“In part.” He shrugged, his brow tense. “When the opportunity arose for a fresh start in Canada, I jumped at the chance to put some distance between me and my past, thinking I’d finally be free of the guilt and pain.”
“And were you?”
He fingered the cuff of his sleeve. “To some degree, yes. I threw myself into my work here at the university. Then I met Vera, and for the first time since your mother’s death, I felt whole again.”
Emma tried to ignore the pinch of pain around her heart. That he could so easily leave her behind and start a new family. If he truly loved her, shouldn’t he have fought harder to be part of her life?
“Once you were old enough, I started writing to you, but when you didn’t answer, I assumed you wanted nothing to do with me.”
“I never knew,” she whispered. “Not until I found your letters.”
A minute of silence lapsed between them.
Then finally Randall said, “If it’s any consolation, your grandparents must have believed you’d be better off thinking I was dead. That way, you’d never pine for me. Never wonder why your father didn’t come to visit. In a sense, it was the kinder option.”
Emma stared at the man for several seconds. “It’s nice of you to defend them. However, I think fear was the greater motivation. They knew I’d want to look for you if I found out you were alive. Which meant I would leave them.”
Randall moved from the fireplace and came to sit across from her. “Reliving the past won’t get us anywhere. What I’d like to know is how you wish to proceed from here.”
Emma twisted her hands together on her lap. She tried not to dwell on the fact that he showed almost no emotion. That he seemed to be treating this conversation as more of a business deal than anything personal. “I hoped we could get to know one another—as father and daughter. After all, you’re the only family I have left.” She met his gaze, holding her breath and praying not to be rejected again.
His steady look gave nothing away. “I’d like that as well,” he said at last.
Emma’s shoulders sagged with relief. He did want to include her in his life. Knowing that made everything she’d sacrificed to come here worthwhile.
“There are, however,” he continued, “a few obstacles we must consider. First, my wife and daughters may take some time to accept you. It’s not entirely their fault, since I should have told them about you long ago.”
“Yes, you should have.” Emma bit her lip. “Sorry. Go on.”
“Second, there’s the matter of my political career. Revealing your existence at this crucial time would only create undue problems—for me and for all the people who are helping me get elected.”
Emma swallowed. “So you want to keep me a secret.” Why did that hurt almost as much as an outright rejection?
“For now, yes. I thought we could use your idea and introduce you as my niece who’s visiting for the summer.”
“But doesn’t everyone know you have no siblings?”
Randall’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”
She froze. Perhaps she could lie and say she’d looked up his records back home, but she wasn’t very good at lying. She released a slow breath. “I went to see your mother.”
Randall shot off his chair. “How do you know her?”
He acted like she’d committed some sort of crime. It was only natural she’d be curious about her grandmother.
“In that same box of letters, I found one from your mother, begging Gran to let her see me. I assume Gran refused.”
Randall closed his eyes. When he opened them, deep grooves were etched around his mouth.
“Before I left,” she continued, “I went to the address on the letter and found out she still lived there.”
Randall grasped the back of an armchair. “She’s alive?”
Emma licked her dry lips, not prepared for this conversation so soon. She thought she’d have time to work up to it once she got to know her father better.
“She was at the time,” she said carefully. “However, the woman who was caring for her said she didn’t have much longer to live.” Emma paused, unsure how he would take the next part. “I got word of her passing just before we left England. I’m only glad I got to meet her before it was too late.”
Randall’s shoulders sagged, and an almost blank expression settled on his face. “No one informed me, but then I guess that was to be expected.”
“She told me you two had a falling-out and hadn’t spoken in years.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Red blotches appeared on his cheeks.
“When she learned I intended to come to Canada to find you, she asked me to tell you she’s sorry and that she forgives you.” There, she’d done her duty and delivered Grandmother Moore’s final message.
But instead of the relief she expected at this olive branch after so many years, Randall’s mouth tightened into a grim line and his eyes darted around the room like a cornered animal seeking an escape. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” He crossed to the parlor doors and pulled them open.
“Wait.” Emma rushed after him. “Doesn’t her apology mean anything to you?”
Anger leapt in the blueness of his eyes. “Our estrangement was my mother’s choice. She was the one who disowned me. It’s a little late to grant me absolution now.” He rammed his hat on his head. “We’ll talk again soon. In the meantime, remember you’re my niece. If anyone starts asking too many questions, just avoid answering them.”
With that, he strode out of the house and down the walkway, leaving Emma more bewildered than ever about her mystifying father.
And no further ahead as to where she stood with him.
CHAPTER 8
Jonathan got out of the taxi, paid the driver, and stared at the small house before him. A modest abode, to be sure. And a far cry from the opulence of Randall Moore’s mansion. According to Reggie, his parents had lived here for many years. His father had made a living as a butcher, peddling his goods in a place called Kensington Market. Reggie had promised to take him there if Jonathan ever came to visit.
Now, he paused on the sidewalk, praying for the right words to say to his friend. Praying that here, without the unifying factor of the war, their friendship would still be strong. Even though he and Reggie had served in different regiments, their similar experiences had drawn them together. And during the weeks of their recovery, the two had shared their hopes and dreams for the future.
Jonathan had told Reggie things he’d never told anyone. His guilt over not being able to save Danny. His phobia that stemmed from being the only survivor of the fire that had killed his family. And maybe most importantly, Jonathan had told Reggie of his true feelings for Emma.
The front screen door swung open and a man emerged, swinging a crutch out in front of him. Jonathan forced back a grimace at the flapping pant leg on Reggie’s right side. Somehow, when he’d been in a hospital bed, it had been easy to ignore the lack of a limb, but now faced with the stark evidence, Jonathan could no longer hide from reality.
“Don’t just stand there. Get up here and save me having to navigate the stairs.” Reggie’s booming voice brimmed with enthusiasm and laughter.
How could he joke about his handicap like that?
Jonathan jogged up the walkway and onto the porch. “Reggie, mate. It’s great to see you again.”
Reggie didn’t answer but simply dropped a crutch and grabbed Jonathan in a one-armed hug.
Jonathan swallowed back the rise of emotion at the simple show of affection. When he moved back, Reggie’s hazel eyes appeared as damp as Jonathan’s.
“Look at you. You’re practically a Romeo with all those waves.” Reggie swiped a hand over Jonathan’s head to muss his carefully combed hair.
Jonathan laughed, the tightness in his chest loosening. “And I see you’ve chosen to keep your army haircut.”
“Old habits die hard.” Reggie grinned and dragged his free hand over the short locks. “Besides, th
e ladies love the military look.”
Jonathan shook his head, still laughing.
“Come and have a seat. Mom left us some lemonade before she went out.” Reggie moved along the covered porch to two sturdy-looking wooden chairs. A pitcher of lemonade, two glasses, and a plate of cookies sat on the table between them.
“How are you getting on?” Jonathan asked as he took a seat beside his friend. “Is it any easier being back home?”
“A bit better. Still a little suffocating at times.” He pointed to his missing leg. “Mom tends to hover and try to do everything for me, whereas Dad just tries to ignore it. I’ll get my own place one day soon, but for now, this is best. For everyone.” A shadow passed over his face, but he quickly smiled. “How about you? What brings you to this side of the world?”
Jonathan shrugged. “Emmaline. She came to meet her father. I couldn’t let her travel all that way alone.”
Reggie turned to pin Jonathan with a frank stare. “Have you finally told her how you feel about her?”
Tension snapped in Jonathan’s neck. “No.”
A beat of silence followed.
“What’s holding you back, Jon? You said that was the first thing you were going to do when you got home.”
Jonathan pressed his lips together. “It didn’t go quite as planned.”
“In other words, you chickened out.” Reggie lifted the pitcher and poured them each a glass of lemonade.
Jonathan winced. He’d forgotten how blunt his Canadian friend could be. “I didn’t think it appropriate since she was considering a marriage proposal from some rich bloke.”
“Oh no. That’s rough.” He set the pitcher down with a thump. “Why didn’t her fiancé come with her to Canada, then?”
Jonathan sipped the lemonade. The tartness burned the back of his throat. “Emma ended their relationship right before she left. I didn’t really understand why at the time, but I do now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Emma has no intention of returning to England. Never did. She admitted it only yesterday.” His gut twisted. Would he ever get over the hurt of that revelation?
“You mean she let you come with her and then dropped that tidbit once you were here? That’s pretty low.”
It was a trifle selfish, Jonathan had to admit. But Emma never was one for thinking anything through. Had she hoped he’d stay in Canada with her? She hadn’t known about his acceptance to Oxford when they’d embarked on this adventure. Maybe she thought she could convince him to stay too.
“So now what?” Reggie drained his lemonade in one long gulp.
Jonathan heaved a sigh. “I have no idea.” He patted his jacket pocket. “Right before I left, I received my acceptance to Oxford. I have to be back by early August.”
“That’s great news.” Reggie’s smile dimmed. “But it only gives you about six weeks before you have to leave.” He studied Jonathan. “If I know you, you won’t give up. You’ll stay until the bitter end, in case she changes her mind.”
“I have no choice. As long as there’s a shred of hope, I have to try.” A breeze ruffled Jonathan’s hair. Reggie’s porch was indeed a pleasant place to sit. You could see all the activity in the neighborhood from here.
Reggie stared out across the street. “I suppose I’d do the same. If I had any hope at all.”
The bitterness in Reggie’s voice snapped Jonathan out of his own melancholy. “What do you mean? I thought Elsie was waiting with bated breath for your return.”
Jonathan had actually been jealous of Reggie. The love that flowed from the letters his fiancée had sent, at least the snippets Reggie had read aloud to Jonathan, had made him burn with envy, wishing for such words of devotion from Emma.
Emma’s letters had been wonderful, regaling him with the happenings in their town and stories of her grandad and Aunt Trudy. And of course, she said she missed him. But not like Elsie had missed Reg.
“She decided she couldn’t marry a man with one leg.” Reggie pressed his lips together. “Can’t say I really blame her.”
“Are you joking?” Jonathan jerked up from his chair. “What kind of woman abandons the man she loves when he’s injured?” He banged a fist on the railing, outrage for his friend evoking an almost violent reaction within him. How could she be so fickle? Either you loved someone or you didn’t.
He drew in a shuddering breath, recalling his stunned reaction when he’d arrived home to Emma’s announcement that she was considering marriage to a man named Lord Terrence. Danny had barely been gone a year and she’d already taken up with someone new. Were all women so disloyal? Jonathan clutched the wooden rail until his forearms burned.
“Hey, no need to dismantle the porch.” Reggie’s voice held a trace of humor. “I appreciate your anger on my behalf, but I’ve made my peace with the whole situation.”
Jonathan turned to stare at him. “You just gave up?”
“You can’t force someone to feel something they don’t.” He shrugged. “Turns out Elsie wasn’t the right girl for me after all. I have to believe God has someone else in mind. Someone who’s better suited.” He gave a lopsided grin. “One who can put up with my quirky sense of humor. I realized soon after I returned that Elsie’s really lacking in that department. And I couldn’t spend my life with a woman who wasn’t able to appreciate the lighter side of life.”
Jonathan’s lips twitched. “You always said: ‘If you can’t laugh at what life hurls at you, you might as well quit.’ Your humor was one of the things I truly admired about you those first days in the infirmary.”
Reggie laughed. “Face it, Rowe, I saved your sanity in that place.”
“You did indeed, my friend.” He smiled sadly. “So, what are you going to do now?”
Reggie’s countenance brightened. “I’m taking a few summer courses at the university. And come the fall, I’ll be enrolled full-time.”
“That’s wonderful news. I know you were hoping for that.”
“Even better, the army’s going to cover my tuition.”
“Smashing.”
Reggie laughed out loud. “I’ve missed those crazy British sayings of yours. Hey, while you’re here, why don’t you sit in on a few classes with me?”
“Is that allowed?”
“Sure. Besides, no one’s going to question a war veteran with one leg. And who knows, you might meet a girl. If that doesn’t make Emma take notice, nothing will.”
Jonathan shook his head. “You’re incorrigible. But I might take you up on the classes. It would be interesting to hear lectures for comparison to Oxford when I go home. What courses are you taking?”
“History and English Literature.”
“Not as exciting as science, but I’ll try to stay awake.”
Jonathan grinned as Reggie bellowed out his signature laugh.
One thing was certain, he’d made the right decision in coming here today. Though Reggie had every right to be depressed, his friend’s optimistic nature had fueled Jonathan’s own sense of hope for the future.
If Reggie could accept the loss of his leg and of Elsie and still trust his future to God, how could Jonathan do any less?
Later that afternoon, Jonathan’s good mood vanished when Mrs. C. told him Emma had left without saying where she was headed and that she’d been gone for hours. The fact that Emma hadn’t mentioned anything when Jonathan had seen her for a brief moment after breakfast made his head pound.
She must still be annoyed with him for the way he’d reacted to her news that she intended to stay in Canada. In truth, he had behaved badly. He’d been avoiding Emma, nursing his wounded pride. Waiting for her to come and apologize for deceiving him, for allowing him to travel halfway across the world under false pretenses.
Now, she was off heaven knew where by herself. Was it even safe for a young woman to walk alone in this city?
He paced the walkway in front of the boardinghouse, his anxiety mounting with each moment that passed. At least he was fairly c
ertain she’d gone to see Randall Moore, and if so, she’d be safe there. When Mrs. C. informed him that the professor had paid Emma a visit, Jonathan didn’t know how to feel. Happy for Emma or upset that she hadn’t told him about it?
Was she already distancing herself from him, knowing he would soon return to England without her?
His chest constricted at the mere thought of never seeing her again. Never hearing her lilting laugh or feeling the warmth of her hug.
One thing had become very clear to him after his talk with Reggie. He needed to forget about his pride and put all his energy into wooing Emma. He couldn’t give up without a fight. Not until he was on the ship headed back to England alone.
Now, if only she’d come back from wherever she went, they could clear the air between them.
The sound of an approaching vehicle pulled Jonathan from his tortured thoughts. A taxicab stopped at the curb in front of the boardinghouse and Emma alighted, several bags in hand.
Instant relief flooded his chest.
When she looked up and saw him, her entire face brightened. “Jonathan! You’ll never guess what’s happened.”
His tense muscles relaxed. Trust Emma to completely overlook their disagreement. But right now he didn’t care. He was too happy just to see her.
“Something good, I take it.” He came down the walkway to meet her.
“Something wonderful.” She flung herself into his arms, bags and all, and hugged him.
For a moment, Jonathan went still and simply breathed in the floral scent of her favorite perfume. How he wished he could hold her like that forever.
Too soon, she pulled back and laughed. “You are looking at Professor Moore’s new personal secretary. I start tomorrow.”
“What? How did that happen?”
“Let’s go for a walk, and I’ll tell you all about it.” She set her bags on the porch, then returned to hook her arm though his, a smile creasing her face.
At that moment, she could have led him off the cliffs of Dover and he’d have cheerfully followed. “How did you talk your way into this one?”
The Highest of Hopes Page 7