Her gaze fell upon Captain Harris. He was sitting up against the pillows. “Good afternoon,” she said.
“This is Emma.” Abigail punched and fluffed the pillows behind him. “She’s the superintendent’s daughter, and she’s brought you some books.”
Emma met the captain’s gaze. With a furrowed brow, he studied her for a moment, as if he were struggling to recognize a familiar face. “We’ve met,” he finally said, appearing almost relieved as he spoke the words.
“I’m pleased to see you’re feeling better,” Emma replied.
“Not by much.”
An awkward silence ensued. Emma remained in the doorway while Abigail tucked the blanket tightly around the captain’s feet.
Eventually, he glanced down at the sack of books Emma had carried from home. “What did you bring?”
Taking the question as an invitation, she crossed the threshold and approached the chair beside the bed. She set the white canvas sack on the seat and reached in to withdraw one book at a time. “I wasn’t sure what you might like, so I brought a broad selection. This is one of my favorites.” She handed him a dog-eared copy ofThe Toilers of the Sea, by Victor Hugo.
He took hold of it and frowned at the title. “I read this when I was young. Now, under the circumstances, I wish I hadn’t.” He dropped it onto the mattress beside him. “What else have you got?”
Aware of Abigail observing from the doorway, Emma reached into the bag again. “This is about the biology and behavior of wild horses. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but we have wild herds here. You might see them when you’re up and about, when you feel ready to go for a walk.”
“If the weather ever clears,” Abigail said sourly.
“The sun will come out again. It always does.” Emma reached into the bag for more books and presented each one to the captain, giving him time to peruse a cover or a table of contents.
When the bag was empty, she folded it and placed it on the lower shelf of the bedside table.
No one spoke, and Emma glanced uneasily at Abigail, who was still standing in the doorway, watching with eyes like a malevolent cat’s.
Emma wasn’t normally a judgmental person, but there was no question that Abigail was bitter. That had become clear mere days after she’d arrived three years ago with her husband, Philip, who had replaced Howard Montgomery, the previous chief of the weather station. Howard had lived on Sable with his wife, Ruth, for fourteen years. They’d taken up residence when Emma was four years old, and Ruth had become a cherished mother figure to her. Emma still missed Ruth terribly, but they kept in touch through letters on the supply ship each month.
“Could I bother you, Abigail, for some more broth?” the captain asked.
“Of course.”
As soon as Abigail moved out of the doorway, a cold shadow seemed to depart. With relief, Emma sat primly on the edge of the chair. She clasped her hands together on her lap. It was not until she heard the loud clanking of a pot on the stove that she was able to place her full attention on the captain, who chose that moment to speak directly to her.
“I owe you an apology,” he said quietly but gruffly.
“For what?”
“I was rude to you on the beach, when I first came ashore. I’m only just remembering that now.”
Surprised by his open acknowledgment of their first encounter, Emma felt a little unraveled. “No need to apologize.”
“You’re too forgiving.”
“I can’t help it. No one’s perfect, and you’d been through a terrible ordeal, not to mention a head injury.”
He ran his fingers gently over the bump at the back of his head. “I know I fell out of the boat, but I have no memory of being struck. I only remember coming to under the water and swimming to the surface. Then talking to you on the beach. Then waking up in this bed.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she replied. “But you didn’t fall out of the boat. It capsized.” She frowned. “Are you in much pain?”
“The headache has no mercy.”
Emma glanced at the pile of books on the bed. “You probably won’t feel much like reading, I suppose.”
“I don’t think so. At least not today.” He closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and neither of them spoke.
Discreetly, while the wind howled around the house, Emma scanned the room and took in the small metal cabinet with glass doors. It was full of pill bottles and other supplies—a jar of tongue depressors, a box of latex gloves, and a blood pressure cuff.
