The wind gusted through the gutters, and the whole house shuddered. Glancing briefly at the ceiling, Emma worried that the roof might blow off at any second.
Meanwhile, her father was tapping his forefinger on the armrest of his chair and quietly mulling over the news she’d just delivered. Emma suspected he was most troubled by the fact that she had taken such action without discussing it with him first and had followed through behind his back. She felt an urgent need to explain.
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t like the idea and you’d worry about me leaving the island. You’d lose sleep for months about something that might not even happen if I wasn’t accepted.” She sat up a little straighter and raised her chin. “Besides that, you’d spend the whole time trying to talk me out of it, and I just wanted to see what would happen if I applied.”
He spoke with dismay. “You’ve never said anything about wanting to go to university. Why wouldn’t you share that with me?”
“I just told you why.”
His expression grew strained. “But I thought you were happy here. This is your home. And you’ve had a better education than most.”
“I am happy,” she maintained. “I’ve loved growing up here, and you’ve been the best teacher I could ever ask for. But you know how much I enjoy learning ... and you know that I’ve always been interested in animal behavior.” She’d been studying the wild horses of Sable Island since she was ten years old. “I feel the same way about human behavior, but how can I learn about that when my world is so small? There are never more than forty people living here at a time, and we’re spread out across miles. I’m tired of learning everything from books.”
Her father scrutinized her expression. “How long have you been thinking about this?”
“About a year, I suppose,” she confessed. “But with the war on, it seemed like a pipe dream. I couldn’t possibly fathom leaving the island then. But the war is over now, and I want to get away.”
Her father exhaled harshly, as if she had sucker punched him in the gut.
“Not fromyou,” she quickly amended. “That’s the hardest part of this, the one thing that holds me back because ...”
Emma paused. How could she tell him that she feared he might become lonely or depressed?
“Because you mean everything to me,” she said tactfully.
“I’d never want to hold you back,” he insisted. “But I don’t want you to make a mistake either.”
“How would it be a mistake?”
All at once, she felt contentious. It was no surprise that her father was against the idea—she knew he would be—and this was exactly what she’d been dreading since the letter arrived: An argument that would require her to stand up to him, to disregard his wishes, and to disobey him if he laid down the law. And ultimately to disappoint and hurt him.
He pointed at the window. “You have no idea about the world out there, Emma. It’s a dangerous place, even during peacetime. Especially for a young woman alone. You’ve lived a sheltered life here among good people, and you don’t know what evils exist beyond these shores.” His tone was growing increasingly intense.
Emma swallowed hard. “Now you’re just trying to scare me.”
“I’m trying to educate you,” he said, “as I’ve always done—and to help you appreciate the life you have here.”
“I do appreciate it,” she argued, “which is why this decision has been so difficult. And I won’t pretend that I’m not nervous about going away, because I am. What if I get there and I hate living in the city, or I fail in the program? I’ve never gone to a real school before.”
“You’re intelligent and disciplined,” he said. “You won’t fail in the classroom. That’s not what concerns me.”
“What is it, then?” she asked, feeling her confidence wane.
His cheeks reddened. “Like I said, it’s a scary world out there. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. If you were hurt somehow, in any way, I’d never forgive myself for letting you go.”
There it was. The truth at last.
Emma’s heart softened, and she moved to kneel on the floor in front of him. She took both his hands in hers. “Nothing bad will happen, and I’ll write every day. When theArgylearrives, you’ll have enough letters to keep you reading for a month.”
He looked down at their linked hands. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I know,” she gently replied, “but I can’t stay here forever. I need to live my own life.”
“But you could have a good lifehere,” he persisted pleadingly. “I don’t know why you won’t consider Frank O’Reilly. He’s obviously in love with you.”
Frank was the chief wireless operator, who had taken up residence on Sable in ’44. He was young and handsome, and every woman of every age on the island had developed a crush on him the day he’d leaped out of the surfboat. Even Emma had felt exhilarated at the sight of him. But after a few evenings in his presence during her father’s Saturday socials, the infatuation had been short lived.
“I don’t like his arrogance,” she said.
