“What else did you learn?” he asked. “You were looking for information about the horses. Are they still there?”
Joanna picked up her coffee cup. “Yes, they are, and there’s a story about that. Remember when you told me about Emma writing letters to the government to try and stop people from capturing them and shipping them off the island to sell them?”
“Yes.”
“Well, the government finally listened, and in 1961 they passed a law that doesn’t allow anyone to interfere with the horses. You can’t even touch or feed them. They’re to be left alone and remain wild. They’re federally protected.”
“Goodness. Isn’t that wonderful.”
“It is, isn’t it? And these days, no one lives there except for the weather station personnel. But here’s the best part.” Joanna paused a moment—worried again that she was overstepping—but decided to forge ahead nevertheless. “I’ve looked into it, and it’s possible to visit. There’s a helicopter pad. Or airplanes can land on the beach.”
Joanna forced herself to stop talking. She waited for her grandfather to say something.
“You’re chuffed to bits, aren’t you,” he finally remarked. “I can hear it in your voice.”
Joanna set down her coffee cup. “Yes, and I can’t lie. I’m buzzin’ to go there. I want to see the horses, like you did.” She hesitated and chewed on her thumbnail. “I don’t suppose you’d come with me?”
He spoke decisively. “No, sweetheart. I’m too old for that.”
“Oh, tosh! You’re as fit as any sixty-year-old. I was looking at pictures in the books, and most of the people who visit Sable Island these days are older, probably because it’s not cheap. But for some people, it’s a lifelong dream.”
He cleared his throat uneasily, and Joanna sensed his reluctance. It left her feeling deflated. “I really want to go,” she told him pleadingly. “It seems like such an incredible place. And the horses ...”
“I’ll never disagree with you about that,” he replied. “And you don’t need my permission to go.”
“I’m not asking for your permission. I’m asking you to come with me. I really wish you would.”
“Why?”
She thought long and hard about that. Was it because she didn’t want to go alone? Or did she want this for him as much as for herself?
“I don’t know,” she finally confessed. “Maybe I want to take you back to a place that was special to you, so that you can see it again and enjoy the memory of it and maybe get some closure.”
“I don’t need closure,” he told her. “I got that a long time ago when I went there with a ring.”
Joanna looked down at the open book on the table and flipped a few pages. “Forgive me for saying this, Grandad, but I’m not sure I believe you. I saw the look in your eyes when you told me about Emma. I felt your frustration about how things turned out.”
Or maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.
“Either way,” he replied, “it doesn’t matter. A visit to Sable isn’t going to change anything. It’s all in the history books now. Emma’s not there. She’s long gone.”
Joanna tapped her finger on one of her travel brochures. “But what if we could find her?”
An electric current seemed to buzz through the telephone lines.
“No, no ... don’t start with that,” he said.
“With what?” she asked innocently.
“I know what you’re up to. You’re trying to play matchmaker.”
Joanna chuckled guiltily. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Don’t get shirty with me, you little rascal. I can read you like a book.”
Finally, Joanna sat back and groaned. “Okay, fine! But humor me. Wouldn’t it be fun to take a walk down memory lane?”
“For what purpose?”
