Most importantly, at the end of those six weeks, she and Logan were in possession of a thirty-two-page academic paper, written in longhand, waiting to be typed—and Emma was happy again. Her heart had become full of passion, and she no longer pined for Captain Harris. Infact, she barely thought of him. Or if she did, she was able to shrug it off and take pride in her accomplishments and the thrills and joys of new experiences.
Like kissing. How delicious it was ... to be kissed. Dizzyingly wonderful. Furthermore, it was addictive.
But somewhere on that addictive path, Emma had lost the discipline to resist what came next ... when the kissing wasn’t quite enough. And like the meandering horse trails through the heath on foggy mornings, the kissing had taken her to unexpected destinations.
In mid-August, Emma woke to the song of the Ipswich sparrows chirping outside her bedroom window. Normally, the sound of their music inspired her to rise from bed, don her riding clothes, and venture to the barn to present Willow with her morning apple. But on that day, Emma fought a flood of tears, rolled to her side, squeezed her pillow in her arms, and buried her face into it so snugly that she nearly smothered herself.
An hour later, distressed and desperate to talk to Logan, Emma rode Willow along North Beach, homebound. At long last, he appeared in the distance, galloping toward her. She let out a breath of relief and battled another outpouring of tears.
They reached each other, and Logan pulled his horse to a halt. “I’m happy to see you,” he said. “What happened last night? I was worried.”
At the last minute, Emma had called and left a message at the staff house to cancel their regular meeting.
“I’m sorry,” she explained, feeling fragile, “but I couldn’t see you. I needed some time to myself.”
Logan’s eyebrows pulled together with concern. “What’s wrong?”
She spoke confidentially. “We need to talk.”
“All right.”
They dismounted and led the horses toward the water.
“You’re so quiet,” Logan said. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. I just don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?” he asked. “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”
Emma’s stomach pitched and rolled. She worried she might throw up. Swallowing heavily, she stopped and faced him. “I’m late.”
Logan shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean my monthly hasn’t come,” she explained. “It should have started two weeks ago, and I don’t know what to do.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she couldn’t keep the tears at bay.
Logan immediately pulled her into his arms. He held her close and rubbed her back. “My God, Emma. Are you sure? Maybe you mixed up the dates.”
“I’m positive.” She buried her face in his shoulder. “I’ve been anxious for days, waiting for it to come, but it never does, and this morning I felt sick. I’m still feeling sick right now.”
“Shh,” he whispered, cupping the back of her head. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
She stepped back and wiped under her nose. “Is it? I’m supposed to leave for university soon. How can I tell my father that I’m pregnant?”
Logan took hold of her hand. “Let’s sit down.”
Together, they dropped to their knees on the sand and sat back on their heels.
“I don’t want you to worry,” he said. “We’re a team, you and me. I’ve never been as happy as I’ve been since I came here.”
“I’ve been happy too,” she replied, fighting more tears.
“I can’t imagine my life without you,” he continued. “And I understand that you’re anxious, but maybe this isn’t such a bad thing. You know how I feel about you. I’m not sure if I’ve said it, but I love you. So, if this is what holds us together, then I’m glad it’s happening.”
Emma looked at him through the blur of tear-drenched lashes. “What are you saying?”
He pulled her close and held her tight. “That I don’t want to lose you. Ever. As far as I’m concerned, this is fate, and it means we should get married.”
She sat back again and spoke shakily. “Really?”
