His cold, threatening eyes stared back at her from behind his steering wheel, sending an icy chill down her spine and into her toes. There was no mistaking it this time. She’d recognize that look anywhere.

  With every cell in her body on high alert, Elsbeth let out a panicked scream. She tore her eyes away from his icy stare and pinned it on the road instead. She pushed the vehicle faster along the road that led out of town, praying he hadn’t recognized her. Tears poured down her pale cheeks as she wrapped her bony hands around the steering wheel. This can’t be happening! Father, help me get away! She didn’t stop. Didn’t once take her foot off the pedal. And she didn’t dare look back.

  When her car finally approached the last bend before she’d have to turn down toward The Lighthouse, Elsbeth wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her hand and briefly scanned the rearview mirror. Behind her, the road lay stretched out with no cars in sight. She wiped her eyes again, this time turning in her seat to look back so she could be certain he hadn’t followed her.

  Relief washed over her as she realized she had somehow managed to get away. Perhaps he hadn’t recognized her, she didn’t know. But what she did know without a doubt is that God had kept his promise to never forsake her. He had helped her escape him once again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jim was raking leaves underneath the large oak when Elsbeth’s car screeched to a grinding halt in the distance. From where he stood he could see the dusty clouds of smoke kick up in the small parking area behind the first row of cabins. He leaned the rake up against the thick tree trunk and set off toward her. Since the fire incident and the recent stern warning from the fire chief to be extra cautious until the case was resolved, he had cast an extra watchful eye on their community.

  As he approached Elsbeth where she had already started heading up the garden path to her cabin he instantly noticed her frazzled demeanor. She had almost killed him by mistaking him for an intruder and he’d let her off the hook without a proper explanation, but everything in him shouted she was in some kind of serious trouble.

  “Elsbeth, what’s wrong?”

  She stormed past him, eager to lock herself in her cabin and never come out again.

  “Beth, stop! What’s going on? Why are you so upset?”

  Still she didn’t answer. Her eyes and cheeks were wet from a set of fresh tears and her skin pale and drawn. He rushed after her, shuffling his feet while lifting his shoulders up to his ears to help his aged body keep the pace. She didn’t let up, racing down the path as if chased by an unseen predator.

  When Jim finally caught up to her, she was fumbling with the key in her door, now crying uncontrollably. Standing behind her, he placed his large callused hands on her shoulders.

  “It’s okay, Beth. Whatever you’re running from, you’re safe now,” he tried to console her.

  “No, I’m not, Jim! He found me! I can’t believe he found me.”

  Elsbeth was a frightened, emotional mess when Jim took the key from her hand and unlocked the door. Once inside, she dashed from window to window, checking each one was properly shut before drawing the drapes.

  “What’s going on, Beth? Who are you hiding from?”

  She ignored him, dashing back to the front door to slip the bolt on the door.

  “Beth, stop! I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you’re so afraid of.”

  Jim was usually a patient man, but seeing one of his dearest friends fearing for her life drove him crazy.

  “He found me, Jim.”

  “Who?”

  “Kyle.”

  “And who’s that?”

  She paused, wiping the tears off her jaw, her face suddenly scarlet with shame. It was a part of her life she had gone to great lengths to keep buried for more than twenty years and she had never told a single soul at the mission, ever.

  “My husband,” she finally whispered, dropping her face into her palms.

  Jim fell silent then took a seat at the small dining table. He popped his seagrass fedora upside down on the table in front of him before wiping the fine beads of sweat on his forehead with a red paisley print handkerchief. Still paused near the front door, Elsbeth stood in silence, waiting for him to respond. But he just sat there staring at his hat on the table.

  “It happened a very long time ago, Jim. I was young and stupid.” She slowly moved across the floor and took a seat opposite him.

  “You’re married.”

  She nodded.

  “And you ran away from him.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “He hurt me.”

  “Hurt you how? An affair?”

  She shook her head, ashamed to voice it.

  “He abused you, physically.”

  She nodded, dropping her hands in her lap, subconsciously letting it brush over her tummy.

  “He’s here, Jim. He found me.” Elsbeth rose to her feet and moved toward the kettle in the kitchen.

  “How do you know? Did you see him?”

  “Yes, in town. And in the newspapers.”

  Her last statement piqued Jim’s interest.

  “What do you mean? He’s wanted by the police?”

  “I wish, but no. He’s well, famous of sorts.” She nervously poured hot water into two mugs as she waited for Jim to connect the dots.

  And it didn’t take him long to do so.

  “Oh, please tell me it’s not Kyle Rudd, the politician.”

  The look on her face confirmed it, and Jim shot to his feet and started pacing the small space.

  “Let me get this straight. You’re married to Senator Kyle Rudd who you ran away from over twenty years ago. Because he abused you. And you came here, to Turtle Cove to get away from him.”

  “I know, I know! It’s insane but it’s all true, Jim. He’s not the exemplary man everyone thinks he is.”

  Jim scooped his coffee cup from the counter and took his seat again at the table. After he took two big mouthfuls of coffee he sat back and looked her full in the eye.

  “If this man is dangerous you need to tell me everything, Beth.”

  She nodded, knowing there was no turning back now. She trusted Jim with her life and she was in over her head. The man she feared most in life was capable of anything to get what he wanted and she couldn’t risk the mission and the lives of everyone who had become her family. There was no telling what he would do to get to her. She wrapped her hands around her coffee mug as she sat down at the table, drawing a deep breath before she spoke again.

  “I met him during a small peaceful protest in our local town when I was just twenty-four. He was in his final year studying law and before I knew it we were married the instant he graduated. The first few years were great. He worked at a small law firm in Maryland. Life was good. We dreamed of having a family and tried for three years to fall pregnant, but never did. During that time he was introduced into politics but the constituents demanded he resembled the family man he portrayed in his campaigns. And since we didn’t have children he blamed me for tarnishing his image, accusing me of sabotaging his career. That’s when everything changed, almost overnight. He started working late, went away on business trips, spent more and more time at the office. I kept trying to get pregnant but nothing worked. Then one day I suggested he got himself checked out since the doctors had already told me there was no reason for me not to fall pregnant. He lost it. That was the first time he hit me, right across the face. A week later it happened again, and again. I couldn’t stop him. To the world, we looked like the perfect couple, but behind closed doors, he was a monster who blamed me for everything that went wrong in his life. I stuck it out for years, covering my bruises with make-up, hiding behind sunglasses. I kept thinking it would all change when I fell pregnant or he got elected, whichever came first. I forgave him, over and over. Until the day he shattered my arm in three places. I had to lie to the doctor, said I slipped and fell on a freshly mopped floor. A week later I found out I was pregnant. That was the day I decided to leave him. There was no way I’d let him hurt my child. So I waited until he left for another business trip, took whatever cash I had managed to skim off the grocery budget, and got on the next bus out of town. I had planned to go to Florida to stay with my mother, but she suddenly fell ill and soon after passed. I had nowhere to go, no money, and was almost ten weeks pregnant. I had no choice but to go back and tell him about the baby in the hopes it would change him.”

  Elsbeth paused, wiping a lonely tear that had slipped down onto her cheek before she continued.

  “When I got home he was waiting for me. He’d been drinking. I had never seen him angrier. He was livid that I tried to leave him. I lied and told him I was just visiting with my mother, but he didn’t believe me. I never even got a chance to tell him about the baby. He lost all control. I couldn’t stop him. He threw me against the wall and kicked me until I finally passed out. When I woke up the next morning he had left on another trip. Two days later I lost the baby, right there in the bathroom. So I buried my unborn child in the garden near the lavender bush and left. This time I colored my hair and changed my name. Somehow I found my way here and never left.”

  Jim sat in shocked silence as she finished telling him her story. His heart ached for her. Suddenly he knew exactly how Elsbeth Porter had become the strong woman of faith they had all come to depend on. She had been molded, hammered out by life’s cruel hands, and brought to Turtle Cove to be restored by her Savior’s grace.

  He leaned across the table and took hold of both her hands.

  “No woman should ever go through what you did. You were incredibly brave to leave him.”

  “I don’t think I was brave. I was a coward. I should have told him I was pregnant. Maybe then the baby would have had a chance at life.”

  “Is that what you think? You’re harboring guilt over something you had no control over. A man who disrespected you.”

  “I killed my baby, Jim. If I had told him before I left the first time, things could have been different. He would have had the child he so desperately needed to save his career. It was all my fault.”

  “Beth, the man is a monster. He kicked you to a pulp, not you. Even if you had told him you were pregnant, there’s no way of knowing what he would have done to both of you. You did the right thing to protect your unborn child and yourself. You got away.”

  Elsbeth moved to clean the empty coffee mugs in the kitchen sink. She acknowledged what Jim said made all the sense in the world; yet, she didn’t believe any of it. If she hadn’t tried to leave him, hadn’t angered him, her baby would have never died. She had vowed to protect her baby at all costs, and she had failed miserably. The one opportunity she had to be the mother she always wanted to be, she had recklessly thrown away.

  Her mind trailed to Adam and how she had taken him in as if he were her own child. She loved him with a mother’s heart and was grateful to have had at least that. He was her gracious gift from God.

  “Adam! Where’s Adam?” She suddenly spun around, startling Jim with her panicked question.

  “Kyle is here, in Turtle Cove, Jim, and I am positive he was here on my porch that night. What if he somehow found out about the baby and now wants to take his revenge on me by hurting Adam? He is capable of anything, Jim. I won’t let him hurt Adam. I won’t let him take him away from me too!”

  Jim was next to her, then held her tight.

  “For as long as I have breath in my body, Beth, that man will not come near you or hurt anyone here at the mission or in Turtle Cove. Least of all Adam.”

  But Elsbeth wasn’t so sure. No one knew Kyle the way she did. She had learned that what lay behind his charming veneer, was a dark soul that would stop at nothing to inflict his selfish will. Kyle Rudd was an evil man scorned who would kill her if he had half a chance.

  And as quickly as fear penetrated her armor, the words recorded by the psalmist rang in her head.

  A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at

  Your right hand, but it will not come near you.

  A faint smile lifted at the corners of her thin lips. What Kyle didn’t know was that Victoria Rudd was already dead. He had killed her a long time ago. Elsbeth Porter was stronger, a new creation firmly planted in Christ, and she would rise up against evil with the strength of the God who saved her.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Adam crossed the state lines into Florida he couldn’t help feeling anxious. In all the years on the island, he had never wanted to learn about his parents. He never asked. He had told himself that it wasn’t necessary. It wouldn’t change the fact that they were dead. Elsbeth, Daniel, and the rest of the community at the mission had taken him in and they had made him feel loved and safe. That seemed good enough for him. And, as time went on, he remembered less and less of his parents until he no longer remembered them at all. Except for his mother’s eyes.

  But now he wasn’t sure about anything. Perhaps he had intentionally blocked them and the accident from his memory. Moved on. Because knowing, remembering, hurt too much. He had no idea, but what he did know, was what he saw that day in the creek. It wasn’t a dream. He believed that with all his heart. And something deep inside his spirit told him to follow his heart. Where his search would lead him, he didn’t quite know. But he had asked the Lord to guide him and trusted that he would.

  He took another bite of the chicken sandwich Elsbeth had packed for him and wiped the mayonnaise that had dribbled down his chin. He’d wanted to fly to Tampa, but Elsbeth and Jim had insisted he drove. Both had felt a solitary road trip and getting away from the island for a bit would do him good. It had piqued his curiosity but, since they were both in agreement, and adamant at that, he didn’t argue. For all he knew it was the very guidance he had prayed for.

  He recalled the telephone conversation he’d had with his uncle the day before. He had intended to discuss the accident over the phone, but something in his uncle’s voice had changed. His tone was almost guarded. As if he knew something no one else did and didn’t know if he should say. It frustrated Adam. What was his uncle hiding and why? He was his only remaining blood relative as far as he knew, and the one thought that persisted in the back of his mind was why his uncle didn’t take him in.

  * * *

  The remaining three hours went by quickly. Consumed mostly by the lingering thoughts and questions that swirled in his head. By the time he pulled into his uncle’s driveway, he was feeling tense and irritated. The front door flew open the moment he turned off the car’s engine and a second later his uncle’s large frame stood in the doorway. Adam studied his face as he shut the car’s door behind him and walked around the car toward him, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder. His uncle looked worn out, almost sad, but hidden beneath the obvious, was clear evidence of nervous tension.

  “Hey, Uncle Ben,” Adam greeted.

  “It’s good to see you, Adam.”

  Ben took his nephew’s bag and ushered him inside. Adam could tell he felt uncomfortable. Truth be told, so did he. Ben showed him to one of the bedrooms and set his bag down on the bed.

  “It’s not much but hopefully it will do,” he excused.

  The room was tiny and modestly decorated with chocolate brown curtains and a matching bedspread thrown untidily over a single bed that stood squashed in one corner. Against the room’s stark turquoise walls it somewhat overwhelmed Adam’s senses but he didn’t say anything.

  “It’s perfect, thank you, Uncle Ben.”

  “I have a pitcher of sweet tea ready in the sitting room. You must be thirsty from the long drive.”

  He led the way to the open-plan sitting room where Adam sat down on the two-seater sofa. The large pink flowers against the dark military green backdrop with matching fringe yelled 1970s. Yet it looked as good as new. Opposite him, Ben dropped down into the matching green armchair and pushed the footrest out from underneath. Next to him, a newspaper lay folded to the sports page on a small antique side table. Adam allowed his eyes to take in the small house. It was dated but pristine.

  “It doesn’t look like much, I know. With your aunt in the care home I haven’t really bothered with it to be honest. No one ever visits and it’s not like she remembers anything after she spends a weekend here. As far as she knows it’s still 1974. The doctor said he suspects that’s when something triggered the dementia. He says keeping it this way might help jar her memory, but it hasn’t really.”

  He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat then folded his large hands over his round belly. His uncle was never one to mince his words and it didn’t take him long to push past the pleasantries and tackle the reason Adam had come.

  “I always knew this day would come, you know. But I’ll be honest. I kind of hoped it wouldn’t,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What for? You have every right to be asking about your parents. It’s something I should have discussed with you a long time ago.”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  “Not sure. I figured you’d come to me when the time was right.”

  He pushed his chin out toward a navy blue with gold trim photo album that lay on the coffee table between them.

  “There isn’t a lot in there, but it’s all I have. Your parents weren’t much for taking photos. I never could get either of them to agree to be in any pictures. Your mother wasn’t always like that though. It only became a thing once she married your father. Then suddenly she didn’t like anyone taking any pictures of them, and especially of you after you were born.”

  Adam sat forward and flipped the album open. A large portrait of his mother greeted him, her piercing blue eyes staring back at him. She was sitting in a field, chewing on a piece of grass, her hair beautifully done up, her smile big and wide. She looked happy.

  “How old was she here?” Adam asked.

  “Fresh out of college, if I recall. She wanted to be a teacher.”