Yesterday's Promise (42 page)

Evy was stunned.

“So you see, it could be any of the Chantrys, Bleys, or Brewsters.”

“You're excluding the van Burens,” she said quietly, calmly meeting his eyes.

He smiled wryly. “Yes, although we'd have less opportunity. None of the van Burens were in England when Henry was murdered. And that can be proven.”

Thunder rumbled outside. Reminding her again of…
someone in the attic of her cottage…someone in Grimston Way
.

“If you go to see Jendaya, I think the truth will at last be known,” Heyden was telling her. “It will be up to you and me to bring the truth to Sir Julien. Naturally, Rogan Chantry will do everything he can to stop you, to stop us both.”

She knew her amber eyes must be glittering, and her face felt warm with emotion.

“We're in this together, Cousin Evy. I'll do all in my power to back you up and see you have what is yours by right of birth.”

It wasn't her “rights” that Evy wanted to fight for but the truth about Katie and whether her father was Henry Chantry.

Her thoughts of Rogan now brought pain to her heart. The memory
of his warm lips on hers had been with her through the long, lonely nights. But if Heyden was right, Rogan was absorbed in pursuing his passions, gold and the Black Diamond. Somehow she was not entirely surprised by this. Had he not always been willful and determined about Henry's map? But he must have kept his secret desire for the Black Diamond hidden.

She thought of South Africa. If only she hadn't injured her spine when she'd fallen. Would her physical limitations even permit such a long and arduous journey?

Heyden had not mentioned her crutches. He had shown discomfort at first seeing her with them. But he had seemed able to dismiss them from his thinking, almost as though denying reality. No doubt he'd done this out of regard for her, to convince her nothing had changed. If that was his intention, she felt grateful. She didn't want anyone's pity. She wanted God's grace and strength upholding her, confirming that He was at work in her life, that her impairment did not make her a candidate to be placed on the shelf as an unused vessel.

He smiled. “You look so much like Katie. I have seen her photograph. Jakob has it. You have her tawny hair, her eyes, her spirit. You will come, won't you? To your people, and to the Transvaal? It will be good to come home to where you belong.”

Home?
Evy was not able to agree, not yet.

“I can't give you an answer now, Heyden. I need to think this over, to pray before I come to a decision. This is so sudden, and there is much to think about. I'm going to Grimston Way for a few days with Mrs. Croft. After that, I'll let you know my plans.”

“Yes, you'll need to think about it. When are you leaving for Grimston Way?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You're going back to the cottage where you had the accident?” He frowned. “Do you think you should?”

“I'll be staying with Vicar and Mrs. Osgood.”

He nodded his approval. “Then I'll see you in a few days.” He handed her a calling card showing his hotel and number.

“I do hope you'll decide to return with me, Cousin Evy.”

She smiled as he squeezed her hand.

When Heyden had gone, her smile disappeared. In spite of everything he'd told her, she still remained uncertain about South Africa, about her abilities, and about Heyden.

Late that night she found she was unable to sleep as more unsettled questions tossed in her mind. Since Katie had relatives in the Boer Transvaal, then why had she become the ward of Sir Julien Bley? Why hadn't she been sent to Carl van Buren's relatives instead? And why did Katie not flee with her baby to the van Burens? Because of her love for Henry Chantry?

Evy arrived in Grimston Way with Mrs. Croft the next afternoon. “You sure you won't settle in with me and Lizzie?”

“Thank you just the same, Mrs. Croft. I'm planning to stay at the rectory, since Vicar and Mrs. Osgood have already asked me.” It would bring back so many memories staying in her old bedroom again.

“I'll be there to fix breakfast. You won't be meeting with the twins till tomorrow, will you? I don't like you going off alone without me, dearie.”

“Don't worry, Mrs. Croft, I'll be careful. There's one thing about these crutches—I can't run off easily.” She smiled, trying to lighten Mrs. Croft's worries, but the woman had remained somber ever since learning the truth about her fall the night before.

“Well, I won't worry so long as you're with the good vicar and Martha, but promise me you won't go to the cottage alone for your things.”

“I promise. Without help I can't do much about the trunks and Uncle Edmund's desk anyway. And believe me, I've no wish to mount those attic steps alone!”

Vicar Osgood had come to meet them in his jingle. After speaking to Evy and telling her that Martha had her room ready, he winked, and turning to Mrs. Croft, he said, “I'm glad you're home again, Mrs. Croft. No one in the village can come close to baking as you do. I'm looking forward to your hot fresh bread with butter while you and Evy are here.”

Vicar Osgood drew up at the rectory, and Mrs. Croft went off to the cottage in search of Lizzie. Evy worked her way toward the rectory while the vicar went ahead carrying her two small bags. Evy paused at the gate, looking toward the familiar rectory where she'd grown up. Aunt Grace's crimson roses were in full bloom, nodding their heads in the breeze. A mockingbird went through his medley of songs in the apple tree, and the white ducks quacked and waddled across the yard toward the pond.

Her heart swelled with warm, nostalgic memories. Derwent, with his russet hair and freckles, seemed to come from the trees smiling as ever. She could almost hear Aunt Grace calling her indoors to supper while Edmund studied his Bible at his parson's desk, his spectacles slipping down his small pug nose. If she turned toward Rookswood, she could envision a young Rogan Chantry riding his black horse, handsome and arrogant as ever.

A deep sigh came from Evy, and she was aware of the crutches pressing into her arms, of her fingers tightening on the handle grips. She blinked hard.
Don't be a fool. Why torture yourself like this? Life moves on, so keep going. Jesus has not changed. Depend on His faithfulness, His love, His good plans for you. He hasn't ended your life—nor is it His will for you to surrender and give up
.

She drew in a breath and walked forward, the flowers along the walkway nodding in agreement and sending their sweet fragrance her way. A blue and yellow butterfly gently flitted past her. Bees hummed contentedly at their work. A summer cloud drifted by, and for a few minutes the afternoon sun was masked. A strange sensation ran along the back of her neck. She turned her head to look toward the road where hemlock trees grew tall and shadowed the area. The branches sighed in the wind. A foreboding came with the wind that blew lightly against her face, flipping the brim of her stylish hat.

“Psst!”

Evy turned back to the garden and looked toward the Jacaranda tree, where the hiss seemed to come from.

“Over here, Miss Evy. It's me, Wally,” came a whisper.

She could not see him but assumed from the direction of his voice that he was behind some bushes, keeping out of sight.

She glanced farther ahead toward the rectory, but neither the vicar nor Martha had yet appeared. Evy left the pathway and walked toward the bushes, as though enjoying the blooming daisies and periwinkles in their display of white and blue.

“This way, Miss, by the privet hedge…I can't let anyone see me. Someone's been trailing me all week. Got my goose flesh up.”

This news alerted her greatest fear. “Are you sure? Who?” she whispered, bending over a yellow rose.

“Can't say. Someone's been watching me for two days now. Whoever it is won't catch me, though.”

She hoped Wally's notion was merely his and the twins' detective imagination, but it worried her, nonetheless. This was no game, as her crutches proved.

“Be careful, Wally. Don't take chances. And whatever you and the twins do, don't upset anyone with your snooping.”

“Oh, we're careful, all right, don't you worry none. And Hooper Detective Agency ain't snooping, Miss.”

He head popped up between some bushes, his straight brown hair ruffling in the breeze beneath a droopy forest green felt hat. He grinned. “Miss, can you meet us at the pond in an hour?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I'll be there, but remember what I said about being careful.”

“Sure, Miss Evy. We'll be there too. Say, welcome back, Miss.”

Evy heard the vicar calling, and Wally quickly dived back into the bushes.

“Coming, Vicar,” she called over her shoulder and walked back to the pathway.

Soon after luncheon when the vicar took his afternoon snooze and Martha was busy at the back of the rectory, Evy was able to slip away from the house and make her way into the familiar garden and down
the path to the pond. Thankfully, it was only a ten-minute walk, and she was able to get there without stopping to rest. She was becoming more accustomed to the crutches, and her daily exercises to strengthen her back and spine seemed to be helping. Perhaps one day she would, as Dr. Harris had said, need but one crutch—or only a cane.
Please, Father, let it be so
.

The pond was a pleasant retreat this summer afternoon. The white swan was out gliding on the water, doves were lying in the sun on the warm ground, and sparrows chittered, perched high in the trees overhead.

She walked to the stone bench and set her crutches down, looking around for Wally and the Hooper twins. The pond was a sheltered area, enclosed with hedges and birch and elm trees. The weeping willow fluttered its branches in a swaying dance over the pond. The gray water rippled contentedly below a clear sky.

Evy sat down on the bench and waited, glancing about for some sign of the children. All was silent and peaceful. She had left a few minutes early, so she tried to relax and soak up the sunshine. How nice it was to be back home.

The branches scraped behind her, and she turned her head.

“Psst, it's me again, Miss. Is it all clear?”

“Yes. Are the twins with you?”

“No, their mum kept 'em in for piano lessons. Since you left, Mrs. Tisdale's been giving them their lessons. But it's okay, because they don't know any more than I do. And I'm the one who has the stuff hidden.”

A moment later he stood up from the bushes, a tall boy for his fourteen years, with long arms.

“Maybe it would be best if you'd come back here so no one can see us, Miss.”

Evy stood and made her way into the cluster of trees and bushes. Wally's eyes glistened and his face was flushed. He gestured to a sack that he had under a bush.

“It's in here, Miss. A dark blanket of some odd sort.”

Evy felt a wave of repulsion. Yes, that awful dark thing the intruder had worn for concealment.

“It was this way, Miss…”

Wally told his tale of what had happened that frightful afternoon back in October.

He had left the parish hall at Mrs. Croft's request to go to the cottage to see why Evy hadn't come to the supper.

“By the time I got there, I was soaked. I hammered on the door, but you didn't answer. So knowing as how Mrs. Croft would've sent me back anyway if I'd just gone back to the supper saying you didn't answer the door, I went ahead and tried the knob.

“Well, it was unlocked, and I went inside. I stood there and called to you a couple times, but you didn't answer. First, I thought Mrs. Croft was wrong, that you might've been at the supper, and we just didn't see you. But that didn't make no sense, either. Then I smelt smoke. It came from the kitchen. So I walked there, still calling your name. When I got to the pantry, I saw you lying there at the bottom of them attic steps. I was scared to death, Miss. You looked dead to me. It was a week or two later I got to thinking about how things were. And it seemed a bit strange to me. So I talked it over with the Hooper twins, and they thought the same thing.”

He swallowed, and Evy asked, keeping her voice calm, “What did you think was strange, Wally?”

He took a step closer, lowering his voice even more, and glanced around the trees and bushes as if someone was following him.

“Well, it was the lamp you had, Miss. The one you must've brought with you up them attic steps.”

“Yes, I carried a lamp…”

“Well, I remembered there was something about how it was lying on the floor that bothered me. Well, when I mentioned this to the twins, we all three decided it was time to go back and have a look. So we went back there and got in through a window. The first thing I looked for was pieces of the lamp, but the broken glass had been swept up since
that awful night. Mrs. Croft probably swept up after you was taken up to Rookswood and London. But we three had us a careful look around the attic steps and—hope you don't mind, Miss, but even up in the attic, and…well, we found a thing or two that made us more curious.”