car to the front of the condo. He popped the trunk, and Bailey hurriedly dropped her bags inside, slamming the trunk lid shut. She slipped inside the passenger’s side and closed the door, muffling the rain.