He donned his reading glasses and read over the first page. Peering up at Logan over the rims of his glasses, he asked, “You’re a veterinarian?”
Emma leaned over her father’s shoulder to look at the file.
“I mostly treated horses and cows,” Logan explained.
“That’ll be an asset here,” her father replied. “And you’re from Saskatchewan?”
“Correct.”
Her father removed his glasses and dropped them onto the blotter. “What in the world brought you all the way to Nova Scotia? And even farther, to Sable Island?”
Logan removed his wool cap. He squeezed it, almost mangled it, in front of him. “I’m here because I don’t want to work on farms for the rest of my life. I’d like to teach.”
Suddenly curious, Emma inclined her head. “Teach what?”
He shifted his weight nervously. “I’m not sure yet. But I came here to study the wild horses, maybe even do a research project—in my spare time, of course. I thought that might help me get my foot in the door at a university.”
Emma’s father glanced over his shoulder at her. “Are you listening to this?”
“I am.” She clasped her hands loosely behind her back. “What would be the focus of your research project, specifically?”
“Well ...” Seeming nervous, Logan continued to wring his cap in his hands. “I’m curious about natural herd behavior, how the stallions behave as alpha males, whether the herds take on any family dynamics, and, if so, if the families stay together for life.”
Her father wagged a finger at Logan. “My daughter will be a great help to you. She’s been studying the herds since she was ten years old. It’s her passion.”
Logan’s eyebrows lifted. When he spoke, his voice was animated. “No kidding. I’d love to talk to you about it sometime, if you’re willing to share what you’ve learned.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but her father spoke first. “She already has pages of written notes. You wouldn’t believe it. A whole box full of scribblers in her bedroom. Do you know where they are, Emma?”
“Yes, but . . .”
Her father continued presumptuously. “You can read over what’s she’s already jotted down. But don’t forget that you have a job to do here. That’ll always take priority. Understood?”
“Absolutely,” Logan replied. “That goes without saying.”
Her father picked up his pen and leaned forward over the desk. “Good. Now let’s fill out some forms. Then Emma can take you to the staff house and introduce you to your supervisor, Joseph. After the supplies are dealt with, you’ll start your training with lifesaving techniques. I hope you’re a good swimmer in rough currents, because if we have any more shipwrecks like we had last spring, you’ll be up to your ears in salt water.”
Emma met Logan’s apprehensive gaze and considered the fact that he’d grown up on the prairies. Had he ever experienced the full force of the ocean in a storm? Did he have any idea what he’d gotten himself into?
Since it was too late for him to back out now, she endeavored to ease his fears. Emma shook her head and crinkled her nose because there was no point inducing unnecessary anxiety—and potentially asleepless night—when the poor man hadn’t even set foot in the boat shed yet.
She hoped he wouldn’t be too put off by the skull collection.
“I never saw so many brazen birds in one spot,” Logan said as Emma steered the Jeep through a colony of terns. They flitted about and screeched constantly. One landed on the road, directly in front of her left tire, so she hit the brakes.
“This is their territory,” she explained, “so they have the right of way.”
“Is that a Sable Island bylaw?” he asked.
“Not exactly,” she replied, “but it’s an Emma Clarkson law, and everyone on the island respects it.”
Logan leaned over the side of the open vehicle to keep watch on the sandy path. “Slow down—there’s a stubborn one just ahead of your right tire.”
Emma touched the brakes and waited for an all clear.
“There he goes. Out of harm’s way now.” Logan sat back. “Carry on, soldier.”
Emma gently hit the gas and drove slowly.
