Five Sisters (A Romantic Suspense Novel)

by Leen Elle

  "If the situation arises, we'd be glad to come," assured Carl, "I have no doubt it will be a truly joyous occasion."

  Dick nodded, "And I'd really like to meet this Lindsey fellow. I've heard so much about him that I feel as if we're already personally acquainted!"

  Further down the table, sitting rather quietly, was Sara. She stared down into her soup with a placid expression and would look, every so often, over to Charlie, who sat opposite Mary at the head of the table.

  Layered over his red plaid shirt, he wore an old navy sweater. The same navy sweater that Sara had mended several weeks before, sewing a patch over the hole in the sleeve. Although the sweater didn't match his shirt and it was rather oversized and ugly, Sara found the sight rather endearing. It reminded her of old times, when she and Charlie didn't feel awkward around one another and she'd never received his letter, which now sat folded beneath her pillow.

  He, too, was gazing down silently as his plate, pushing around the peas with his fork. His rumpled hair fell down lazily into his eyes, shielding them from Sara's view, and he was in dreadful need of a haircut, she thought.

  But she loved him, nonetheless. Despite his gray hair and his tattered clothing, despite his financial situation and his age and the thoughts of her late father, she loved Charlie Wilkie. And she always would.

  After receiving that letter from him, all her dreams had been dashed, her hopes disappeared within instants. It seemed impossible that he'd ever change his mind. And now, as their voyage was drawing to a close, she felt as though she might never see him again after tomorrow. The thought brought tears to her eyes.

  "Sara? Sara, are you alright?"

  Emy's voice made Sara jump. She quickly nodded, giving a frazzled smile, "Of course. I'm just . . . I just . . . My eyes are a little watery, is all. Nothing to be worried over."

  Emy nodded and whispered, "Of course," though she sounded doubtful.

  Lowering her head once more, Sara slowly buttered her roll as she felt more tears fill her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but it was to no avail. Beneath her breath, she murmured something about terrible allergies and dried her cheeks with her napkin, but Emy continued to glance at her with worry and she was catching the attention of one or two of the sailors as well. Embarrassed, she kept her head down and wrung her fingers, taking a deep breath. But when she finally raised her head, she instantly wished that she hadn't.

  Charlie sat as still as a statue, staring at her, his eyes brimming in both concern and fondness. Although they sat separated by nearly a dozen noisy sailors and several young girls, the room suddenly seem to go quiet. Charlie gulped. Sara bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears once more. She wanted to look away and dry her eyes, but she couldn't. She sat paralyzed by his stare.

  Charlie blinked twice and tilted his head slightly, as if to ask Sara if she were alright. If he'd tried to say it in words, shouting over the sailors' racket, he would have certainly choked on his tongue so this was his only resort.

  Sara wanted to nod, to assure him that she was perfectly fine, but she couldn't. Instead, she quickly dropped her head once more and wiped her tears on her sleeve.

  For the rest of the night, they'd avoid each other's gaze. It was simply too much for poor Sara to bear.

  Seated near the center of the table, with Sawyer at her side, Nora was speechless as well but for a completely different reason altogether.

  Ever since that last discussion with Mary and Emy, where the true intentions of both Ben and Sawyer were finally made apparent to naïve Nora, her entire view on the sailors and love and silly crushes had changed dramatically. She felt like a fool and was disgusted with herself every time she thought of the days she used to spend lusting after Ben.

  "Would you like any more tea, Nora?" said Sawyer, pushing his glasses up further on his nose, "I'd be happy to get you some."

  "Oh no, I'm fine. And you needn't go to all that trouble."

  "It's really no trouble at all," Sawyer assured, climbing over his chair awkwardly, "I was just about to get myself some more tea anyway."

  "But your glass is nearly full."

  "Er . . . ," Sawyer scratched his head, "Well, you can never have too much tea, can you?"

  "You really oughtn't . . ."

  "I insist . . ."

  "But Sawyer . . ."

  "It's no trouble at all. Really."

  Just after he'd left the table, Nora's glass at hand, Mary entered the room laden with a tray of cookies for dessert. She set the dish in the center of the table, warned the sailors not to be too hasty, and backed away just as all the boys dived for the cookies like a pack of wild dogs.

  As they calmed down and munched on their treats like happy children, Nora leaned forward to see what was left.

  "Any chocolate chip?"

  Rory shook his head, "No, only peanut butter and oatmeal. Sorry, Nora."

  "It's alright," she sighed, "They're only cookies."

  Just then, she felt a tap upon her shoulder. And from behind emerged a hand carrying two chocolate chip cookies. Nora beamed, her eyes lighting up with joy.

  Sawyer smiled, "For you, Miss Leonora."

  "But how did you get them? You weren't even here!"

  "I stopped Mary on her way in," Sawyer explained, "And since I knew that your favorite is chocolate chip and that by the time you reached for one, they'd probably all be sitting in the sailors' stomachs, I thought I'd grab you some beforehand."

  Taking the two cookies, Nora pursed her lips together as she watched Sawyer, sitting down beside her. He reached for an oatmeal cookie though Nora knew he preferred chocolate chip as well. As Mary had said, Sawyer would do almost anything for her. The fact had only become more apparent in these last few days, as every favor Sawyer did was etched in Nora's mind. She'd never realized how much she'd miss him until just now. It seemed impossible that she'd ever find a man that cared for her as much as Sawyer did.

  "Sawyer?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Thank you for the cookies."

  He smiled, "You're very welcome."

  Nora bit into her cookie, "And Sawyer?"

  "Yes?"

  "Could we have another checkers tournament tonight?" Her heart dropped, "For the last time?"

  "Of course, Nora. Whatever you wish."

  With a sparkle in her eye, Emy watched her sister and Sawyer but she couldn't help forget them as soon as a certain Mr. Lindsey entered her mind.

  In less than twenty-four hours, she'd be seeing Brook again. Brook, who she'd been dreaming of the entire voyage. Brook, the cause of her many sleepless nights and the owner of her heart. He'd held it for so long that Emy only hoped that someday, hopefully very soon, she'd hold his heart as well.

  In the past, she'd always been invisible in his eyes. Her quiet demeanor and lack of confidence caused her to fade into the background while her sisters took the spotlight.

  Emy recalled the first day they'd met, a sunny afternoon long ago. Ethan had invited Mary, as well as all her sisters, to a picnic where they were joined by several other young people, one of those being his cousin Brook.

  While Ethan spoke and entertained his other guests, Mary spoke gaily with Brook, introducing him to Sara and trying her best to play matchmaker. He was showing her his sketchbook when Emy came to join them. She remembered all the beautiful images he'd portrayed upon the paper, landscapes and portraits and ever so much more.

  Later in the day, when Emy had been playing a game of jacks with Nora, they spotted Brook drawing them. Emy, always modest and bashful, had blushed and refused to let him draw her, claiming that it embarrassed her to have him watching her so intently. Like the kind man he was, Brook respected her feelings and promised he wouldn't do it again if she didn't wish it. It was then that he'd turned his attentions to Sara, who sat reading dreamily beneath a tree, and began to draw her instead. Emy always wondered if perhaps she shouldn't have turned him away just then. Perhaps she should have welcomed his wandering eyes and let him draw her as he wished
.

  Despite Sara's refusals, Brook had always taken a liking to drawing her as she sat engaged with a book. In their many meetings after that first afternoon, he'd filled many pages in his sketchbook with images of her. And although he'd claimed to Ethan that he'd never felt anything but friendship towards Sara, and that he did not wish to pursue a romance with her, Emy could never truly believe it. Once Charlie and Sara were separated and Brook was reunited with Sara again, Emy had this terrible feeling that Charlie would be forgotten and Brook and Sara would soon be married. She dreaded the day.

  Although Emy doubted whether Brook ever thought of her, she liked to think that he did. And, tucked beneath her mattress, sat a stack of parchment paper with the name Brook Lindsey scrawled in each corner. He drew so often that spare pictures weren't hard to come by and sometimes he used to give them to Emy and her sisters. As she'd gaze upon each image, Emy liked to imagine that he'd drawn each one especially for her.

  She couldn't wait to see Brook again, with his straight, coal black hair, his milky white skin, and those lanky limbs that always seemed a bit too long for his body. Both excited and apprehensive for the moment, she yearned to see his face and yet she dreaded the idea that she might make a fool of herself in front of him. But it was a risk she was willing to take, Emy decided.

  Finally, seated just across from Emy, was Gail, looking far more pitiful than she ever had before.

  Ever since Nathaniel had left two days before, disappearing into that carriage surrounded by the hospital aides and the doctors and the rain, Gail couldn't stop thinking about him. Of course, that wasn't a rare occurrence. Even when he'd been on board, Gail's thoughts always seemed to be occupied with Nathaniel.

  But at least when he was on the ship, so near to her, she always knew how he was feeling.

  Now that he was far, far away, she always wondered what had become of him. How was she to know if he were getting any better? How was she to know if he needed her? How was she to know if he'd already passed away? Perhaps he was dead already and she just didn't know it.

  Gail was heartbroken and spent her days sulking about the ship, missing Nathaniel terribly. In all likelihood, she may never see him again. The thought tore her heart to shreds.

  If only he weren't quite so ill. If only he could have held on a little bit longer and Gail could have convinced Charlie to bring Nathaniel to a hospital in Brighton instead. If only she were by his side at this very moment, where she was meant to be.

  The one thing Gail knew, above all else, was that until she had heard from Nathaniel again and been assured of his good health, her mind would never rest.

  CHAPTER 26

  Goodbyes

  After spending the entirety of the morning packing their clothing and other possessions into chests and suitcases, the St. James sisters were now preparing to say their last goodbyes to the sailors, an occasion that all five most heartily regretted. It seemed they'd only just boarded the ship and now they must say goodbye.

  The day was a beautiful one. Seagulls flew around the pier, their laughter joining the fishermen's talk and the ocean's waves. And in the distance, beyond the wooden docks and maze of boats that made up Brighton's marina, one could see little cottages and shops scattered upon the hills. Overhead, the sun shined merrily, casting shadows of orange and pink upon the sky until it met the horizon line. Beneath that, the dark sea spread onward and onward, disappearing into the distance.

  It was the last day of October, a chilly afternoon with cool winds blowing in from the ocean. They pushed against the ship's white sails, billowing them out into fluffy marshmallows.

  Aboard Violet, the sailors were busy cleaning up the deck. Before they departed and headed into town in search of amusement, Charlie insisted that they first scrub up the deck and say goodbye to the women, a task the men didn't refuse to. After spending nearly three months with the girls, they couldn't think of leaving them without an appropriate parting.

  While the sailors mopped the wooden floors and packed their garbage into boxes to be disposed of, four of the St. James sisters were gathered in their bedroom, folding their dresses and packing their trunks. Mary was sitting on the bed, tapping her foot and humming a tune as she set her needles, thimble, and thread into a sack. She could hardly sit still, so excited was she to finally see Ethan again. Sara and Gail were checking beneath the beds and pillows for any lost bonnets or hair ribbons. Both wore a mournful, silent gaze, saddened that they should never see their sailor or their invalid ever again. And Emy, her eyes lit up at the thought of seeing Brook, was packing away her last possessions with a careful eye and a sincere smile. Although she hated to part with the sailors and the ship, Brighton looked to provide a most promising future.

  The last sister, Nora, had left the bedroom several minutes before, without revealing where she was off to. The floorboards squeaking beneath her, she made her way across the hall and entered the sailor's bedroom, where she found Sawyer seated on the floor.

  As soon as he noticed her presence, he jumped to his feet, nearly losing his breath in the process, and said a quick hello, which Nora returned.

  "Are you all packed up and ready to go?" Sawyer asked.

  Nora nodded, "I suppose so."

  "And your sisters?"

  "They're still finishing up. But I . . . I think they may be stalling a bit. None of us are ready to leave just yet. Not me. Not Gail. Especially not Sara. I just . . . I wish we could stay a bit longer. I don't want to say goodbye."

  "Neither do I. Goodbyes are never very fun though, are they? Especially when you know you won't be seeing the person again for a long, long while," he paused, scratching his head, "But, er . . . Brighton looks like a fine place to live, Nora. I'm sure you'll all be happy here."

  She smiled, "I hope so."

  "And the er . . . the weather's real nice today. Sun's out and not a cloud in the sky."

  "Yes, Sawyer," Nora giggled, "Yes, the weather's very nice."

  "I-It was, er . . . I mean, I . . . I really enjoyed having you on board. And your sisters too. The other sailors felt the same way. Having someone to play checkers with, and cards, and, er . . ."

  "And laughing during mealtimes and plotting together to steal the heart of one devastatingly handsome man," Nora continued with a small grin, "And fishing although we both weren't very good at it . . . And just, just having a marvelous time."

  "E-Even though . . . Even though things with Ben didn't exactly worked out as you'd hoped? Because I feel awful that you were never able to spark his interest as you'd once planned. But we tried our best, I daresay, and that's nothing to be ashamed of." Sawyer smiled for a moment, but it soon vanished as he pushed his glasses up further on his nose, scratching his head, "But I, er . . . I'm sorry you weren't able to capture Ben's heart like you wanted to, Nora," he paused, biting his lip, "Because I know how much you wanted it. I know how much you wanted to win Ben's affections and I did my best to help, but it . . . But it wasn't enough. And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry I . . ."

  Nora couldn't take it anymore. He was so innocent and so kind and so completely wonderful to her. It had taken her three long months but she'd finally realized it. He wasn't "just Sawyer." He was amazing. To say she loved him at that moment seemed unreal to her, for her youth, she thought, prevented true love, but she was certain that she could come to truly love him in due time. If only they had such time.

  Without thinking upon it a moment, for such truly spontaneous and romantic moments don't come along very often in a lifetime, Nora rushed forward, threw her arms around Sawyer's neck, and pressed her lips against his own.

  Sawyer would always remember that kiss- the quickened beating of his heart, the feel of Nora's soft hair between his fingers, the way the whole world seemed to disappear around him. He'd never thought it possible, never thought a girl like Nora could find it in her heart to grow fond of him. And now, not only was she fond of him, but she was here, standing just before him, here in his arms.

  *****
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  By mid-afternoon the girls were ready to go. The sailors had lugged their trunks and suitcases up the rickety staircase for them, nearly every man was just begging to help. Then, they'd pushed them down the ramp and onto dry land, where they were waiting to be boarded onto the Lindsey's carriage, which could arrive at any minute.

  After that, the girls put on their dusty linen jackets and their wide-brimmed hats, each fit with a different colored ribbon, and stood together before the line of sailors aboard Violet's deck. Down the row they went, bidding goodbye to each man in turn.

  Emy walked first, her face solemn. To each sailor she personally thanked for their company and their aid and their joy and whatever else they had given her.

  "Thank you, Rory, for catching many delicious fish for us to eat and for always bringing a smile to my face when I was feeling down. I shall always miss your infectious laugh."

  "Thank you, Jess, for playing pretty tunes on the deck at night and for teaching me to play your fiddle. Goodbye and thank you kindly."

  "Thank you, Michael, for always helping out in the kitchen when you could spare the time and for fixing the loose screw in my bed frame. I am sorry to leave you, but leave I must."

  And so she went, giving each sailor her blessing and kissing them fondly upon the cheek. Her soft voice and tender words would be missed by all, for never had the sailors met a girl as truly kind and sweet as dear Emy. As she reached the end of the line and waved once more, the sailors stuck their hands in their pockets and shouted farewell.