“Is something wrong with your breakfast, Miss Anna?” Momma Elliott waited for the verdict.
Anna stopped pushing the food around and put down her fork. “No. Everything is wonderful.”
Momma Elliott crossed her arms. “Then why are eggs still on your plate? Do you have bridal jitters?”
Anna caught herself rubbing the thin, raised line on the side of her face. She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m fine.”
“Out with it, girl.”
“I always pictured my wedding in...well, something more bridal than any of my three skirts or traveling suit. God has done so much for me, and here I am moping about a wedding dress after I told Stewart I didn’t need anything fancy.”
“Child, there is nothing wrong with wanting to look special on your wedding day.” Momma Elliott cleared the plate.
“That’s kind of you to say.” She gestured toward her face. “I thought I was all right...” She dropped her hands back to her lap. “Well, considering no dress will cover what’s on my face, it is a foolish vanity to wish for one.”
“You are lovely, my dear, no matter what scars you bear.”
“Thank you, Momma Elliott. Talking helps. I shall content myself with my traveling suit. It is the least threadbare of all the garments I own.”
“Oh, no, my girl. We’ll get you a dress.”
Anna shook her head. “Even if God dropped the fabric in my lap, there’s no time to make something.”
“Wait here a moment.” Momma Elliott left the room and returned with paper and a fountain pen. “Not make. Borrow.”
“Borrow?”
She sat and wrote. “Are you a parrot, child? Yes, borrow. One of the abandoned rubber plantations was purchased last year. After some unfortunate problems with his manager, the new owner has come in person to set the operation right. And he has his niece in tow, a Miss Reynolds, a young woman about your age. I met her at church.”
“She attended your church?”
Momma Elliott stopped writing and cackled from deep within her belly. “Walked in the front door right after the chorus of the first hymn. One look at the cut of her clothes and the color of her skin and everyone waited for her to turn around and walk back out. She’s been to every meeting since and sits with me.”
“Impressive. And you think she might loan me a dress?”
Momma Elliott finished writing, folded the paper and handed it to Anna. “Not just any dress, an actual wedding dress. Miss Reynolds is a generous spirit whose maid accidentally included the trunk with her wedding dress with the others being sent ahead to the steamer.”
“But you said she was Miss Reynolds. Will she mind another woman wearing it before she does?”
“No child, she’s not here to marry. I’ll let her tell you the story behind the dress if she so desires. But for now, trust me. She’ll be happy to put that dress to good use. Now take this note to the American Legation, where they are staying temporarily, and ask for her.”
Anna jumped up and hugged her until Momma Elliott disengaged her arms and insisted, “Now, get on with you. She’s taller than you, so we’ll need time to put in a hem.”
Anna took two steps and stopped. “Are you sure she will welcome a visitor at this early hour?”
“Child, you’re getting married this afternoon. She’ll understand.”
Anna put on a light wrap and her hat and gloves. She reached the front door and grabbed an umbrella from the brass stand. She opened the door and called out, “Tell Stewart where I’ve gone if he rises before I return.” She stepped onto the porch. The dry season produced little rain. Did she need an umbrella? If she carried the dress back herself, her hands would be full.
No, a woman in Miss Reynolds’s position would send it back with her via a servant. The umbrella might not see the first drop of rain, but it still had its uses, if only to discourage any of the roaming livestock that grazed the turf-covered streets of Monrovia.
She went down the porch steps and headed in the direction of Broad Street. The first sliver of sun had arrived and lightened the night to an early-morning gray. Even so, she had a few brief seconds of warning as two Kru men rushed out from between the buildings.
Not again.
She turned and ran toward the boardinghouse. Fingers brushed her arm. Stewart slept in a back room. She screamed anyway, hoping for help from any quarter. The fingers gained purchase on one arm and jerked her to a halt. She swung her umbrella with her free hand until it connected with the man’s head and produced a satisfying smack, followed closely by his howl of pain.
She took a breath to scream again. The second man clamped a hand over her mouth and the first wrenched the umbrella from her. Both proceeded to drag her toward a narrow alley.
She struggled to go anywhere but where they wanted. If she could just get one of her arms free, they’d find out how dangerous a woman with a hat pin could be.
Assailant One ordered the other to subdue her. Out of his pants pocket came an unwelcome white cloth. She took a deep breath in through her nose before the hand against her mouth relaxed, and she screamed a staccato sound, quickly sucking in more wholesome air before the drugging cloth was in place.
Someone had to have heard.
She held her breath and sank an elbow into soft flesh behind her, all the while trying to twist her face away from the anesthetic covering. An answering grunt of pain, and the chloroform-laden fabric slipped from her face. She sucked in saving air before the cloying drug was replaced again.
This time both men held her tightly. She struggled not to breathe. Tiny black pinpoints appeared in her sight and her lungs burned with need.
Tears filled her eyes, blurring everything. She couldn’t hold out. Her vain desire to look beautiful on her wedding day had cost her the chance to walk down the aisle at all.
* * *
The smell of fresh biscuits woke Stewart. For a moment he lay still, enjoying the aroma and contemplating the day ahead. He’d finished filing a timely report detailing the limited amounts of gold he’d found, the area’s iron-ore deposits and the instability and warlike nature of the groups in the area. Work was behind him for the moment, and all his focus centered on marrying Anna later today. Anticipation propelled him out of his warm bedding.
He dressed and shaved quickly, then pulled the bay rum out of his kit and patted it on. His Winchester hung by the door, but carrying it to the altar might turn a few heads. He slipped his knife into the scabbard, making sure his dress jacket hid the weapon. Even without Leopard Men, Monrovia had proved to have its own dangers.
Satisfied, he opened the door. The hinges needed a serious oiling.
Not the hinges. A high-pitched scream he recognized at once.
He grabbed the rifle and ran down the hall.
A very agitated Momma Elliott had almost reached the front door. “Hurry, Mr. Hastings, they have Anna.”
He threw open the door and heard an angry howl. “Stay here. Or go for the constables. I can’t protect two women at once.” He ran out and spotted a gentleman in his bedclothes standing just outside the doorway of a residence halfway to Broad Street. The man saw him and shrugged, then pointed to a spot midway between their positions. Anna must have been dragged into one of the narrow passages between houses, or even inside one.
Where are you, Anna? Lord, help me find her. I can’t lose her now.
A short scream gave Stewart direction. He ran to the far edge of the house he’d identified and peered around the corner. In the narrow pathway, a native in blue calico pants and a white flannel singlet stood with his back to Stewart, blocking a full view of Anna and a second man. Had to be the same guys.
Stewart fired a round into the air. Both men froze.
“Step away from her now before I decide that letting you live is too much trouble this time.” They released her and took a step to the side. Stewart kept his rifle on them and moved toward a red-faced Anna, who was bent over and desperately sucking in air. Stewart held out his free hand and motioned for her. “Anna, I need you to come over here and get behind me.”
She ran to his side.
He tried to maneuver her behind him, but met with resistance. “I’d feel safer with you behind me. Just in case these two get any foolish ideas.”
Her voice trembled. “When will you learn, Stewart? That request didn’t work for you last time.”
“Last time you were unconscious.”
“No, I mean when Nana Mala threatened you. I wouldn’t hide behind you then and I won’t now. Behind you is not where I belong.”
He reached out and pulled her close. “How about by my side?” He whispered, “Forever.”
Momma Elliott called his name.
He answered, “Over here.” The two men he held at gunpoint glared.
She came up behind him. “I’ve got the constables.”
He spared a quick glance. Three uniformed men stood behind her.
The warrior grandma he’d come to love edged around him, ahead of the constables.
“Careful, Momma Elliott. These two are dangerous.”
While the constables secured them, she launched into a tirade. Beyond Gradoo’s name, Stewart understood only her rebuking tone. Both men hung their heads at her words.
Stewart spoke low and asked Anna, “What is she saying?”
Anna stayed pressed to his side. She answered, “Imagine the worst scolding you ever received and then imagine much, much more. Wait...this is interesting. She’s asking them why they’d do such a thing. She’s reminding them that they might hang if they don’t speak up.”
The one called Gradoo lifted his head and mumbled. Momma Elliott barked at him. He answered, but this time more distinctly. Or at least it probably was if you spoke Kru.
Anna pulled away from Stewart at Gradoo’s answer.
“Anna, what did he say?”
Anna looked at Gradoo, back at Stewart and at Gradoo again. Her color went ashen. “He says he was paid to capture me. A rich white man promised him a lot of money and told him I’d be coming out of the jungle soon.” She blinked rapidly. “Stewart, the telegram from my father. Could he be here instead? A white man, a telegram hitting just the right notes to get me to leave the jungle... Was this all a part of some scheme of his?”
Stewart could see the hurt roll off her. “Anna, I’m sorry.”
The constables marched the prisoners away and Momma Elliott shook her head, saying, “This is a terrible thing. I am not sure I can keep them from hanging. Especially since they can’t name the man who paid them or identify where he’s staying. They will carry all the consequences.”
“So Anna is still in danger.”
Momma Elliott nodded. “We need to keep her safe, preferably out of sight.”
Anna’s velvet-soft voice carried iron determination. “No. This is our wedding day and I intend to stand in front of Bishop Michaels today, danger or no danger, dress or no dress, by your side, Stewart. I refuse to allow my father to spoil this for us.”
Stewart was torn. He stroked her cheek gently with his hand. “Anna, there is nothing more in this world that I want than to watch my beautiful bride walk down the aisle. Your safety...”
Momma Elliott interrupted, “Then again, Mr. Hastings, maybe marriage is the best form of safety. Her father doesn’t want her dead, or those two wouldn’t be trying to kidnap her. What better way to protect her than through marriage? Her father will lose any legal standing in her life, no matter what he has in mind.”
The weight on Stewart lifted. “Momma Elliott, what would we do without you?”
She looked back at him, cocked her head and said, “Be late for your wedding, for one thing. You two need to hurry if we’re going to be at the chapel by two. Escort Anna to the Legation House so she can pick up her wedding dress and I can alter the fit. Now, I have a cake to put in the oven. Get on with you.” She walked away like a woman on a mission.
Stewart waited till she was out of sight and glanced at Anna. “I guess those were our marching orders. But there’s something I must do first.”
She looked up at him. Stewart pulled Anna into his arms and stared into the depths of her brown eyes. He bent down and skimmed her lips with a gentle restraint. Her soft mouth pressed into his in response, and he tenderly kissed her again, enthralled at the fullness of love she brought to his life.
He pulled back, banking the fires of his love till the bishop made them one. “So I hear we have a wedding dress to acquire?”
She grinned. “Imagine the scolding we’ll get if we keep Momma Elliott waiting because we were kissing in the streets.”
He took her by the arm. “One reprimand a day is enough. Let’s go.”
They headed down Broad Street, past the harbor landing and the government buildings and on to the American Legation. Stewart put aside the distraction of the kiss and turned to the job at hand. Let Anna dream of lace and frippery while he kept a wary eye on the people they passed. Until they were married and her father behind bars, Anna was still in danger.
* * *
Anna stood in her silk chemise, stockings and bridal slippers with her arms held high while Momma Elliott and Miss Cady Reynolds slid the elaborate satin-and-lace dress over her head and into place.
She reveled in the feeling of femininity the fabric imparted. Initially, she’d cried off borrowing the dress when she’d recognized the magnificent gown as a couture piece, far too costly to risk spoiling. Cady argued that she’d worn the gown once, but it was obviously meant to bring happiness to someone besides herself. Her insistence that it would mean everything to her to watch someone truly in love wear it down the aisle finally swayed Anna to agree. Silently, Anna prayed for Cady and asked the Lord to bless her generous new friend with a love to match Anna’s for Stewart.
She corralled her impatience while each tiny satin-covered button down the back was worked into its buttonhole. Then they started on her hair. Forty hair-pin stabs later and they moved on to their next project. Cady brought out the latest trend from home, Max Factor Society Make-Up. Anna objected until she saw the finished result, her scar concealed so skillfully that she’d been granted a few special moments to forget the glaring mark. Not until the cloche-style, seed-pearl veil was in place did Momma Elliott and Cady both step back to survey the result of their efforts and announce their work to be complete.
They slipped out and left her to herself, promising to ask the organist to give Anna the space of two preliminary hymns, and their last chords would be her cue to enter the sanctuary. Anna breathed in the silence and thanked God, asking Him to bless her with a heart to serve Him and her husband. She called for God’s blessings on Stewart and the children they would have. Finally, hearing the second hymn hit its midpoint, she prayed for calm nerves as she walked down the aisle to her groom.
With one last peek in the mirror to marvel at Momma Elliott and Cady’s work, Anna picked up the bouquet of yellow allamandas and roses that Momma Elliott had prepared from her own garden. She ignored the slight quickening of her heart, took a deep breath and opened the door to go to her waiting groom.
And found a figure from her past standing firmly in the way of her future.
* * *
Stewart slid a finger under the collar of his shirt for relief from the afternoon heat. The bishop stood patiently at his side, Bible in hand. Guests from the local mission college were long since seated in the pews and the processional music had begun, but Anna hadn’t appeared. Momma Elliott and Miss Reynolds took turns glancing back at the sanctuary entrance.
The last time a woman decided not to marry him, she’d sent a messenger. For one black moment he wondered if he’d made it all the way to the church this time only to leave alone.
He thought back to their kiss, the look of love before their lips ever touched, and every doubt fled. He was left with only one other possibility. Something was terribly wrong.
He leaned in and whispered his concerns to Bishop Michaels before slipping out the vestry door. Anna’s father—if it was he who’d hired the kidnappers—was still unaccounted for by the constables. Stewart prayed along the way. Dear Lord, keep her safe. I can’t lose her, not now. If she is in danger, Lord, protect her and let me get there to save her one more time. Stewart picked up his rifle where he’d left it after admonitions not to carry the weapon into the ceremony. He wondered what the bishop would have said if he’d seen the knife concealed under Stewart’s frock coat.
When he reached the door to the vestibule that opened across from Anna’s dressing room, he forced himself to stop. If she was in trouble, a little reconnaissance was needed. And if she was simply late, he could turn around and save himself the embarrassment of having her know he’d panicked. In hindsight, he should have stood outside her door the entire time, fully armed, and escorted her down the aisle—then she’d be safe. He arrived at the door to the vestibule at the same time he arrived at an inescapable conclusion. He couldn’t keep her safe, not all the time. And a burden lifted as he turned the assignment over to God, trusting that He was the One who would always be with Anna.
He inched open the heavy wooden door and gained a clear view of the back of a man standing in front of Anna. Medium height, straw-brimmed hat and wearing a tropical white suit several cuts above the everyday cotton drill.
Who was she talking to? Invited guests remained in the sanctuary, and none of them owned clothes of such caliber. He opened the door farther. Lord, don’t let it squeak. He put aside his urge to go directly to her side and slid out into the vestibule. He stepped to where he could see Anna’s face. A malevolent male voice spoke to her in tones that raised the tiny hairs on the back of Stewart’s neck.
“Surprised, my dear? You shouldn’t be. I told you once before how I always get what I want. Did you think an ocean between us enough to dissuade me?”
Her father? So not at home dying, after all. He stood inches from Anna, but would he hurt her?
Anna spoke in incredulous tones. “Reginald, there is nothing you can do to change my mind. I am about to be married to someone else.”
Reginald? This wasn’t Anna’s father....
“You will marry no one but me, Annabelle. My wealth buys a lot in life. Your parents understood that when they brokered a deal for you.”
The fiancé Anna rejected. Reginald Hightower.
The man continued in a polite after-dinner parlor tone. “And so does the freighter captain waiting offshore to marry us.”
Time to show himself and get the deluded doctor away from Anna. She wasn’t going anywhere but down the aisle with Stewart.
Anna’s eyes widened when he came into her view. He put a finger to his lips and shook his head. No point in alerting the guy and complicating things.
Her pitch increased. “You can point that pistol at me all you want, Reginald. I won’t cooperate with you.”
Stewart froze. The man had a gun. He had to get that gun aimed away from Anna before the constables he asked Bishop Michaels to summon rushed in and got her killed. He mimed to Anna to move away. Stewart closed the distance between him and his target.
Anna kept Reginald distracted. “Why on earth would you want to marry a woman who doesn’t love you?”
Reginald’s veneer of politeness fell away. “I am the best society has to offer. I will have the most beautiful woman on my arm, a dutiful wife to show the world. Love is for fools. As my wife, Annabelle, you will be taught the respect due me and take your proper place by my side.” He stepped forward and grabbed her chin, twisting her head to one side. “What’s this? You’ve painted your face?”
When he released his hold, she said, “The makeup covers a new scar. I was attacked in the jungle by a member of the Leopard Society.”
Reginald moved his gun to his left hand, pulled out a handkerchief with his right and rubbed at the makeup. Motley red splotches appeared on the back of his neck after he succeeded. “Bad enough that your fool of a father first marred your cheek, but this...this...” He stepped back. “We will need to employ a skilled ladies’ maid to conceal the mark when we attend social functions. It won’t do to have people think the wife of one of the most esteemed surgeons in town paints her face like some common theater performer.”
Surgeon? If the man was a surgeon, the use of chloroform made sense. Reginald’s handkerchief fluttered to the ground. His confidence in his own success would be his undoing. He continued to hold the gun in his left hand. The man was lucky that the deadliest weapon available to Anna right now was her bouquet. If he’d seen her take on those Kru men he’d sent, he wouldn’t be so relaxed.
Now to put an end to this madman’s plans.
Stewart saw the look on Anna’s face as Reginald outlined his scheme. No, don’t challenge him. Stewart shook his head at Anna. She ignored him.
“You are deceived in many ways, Reginald, and I pray for your salvation.”
Recognizing the distraction she was creating, Stewart moved in behind Reginald.
Anna continued delivering chapter and verse to the madman. “Make no mistake—I will never be at your side, upholding some fictional appearance. I trust God to deliver me from your scheming, but even if He doesn’t, He is still the only One I will ever serve. Not you. Not ever.”
Reginald sputtered and his gun arm waved to the tune of his rage.
If Stewart could just catch that arm in the right position away from Anna...
“I thought your little show of holiness in your parents’ parlor would have crumbled after the reality of living with jungle heathens. I see I was wrong.” Reginald’s voice turned icy. “No matter. I am an adaptable man. It strikes me that I will make a wonderful example of a grieving widowed surgeon whose new wife was lost at sea. Come along, Anna.” He waved the gun to point toward the church entrance.
Stewart seized the moment, grabbed the hand with the gun and threw Reginald to the ground. Stewart wrenched the gun away and planted a knee in his captive’s back.
Anna said, “I’ll find something to bind...”
The front doors opened and six constables burst in, a worried Bishop Michaels behind them.
Reginald, shouting about who he was and how they had no right to put their hands on him, was soon dragged off to jail.
Anna laced her arm through Stewart’s. “I never realized his mind was so unsound.” She leaned her head on Stewart’s shoulder and looked up at him. “At least we can go forward now. No more kidnap attempts, no Leopard Men, nothing but what God has planned for our lives.”
Stewart pulled away just far enough to hold Anna at arm’s length and drink in the sight of her in that borrowed dress with all its satin and lace. “Reginald was wrong, you know.”
“About what?”
He cupped her scarred cheek in his hand. “You need no concealment. You are beautiful to me. The mark you bear will forever remind me of your courage and strength.”
He leaned down to share a kiss just as Momma Elliott came out from the sanctuary and gave them both a pointed look. “The bishop is ready again and waiting. I believe we still have a wedding to attend.” She turned and walked back.
Once the sanctuary door closed, Stewart pulled Anna into his arms, looked down at her and said, “You know, while I was coming for you, God showed me what you meant when you talked about the limits of my ability to protect those I love. I do trust Him, Anna. I’ll come running with my rifle when the situation warrants, but I know that God will never let you out of His sight. I believe that now.”
Anna beamed. “I’m so happy you see that truth.” She took his hand and pulled him toward the sanctuary. “Come on, we’ll walk down the aisle together.”
Stewart took Anna’s arm in his and they went to join the bishop at the altar. Strains of the processional music began when they were already partway to the altar. They took their places and the bishop began, “Dearly Beloved...”
Stewart fingered the surprise in his pocket that he had for Anna. After their vows, Bishop Michaels called for the rings. Stewart pulled out the garnet he’d been hand-polishing ever since Anna had agreed to marry him. Getting it set had been the tricky part, but it was worth every bit of trouble for the look of surprise and wonder in those big brown eyes as he slid it onto her delicate hand. Later he’d tell her why he’d chosen something from this wild, untamed land to be on her finger always. It was meant as a reminder to them both of where and how their love had truly become a match made in Heaven. Stewart could only marvel as he bent to claim a kiss from his new wife how he’d come to this country for one treasure and was leaving with the greatest treasures of all.