“That’s not what I said.”
Emma wiped a tear from her cheek and fought to pull herself together. “I hope I’ll still have a home here after I tell you what’s been happening, because you’re not going to like it.”
Her father’s expression darkened with concern. “I’ll always support you, sweetheart, no matter what. But you need to tell me what’s wrong.”
Despite her tears and apprehensions about how her father might react, it would be a tremendous release to confess the truth. So she let it all out. “I love Captain Harris. I’ve loved him since the day I met him, and when he came back here and proposed to me, I thought all my dreams were coming true.” She paused briefly and wiped her runny nose. “And we ... we were intimate.”
Her father drew back slightly. “What are you saying?”
She kept her eyes downcast, until at long last, she managed to get the words out. “I’m pregnant.”
The world stopped spinning. Her father didn’t speak. He looked away, then stood and returned to his chair.
“Please say something,” Emma pleaded.
He blinked a few times. “I don’t know what to say.” He rested his forehead on his knuckles. “Is this why you married Logan? For the same reason? I always wondered about that.”
Emma couldn’t form a response.
“And is this why Captain Harris offered to marry you as well?”
“No!” Emma shouted, resenting the implication that she had tried to trap both men. “He proposed to me before anything like that happened. I thought we were going to be together, and I loved him. Please don’t hate me, Papa, or him either. He still has no idea I’m pregnant.”
But that was a lie. Emma had written several letters to Oliver and shared the news of her condition. She’d pledged her undying love and admitted that she was desperate for him to hurry back. Why in theworld was she defending his honor when it was quite possible that he’d already abandoned her?
Emma shut her eyes and reminded herself that, since Logan, she had trouble trusting people. Maybe it was possible that Oliver was simply delayed, along with his letters, and she needed to continue to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Or maybe something terrible had happened.
In the end, she supposed she defended Oliver to her father because she didn’t want him to think her a fool. Nor did she want to think it of herself.
Chapter 24
March 1954
Sable Island during the winter was a good place to hide—and a very good place to hide a pregnancy. Most days, the residents remained indoors or scurried from one building to the next, ducking their heads in the frigid North Atlantic winds. On milder, rainy days, the dampness sent a stubborn chill into everyone’s bones that was not easy to expel. It nestled deep into the marrow and gave winter a bad name.
Contrarily for Emma, those months of hibernation provided a welcome element of disguise. A heavy wool coat could hide a multitude of sins—though not necessarily at home.
“Mommy, you’re getting fat!” Matthew chortled one evening in the great room as he nuzzled his face into her belly, where she lay on the sofa, reading a magazine.
Emma tensed, and her father slapped his hand on the armrest of his chair. “Matthew! Never say that to a lady, much less to your mother.”
Taken aback by the reprimand, Matthew sank to sit on the floor beside Emma. “Sorry, Grandad.”
Emma rubbed the top of his head. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You didn’t know. But Grandad’s right. That’s not a nice thing to say to someone.”
He spoke sulkily. “Can I go upstairs?”
“Yes, it’s time for bed anyway. Go brush your teeth, and I’ll be up in a minute to say good night.”
He dashed up the stairs.
Emma sat forward and tossed her magazine on the coffee table. “You didn’t need to be so harsh with him.”
“I don’t want him saying things like that,” her father staunchly replied.
“Are you trying to teach him manners? Or are you worried he’ll say something that might start rumors?”
