Uncharted Journey (The Uncharted Series Book 6) Page 8

  Isaac sat on the edge of the chair and threaded the brim of his hat between his fingers. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t know.”

  “That’s quite all right. My husband passed away a long time ago.” She sat and picked up the letter from Isaac’s last employer. “You haven’t been in the trading business long, have you?”

  “No ma’am. Only four months.”

  “Not taking to it?”

  He shook his head. “Not like I thought I would. I promised my boss to stay on until he finds someone else.”

  She’d hoped whoever she hired would be able to start immediately. “Yes, that’s admirable.”

  Isaac continued, “I am ready to go back to farming. That’s what I’m good at.”

  She pointed her pencil at the letter. “So Mr. Ashton of Southpoint says.” She read part of the recommendation letter aloud. “Isaac Owens was the best farmhand in my employ. He is hardworking, honest, and has a keen sense of the land.”

  Isaac pressed his lips together reverently. “He was very generous.”

  “Why not go back to work for him then?”

  A sadness darkened his eyes. “Southpoint isn’t the best place for me.”

  Her mother couldn’t wait to get back to Southpoint and this man didn’t want to return. He seemed too young to have a past. She set the letter aside. “How old are you, Isaac?”

  “Twenty-five last week.”

  He was only a year younger than her, but she felt twice her age most days. He was a grown man and deserved privacy about his past as much as she did hers. “We’re close in age, you and I. However, my father is over seventy. He and Leonard both have difficulty with their work now. Leonard has severe back pain, but he forces his body to keep going. You will see what I mean while you work with him today.”

  Isaac nodded. “He told me all about the farming operation here, and it wouldn’t be too much for me to manage. In fact,” he straightened his posture, “I have a few ideas for how to increase production.”

  She held up a hand. “I’ll leave that between you and Leonard. If you are hired, Leonard will still have a say in how the farm operates.”

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s fair. I’m ready to work with him.” His enthusiasm was like a fresh breeze blowing across the hills in summer.

  She hoped he still felt as eager after spending a day working with Leonard. “Do you have any questions about the job or the inn?”

  He pointed up. “Would I be living in a guest room upstairs or the farmer’s cottage?”

  “Upstairs until we could build you a place. The cottage belongs to Leonard and Claudia. Leonard is my father’s first cousin. He moved out here from Riverside when Father inherited the inn.”

  Isaac nodded then looked at the floor while he thought. After a few seconds he said, “I guess that’s all. Do you have any questions for me?”

  She studied his young face. Surely, he had a life somewhere. “Would you be comfortable living this far from the villages? Wouldn’t miss home or a sweetheart or anything?”

  He grinned. “I prefer country life and I don’t have a sweetheart.”

  Sybil dropped something in the kitchen, and the clink of metal hitting the floor echoed across the hall.

  Isaac turned his face toward the sound. “The food here is the best I’ve tasted. Who is the cook?”

  “My sister, Sybil.”

  “Sybil,” he repeated softly as if her name held magical powers. He kept his gaze on the hallway a moment longer. “Yes, I reckon living here would suit me fine.”

  Life at the inn might suit him, but a day with Leonard in the fields would prove whether he suited them. It was far from final, but the possibility of having the first position filled almost made her sing. She kept her joy tamped and offered her hand. “Excellent. Work with Leonard today. We’ll talk more this evening.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Bailey climbed an outcrop of volcanic rock and scanned the shore. Seagulls crowded the beach, some running along the sand, some dive-bombing the shallows. The tide had erased Bailey’s footprints from last night, along with the prints of Micah, the crewmen, and the tender they had dragged onto the beach. The men’s bodies had been buried hastily in a cemetery Bailey had never seen, and even their marks in the sand were gone. Now the hard-packed beach was corrupted only by two fresh sets of men’s boot prints and thousands of bird tracks.

  Bailey looked down at John from her rocky perch. She had to raise her voice above the squawking gulls. “I thought you said Connor and Revel were here now.”

  “They must have taken the path through the village back to my house.”

  She wanted to contact Tim on the radio but remembered Justin saying all electronics had been banned here. Connor feared generating signals would make the Land detectable to the outside world. There was no way Bailey was letting her two-way radio get confiscated. She fished her binoculars out of the pack’s side pocket instead.

  The thick foliage of gray leaf trees, pines, and hemlocks followed the shore northward until it faded into the horizon. To the south, the outcroppings multiplied until they blended into rocky bluffs that rose high above the ocean. Violent waves crashed against the cliffs, spraying foam and mist into the air.

  She lowered her binoculars. “How far did your men search last night?”

  “From the bluffs,” he swooped a hand from the south toward the north, “up to Weathermon’s Point.”

  “Maybe Tim heard the gunfire from his boat and turned back to the sea.” Through the binoculars she searched the ocean’s surface. The morning sun reflected off the water in blinding rays. “If he doesn’t know it’s safe to come ashore, he might be staying out there on purpose.”

  John scratched his trimmed gray beard and glanced around. “Connor had his telescope when he and Revel came back here this morning. Since there are only two sets of footprints leaving the beach, they must not have found your friend.”

  A thought hit her like a sucker punch. “Or they apprehended Tim and carted him back to the village like a dangerous criminal.” She shoved the binoculars into her backpack and hurried down from the rocks. “We have to go back to your house.”

  “Connor and Revel are both fair men. They would not—”

  “They don’t know Tim is harmless. He’s a scientist and a kind man.” Her words poured out on stunted breath. “And he might not feel well.”

  John put a hand on her shoulder. “Try to calm down, Miss Bailey.”

  She jerked away from him and walked a tight circle in the sand, reminding herself more of a pouting brat than a world-ranked fighter. Something about John made her feel like a child in need of comfort. She stopped in front of him. “You don’t understand. Tim lost his family during the water poisoning. I lost all of my friends, my coach, everybody. Everybody but Professor Tim. He made this journey possible for me because he wanted me to meet my… to have a better life. I don’t have any family at all. Tim is my only friend. I can’t lose him too.”

  John lowered his chin and studied her intently. He was quiet for a moment, as if choosing his words delicately. “We will do everything we can to find your friend.”

  She swallowed the emotion from her outburst. “Thank you.”

  He raised a finger. “But you should know the currents are violent around the Land. If your friend has not come ashore yet, it is unlikely he will. You would be wise to prepare yourself for any outcome, Miss Bailey.”

  Something in the gentle way he spoke made her want to fall into his arms and weep like a lost little girl. It would be foolish to depend on someone she’d just met, even if she’d already given him a glimpse of her feelings. She hadn’t meant to. This was no time to let down her guard. She didn’t know John Colburn. So what if they were related?

  So everything.

  The only reason she’d destroyed Justin’s gray leaf saplings and his proof of the Land’s existence was to protect these relatives she’d never met. Tim had encouraged her to find the Land for the very purpose of connecting
with others who shared her Colburn roots. Now the patriarch of that family stood before her and she was holding back.

  She turned her face a degree so the ocean wind would hit her square on and keep her hair out of her eyes. “Listen, it’s not Miss Bailey. I know you’re being polite, but Bailey isn’t my last name; it’s my first. My name is Bailey Colburn.”

  His eyes rounded, showing white above the blue. “Colburn?”

  “I’m a botanist from Accomack County, Virginia. Justin Mercer hired me for a research job with the gray leaf saplings from the seeds you gave him. He chose me because he discovered I’m a descendant of the same Colburn family that you are.”

  “How exactly?”

  “My fifth great-grandfather was George Colburn, the brother of William Colburn, your ancestor who settled here. Justin thought my being related to you would make me trustworthy about the Land’s existence.”

  John drew his head back. “Mr. Mercer swore he would take the secret of the Land to his grave. Many of the men on our elder council doubted his sincerity. I left it in God’s capable hands.” He went quiet for a few seconds then a faint grin lightened his expression. “And you were mistaken.”

  “I am?”

  “You said you don’t have any family at all. It appears as though you do.” He stepped away from the rocks. “Come, have some breakfast, Bailey.”

  Looking at the vacant shoreline tightened her chest. “It doesn’t feel right to leave here and go have breakfast while Tim is still missing.”

  John nodded. “We will tell the others about your friend and form a search party but not on empty stomachs. Come.”

  Bailey walked beside John along the sandy path through the forest. He pointed out a pile of stacked stones, saying it was a cairn erected in 1861 when the founders arrived in the Land. As they exited the forest, he pointed to a flagstone with a C engraved in the center. “This marks my property’s bounds. This was my father’s property before me and his father’s before him and so forth for generations. It is our tradition that the firstborn son inherits his father’s property and profession.”

  “What if the firstborn is a girl?”

  He shook his head. “Our founders established the traditions to provide order.”

  “Sounds misogynistic.”

  “I believe there is wisdom in our traditions, but many here have made other choices. My son included.” He looked up at the big brick house as he spoke. “But with God’s help, we came to an agreement.”

  When they reached the house, the back door was still open. The aroma of blueberry muffins welcomed Bailey as she followed John into the warm kitchen.

  Dr. Bradshaw stood in front of a baby’s high chair. She was in the middle of picking up her toddler when she noticed Bailey. She froze for a moment, and the baby’s legs dangled over the high chair’s crumb-covered tray. Connor and Revel were sitting at a long wooden table near a stone fireplace.

  Connor’s gaze shot up at Bailey. His cheek bulged from the bite of food he’d just taken. He slowly rose while chewing his food. Revel dabbed his lips with his napkin then glanced at Connor and stood too, as if it were the custom. Connor’s vicious glare left no doubt he wasn’t standing out of old-fashioned manners.

  Though Bailey was tempted to match Connor’s stare and see who might blink first, she shifted her gaze to acknowledge his suspenders-wearing comrade. As soon as her eyes met Revel’s, he looked down at the table.

  Connor threw John a glower. “What is she doing here?”

  “The same as the rest of us.” John maintained a friendly tone as he stepped in front of Bailey and pulled a chair out for her. “She is having breakfast at my table.”

  Dr. Bradshaw plunked the baby on her hip and pointed at a wide doorway to the next room. “Connor, may I see you in the parlor for a moment?”

  Connor kept his suspicious stare on Bailey. “Lydia, take Andrew upstairs.”

  Bailey didn’t need to be treated this way. “I’m not going to hurt your kid.”

  Connor cocked his head. “You had no right to come to the Land.”

  “Neither did you.”

  John raised his voice slightly. “Enough!” When the room fell quiet, he looked at his daughter. “Lydia, you may take Andrew upstairs if you need to attend to him, but he is not in any danger here. Everyone else, sit.”

  Revel dropped into his seat.

  Bailey obeyed John because it was his house and because she could easily pop out of the chair and escape if she had to. She lowered her backpack to the floor but kept one hand on its strap as she sat on the edge of the ladder-back chair.

  Connor waited until Bailey sat then grudgingly lowered himself to his seat.

  Lydia watched Connor for a moment with concerned eyes then left the kitchen, the baby babbling happily as if all the excitement in the house was fun.

  John picked up a breadbasket and offered it to Bailey. A stack of blueberry muffins filled one side of the basket and thick slices of iced pumpkin bread covered the other. She glanced at John and when he nodded once at her, she took a muffin.

  Revel stood so quickly his chair screeched on the floor. All eyes followed him as he walked to a cabinet beside a double-basin sink and drew out a ceramic plate. He took a pewter cup from another shelf and placed them in front of Bailey. Then, he slid a milk jug closer to her and a bowl of boiled eggs.

  “Thanks,” she said as he returned to his seat.

  Connor shook his head at Revel.

  Revel shrugged in response.

  They both turned their attention to John as if waiting for his lead.

  John selected a piece of pumpkin bread from the basket and cut a bite with the side of his fork. “I believe formal introductions might put some of this animosity to rest. Bailey, meet my son-in-law, Connor Bradshaw, and our houseguest, Revel Roberts. Connor and Revel, meet Bailey Colburn.” He pointed his fork at Bailey. “She is my long-lost cousin.”

  Connor raised his black eyebrows. “You have to be kidding me.”

  “Not at all,” John answered then quickly returned to his introductions. “Bailey, you already know Connor is from your country, came to the Land four years ago when he was ejected from his aircraft, and is now married to my daughter Lydia. What you might not know is that Connor has made it his mission to keep the Land safely hidden from the outside world. He has proven his abilities and leadership to such a degree that our village elders have agreed he should train to one day take my place as Good Springs’ overseer.”

  Bailey almost snorted. This guy with the belligerent stare? He was going to have John Colburn’s job someday?

  Then John faced Connor, occasionally allowing his gaze to shift to Revel. “Bailey is a botanist from Virginia. Mr. Mercer hired her to help him with the gray leaf seeds we sent with him to America.”

  Connor’s nostrils flared. He opened his mouth like a protest was clambering to get out, but he stopped short of speaking as John continued.

  “Mr. Mercer chose Bailey to help him because he discovered she shares my family lineage. He thought that meant she would be trustworthy.”

  Connor sneered at her. “Well, you certainly showed him, didn’t you?”

  If it weren’t for John’s kind hospitality, Bailey would have reached across the table and ripped the arrogance off Connor’s face. Instead, she glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Mercer trusted you, and you brought men to our shore with guns drawn.”

  She shouldn’t let Connor get to her. He was the one who’d been prancing around in the dark, teaching the locals how to shoot to kill. If he was going to ignore the fact that she wasn’t armed, she was going to ignore him. She turned her attention to Revel, but when he immediately looked down at the table, she shifted her gaze back to John. At least one man here knew how to listen. “Justin Mercer hired me to take care of the gray leaf saplings he’d grown from the seeds you gave him. He wanted a full molecular analysis so he could take it to the military in hopes of regaining his job status
. I was the only person he showed the gray leaf to. When I realized the plant was unclassifiable and demanded to know where it was from, he told me about the Land and how my relatives ran aground here in the eighteen sixties.

  “His gray leaf saplings were dying. I tried to save them, but Justin said he would have to lead the military here to the Land to get mature trees. He wanted to use the gray leaf medicine to make the Unified States a world power again so it wouldn’t join Global.

  “I couldn’t let that happen. So, I told Professor Tim about the gray leaf tree because I needed his help to save the Land. We stole the saplings and destroyed them along with Justin’s data. I thought Justin would come after me. I wasn’t afraid of him, but Tim suggested we try to find the Land ourselves.

  “He contacted his nephew, Micah, who operated a charter yacht company out of South Africa before the war. Micah only does humanitarian runs out to Tristan da Cunah now.” She looked at Connor. “He did, anyway, before you and your goons killed him.”

  Connor didn’t have a quick rebuttal this time. The disdain in his eyes lessened. He leaned forward, listening.

  John’s hands were calmly folded.

  Revel’s gaze hadn’t left the table. Either he wasn’t very bright or the firefight had left him shell-shocked.

  She reached down into the front pocket of her backpack and took out the sunglasses case that contained the dark aviators and the note from Justin. “Anyway, Micah agreed to take Tim and me to the coordinates I’d stolen from Justin’s data. He hired two guys to come with us in case we ran into trouble. On our way out to the coordinates, I found this in my bag.” She held the sunglasses case out to Connor. He opened it and stared, expressionless, at the aviator sunglasses inside.

  She passed the folded slip of paper to John. “He wrote me this note.”

  John read Justin’s note aloud: “Bailey, I knew you would do the right thing even though I couldn’t. If you make it to the Land, give these sunglasses to Connor Bradshaw. Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist if I left them on my desk. You can’t keep them. They belong to Connor. Tell him all the evidence of the Land has been destroyed, and I will make sure the Land stays hidden. Take care of yourself, beautiful. The rest is up to you. J.M.”