Mysterious Vows

Perhaps she had agreed to this marriage for all the right reasons. Though she could not remember their relationship, it would be truly wonderful if such reasons existed. If there were love between them... She would try, with all her will, to recall.

Another guest stood in front of them.

“Maria, this is Edward Elliot. He’s a senator in the Maine state legislature.”

Edward clasped her hand firmly. “Delighted to meet you. Jason is a lucky man to have found a beauty like you, Maria.”

Jason translated into Spanish, and she murmured, “Gracias.”

“No English?” he questioned.

“A little,” she said. This well-dressed, blustery, red-faced man seemed excessively interested in her. Most of Jason’s guests were content to shake her hand, wish her well and move into the dining area where the buffet was set, but Edward still held Maria’s hand in a tight, sweaty grip.

“I think you know more than a little English,” he guessed. “When you spoke your wedding vows, you had almost no trace of an accent.”

Jason had turned to another guest, and so did not translate.

Though Maria understood every word Edward had spoken, she did not acknowledge the truth in his statement. She sensed danger. It was better not to reveal too much, to hide behind the shield of Spanish. “No comprendo. Sorry.”

He leaned close, speaking for her ears only. “You’ll never get away with this.”

What had he said?

“I can help you. If Jason tries to—”

Another guest jostled them. “Move along, Eddy.”

Edward reached inside his jacket pocket, and his manner became falsely jocular. “If old Jason gives you a hard time, Maria, here’s where to reach me.” He passed her a business card. “If you need anything, anything at all—”

“What are you saying?” Jason interrupted.

“Inviting your bride into town. Or up to the capital in Augusta. It isn’t all that far away, and she might want to see the sights.”

“Maria doesn’t know how to drive,” Jason informed him.

A protest rose to her lips. Of course she knew how to drive! She’d been driving since she was sixteen.

In a flash, a vivid mental image came into her mind. It was more of an impression, a soundless photograph. She saw a forest green Volvo station wagon parked in the dusk. There were trees. She knew the street, the neighborhood, but she could not put a name to it. Two men sat in the car, watching and waiting. Her heartbeat quickened and fear took root in her mind, throbbing as steadily as her returning headache.

“If Maria wants to go anywhere,” Jason said, “I’ll take her.”

“Not if she’s going to be a true American woman,” Edward responded huffily.

Huffing and puffing, she thought. He was like an ill wind that blew no one any good.

He continued. “The first thing she’ll want is independence. Right, Maria?”

She forced herself to look directly at this man, tried to understand what he meant when he said Jason might give her a hard time. Would Jason hurt her? Despite the celebratory buffet and the chattering guests and her pristine white bridal gown, there seemed to be dark, discordant threats all around her. She didn’t know who to trust. This senator? Or Jason?

Alice had returned to stand beside Maria. In her clumsy Spanish, she indicated that it was time to cut the cake. She held up the silver knife and pointed to it, trying to explain, using sign language. Sunlight from tall windows glinted on the dull blade, and Maria recoiled slightly. There had been a knife. One of the men held a knife.

Maria’s breath caught in her throat. She needed to run, to escape from this island before it was too late.

“Smile!” came a command from a short, wiry man with a Nikon aimed and ready to shoot. “Come on, Jason. Stand a little closer to the lady.”

“No photos,” Jason said firmly.

“But this is for the Gazette.” He lowered the camera and nervously raked his fingers through his long, graying hair, tightening his ponytail. “You’re front-page news, Jason. It’s not every day that the most eligible bachelor in the county gets hitched. Now, say cheese.”

Despite his crippled leg, Jason stepped quickly toward him, snatched his camera from his hands and whipped the embroidered strap up and off his neck.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“First, I’d like for you to meet my bride. Even journalists can be civilized.” He forcibly propelled the small man toward her. “Maria, this is Chip Harrington. He is the chief reporter-photographer-editor for the local newspaper.”

“Delighted,” he said, quickly shaking her hand and turning back to Jason. “Now, can I shoot you?”

“It’s like this,” Jason explained in a low voice. “Maria is very tired after her long trip, and she’d rather not pose for pictures right now. She doesn’t feel like she’s looking her best.”

“Man, if this isn’t her best, I’d like to see—”

“Thanks, Chip, for being so sensitive to her concerns.” Jason waved to his sister and gave her the camera. “Make sure Chip gets this back when he leaves.”

“I’ll let you get away with this on one condition,” Chip said. “If I can’t have a picture, I want an interview with Maria. One on one.”

“But she only speaks Spanish,” Alice observed.

“No problemo.” When Chip grinned, his face became a road map of deep creases that radiated from his mouth to around his eyes, crisscrossing on his high forehead. “Sometimes you people forget that I haven’t always lived here in Maine. I covered a world beat, including El Salvador.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Jason said. Chip’s elfish appearance masked a sharp intellect. He was, by trade, a gatherer of intelligence in this country and in Central America. In addition to his weekly newspaper, he regularly contributed to several national publications.

“With your permission, Maria.” Chip spoke in flawless Spanish. “We will talk for five minutes.”

Jason disliked the idea. He felt possessive about his bride. She wasn’t well, and he didn’t want her to face someone as sly as Chip Harrington until she was ready. “I’ll come with you.”

“Give me a break,” Chip said. “She can’t tell the secret of how she landed a prize catch while you’re standing there. Don’t worry, man. I’m not going to quiz her on the prenuptial agreement or anything. This is strictly a fluff piece. Maria? How about it?”

“I will be happy to speak with you. Though I have little to say.” She separated from Jason and went toward Chip. A newspaperman, she reasoned, ought to be able to give her information about the island and about Jason. She needed to know more about her new husband.

Chip Harrington was approximately her own height, and his easy grin made her feel safe. She gestured toward a love seat beside the fireplace, and they sat. Before he could begin his interview, she asked a question of her own. “This island,” she said. “It is so beautiful. Has Jason lived here long?”

“All his life. The Walker family is descended from whaling captains. But I don’t want to talk about history. Tell me about yourself.”

“I am what you see,” she said in a manner that she hoped was disarming. “Is Jason involved in a seafaring trade?”

“No way. He was almost a doctor. From what I hear, he had only a residency to complete his training. But you know that, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, certainly.” Even with Chip, she needed to be careful not to betray the truth...if she could ever remember what the truth was. “I am so very tired. I forgot.”