The wind shifted, so they retraced their steps to the pond where Willow and Mrs. Miniver were grazing at the water’s edge.
“I apologize,” Emma said. “I don’t think I’ll be good company for the rest of the tour. I’m a bit heartbroken.”
She bowed her head, and Oliver wished he could take her into his arms and comfort her, but that would cross a line.
With a slender, graceful hand, she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and looked up at him with wet eyes. He stared back at her, and that was the moment he knew mere feelings of friendship with this woman were impossible. He was entranced and enamored, and fighting desire.
A tear spilled onto her cheek, and Emma wiped it away. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This is so embarrassing.”
He was embarrassed himself because he was awestruck and speechless. He’d never known anyone like this woman. His heart was cracked open.
“Maybe this has something to do with the fact that I never knew my own mother,” she suddenly confessed in a flood of emotion, her breath shuddering, more tears streaming. “She died when I was born, which maybe was my fault ... I don’t know exactly what happened that day. My father doesn’t like to talk about it. And I’ve always felt guilty that Willow was separated from her mother as well. And now her mother is dead, and there’s no future for them, no chance to be together someday. No more hope for that. It’s the end.”
Oliver observed Emma’s deep self-awareness, which was remarkable for one so young. He was equally surprised by her openness and candor. What a rare person she was.
“I’m sorry you lost your mother,” he said, because it was the proper thing to say, and he was grateful for social conventions. Without them, he would be lost.
Or would he? He stared at Emma, their eyes fixed on each other’s, and felt a surprising calm wash over him. He was glad to be there for her, simply to listen. That was all she needed.
“I wish you weren’t leaving so soon,” she said. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.”
“I’ve enjoyed getting to know you as well.”
“I wish we could talk more.”
“I wish the same.”
And there it was—the admission, and the surrender to the impulses of his heart, an organ that had become sadly unresponsive in recent years.
“But we still have time, don’t we?” he added. “We can keep talking. Would you like to walk back to the station rather than ride?”
He waited while Emma considered his suggestion. She glanced toward the clearing where they’d found the remains of Willow’s mother. Then she took a deep breath and let it out. “No. I promised you wild horses. Let’s ride to the beach.”
As far as Oliver was concerned, it didn’t matter what they did. He wanted whatever she wanted.
“All right,” he replied.
Oliver strode to Mrs. Miniver and swung himself up into the saddle.
“This is your last day here,” Emma said as she tapped her heels to urge Willow into a trot. “I want you to remember Sable Island for its beauty, not as a place of shipwrecks and death and my foolish crying just now.”
Oliver felt a jolt. He knew he was looking at someone very important—someone who would have a profound effect on his life. He didn’t know what that effect might be, but he knew he would never forget Emma Clarkson.
“I promise I’ll remember nothing but beauty,” he told her.
Emma steered Willow toward the high dune and launched into a gallop. He kept pace with her as they climbed to the breezy top, and there, down on the beach, beneath the blue sky and cottony clouds, with the vast, rolling ocean behind them, was a family of horses.
There were striking against the white sand, walking leisurely ahead of a magnificent black stallion. They moved in perfect harmony with each other.
“You’ve kept your promise,” Oliver said, feeling dazzled by the smile Emma gave him.
Together, they watched from the high dune until the herd began to gallop and soon grew distant.
“Should we follow?” he asked, wanting to be wild and reckless.
“I wish we could,” Emma replied, “but I’m expected back at the house to prepare for the party.”
Oh yes, the party. He’d forgotten about that. It was a disturbing reminder that this was his last night on the island. Tomorrow, he and his crew would board a ship and return to civilization, where he would face questions about the loss of theBelvedereand her cargo. It could mean the end of his career and livelihood.
