The Highest of Hopes

by Susan Anne Mason

  Emma swallowed back a thousand protests, her mind swimming. Her mouth was so dry she feared she couldn’t speak.

  “It’s a fair offer.” Vera straightened a book on the coffee table. “Think about it and let us know. I’d be happy to help you make arrangements.”

  Emma squeezed her fingernails into her palms. She would not make any rash decisions, especially since she had no idea how her father felt about the whole matter. She looked from Vera to Harcourt, their animosity almost palpable in the room. With a curt nod, she rose. “I’ll have to get back to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Marianne is waiting for me.”

  Jonathan walked out of the police station onto the sidewalk, his mouth set in a grim line. Wainwright had agreed to drop the assault charge as long as Jonathan paid to replace his camera, which amounted to an outrageous sum that would cost him half his savings.

  Seeing the smug look on Wainwright’s face, it took all of Jonathan’s willpower not to punch him again.

  Fortunately, Jonathan had come prepared with his wallet and had begrudgingly paid off the miscreant. With the legalities settled, Jonathan was now free to leave the country. And at least Reggie would get his bail money back. A minor consolation, if that.

  Jonathan jammed on his hat and continued walking. With what was left of his funds, he planned to buy a train ticket to Halifax, where he hoped he could trade his open-ended return passage for the next available steamship.

  Thankfully, he’d left the second installment of his tuition with his aunt back home. She assured him she would deliver it to Oxford on the due date. That amount would cover his first term, and if he was extremely fortunate, he hoped he could find a job on campus where he could earn a little money on the side while he studied.

  All those details, however, would have to wait until he arrived home.

  In the meantime, perhaps he’d treat Reggie to dinner tonight as a final farewell before he left Toronto. He wished he could convince his friend to come to England and find his fortune there. Jonathan would miss his companionship, his words of advice, and, most of all, his offbeat sense of humor. Reggie could always get Jonathan to see the bright side of any situation.

  Except for this one.

  The sooner he left the shores of Canada behind him, the sooner he could put Emma out of his mind—and his heart—once and for all.

  Maybe then he’d stop feeling the tug of her presence constantly weighing on him.

  Maybe then he’d at last be able to face a future without her.

  CHAPTER 29

  Although Emma had considered Mr. Fenton’s request that she leave town, she refused to make any radical decisions before the rally, which was scheduled to take place at the end of the week. This big debate with Mayor Church would be a defining moment in her father’s campaign—a benchmark in gauging the city’s support for Randall in the next election. She prayed his soaring popularity had not suffered due to the incident at the hospital.

  Emma could not imagine missing the rally. She’d been looking forward to it since she first saw that flyer on the university campus. On her walk with Jonathan.

  Her footsteps faltered on the way up to the second floor of the law building. She grasped a newel-post to steady herself, feeling a tightening in her chest, which was now merely a hollow concave where her heart used to reside. Every now and then without warning, the grief snuck up on her, rendering her almost incapable of functioning. It took every bit of strength to face each day without him.

  Her heart ached at the recollection of Jonathan’s promise to go with her to the rally. The first promise he’d failed to keep. But no matter. She would go alone.

  After she accomplished one important thing first.

  Emma stared at her reflection in the office window, firming her resolve. It was time to face her father, and in an effort to avoid another unpleasant conversation with Vera or Mr. Fenton, she’d decided to seek Randall out at work. Hopefully, now that everything had settled down, he would be in a frame of mind to put the fundraiser behind them and look toward the future.

  Emma had dressed with great care for her first time returning to her old workplace. As she hovered in the outer hallway, however, she realized it was going to be harder than she’d imagined to face her former colleagues. Would there be a new girl at her desk or was the job still open?

  Nerves swirled in her stomach as Emma entered the room, smiling at everyone in the vicinity to mask the confidence she didn’t feel.

  Right away, Doris jumped up and rushed over to hug her. “Please tell me the professor has reconsidered and taken you back.”

  “No,” Emma said with a laugh as she nodded to the empty desk. “I guess that means he hasn’t hired anyone yet.”

  Doris shook her head and pushed her glasses higher on her nose. “He’s interviewed one or two candidates, but that’s it.” She took Emma by the arm. “I miss you so much. It’s far too dull here without you around.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Emma looked up to see Will coming forward, his hair tousled, his shirt-sleeves rolled up to the elbow. “Hello, Will. It’s good to see you.”

  “You too, Emma.” His easy smile reminded her a little too much of Jonathan.

  “How are things with you?” She’d almost said with Corinne, but thought the better of it. He likely didn’t want everyone to know of his feelings for his employer’s daughter.

  “Very well, thank you.” He gave her a serious look and lowered his voice so that people at the desks behind them couldn’t hear. “I understand I missed a lot of drama at the hospital fundraiser.”

  Emma raised a brow and glanced over at Doris. “I’m sure you both saw the papers the next day.”

  “Sure did.” Doris perched on the edge of her desk, swinging one leg in the aisle. “If I’d been there, I would have applauded your friend for decking Wainwright. Sad that I missed it.”

  “Don’t be. It was a disaster. I never dreamt Jonathan would do such a thing.”

  “That’s all in the past now,” Doris said briskly. “Maybe, if we’re lucky Wainwright will be too mortified to show up at the debate tomorrow.”

  “Don’t count on it.” Will shoved a pencil behind his ear. “Knowing him, he’s bragging to anyone who’ll listen about the fight. He’ll be there. I’d bet a week’s wages on it.”

  “Speaking of the debate . . .” Emma darted a glance at Randall’s door. “I wanted to see my . . . uncle. Is he in?”

  “Afraid not.” Doris angled her head. “Won’t be back until later today from what I understand.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad.” Yet Emma’s muscles suddenly relaxed. She’d been prepared for a tense conversation, which would now have to wait. Maybe she’d go to his house this evening after all. Or maybe she’d just show up at the rally and take matters from there. “I guess I came by for nothing then.”

  Doris shot up from the desk. “Not necessarily. I was just about to go on my lunch break. Care to join me at the diner across the street?”

  Emma paused to consider. If nothing else, she could use another friend, and she’d always enjoyed Doris’s company. “Why not? I’d hate to waste this outfit.” She smiled. “What about you, Will? Can you join us?”

  He grinned but shook his head. “You two ladies enjoy yourselves. I’ll hold down the fort here.”

  “You’re a true gentleman, Will Munroe.” Doris laughed as she pulled her purse from her desk drawer. “Be sure to watch out for any pesky reporters.”

  Ten minutes later, Emma sat in the booth across from Doris and sipped a glass of water while they waited for their food to arrive. The small restaurant vibrated with energy. Waitresses hustled back and forth with trays of food and drinks. A row of patrons seated along the counter laughed and chatted.

  “Thank you, Doris. This is just what I needed. A distraction from my worries.” The smell of grilled hamburgers and apple pie made Emma realize she’d had nothing for breakfast other than coffee, and now her stomach rumbled loudly.

  Do
ris gave her a sympathetic look. “What’s troubling you, honey? Is money an issue? Because I can help you look for another job, if you want.”

  A waitress appeared with their sandwiches and set the plates down.

  Emma sighed. “I’m not even sure what type of work I’m suited for. I’m certainly not cut out to be a typist.”

  “It helps if you like what you’re doing.” Doris grinned as she picked up her ham sandwich. “What did you do back in England?”

  A sudden rush of homesickness seized Emma, and she released a wistful breath as the memory of her old wooden desk in the corner of Grandad’s shop surfaced. Her lips curved softly. “I did bookkeeping for my grandfather’s watch business. I’ve always loved working with figures. Grandad said I had a talent for it.”

  “That’s perfect.” Doris reached for a napkin. “There must be lots of that type of work in a city this large.”

  Emma’s mood brightened at the thought. “The professor did suggest I take a few accounting classes, which he thought might be beneficial. Perhaps I’ll look into that.”

  She’d initially dismissed the idea, but the more she thought about it, the better the idea seemed. She had more than enough savings from the sale of the watch shop to tide her over while she took whatever courses might be required. That way, no matter what happened with her father, she’d have a decent job and the means to remain independent without draining her savings.

  Doris lifted her glass of soda. “What will Jonathan think of your new career?”

  “He won’t care. He’s heading back to England any day now.” She winced at the bitterness in her tone and set down her sandwich with a sigh. “That’s not true. He’d be thrilled if I found a job that made me happy.”

  Jonathan had always been her biggest champion, always wanting what was best for her. Without him now, her world echoed with a new emptiness.

  “I’m sorry he’s leaving. According to Will, Jonathan is a hard worker and a gentleman. Too bad I’m off the market.” She flashed her engagement ring and winked. “But I do have two sisters.”

  Emma couldn’t bring herself to join in Doris’s banter. She pushed her half-eaten sandwich aside, sudden anxiety ruining her appetite.

  “Hey, I was only teasing. Judging by the way Jonathan went after Wainwright on your behalf, I’d say his heart is already spoken for.” Doris wiped her fingers on her napkin. “Which begs the obvious question: Why is he going back to England without you?”

  Emma stared out at the restaurant patrons, avoiding Doris’s intense gaze. She’d love nothing more than to explain the whole thorny issue to her friend. However, with Doris working in Randall’s office, she didn’t think it fair to get into all the details about her and Jonathan’s disagreement over her father. It would put Doris in an uncomfortable position.

  “I’m afraid the answer to that,” Emma said at last, “is complicated.” Oh, how she wished it wasn’t. That her relationship with Jonathan could have remained the same as when they were young. That their feelings hadn’t changed. Instead, what she feared would happen had come to pass. She’d literally lost her best friend.

  “Men are always complicated, my dear. That’s what makes them so fascinating.” Doris glanced out the window. “Speaking of complicated, there goes the professor now. Maybe you’ll get to speak to him after all.”

  Randall removed his hat and jacket and placed them on the coatrack. He needed to get in touch with Emma before tomorrow’s debate, yet he dreaded that conversation with every fiber of his being. For he knew no matter how he framed his request, it would hurt his daughter’s feelings.

  Emma had worked so hard to help with the hospital benefit in order to improve his image. And for the most part, she’d succeeded. Except for that crazy incident with the reporter at the end of the day, everything had gone without a hitch. Unfortunately, all anyone remembered after that ugly front-page pictorial was the brawl—with Emma right in the middle.

  A fact Vera and Harcourt delighted in reminding him.

  A knock sounded on his door. What now?

  “Come in.”

  Emma’s head poked inside. “Hello, Randall. Could I speak with you, if you have a minute?”

  The hesitant look on her face made his chest ache. They’d been making such headway in their relationship.

  “Of course. I’m glad you’re here, Emmaline. Please sit down.”

  She smiled, a measure of relief easing the tension on her lovely face. In a cheery red hat and dress, she lit up the room. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner,” she said. “I’ll admit I was hiding out after the embarrassing fiasco and that dreadful article in the newspaper.”

  “Let’s hope that’s all behind us now.” He leaned back in his chair and attempted to keep his expression light. “Vera has been after me to speak to you.”

  Right away, Emma’s smile faded.

  “I take it you have some idea about her concerns.”

  She nodded. “She’s already talked to me. She and Mr. Fenton.” Emma’s lips pinched together.

  Randall held in a sigh. There was no easy way to come out with this. “Then what I’m about to say won’t come as a surprise.” He tried to soften his features as he met her wary gaze. “I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if you stayed away from the rally tomorrow.” He paused. Best to get it all out at once. “Not just the rally actually. From the family too.”

  She shrank back, her frame crumpling as though the air had leaked out of her.

  “This is just a temporary measure,” he continued quickly, hoping to lessen the damage of that statement, “until we can figure out a way to deal with Wainwright. He’s always been a bother, but for some reason you seem to have sparked a new obsession in him.”

  “I don’t know why. I’ve never done anything to warrant such interest.”

  “A beautiful woman like you doesn’t have to do anything, Emma. You attract notice whether you want to or not. Unfortunately, sometimes the attention is negative.” He smiled. “But don’t worry. I have some of my campaign staff working on a solution.”

  “I see.” She stared at her lap, misery darkening her features.

  “So,” he said gently, “can you do me that favor and stay away for a while?”

  Her head snapped up, an unusual flare of heat flashing in her eyes. “Exactly how long is a while? A week? A month?”

  He straightened in his chair. “Naturally, I hope it won’t take that long. Why does the amount of time matter?”

  Emma pressed her lips together. She seemed to be weighing how to answer his question. Finally, she said, “I thought by now, after everything I’ve done for you, that you’d have . . . you’d have told everyone who I really am.”

  When her sorrowful gaze met his, his gut twisted. How he wished it were that simple. “I realize it’s a frustrating situation. With a political career, you have to weigh every move before you make it. Can I ask you to be patient a while longer?”

  She let out a long breath. “I guess I don’t have much choice.”

  “Thank you.” Relief flooded his chest. “Once this rally is over . . .” He paused, not willing to make false promises.

  She shook her head. “Once this is over, there’ll be another event or another speech. It won’t end until the election is over.”

  He’d never heard her sound so defeated. Though he wished he could reassure her, he couldn’t dispute her claim. “As soon as we get this Wainwright character contained, we’ll revisit our options.” A lame attempt to appease her, but he couldn’t leave it like this. “Why don’t you and Jonathan do something together tomorrow night instead? Maybe go out for a nice dinner? My treat.”

  She looked at him, her eyes dull. “Jonathan isn’t . . .” She took a breath. “He’s gone to stay with a friend for a while.” She grasped her handbag and stood. “Good luck with the debate.”

  Randall rose as well, regret clawing at him. “Emma, I’m sorry. Really I am.”

  She shook her head agai
n, her dark curls swinging about her shoulders. “If you were truly sorry, you’d do something to fix this.” Then, with a sharp inhale, she squared her shoulders. “You know where to find me, should the need arise. Good-bye, Randall.”

  When the door shut behind her, the breath left his lungs with a whoosh. He longed to chase after her, to tell the whole world she was his daughter, but he couldn’t risk destroying his career for good. He’d worked far too hard to throw it all away now.

  He only hoped that one day Emma could understand his reasons and forgive him.

  CHAPTER 30

  The next day, Emma threw herself into helping Mrs. C. around the boardinghouse with uncommon vigor. Anything to burn off the sting of her growing anger. The more she thought about the conversation with her father yesterday, the angrier she became. Like a slow burn, her defeat turned to annoyance, which had then begun to smolder, and by the morning, she’d worked herself up to a fine blaze of temper.

  Randall had some nerve, demanding that she sever ties with him and his family for the foreseeable future. She’d had to disappoint Marianne already today by cancelling their therapy time together.

  “Is everything all right, dear?” Mrs. C. asked from the door of the dining room, where Emma had taken to scrubbing the walls. “I didn’t expect you to do such a . . . thorough cleaning.”

  Emma swiped her arm across her forehead, dislodging a curl from beneath her kerchief. “I’m just trying to keep busy. Working off some frustration.”

  Mrs. C. came farther into the room, a dustcloth in hand. “Would you like to talk about whatever’s bothering you? I’m a good listener.”

  Her landlady’s sympathetic expression made Emma want to heap all her troubles on those petite shoulders. But until Emma had sorted through her own feelings, she wouldn’t do that to the kind woman. “Thank you, Mrs. C., but I can’t talk about it. Not yet.” Emma rinsed her rag in the bucket of water and wrung out the cloth.