Abandoned Memories by MaryLu Tyndall

thought away. It was such wayward thinking that had caused his many falls from grace. Angeline was a lady of the highest morals who didn’t deserve to be ogled or thought of with impurity. Despite the fact that she looked so incredibly beautiful and vulnerable at the moment. A sheen of perspiration made her skin glow and transformed curls framing her face into dangling rubies. The rest of her russet hair tumbled in waves over her shoulders, down her back and into her lap, where Stowy played with a strand clutched between his paws. James swallowed.
    Thankfully, the screech of a macaw sounded, followed by the chorus of birds returning to their song, jarring his thoughts. What was wrong with him? They’d almost been smothered by ants, their crops were ruined, and all he could think about was how being close to Angeline made him feel so alive.
    She peered through the canopy, her gaze scanning the ground below, where the swarm of ants had thinned considerably. “How long before it’s safe to return to New Hope?”
    Eyes the color of the violets his mother used to grow in their garden in Knoxville searched his. Only, the violet in Angeline’s eyes was more like a bottomless pool of swirling emotions. Emotions he longed to explore, along with those lips of hers she so often bit when she was nervous. He looked away. “We should wait until there’s not an ant in sight. I don’t want to risk getting trapped.”
    Nodding, she leaned back against the trunk and folded up the sleeves of her blouse against the sultry heat. A flicker of sunlight brushed over a pink scar on her forearm. He’d seen scars like that before. Many of them. All caused by knives embedded in flesh. But why would such a lovely lady like Angeline have been the victim of such violence? His gaze shifted to the ring she wore on a chain around her neck. Normally she kept it tucked within her bodice, but perhaps it had loosened during their mad dash through the jungle. Since it appeared to be a man’s ring, he’d always wondered about it but had been afraid to pry.
    Now seemed like the perfect time.
    “That ring you always wear around your neck, it must be important to you.”
    Her lips flattened. “I realize, Doctor, that we find ourselves inappropriately alone, but that does not grant you entrance into my personal life.” Her strident tone surprised him. Though he didn’t know why. The woman could switch moods faster than a chameleon could colors. Flinching at the sting in his heart, he held up his palms. “Douse those flames, your dragonship; I was just asking.”
    “Dragonship?” A sparkle lit her eyes, softening the hard sheen of only a moment before. “Sweet saints, where did that come from?” She laughed.
    “Sorry. Old habit.” James shrugged, thrilled to see her anger flee. “I used to read stories about dragons when I was a little boy. They fascinated me.” He shrugged. “Were dragons good? Evil? How did they make the fire that came out of their snouts?” He winked.
    “So am I to be compared to a dragon now?” She laughed as the tension dissipated between them. “You are a strange man, indeed. A doctor, or rather preacher, who is fascinated by creatures that don’t exist.”
    Her gaze snapped to his, and he knew she also referred to the invisible beasts he claimed were tormenting the colonists.
    A bird landed on a branch and eyed them curiously before beginning a serenade in a variety of tones and notes and pitches that would shame a symphony orchestra.
    Despite the joyful tune, she grew quiet. After several minutes, she lifted the ring and fingered it like it was the answer to all her prayers. “It was my father’s. He gave it to me on his deathbed.”
    Sunlight cut a swath through the canopy and swayed over the ruby in the center, setting it aflame.
    “It’s beautiful,” James said.
    “Yes.” She stared at it as if lost in another time.
    “When did he die?”
    “I was only seventeen.”
    “And your mother?”
    “At my