At the end of the day, when all the gear was packed up, Oliver’s dread felt like a vise grip in his gut. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to spend more time with Emma. There were so many things he wanted to talk with her about. He wanted to hear more about her marriage, her father’s long recovery, what Matthew had been like as a baby.
He sent his crewmen down to the tender boat but held back to say goodbye to Emma and her father. Anything to stall the inevitable.
“We made good progress today,” John said, “thanks to you and your men.”
“They enjoyed every minute of it,” Oliver replied.
Emma, her father, and Matthew got into the Jeep, and Oliver shut the passenger-side door for John. He stood at the open window for a moment, looking at Emma behind the wheel. He still wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
She turned the key in the ignition, and the engine sputtered to life.
“Hop in,” John said. “We’ll give you a ride down to the beach.”
A reprieve! Oliver smiled and got into the back seat beside Matthew.
It was a bumpy ride in the back of the Jeep, and Oliver held the grip overhead as he bounced on the seat. Emma drove slowly through anarrow passage of thick bayberry bushes while swallows chirped and darted above them. When they reached the open beach, she shifted into a higher gear and sped up on a direct path toward the tender boat, where his men were standing around, waiting.
She pulled to a halt, shut off the engine, and got out. She thanked Oliver’s crewmen and shook their hands while her father remained seated in the Jeep. Then she turned to Oliver.
“Well ... thank you again. It’s too bad you couldn’t stay longer. I would have loved to show you the rose garden. It’s grown up quite a bit. You wouldn’t recognize it.”
Oliver contemplated how badly he wanted to go with her to the rose garden, and that’s when he knew: the feelings he’d wrestled with years ago had never died. They were as strong as ever, perhaps even more so after certain life experiences and deeper self-reflection.
It had taken Oliver seven years to return. Seven years to think about their week together and drum up the courage to see her again and face what could have been if he’d been brave enough to love her when he’d had the chance.
And there it was—the truth of it all. He’d always regretted walking away from something that could have been beautiful. At the time, he couldn’t fully comprehend how important it was to grab hold of happiness while you could, and hang on to it. But he understood it so much better now. He’d been through a war and a shipwreck. He knew how fragile life could be. Perhaps a part of him hadn’t believed he deserved happiness. He’d lost so many people who mattered to him. Sometimes he still felt guilty for being alive when others were not.
But he was not without hope. Getting to know Emma, and leaving her behind, had taught him something about a life squandered. And he’d squandered enough. Seven years’ worth.
Oliver checked his watch. “I still have some time.”
“Are you sure?” Emma replied. “You don’t have to stick to your schedule?”
“We do, but we don’t have to raise the anchor until sunset.” He strode to his crewmen, who stood around the boat. “Change of plans, gentlemen. Take the supplies to the ship, unload, then come back for me in an hour, down at the west end.”
The men cheerfully agreed. They dragged the boat to the water’s edge and hopped in, and Oliver pushed them farther out until they floated. Then he ran back in, splashing through a shallow incoming wave.
“Let’s go,” he said to Emma with enthusiasm, and got back into the Jeep.
A short while later, back at Main Station, he said goodbye to John and Matthew. Then Oliver got into the front seat beside Emma. She told Matthew she’d be back in an hour, shifted into first gear, and steered toward the beach and the rose garden to the west.
Chapter 21
It was like walking into an explosion of fragrance.
Oliver followed Emma into the circular garden, where the bushes had flourished and grown more densely together. The pale-pink roses were in full bloom.
“You were right,” he said. “It’s barely recognizable.”
Emma walked backward, facing him. “I didn’t come here for years after you left. Life was so busy, looking after Matthew when he was a baby. I only returned for the first time a few months ago, so I had the same reaction you’re having now.”
They strolled in silence, apart, smelling the soft petals and admiring the astonishing array of blooms.
“It’s amazing how nature can endure like this,” Oliver said. “In the open Atlantic. Completely out of sight.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “I have to ask ... Have you ever thought about trying again to go to university?”
Emma laughed. “Not in years.”
“Why not?”
