The Orphan's Dream (30 page)

The news that they might have found a guide to take them to the Fakahatchee swamp acted on Hubert like a miracle cure. He spent hours closeted with Bill Bundy making plans for their venture into the wilderness. Mirabel was excited but also nervous, and Gertie was simply terrified. Bodger remained unmoved but to Mirabel's surprise Jack took an active interest in their expedition. She was even more astonished when he turned up on the morning of their departure and announced that he intended to accompany them. ‘Why?' she demanded incredulously. ‘Have you an interest in finding rare orchids?'

‘No, not at all, but I don't think you understand the risks you're taking or the dangers you'll face. You could stay here in safety with Mama Lou.'

‘I could,' she said evenly. ‘But I don't choose to.'

‘Then you need someone to look after you.' He held up his hand, a smile creeping into his eyes. ‘There's no need to defend your husband, but he's neither young nor fit, and Bundy is a law unto himself. He's as likely to wander off after some wild species that will make him money as to honour his agreement with your husband.'

‘I trust Hubert's judgement,' Mirabel said, avoiding Jack's intense gaze. He had a way of looking at her that was disturbing and exciting. She did not want to admit it, even to herself, but it would be a huge relief to have him with them on their expedition.

‘Anyway,' he said casually. ‘I have little else to do. It will be a new experience.'

Bundy arrived with a rifle slung over his shoulder, a machete tucked into his leather belt and a sheathed bowie knife hanging from his waist. Hubert stared at him in a mixture of surprise and amusement. ‘My dear fellow, you look like a frontiersman. Is all that weaponry really necessary?'

Bundy grinned. ‘You'll find out soon enough, boss. When you're face to face with a 'gator you don't stop to ask him the time of day. Same goes for a black bear. Cussed critters, you don't want to get on the wrong side of one of them. And don't forget the panthers and the wild hogs.'

‘It sounds very dangerous,' Mirabel said, frowning.

‘It's fine if you know what you're doing.' Bundy jerked his head in the direction of the men who had accompanied him. ‘They're from the Bahamas, like Mama Lou. They're strong fellows, used to working hard constructing the hotel, but the building is all but complete. They didn't take much persuading to earn a bit of extra money to take home when the time comes for them to leave. You'll be safe with us, ma'am.'

Mirabel was not entirely convinced but she did her best to reassure Gertie, who had been given the option of staying with Mama Lou, but had insisted on accompanying them albeit with the air of a martyr faced with burning at the stake. Bodger on the other hand was eager and willing, promising to carry Hubert on his back if that was what it would take to grant him his dearest wish to see the ghost orchid in bloom.

‘Why couldn't we use mules to carry our equipment?' Mirabel asked Jack as he fell into step beside her. They had been walking for several hours with minimal stops to take sips of water from leather flasks, but already Mirabel could feel blisters on her heels and thirst seemed to be a constant companion. The sun beat down relentlessly on the treeless prairie, where the baked-brown grass stretched like an endless sea of crushed velvet. She stopped to mop her brow, but her whole body was moist with sweat, and her bodice was stained with damp patches. ‘Why can't we ride? The land is flat and hard. I thought there would be swamps and jungle.'

Jack threw back his head and laughed. ‘Wait a while and you'll find yourself knee deep in water and duckweed. I've listened to Bundy's tales of his excursions into the swamp and this will seem like paradise in comparison.' He took off his necktie and handed it to her. ‘I don't possess anything as gentlemanly as a handkerchief. Try this, it's reasonably clean.'

She took off her pith helmet and used the cloth to wipe away the trickles of perspiration that ran like tears down her cheeks. The material smelled of him, bringing back memories of their brief time together in London. It was a scent that had stayed in her memory long after he had gone. She handed it back, resisting the temptation to tuck it into her pocket. ‘Thank you, but you haven't answered my question. Why didn't we use mules? I saw plenty of them back at the settlement.'

‘Mules need water and plenty of it in this heat.' He shielded his eyes against the sunlight, staring at the vast expanse of openness. ‘The black bears and panthers would be attracted by their smell, and even if we reached the swamp without mishap mules would flounder in the mud and be fair game for alligators and cottonmouth snakes.'

‘Snakes?' Gertie had taken the opportunity to stop, and she stared at him open-mouthed.

‘Watch out for rattlers,' he said, grinning. ‘The diamondback is deadly if you disturb it, but at least it gives a warning.'

Gertie uttered a shriek of horror, covering her face with her hands.

‘Stop it, Jack.' Mirabel stifled a giggle. ‘You're scaring her.'

‘Just look where you're going, Gertie,' Jack said cheerfully. ‘You'll be fine. The snakes are more scared of you than you are of them.' He strolled off to join Bodger and Bill Bundy who had come to a halt just ahead of them.

‘I want to go home to England,' Gertie sobbed. ‘I hate this place, Mabel.'

Mirabel patted her on the shoulder. ‘If you cry then I will too, and they'll think that we're weak women. Chin up and we'll show them that we're just as tough as they are.'

‘I am a weak woman,' Gertie whispered. ‘I'm scared.'

‘So am I, but I'll die before I let them see it.'

Gertie wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She slanted a sideways look at Mirabel. ‘You won't get the better of Captain Jack, but be careful, Mabel.'

‘I don't know what you mean,' Mirabel said, turning away.

‘You like him and he likes you.'

‘We get along tolerably well, I suppose.'

‘The girls back at Zilla's told me that she and he was together for a long time, if you know what I mean.'

Mirabel had forgotten, or perhaps she had deliberately put it out of her mind, but she knew very well that Jack and Zilla had been lovers. ‘That's his business,' she said with a careless shrug. ‘It has nothing to do with me. Come along now, you can do this, Gertie. Best foot forward.'

‘I just don't want you to get hurt,' Gertie said softly.

‘You needn't worry about me,' Mirabel said with an attempt to sound casual. ‘I have Jack Starke's measure.'

Arm in arm they walked on.

After another couple of hours, just when Mirabel was beginning to feel she could not go another step, and Gertie was so exhausted that she had stopped grumbling, they saw what appeared to be a forest of giant cypress trees and palms that had burst forth from the flat prairie in an eruption of tall trunks supporting a canopy of green leaves and palm fronds. The thought of shade and coolness was exhilarating and without any need to be told they picked up their pace.

Bundy stopped, surveying the area with a critical eye. ‘We'll stop here for the night.'

An audible sigh of relief was followed by a flurry of activity as the porters dropped their loads and began to unpack and set up camp. Hubert looked exhausted but his dogged cheerfulness was undimmed, and he was deep in conversation with Bundy, leaving Mirabel with nothing to do other than wait for their meal to be prepared. Gertie had flopped down on the ground, looking round nervously as if expecting to be attacked by wildlife from every quarter. Bodger was making himself useful building a fire with brushwood and dried grass and Jack was frowning over the crudely drawn map that Bundy had been using as a guide.

Mirabel felt oddly detached from everything that was going on around her. She was hot and tired and the stand of trees loomed dark and mysterious; its cool depths seemed like an oasis in the middle of the parched prairie. Although close to exhaustion, she felt drawn there as if an unseen hand was beckoning to her. No one seemed to notice as she walked slowly, hypnotised by the siren song of exotic birds as she entered a strange and alien world. She was looking up into the branches of a great cypress, not paying attention to where she put her feet, when she trod on something that moved. A creature slithered from beneath a ragged bush and she froze. The telltale rattle made the blood run cold in her veins and a scream of sheer terror escaped her lips.

‘
DON'T MOVE. STAND
very still.'

Her first instinct was to turn and run to Jack, but she dared not take her eyes off the snake as it reared up in front of her. Her limbs felt like lead and her heart was thudding wildly against her ribcage, making it difficult to breathe. The rattlesnake drew back its head as if to strike and she closed her eyes. This was how she was going to die. She steeled herself for the pain when the fangs pierced her skin, but the sudden crack of a rifle fired from close range reverberated off the tree trunks, sending birds flapping into the leafy canopy. She opened her eyes and saw the severed head of the snake lying on the dried palm fronds beneath the trees. The body twitched eerily and then was still.

‘What the hell d'you think you were doing?' Jack demanded angrily, breaking the rifle and discarding it to take her by the shoulders. He shook her and then held her to him in a crushing embrace. ‘A bite from that snake would have killed you within hours, and it would have been a slow and painful death.'

Speechless and trembling she could feel his heart pounding against hers through the thin cotton of his shirt. The warmth of his body enveloped her in a haven of safety and the scent of him, so familiar now, was charged with particles of fear. He released her suddenly, turning away. ‘Go back to your husband, Mrs Kettle, and don't wander off again.' He picked up his rifle and stood very still, staring straight ahead, waiting until she gathered enough strength to walk away.

She was met by Gertie and Bodger with Hubert close behind. Gertie flung her arms around her. ‘What happened? We heard the shot. Are you hurt?'

‘No. I'm all right, really.'

‘What were you doing wandering off on your own?' Hubert demanded breathlessly. ‘You should know better than that, Mirabel.'

She hung her head, feeling like a child being scolded for disobeying a strict parent. ‘I – I'm sorry, Hubert. I just wanted to be in the shade.'

‘You're all right now, missis,' Bodger said, proffering his arm to her. ‘No harm done, guv.'

Jack strolled out of the trees, his gun crooked over his arm. ‘It was a rattler,' he said casually. ‘It's dead.' He walked off towards the camp.

That night the fire was kept going and Jack took the first watch while the others slept. Mirabel was still shaken by her narrow escape and angry with herself for stepping so carelessly into danger. She should have known better, as Hubert had told her repeatedly while they waited for their supper to be cooked over the smoky campfire, and again afterwards as they settled down for the night, making themselves as comfortable as was possible when sleeping on the sun-baked ground.

The sound of gentle breathing was interspersed by loud snores, but Mirabel could not sleep. She could see Jack silhouetted against the flames as he sat cross-legged with Bundy's rifle at the ready. He had not spoken a word to her since the incident with the rattlesnake, which had been retrieved by one of their Bahamian porters, skinned and cooked. Bundy and his men had eaten the flesh with relish but no one else had the stomach for it, not even Jack. Mirabel had managed to eat some of Mama Lou's stale johnnycake, but she had little appetite. She stared at Jack's profile, willing him to turn his head, and even though he refused to obey her mute command she sensed that he was as aware of her as she of him. She closed her eyes in a futile attempt to shut him out of her mind. She could still feel the pressure of his arms around her and the warmth of his body as he held her close. It was a moment that would live with her forever, but it was a moment that must never be repeated. She was a married woman and her loyalty must be to Hubert. She turned her head so that when she opened her eyes she would see her sleeping husband just yards away, but when she awakened at first light it was Jack she saw. He was kneeling by the fire, stoking it with brushwood, and he looked up as if he had heard her call out to him. For a few heart-aching seconds their eyes met and then he turned away. This, she thought miserably, was how it must be from now until their mission was over. Their proximity promised to be both heaven and hell.

 

According to Bundy's calculations it was over eighty miles to their destination and on the first day they had travelled less than twenty. The next day they made slightly better time and to Mirabel's surprise Hubert appeared to be growing stronger, or perhaps it was simply his determination to reach his goal that kept him going. The days seemed to merge into each other in a cloud of dust and searing heat that left them parched no matter how much they drank. Mirabel suffered from aching muscles and painful blisters which burst and became open sores, but the physical pain was nothing compared to her emotional turmoil. It was agonising to be close to Jack and yet miles apart. She barely spoke to him and as if by mutual consent he said little to her. No one, least of all Hubert, seemed to notice that an atmosphere existed between them, and Gertie was too wrapped up in her own misery to worry about anyone else. She complained endlessly of aches in every part of her body from her head to her toes.

Life on the march was far from easy and their supply of fresh food had run out after the second day. They existed on a diet of boiled rice and beans, which even with the addition of spices was monotonous in the extreme. Water was also in short supply and personal cleanliness was impossible to maintain.

On the fifth day the landscape began to change and clusters of trees were interspersed with sinkholes linked by channels of clear water. They camped that night on the banks of a lake at the edge of what Bundy proudly announced was the Fakahatchee swamp. ‘We're almost there,' he said with his mouth full of omelette made from blue heron eggs that one of their porters had risked life and limb to collect. To everyone's amazement he had shinned up a tree and taken them from the nest, but the hot meal was a welcome change and there was ample water for both drinking and washing, although Bundy warned them to be ever watchful for the deadly cottonmouth snakes, snapping turtles and alligators. ‘Tomorrow we will head into the depths of the swamp, although maybe the ladies might want to remain in camp.' He sent a meaningful look at Mirabel's divided skirt, which had seemed eminently suitable when she tried it on in London. ‘We will be wading through water for much of the time.'