“Yes.”
He continued to hesitate until it became unbearable.
“Please go,” she implored, clinging to her pride.
“All right.” He held out his hand. “Goodbye, Emma. It was a pleasure to know you.”
Swallowing hard, she accepted the hand he offered and shook it. “Likewise.”
His hand was strong and warm, and she made every effort to remember how it felt, to imprint it on her mind forever. Then she forced herself to pull away from him because she wanted the rest of this parting to be swift. She couldn’t bear it any other way—the slow, agonizing ravaging of her heart.
The captain finally turned and left her standing alone on the beach with the cruel ocean wind whipping at her hair. She watched him walk away, and although she tried, she still could not accept that she would never see him again. Everything in her heart and soul cried otherwise—that this was not over, and somehow the connection they’d shared would continue to exist, even from afar.
As she began to walk in the other direction, the terns darted and screeched incessantly over their colony on the dune. They always seemed so riled up. So incensed. That morning, Emma felt completely in tune with them.
Chapter 8
Following the departure of theBelvederecrew, life on Sable Island returned to its rhythmic ebb and flow, day to day, week to week. The wild herds came back from their springtime feast of sandwort on the west end of the island, and the staff men resumed their scheduled beach patrols, morning, noon, and night, searching for signs of shipwrecks.
During the war, the Sable Island community had been on high alert for German U-boats, but since the invention of radar, and now during peacetime, the odds of a ship running aground at Sable had diminished. Some said the wreck of theBelvederemight be the last of its kind and the Humane Establishment might become a thing of the past.
Although Emma had loved growing up on Sable, she now saw no future for herself there. Something had changed since her experience with Captain Harris. Perhaps it was an awakening of some sort, physical and emotional. Suddenly her goal to receive a proper education on the mainland had become vital, her own personal lifeboat. It gave her a sense of purpose and helped her to remain hopeful and optimistic whenever her thoughts drifted to the captain and the horrible agony of his departure.
There were times when it all felt like a dream—the bliss of those hours they’d spent alone together, walking or riding—but it was a dream that had not ended happily. It had, in fact, become rather nightmarish. Captain Harris was gone, but her longings persisted. Sometimes theyweighed her down like an anchor, and it became difficult to focus on the simplest task when she was gazing off into space, dreaming about the sound of his voice and imagining his touch, his kiss, and so much more.
But oh, how those desires grated on her. They were constantly eclipsed by the hurtful things he’d said to her that final morning on the beach. Whenever she replayed that scene in her mind, the humiliation returned, usually accompanied by exasperation and anger.
She was not accustomed to falling apart emotionally. It was not something she was enjoying, so she struggled to soldier on—as the captain of her dreams had once put it so eloquently.
Early one foggy morning when the mist was so thick it left a cold wet film on her cheeks, Emma walked westward across the heath. She was still melancholy about the captain but continued to promise herself that all she needed was change—a new life on the mainland with scholarly pursuits to keep her mind occupied, new friends and places to explore. All she had to do was survive the summer on Sable Island and try not to think of him so often.
Suddenly, out of the fog, came a shadow. But no ... it was not a shadow but a person, walking toward her on the same narrow horse trail. They met in a dense cluster of fragrant bayberries.
“Good morning,” Frank said, smiling. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else out so early.”
“Neither did I,” Emma replied, feeling none of the awkwardness she usually felt around Frank. There was something about his smile that morning. For once, it didn’t seem to prey on her.
“I needed some exercise after a long overnight shift,” he said. “I’m just heading back now.”
“I should turn back as well.” Emma glanced over her shoulder, toward Main Station. “I didn’t realize how far I’d walked.”
“Let’s walk together?” he asked.
“Why not? But let’s take the beach.”
“North or south?”
“You choose.”
Frank didn’t need to think about it. He led Emma to a break in the dune on the north side of the island.
“Have you gone to look at theBelvederelately?” he asked.
“Not lately,” she replied. She’d been resisting the urge because she knew it would only take her backward.
“She’s more than half-buried,” Frank told her. “It must have been that nor’easter on Wednesday. Soon she’ll be gone, sucked into the sand with all the others. Like she was never here.”
Emma swallowed uneasily. There were more than three hundred shipwrecks buried around her island home. More evidence to confirm that it was time to leave this place and start fresh somewhere else, with new memories and fewer ghosts.
