Page 43 of The Temptation of Roan Island

I turn my head toward him.

He’s moved closer, as if to read the passage along with me. If I lean forward only an inch, my mouth would press to his. But I don’t. “It wasn’t very good.”

He laughs, his hold releasing as he resumes combing his fingers through my loose hair. “I was enjoying it. I want to know what comes next. Keep reading.”

I snap the book shut, and Shemaiah laughs again.

The clock on the mantel chimes the hour.

The warmth of his touch disappears altogether as Shemaiah reaches into his vest pocket for his watch and snaps it open at the press of a button. “The boat should be here soon.”

Mrs. Darning sent a telegram yesterday saying she would arrive back on the island today. No mention of Tobias. No other information.

Shemaiah helps me stand, and escorts me through the house to the dock. He holds my hand in the crook of his arm as he explains his book and waits with me. I don’t want to admit that I like it. The physical contact soothes something in me, as does the normality of sharing stories we’ve enjoyed.

The wind careening off the lake is a touch warmer than yesterday. Springtime is in the air, and the wilderness sprouts with vibrant color. Climbing ivy, once dormant, now green, crawls the walls of the manor. But grey clouds pepper the bright blue sky.

“Looks like rain later,” Shemaiah says.

I cross my arms to block out the wind.

“We should have gotten you a sweater.” He drapes his jacket over my shoulders. He’s always doing that—making sure I’m warm enough, taking care of me in subtle ways. I’m struck once more by his generosity. Over and over and over, Shemaiah has given to me.

“Would you like me to get one for you?” he asks.

“No.” I take his hand. His gaze dances down to where I’ve initiated a link between us. “I don’t want you to go.”

He nods and puts an arm around me.

We see the puffs of smoky-steam first, gray wisps rising on the horizon in intervals. Next, the brass smokestack appears, followed by the hull and the cabin. The sound of it chugging across the lake’s expanse is followed by the clank of the metal and gears as the boat cuts though the water. A horn blasts, announcing its arrival.

In the distance, I see Mrs. Darning standing in the bow, facing the island. She’s dressed in her severe black attire, with a dark shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and her silver hair concealed under a hat.

“Where is he?” I ask her the second the boat docks. An urgent ache settles in my bones as I look around, trying to see into the cabin.

Mrs. Darning picks up her satchel and steps onto the rickety dock, taking Shemaiah’s offered hand. “He wasn’t in New Caldon.”

“Then where is he?” I demand, on the verge of angry tears.

Her expression is impassive. She shrugs and offers no further explanation.

“We’ll find him.” Shemaiah places a comforting hand on my back before turning his attention to Mrs. Darning. “Why did you come back without him?” His tone is sharp in a way that satisfies my growing anger.

“The next new moon party is tomorrow. I assumed I’d be needed. I’ve been gone quite long enough.”

“You didn’t complete your task.”

She glares right back at him, matching his stare with her own. “I sent Gray to Briarton to check there.” Mrs. Darning picks up her skirts and turns toward the house.

“It’ll be alright.” Shemaiah’s thumb rubs across my wet cheek, making me realize I’m crying.

Where else could Toby be? It hasn’t been that long since he visited me at The Sanatorium. Where is he?

Darning sets a brisk pace back to the house, and I struggle to keep up on the broken path covered in brambles. There’s so much more I want to ask her, but I’m suddenly weak. All my hope rode on Tobias being on that boat.

“Wait,” I call out, but Mrs. Darning doesn’t slow. I trip over a cracked brick. Shemaiah catches me just before my knees hit the ground.

“I thought Ruby was hiring a groundskeeper,” I grumble, irritated with the world.