“How long have you been living here?” he asked, looking up at the noisy birds teeming about.
“All my life. I was born here.”
“I didn’t think anyone lived here permanently,” he replied. “I thought it was always a one- or two-year posting.”
“There aren’t many of us who have been here this long. Most come and go. After they’ve been here awhile, they find the isolation more difficult than they expect.”
“But not you?”
She shrugged. “It’s all I’ve ever known.”
The road opened to the wide sandy beach, and Emma shifted into a higher gear.
“How did he get along at the staff house?” Emma’s father asked when she returned and hung the keys to the Jeep on the hook by the door.
“He hasn’t met the men yet,” she explained. “They’re still unloading supplies. I took him to drop off his bag at the staff house and returned him to the beach. He’s Joseph’s problem now.”
“I suspect he put him straight to work.”
“He did,” Emma replied.
“Good.” Her father leaned on his cane as he limped from the kitchen to the great room. With a groan of annoyance, he sank onto his chair. “I wish I could be out there.”
Emma remembered how he loved to roll up his sleeves and help with the deliveries. She squeezed his shoulder as she moved to the sofa. “Is there anything you’d like me to do on your behalf? I could go back out.”
“I’m sure Joseph has it all under control,” he replied. Then a shadow moved across his expression, and he frowned at the window. “Let’s face it. They don’t need me anymore.”
Emma sensed an oncoming wave of depression, and wished she knew how to head it off at the pass. Some days it was easy to redirect his thoughts. Other days, his mood spiraled fast and there was no way to prevent him from falling into a dark and distressing melancholy.
“That’s not true,” she swore to him. “They look to you for leadership.”
He dismissed her comment, and they sat in silence for a moment or two.
“That new man isn’t like the other staff men,” her father said. “I hope he can survive.”
“I think he will. He seems intelligent.”
Her father nodded. “That’s what makes him so different. Half the men who come here don’t even have a high school diploma, and he’s talking about a university-level research project.”
“He’s ambitious.” Emma scratched the back of her head. “How old is he?”
“Twenty-eight. Single. Never been married.”
She gave him a look. “Don’t start, Papa.”
He reclined in his chair and sighed dejectedly. “Oh, you can’t blame me for trying. Anything to help you forget you-know-who.”
Emma pressed both hands to her heart. “I give you my solemn word, I’m over that. Because you were right. It was a childish pipe dream. All I want now is to get through the summer and start my program in the fall.”
“Good,” her father said. “Because the last thing I want is for you to spend the rest of your days being my nursemaid. Your mother would come back to haunt me.”
The return of his wit and humor came as a relief to Emma. “You don’t need a nursemaid,” she assured him. “You’ve come leaps and bounds since the surgery, and you continue to improve every day.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.” He reached for his book and opened it.
Emma rose from the sofa and kissed the top of his head.
Chapter 13
