The Ghosts of Aquinnah (22 page)

“
We’ll take the Indians’ boat to Cottage City and slip onto one of the freight boats,” she said. “No one will notice us. We can hide in the hold. And I know it’s a short trip to the mainland. My father went to New Bedford once. He told me all about the trip when he returned.”

Christopher caressed her hand with his roughened fingers. “Are you sure you want to do this, Stella? If they catch us…”

“
They won’t catch us,” Stella said firmly. “And yes, I’m sure.”

“
I hate to put you at risk.”

“
You’re not putting me at risk. I’m doing it to myself. And, what choice do I have, anyway? Do you expect me to just ignore the fact that I’m the reason you’re locked up here like an animal?”

“
Don’t say that,” Christopher said, shaking his head. “You’re not to blame.”

“
Of course I am. If not for me, you never would have been anywhere near my house when they found Josiah. You know it’s true, so don’t condescend to me by pretending it isn’t.”

Christopher couldn’t help but smile. “Yes ma’am.” He paused and let out a breath. “But they would have found me soon enough whether I’d been there at the house with you or not. Don’t blame yourself.”

“
I shall blame myself. You wanted to run, Christopher. By the time those idiots found Josiah’s body we could have already been on a steamer to New Bedford.”

“
Alright, lass. I know better than to argue with you.”

“
Good.”

“
And I know when it’s time to change a subject.” Christopher waved his hand around the small cell. “But I’m afraid there’s not much to talk about here in my new home.”

“
We don’t have to talk,” Stella said as she caressed Christopher’s cheek through the bars she longed to snap in two. “We can just sit together.”

“
We can, but I like the sound of your voice, love. I miss it when you’re not here.” He kissed Stella’s hand and turned his face towards hers. “So tell me. Since you know these islanders a damn sight better than I do, who do you think really killed Josiah?”

Stella remained silent, pondering whether or not to share her theory.

“
What is it?” Christopher asked.

Stella let out a deep breath and dropped her voice to the softest of whispers. “I think he killed himself.”

Christopher couldn’t hide his surprise. “What? Why would he do that?”

“
Because he was ill. There was something dreadfully wrong with him and he was in terrible pain, but he’d never admit that to me. Still, there was no doubt of it.”

Christopher thought back to his trip to Cottage City to pick up Josiah’s medication orders. “Mrs. Luce told me he was ordering more pain medications than normal,” he said. “More laudanum, I suppose.”

Stella nodded. “Indeed he was. I’ve found a large supply stashed in one of his desk drawers. I plan to add some to my bromide cake.”

“
Still though. Even if the man was ill, do you really think he would shoot himself in the chest?”

“
Why not, if he was dying anyway? Maybe the pain had become unbearable and he couldn’t live with it anymore.” Stella paused and bit her lip.

“
What is it?” Christopher asked.

“
When Josiah beat me, he told me he wasn’t done. It was a warning, I know it. He was saying that he wasn’t done hurting me. I think he wrote the note that framed you to hurt me. He didn’t want me to be happy with you.”

“
He thought you wanted to be with me?”

“
He did.” Stella raised her green eyes to Christopher’s. “And he was right about that.”

“
And he was right that I wanted to be with you too.” Christopher raised Stella’s hand to his face and brushed his lips against it. “My cailín álainn.”

“
You never did tell me what that means.”

“
Beautiful girl,” Christopher said.

Stella blushed and brought his own hand to her lips to kiss it.

Christopher glanced around at the bars of his cell and the basement jail. “But look at us now. If you’re right about Josiah’s plan, I’d say he won, wouldn’t you?”

“
No I would not,” Stella said. “I’ve told you my own plan and I shan’t let it fail. I’ve got all the money from Josiah’s safe and we’ll be on our way to Savannah before you know it.”

Christopher smiled and leaned back against the wall of the cell, holding Stella’s hand in his lap. “That would be lovely.”

“
Not would be. It will be.”

Christopher kissed her fingers one by one. “It will be. You’re right.”

“
No one will know us there. We’ll be free of all of this.”

“
You’ve convinced me. But I do have one question for you,” Christopher said.

“
What is it?”

“
What shall become of Grover? I’m quite fond of him, I have to say.”

Stella smiled. “Mr. and Mrs. Mayhew are going to take care of him. I couldn’t just abandon him.”

Christopher nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. He’s a fine horse.”

“
He’s the only thing left on this island that means anything to me.”

“
Probably time for you to leave us, Mrs. Winslow,” Zebediah yelled from his chair.

Stella jumped at the harsh sound of his voice, startled that the man was apparently not sleeping as she had assumed. She had nearly forgotten he was in the room. But still, he couldn’t possibly have heard her talking; she’d made sure of that. She quickly pulled her hand from Christopher’s and stood up from her chair.

“
Of course. I’ll be on my way, Mr. Johnson.”

Stella cleared her throat and stole a last glance at Christopher. “Tomorrow,” she mouthed.

Christopher nodded and blew her a kiss. “Tomorrow,” he mouthed in return.

Stella walked out of the basement and ascended the stairs without looking at Zebediah Johnson. She failed to notice the smirk on his face as he watched her leave the room.

****

Stella paced around her kitchen as she waited for evening to arrive. She’d delivered her precious cake filled with sedatives to Jon Coffin at the jail a few hours earlier and she had no doubt he was now sleeping soundly at his post. She only needed darkness to get Christopher out of the jail without attracting attention.

She imagined the two of them riding Grover through the woods to Gay Head on a path she’d known since she was a child and used to walk to the cliffs with her mother. She felt a rush of adrenalin and took a deep breath to calm her nerves and slow her rapidly beating heart. She couldn’t let herself panic. She’d run through every detail of her plan more times than she could count, and now all she had to do was set it in motion.

Trying to steady her nerves, Stella thought of the life she and Christopher would have in Savannah. She imagined a new house near the sea and a plot of land where she could raise sheep while he worked at the nearby docks. Perhaps she would even be able to have the children she longed for and had so far been unable to carry. She was still young and had plenty of childbearing years ahead of her and she felt certain her problems would end now that she was no longer trapped with Josiah. She and Christopher could have three or maybe even four children, and a dog to snuggle at the children’s feet while she read to them each night. She would be surrounded by family and would never feel alone again. Everything would be better once she was away from this island that had become such a source of pain for her.

The sun finally disappeared into the sky, and Stella left the home she had lived in for her entire life. She felt no regret as she closed the door behind her for the last time. The love she’d once felt in the home had long since disappeared. She climbed on top of Grover with her one bag of belongings swung over her shoulder and rode off towards the Tisbury town hall.

Stella knew something was wrong as soon as she and Grover reached the hall. The door to the hall was hanging open and Jon Coffin sat outside on the porch, nowhere near his post in the basement. Worse, he was wide awake and clearly not under the influence of any sedative. Stella saw her cake broken into pieces on the ground next to him. Next to the cake an unlit torch sparked on the grass, its embers still burning even though its flame had been extinguished.

“
Back so soon, Mrs. Winslow?” Jon said, tipping his hat in mockery.

Stella dismounted and tied Grover to the post. “What’s happened?” she asked. “Why aren’t you at your post?”

“
No need for me to be. No one for me to guard down there.”

Stella’s stomach turned over and she could taste bile rising in her throat. She walked towards the hall and broke into a run as she reached the top of the stairs and saw the basement door hanging wide open.

“
Christopher?” she called out.

She heard Jon laughing behind her as she ran down the steps. “You’re not going to find him down there, you stupid girl. I told you, no one’s there.”

Stella’s blood pounded in her ears as she entered the basement and saw the empty cell in the corner.

“
Where is he?” she yelled, frozen in place. “Christopher?!”

She heard footsteps behind her and swung around to come face to face with a grinning and obviously intoxicated Jon Coffin.

“
How many times must I tell you, Mrs. Winslow? He’s not here.”

“
What have you done with him?”

“
Zebediah and a few others didn’t think we could trust New Bedford when it came to justice on our island. You know how folks feel about the mainland.”

“
Tell me what you’ve done with him.”

“
Zebediah thought we should take justice for the doc into our own hands. He and the boys have merely taken your mucker lover back where he came from.”

Stella shook her head, unable to make sense of the words. How could they have taken him back to Ireland? “What do you mean, where he came from?”

Before Jon could speak, Stella knew the answer to her question. It was perfectly, and horrifyingly, clear. She turned on her heels and ran back up the stairs to the outdoors, where she was grateful to find Grover still there waiting for her.

She heard Jon yelling behind her as she lifted herself into Grover’s saddle.

“
You and the mucker should have been quieter about your plans, Stella,” he called, taunting her.

Stella cursed herself for her carelessness the previous day. She should have realized Zebediah had heard her talking. But she’d been so sure he’d been dozing from the bromide and not paying her the slightest attention.

She shook her head and forced herself to forget about the mistakes she had made yesterday. The only thing that mattered now was that she find Christopher. And she knew exactly where he was. He’d come here from
The City of Columbus
, washed up on the island thanks to the ravages of the sea. Stella knew without a doubt that Zebediah and his henchman had taken Christopher back to Gay Head.

Stella rode through the night along the path she had planned to take with Christopher, Grover’s hooves thundering beneath her as she urged him to run at his fastest speed. She rounded the bend in the woods and saw the red glow of the lighthouse come into view. Her heart nearly stopped as she saw the light of torches competing with the lighthouse in the night sky. Judging by the amount of torches bobbing in the distance, Zebediah had enlisted a mob to help him go after Christopher.

“
Hurry Grover, please,” she cried out, digging her heels into the horse’s sides. Grover neighed in response and crashed through the bushes at the edge of the path. The horse and his rider continued on into the clearing around the lighthouse.

Stella heard screams and catcalls followed by delirious laughter. She slowed Grover to a walk and tried to push down the fear exploding in her chest. She could see Christopher in the center of a group of men, his hands tied behind him and his head covered by a hood. The men pushed him forward as they waved shotguns in the air. Zebediah walked ahead of them holding a gun over his head and crying out for justice.