Ruth bounced at the knees and carried him to the wicker basket on the floor beneath the window. As soon as he was settled, she carried the basket to the kitchen. “You both need to eat and get some rest when you can, because babies like to keep you up at night.”
“Duly noted,” Logan replied, with genuine appreciation for the advice, as he pulled Emma’s chair out for her.
She sat down with care because she was still sore in certain places. But oh, how grateful she was for Ruth’s kindness as she served hot chicken soup to each of them in heavy crockery bowls, then took a loaf of fresh bread out of the oven. Ruth cut a few thick slices and placed them on a small wooden platter, which she set on the table with a stick of salted butter.
Emma glanced down at Matthew, sleeping peacefully in the wicker bassinet at Ruth’s feet. Never had she felt more fulfilled. Motherhood was something entirely new: a wonder she’d never imagined. The depths of her love and the heights of her joy were completely unexpected and astonishing.
Perhaps this was it—her true calling. Perhaps this kind of love was all anyone could ever need.
Two days later, Logan walked into the bedroom where Emma was pacing about, patting Matthew gently on the back, trying to get him to burp. He was fussing, and she wanted to put him down for the night.
“I don’t know why we have to wait so long to get on the supply ship,” Logan grumbled. “No offense to Ruth, she’s been very kind, but I’m tired of being a guest here. I want to get back to Sable.”
“I want to go home too,” Emma replied, “but theArgyleonly goes once a month, and we’re at the mercy of the weather.”
Logan sat down on the foot of the bed. “Can’t we just hire a private plane to take us? I’ve seen planes land on the beach before.”
“That would cost a fortune,” she replied, “and we don’t have that kind of money.”
Matthew let out a gurgled burp, and Emma exclaimed with delight. “Oh! What a good boy. That feels better, doesn’t it?” Smiling down at his sweet, pudgy face, she cradled him in her arms.
Logan flopped onto his back on the bed and squeezed great clumps of hair in his fists. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Recognizing that her husband was at his wit’s end, Emma moved to lay Matthew down in the bassinet. “I find it odd,” she said impatiently, “that a few months ago you used the wordtrappedto describe how you felt about living on Sable. But now you can’t stand to be in Halifax. I’m starting to worry that you won’t be happy anywhere.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he replied, scowling at the ceiling.
Emma tucked the blanket around Matthew and made sure he was settled. “Are you sure? Because you left Saskatchewan too, which was your home province. Or maybe it’smeyou want to get away from. Or any sort of long-term commitment.” She turned and faced him.
Logan sat up and looked at her with combative eyes. “You’re always questioning my intentions, making mountains out of molehills. Maybe I don’t know why I want to move from one place to the next. Maybe I just like to go with the flow. Why does everything have to be so complicated with you? You never just take things at face value.”
Emma hadn’t slept much over the past few days because of night feedings, and she lacked her usual compassion for her husband’s moodiness. “What a lovely thought,” she said with obvious sarcasm, “to just go with the flow, take off whenever you want, on a whim. How nice to be a man.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”
Emma’s blood had already reached the boiling point in her veins. She stared at her husband for a few seconds, wanting fanatically to throw all her recent frustrations at him—and maybe throw a lamp as well. But she didn’t want to fight in front of the baby, so she took a few deep, slow breaths to calm herself.
The oxygen to her brain helped her remember that neither of them had slept much over the past few days. They were both short tempered.
Emma moved to the bed and sat down beside her husband. “I just want you to be happy.”
But the words felt hollow in her mouth. She was so tired and discouraged, and heaven help her, there were all sorts of other things she would have preferred to say to him. But none of them were very nice, and they would undoubtedly lead to more fighting, and she didn’t have the energy for that. Nor did she want to wake Matthew after she’d finally got him settled.
Logan looked at her with resentment. “You say that a lot.”
“Because it’s true,” she replied, both defensively and contemptuously. She was doing her best, and she was running out of patience.
“Is it?” Logan replied. “Because sometimes I think you just want me to be agreeable. You want me to want the same things you do at any given moment.”
“No.” She frowned. “I’ve always cared about your happiness, and I’ve tried constantly not to upset you. I don’t understand. Where is this coming from?”
He flopped down on the bed again. “Forget it. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I just want to get back to Sable.”
“That’s what I want too.” It was the honest-to-God, absolute truth. “I just hope you won’t feel trapped like you did before and want to leave again after a few months.”
Emma suddenly found herself thinking about Captain Harris and his failed marriage in England because he couldn’t resist the lure of the sea and whatever lay beyond the horizon. Did all men have that same wanderlust? Or was Emma only attracted to the ones who craved adventure?
Maybe that’s what she wanted deep down as well. For years she’d been dreaming about leaving Sable and going off to university. And there were moments when she’d felt trapped because of her father’s needs, which had become substantial over the past year.
