Page 13 of Alive (Shadows of a Forgotten Past #2)

CHAPTER 13

~ SCARS OF WAR ~

We bid our friends farewell that morning. These remarkable children had bravely recovered from their traumatic past, their resilience awe-inspiring. Amid great adversity, they had clung to life, to their goodness, to the hope of a brighter day. Indeed, even after my two life experiences, my progress felt infinitesimal compared to theirs.

I would miss them—all except for one. Eldad remained at the manor. Thomas had arranged it, and Eldad shouted for joy when I asked if he would like to stay. The only pending detail was a trip to London. To obtain official custody, I needed to complete the paperwork in person.

I readjusted my apron and headed outside. Martha would be on my case if I didn’t return soon with the thyme for supper. The plot of land, populated with vegetables and herbs, stretched out before me.

The Haywoods were here, assessing the weeds on the pathways.

“They’ll be the death of me,” Mr. Haywood grumbled.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Mrs. Haywood calmy advised.

The groundskeeper waved a dismissive hand at his wife’s comment.

“Even with the weeds, this garden is remarkable. You have done an extraordinary job,” I said to both.

“That’s kind of you to say, dear.” Mrs. Haywood smiled.

Mr. Haywood didn’t respond, but his eyes shone with pride.

“Mrs. Haywood, before I forget—I’ll be moving Eldad to a bedroom close to mine.”

“Very well. I’ll bring you fresh linens.”

“Thank you.”

“If I may say—what you do for the boy is a blessed deed. You will be rewarded with unimaginable happiness.” The kindness in her words was clear, but I sensed something more—an unspoken depth behind them.

The groundskeeper yanked another invasive plant by its root, hurled it into the wheelbarrow along with the rake, and departed with a stiff nod.

“Is he all right?” I watched him trot away, wondering why he’d retreated so hastily

“Don’t mind him. Old Haywood is used to his ways. Always moving, always busy.”

I had never thought of her husband that way. He was hardworking but also a well-centered, well-mannered man. Had my mention of the boy stirred something in him? Longing for his son, perhaps?

“What about the blue room down the corridor from yours?” Mrs. Haywood reverted to our previous conversation. “It’s always sunny, and there is plenty of room for the little fellow to enjoy himself.”

“That’s the one I had in mind. I may order a few things for it. There aren’t many toys or children’s furniture in this house.”

“Will is a talented woodworker. He could build a rocking horse for the little one.”

Will. His name brought to memory his earnest character and sweet smile. “Have you heard anything from him?”

“Only what you told me—that he’s coming home. Every morning, I tell myself that today is the day, but it never is.”

“I feel the same about Alex. But really, it shouldn’t be long now.”

Zaira popped into the yard, her steps urgent. “This just arrived in the post.” She waved a telegram.

Mrs. Haywood and I exchanged apprehensive glances. Did it concern the men we loved?

“It’s from Clarence!” Zaira exclaimed.

“Tell us he is all right,” I said, my heart missing a beat.

“Now, girl, do tell us,” Mrs. Haywood pressed.

“Well, he is not dead. He’s been injured in action and sent back to London for treatment,” Zaira sputtered. “He’s scheduled for surgery on his shoulder tomorrow.”

“Oh, good,” Mrs. Haywood said. “If it’s just his shoulder that needs the knife, he’ll be up and running in no time.”

“I’m so glad he’s safe.” I considered Clarence part of our family—not only for his pleasant disposition but because he meant so much to Zaira. “You must go to him at once.”

“Yes, that will cheer him up all right.” Mrs. Haywood nodded approvingly.

Zaira lit up like Piccadilly Street during the holiday season. “You think so?”

“Of course. Mr. Brown will drive you to the train station, and you can stay at Alex’s flat in London.” The neighborhood had thus far been spared from the bombings. It would be perfect for her stay.

“I’ll help you pack,” Mrs. Haywood offered.

“Thank you both.” Zaira embraced us briefly and hurried into the house with Mrs. Haywood on her heels.

I smiled, elated for my friend’s happy day. Hopefully, mine would come soon.

* * *

Thomas was on the phone again. This time, I knew it wasn’t good. I could feel it in my bones.

“It’s Alex, isn’t it?” I muttered into the receiver.

“I’m afraid so.”

“He is not dead.” My free hand gripped the edge of the table. “Please, don’t tell me that.”

“No, I can’t say he’s dead. However, I can’t say he’s alive either. We don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? What happened to him?”

“Please, Florence, take a breath. Calm down.”

“Seriously?” I let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Yes. Seriously,” Thomas replied sternly, his tone bringing me back to my senses.

“I’m sorry. Go on.” I drew a long breath.

“Alexander and Commander Haywood were on their way home, but there was an incident—an unusual and completely unexpected one.

For security reasons, they were required to sail on different vessels. One of them boarded a passenger ship, the other a merchant vessel. The passenger ship was attacked and sunk. Some were killed or lost at sea. I don’t know which ship Alexander was on.”

“What you are saying is that either Alex or Will is dead, and you don’t know which.” I felt as if the ceiling had collapsed, burying me ten feet underground. If it was Alex, I would be utterly lost and devastated. If it was Will, the Haywoods would. And, of course, I would grieve him too. He was young and intelligent, with so much to experience and enjoy in life. Winning, this time, seemed out of reach.

“Until we have more information, we don’t know who or even if one of them died,” Thomas said diplomatically. “There are some survivors. I’m still waiting to hear from the medical ship that rescued them.”

I could be many things, but I wasn’t a fool. If Alex had survived the wreck but wasn’t quickly recovered, he couldn’t have lasted long in the icy ocean. The same was true for Will. Yet, some survivors awakened a spirit of hope, and I clung to it steadfastly. Thomas was right—until I had proof otherwise, they were alive.

“I’m doing all in my power to find out more. You’ll know as soon as I do,” Thomas assured.

“Please do. Ring anytime, day or night.”

“Will you relay the information to the Haywoods?”

“I will. Thank you, Thomas.” The idea of telling the Haywoods terrified me. The news would strike them like a deadly bullet.

I walked out of the office with a heavy heart. Mrs. Haywood appeared at the end of the corridor, holding a vase of flowers and a soft smile—a smile I was about to erase.

“Oh dear, you look grim,” she noticed. “Are you unwell?”

I made up my mind. Until I actually knew what had happened, I wouldn’t burden her or Mr. Haywood. “I think I overdid the horseback riding today. My entire body hurts.” It did, but not because of the horse.

She observed me curiously. Did she suspect my lie?

“I’ll lie down for a while,” I said hastily. If I didn’t escape her presence, I would crumble to the ground in tears.

“Let me know if you need anything,” she offered.

I avoided her gaze and hurried past her.

* * *

The joyous laughter of the couple filled the foyer and drifted into the library. I hurried to greet them, and in that fleeting moment, life felt bearable.

Zaira glowed with happiness. Clarence, aside from the crutch under his left arm and his apparent exhaustion, looked quite content.

“Welcome home, Clarence.” I embraced him, then Zaira. “It’s wonderful to have you back. We did our best to care for the horses, but I’m afraid they don’t like us as much as they like you.”

“Oh, Mrs. Sterling, I doubt that. But I’ve missed them terribly.”

“Bring them a treat now and then, but no work until you’ve fully recovered.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t worry, Florence,” Zaira said. “I’ll make sure he follows the doctor’s instructions. And truly, thank you for letting me stay in the flat in London. The city is in chaos. The bomb sirens go off when you least expect them. All one can do is run for cover like a headless chicken. It’s terrifying, but I always felt safe in the flat, and being so close to the hospital was a blessing.”

“I’m glad it worked out. Now, don’t let me keep you. Mrs. Haywood and Martha have cooked up a storm in anticipation of your arrival. They are eager to see you.”

“That’s thoughtful of them.” Clarence grinned. “I’ve been dreaming of their cooking since I left.”

“He thought the army food was dreadful—until he tasted the hospital’s,” Zaira teased, laughing.

“Go on, then. Enjoy the feast.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Sterling.” Clarence shifted on his crutch and started toward the kitchen.

“I’m truly happy for you,” I whispered to Zaira as she walked past me.

“Thank you.” She beamed with joy.

I climbed the stairs to my bedroom seeking solitude. The conversation I’d had with Alex by the stream replayed in my mind. He’d been adamant that, if he didn’t survive the mission, I should remarry and start a family. At the time, the idea had been so alien, but now, with the responsibility of raising Eldad, it pressed me to reconsider. But I simply couldn’t. After risking my eternity to have a second chance with him, I couldn’t accept a life without him. The possibility of not seeing him again, of not feeling his warmth or hearing his voice, was maddening. I dropped onto the bed and wept bitterly.

* * *

The grounds were soaked in sunlight, the stone statues gleaming like Roman gods amid autumn’s tapestry of reds, yellows, and oranges.

“Florence, Florence!” Eldad called from the French window. “Come see the book Mr. Haywood brought me from town.”

I joined him inside. We sat on the sofa, flipping through the pages of a beautifully illustrated volume about the horses and ponies of the New Forest.

“This pony is called a Shetland.” I pointed to an image.

“He’s chubby.” Eldad giggled, crisscrossing his legs.

“Chubby and lovely, isn’t he?”

“Mm-hm.”

“This one is a workhorse. His breed is called Clydesdale.”

“He looks strong.” Eldad turned the page, his eyes bright with curiosity. “Wow, I love this one.”

“You know what he’s called?”

He shook his head. “No, tell me.”

“It’s one of Britain’s best—the English thoroughbred.”

“Can we get one?”

“Umm . . . we’ll have to ask Alex when he gets home.”

“And if he says no?”

“We’ll have to find a way to change his heart.” I smiled.

“We’ll cook a delicious supper for him,” Eldad decided. “Martha says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

I burst out laughing. Nothing went unheard by the boy. His sweet spirit and amenable character never failed to uplift me. I then recalled the exuberant meals Martha had prepared for Doctor Wales—she certainly had a soft spot for him.

“Why are you laughing?” Eldad asked innocently.

“No reason.” I swallowed hard, regaining my composure. “Oh, look, here is a white pony.”

He took over the book, tracing the text with his finger, he read the animal’s description. “He’s about my size.”

“Not quite, but he’s the perfect size for you to ride alone.” Until now, Eldad had only ridden with me. “Would you like to learn to ride a pony?”

“Me? Can I?” His gaze filled with a look of wonder.

“Most certainly. We’ll have to find a pony first, but it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“I can’t wait!”

“Florence!” Zaira’s voice interrupted. “Where are you?”

“In the sitting room.” I turned toward the threshold. “What’s the matter?”

“There is a military truck approaching,” she wheezed, out of breath.

“Stay with Eldad.” I dashed into the corridor and out the front door.

The vehicle traveled fast, dust and pebbles rising in its wake. Could it possibly be that Alex was home? Or were they here to notify me of his passing? The truck came to a sudden stop, its doors flying open. I couldn’t breathe, my heart beating out of rhythm.

Thomas jumped out. “Good afternoon, Florence.”

A second man leaped out. Will.

My eyes remained on the vehicle, praying for one more passenger. Not today. The only man still in the cabin was the driver. Will had made it home, and I was grateful for that, but Alex wasn’t here. My mind and heart went numb. I couldn’t think, couldn’t feel.

“Mrs. Sterling.” Will nodded softly, his eyes on the ground.

“Welcome home, Will,” I said quietly, though I truly meant it.

“Thank you.”

I found Thomas’s gaze. “Alex?”

“We still don’t know. Commander Haywood confirmed Alexander was aboard the ship that went under. That’s all we know with certainty. The medical ship was rerouted for safety reasons, and it hasn’t arrived yet.”

“I’m deeply sorry, Mrs. Sterling,” Will’s voice cracked. “I wish there was something I could have done.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but my voice was lost, buried beneath the awful possibility of a life without Alex.

“Don’t lose hope.” Thomas placed a hand on my shoulder, conveying his love and sympathy.

Fighting back tears, I looked up at Thomas. Just like in the past, his unwavering friendship was a stabilizing force. Even when the world felt colorless and muted, drowned in sorrow, I stuttered, “I won’t—not until he comes home, dead or alive.” I knew then that, like the ghost of Lady Catherine di Leccio, I would forever wait for Alex, the anchor in my life.