Chapter 12

19 0 0
                                    

August 1845


Robert Mayhew looked up at the treehouse that for a year now had provided shelter to the women stranded on this island that by happenstance or pure luck he had been able to find. He assumed they had not constructed it themselves but whoever had obviously known a thing or two about building. Otherwise, it would not have survived the harsh elements associated with island life including the prevalent storms, diverse wildlife, and extreme heat.

From his viewpoint he suspected the wood used had been scrapped from a ship. Using the tree as its foundation it was built outward and around creating four walls and a tented roof of tin no doubt taken from the Grover Two Times River, its name identified by a post in the ground, which he and Alix had found on one of their many forays into the rainforest. The river appeared to be around seven miles long, finally feeding into the ocean. The bank was surrounded by tall leafy trees and various flowers, shrubs, and plants.

Though Robert had yet to go inside, he was slowly gaining Eugenia's trust. He knew she was still afraid of what would happen when they returned to Texas. And they had to go back, remaining on the island wasn't an option. As much as Eugenia would like to believe she was content to spend the rest of her life eating fruit and fish and basking in the warm Caribbean sun he knew at some point she would want to leave, only there was no guarantee she would ever get another opportunity at rescue.

The friend Paulette seemed eager to leave if confused by her blossoming relationship with Alix. Robert himself had been surprised by the instant attraction between the two. Alix had never shared or alluded to any relationships past or present to Robert. His interest in Paulette was a welcome sight. It brought out a more carefree aspect of his personality, before arriving on the island Alix had hardly ever played the fiddle and now it was a daily occurrence. As for her sister, she was happier than ever now talking practically nonstop and reveling in the attention Lucas gave her.

Robert had not slept well the night before knowing the news he had to deliver in the morning. He knew Eugenia was not going to be pleased to learn the Princess Augusta was once again seaworthy. Robert imagined any number of responses from Eugenia: shock, anger, sadness. Despite the trials the women had experienced Robert knew it had bonded them and though life would be easier back in America they would nonetheless miss their, at times idealistic existence here.

However, there was no point in putting it off any longer. The sun had already been up an hour, the heat slowly enveloping around them as once again a humid sticky day descended.

"Miss Eugenia, might I have a word?" Robert called up the ladder.

Sandrine poked her head in the opening.

"Good morning, Robert!" she chirped blond hair falling over her shoulder.

"Good morning, Sandrine. I need to speak with your sister."

"Sandrine, I haven't finished brushing your hair, get back here!" Robert heard Eugenia call from inside the treehouse.

"But the captain is here." Sandrine relayed as if that was an excuse to stop the hair brushing.

"Is it regarding an urgent matter?" Eugenia inquired haughtily.

"Is this urgent?" Sandrine called down.

"No." Robert replied despondently. Though he was grateful the women were able to speak English much more effectively then when they had first arrived and always did so in his presence.

Recluse IslandWhere stories live. Discover now