P.S. I forgot to mention that Oliver had no idea that Logan was in prison and that we were no longer together. Papa wrote to him many times but never mentioned it, so that’s why Oliver stayed away.
As you can imagine, Papa had a lot to answer for and we had a heated discussion about it. His excuse wasthat he had no idea that Oliver had feelings for me, and if he’d known, he would have encouraged a visit. He said he was just trying to protect me from further heartbreak.
In all honesty, I’m not entirely sure I believe him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s arranged things to keep me at his side. (But not the seal attack. I’m 100% confident that he didn’t arrange for that to happen!) At any rate, he said he was sorry, and he was quite remorseful.
Hugs and kisses,
Emma
September 26, 1953
Dear Emma,
I almost did fall out of my chair when I read your letter!
I’m so happy for you! It was always crystal clear to me that you loved Captain Harris deeply, and it wasn’t just a schoolgirl crush, as you often suggested. There was something special between you. And I also suspected that he said what he did on that last day to allow you to move on and go to university as you’d planned. He didn’t want to hold you back.
I’d very much like to meet him. Based on your descriptions, I’m sure he’s an impressive man. He must be intelligent, too, if he recognized how special you are. But I’m sorry you’ve both had to wait so long.So many lost years ...
I crossed that out because nothing good can come from regretting the past or wallowing in what can’t be changed. Don’t let yourself fall into that trap. Nothingcan be done about what happened, so go forward with gusto and dive headfirst into the future.
I’d like to imagine that you’re smiling right now. I hope you’re happier than ever.
To answer your questions about telling Matthew or starting divorce proceedings, my only advice is to follow your heart and do what you feel is right. Perhaps you’ll prefer to wait until you have a ring on your finger before you divorce Matthew’s father. (But that sounds like advice, doesn’t it? I apologize. You’re a grown woman and I have faith in your good judgement. It’s just food for thought, tossed into the air. And maybe I’m a little jaded, too. Or maybe “careful” is a better word.)
Say hello to your father for me, and please forgive him for his missteps. He’s a good man and he loves you dearly and only wants to protect you. Maybe you can relate to that better now that you’re a mother. It’s so difficult to let our children go into the big, bad, dangerous world. Worrying about them is unavoidable. It comes with the territory.
Much love,
Ruth
Chapter 23
On New Year’s Eve, the great room was alive with laughter and singing as the staff men gathered around the piano, where Emma’s father played a continuous parade of popular tunes from the ’30s and ’40s. One of the crewmen had visited earlier in the day to hang streamers from the ceiling and drop off a basket of noisemakers.
But Emma was in no mood for singing or blowing horns. She’d been feeling down since Christmas Day because Oliver had not yet returned, nor had she received a letter from him. She tried to remind herself that letters often went astray en route to Sable, and it certainly wasn’t easy for anyone to arrive exactly on schedule. Sometimes, if the weather was foul, the supply ship could be detained for a week or more. And no doubt, Oliver had much to do in England to arrange his affairs before his return.
So she did her best to remain optimistic, which wasn’t easy under the circumstances, because she’d been feeling sick in the mornings for quite some time, and her monthly was long overdue.
There was no point sticking her head in the sand. Clearly, she was expecting, but what could she do about her anxieties except to wait for Oliver to arrive?
Shortly before midnight, the wireless station chief popped the cork on a bottle of bubbly and poured drinks for everyone in white paper cups. The clock struck twelve. Her father played “Auld Lang Syne,” and with arms about shoulders, swaying from side to side, everyone sang along.
Emma remained in the kitchen, watching from afar. She’d been so tired lately, sapped of energy, always wanting to nap in the afternoons. The fatigue made it difficult to stay awake and share in everyone’s high spirits.
Turning away from the party, she grabbed her wool coat from the hook at the back door and ventured outside, down the wooden steps.
It was a mild winter night. The fog was thick with the salty fragrance of the sea. There was not a single breath of wind, but the damp chill caused Emma to gather her coat collar tighter about her neck as she left the noise of the party and crossed the station yard to head toward the high dune over North Beach. She climbed to the top and paused, slightly out of breath, and looked out at the ocean. The fog was thick, and the night was dark. She could barely see the waves. She could only hear them.
Emma’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest.Why hasn’t he come?
With bone-deep despair, she sank to the ground, sat back on her heels, and clasped her hands together in prayer.Please, God, keep him safe and send him home to me. Oliver, hurry if you can. I couldn’t bear to be disappointed again. Not with our baby on the way.
The sand was cold, and her knees grew numb. Emma rose to her feet, faced the ocean, and listened to the surf breaking on the beach below. A chill rippled down the length of her spine, so she turned away and walked down the steep slope to return to the warmth of home.
By the time she arrived, the party was over, and everyone was saying goodbye in the station yard, wishing each other a happy new year. She joined them and pretended to be jovial.
A week later, the January supply ship arrived.
