Seeing him touch that patch of bare ground, fresh grief at her own losses struck her anew. Bare . . . blank . . . that was what she saw in her mind’s eye when she tried to imagine her parents’ graves on Jersey. Had they even been given a proper burial? A headstone? With her aunt and uncle sick and dying as well, had there been anyone to pay for a memorial? Or had her parents too ended up in an unmarked grave somewhere? She didn’t know. She longed to go to Jersey herself and see their final resting place, to be assured that everything had been done properly. It wouldn’t fill the gaping hole their absence left in her life, but it would be some comfort.
Glad for a few moments of solitude, Laura blinked away tears. As she walked through a neighboring field, she gathered a humble bouquet of feathery grasses, coneflowers, and harebells. Then she strolled slowly back to the church.
After Miss Callaway left him, Alexander lowered himself to his knees before the grave, hardly able to believe that his dear friend lay lifeless beneath dirt and sand and regrets. He leaned forward and pressed a hand into the soil as if he could reach Daniel. Comfort Daniel. Comfort himself.
I am so sorry, Daniel. Your poor wife! And poor little child, to be born into the world without a father.
Daniel would have been an excellent father. Gentle, patient, and so good with his hands. The family’s home would have always been in excellent repair, and there would have been a new toy every Christmas.
Alexander thought of the things Daniel had made during their time in Huntingdonshire—carved boxes and a model ship replicating the dear Victorine they had both served on and lost. And most precious of all, an intricate Noah’s ark with matched pairs of animals he had crafted for his child to come.
I am so sorry, my friend, Alex thought again. And he wondered how he might get word to Daniel’s widow.
If he managed to return home, he would go and see her and relay the news in person. But how likely was that to happen anytime soon? He had almost no money with which to buy passage on another ship. And even if he somehow made arrangements to get there, without the evidence he’d lost to the sea, what was the point? What good could he do Alan without it?
He rose and wiped his hands. Was there another reason he was reluctant to go home? A reason with beguiling brown eyes and dark red hair? No, he told himself. He had learned his lesson where women were concerned. He had already risked his heart—and his life—more than enough.
Then suddenly there she was. Without a word, she reappeared and handed him a simple bouquet of wildflowers. At the thoughtful gesture, his determination to remain aloof flagged.
“Thank you,” he murmured. He knelt and placed it on the grave, whispering, “Good-bye, Daniel.”
Then the two of them started back toward Fern Haven, Alexander leaning more heavily on the stick, though he tried to hide the strain.
She paused on the seaside path, ostensibly to take in the view, though he guessed she’d stopped to let him rest. Her gaze lingered on the glittering waters of the estuary. The sun lit her fair skin to golden, and strands of dark red hair escaped their pins and danced in the wind around her face. He forced himself to turn from her profile to the distant rocks and waves. Reminded of something, he recited,
“God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.”
He looked over at her and saw her eyebrows lift in surprise. He explained, “You read that to me once.”
“I am astonished you remember,” she said. “I doubted you heard me.”
“I heard you, even before I saw you.” He held her gaze, longing to reach out and hold her hand.
For a moment they stood looking at one another, but then a boat on the estuary rang its bell, dissolving the fragile moment.
They continued on their way.
“A rest, I think, when we return,” she said. “You’ve earned it.”
As they neared Fern Haven, they heard music coming from Brea Cottage. He and Laura stopped to listen, and Miss Chegwin noticed them and urged them inside.
“Jago is practicing his hurdy-gurdy for Allantide tomorrow.”
Alex felt nostalgic as he watched the young man turn the crank of the wheel