CHAPTER 32

Despite the rainy afternoon, the boardinghouse parlor glowed with soft lamplight, cocooning Emma in her spot on the sofa. She had the room to herself, as the rest of the boarders were busy with their day. Emma blinked in an attempt to refocus her tired eyes, and she laid her Bible on the table. She had been reading for several hours, and her back muscles protested her lack of movement, so she rose and stretched, then crossed to the front window. Outside a light rain continued to drizzle, streaking the pane with moisture. People walked by on the sidewalk, huddled under black umbrellas. Somehow the weather mirrored her mood—gray and damp, yet with a glimmer of light peeking through.

The memory of the rally still haunted Emma, and though she grieved the loss of her dream, many hours of prayer and reading her Bible had brought her a measure of peace. Not enough yet to fully forgive her father, but enough to let her know that, given time, she would be able to let go of the hurt and shame. In the meantime, Reverend Burke’s advice had been helpful. She’d immersed herself in God’s Word and allowed her faith to fill the hollow parts of herself, the messages of love and hope starting to be a balm to help heal her wounds.

Mrs. C. entered the parlor and with a loud huff sank onto her favorite chair.

At the window, Emma let the curtain fall back into place. “What’s wrong, Mrs. C.?”

“I was just talking with Grace on the phone.” Mrs. C. shook her head. “I feel so sorry for her. The young man she fancies is marrying someone else in a few weeks’ time.”

Emma frowned. “Andrew is getting married?” Grace had told Emma of her budding feelings for her nephew’s guardian, but Emma hadn’t given it much thought. Clearly, she should have paid more attention.

“Yes, and he’s taking that sweet baby away from her by moving all the way to Ottawa. So, on top of everything else, Grace will be left without a job.”

“That’s terrible.” For the first time, Emma’s problems seemed trivial compared to her friend losing her sister, the man she loved, and now her nephew. “Do you think she’ll go back to England?”

“I imagine she will. There won’t be much point staying here if she can’t be part of little Christian’s life.”

Emma swallowed a sudden rush of tears. The same thought had been circling in her brain for two days now, since Aunt Trudy’s letter and Emma’s talk with Reverend Burke. What reason did she have to stay in Canada? Her father certainly didn’t want her in his life. And though she loved Mrs. C., the boardinghouse wasn’t exactly a permanent residence.

“What about you, dear?” Mrs. C. asked gently. “Will you be heading back home as well?”

She blinked hard and swallowed. “I don’t have a home anymore, Mrs. C.” She resumed her seat on the sofa. “Maybe I made a mistake selling my grandfather’s shop so quickly. At the time, I was so angry at Grandad for not telling me the truth about my father. I think I acted out of spite.”

“A perfectly understandable response. You were hurt and grieving.”

“Jonathan and Aunt Trudy tried to talk me out of it, but I was so stubborn. I wouldn’t listen. I should have known my grandparents would never do anything to harm me.” Emma swiped at the moisture gathering in her eyes. Now that her anger had faded, she could see that her grandparents had given her a wonderful home. How could she have let her anger erase all they had done for her? “I think I understand why they kept the truth from me. They never wanted me to feel the burden of illegitimacy.”

Mrs. C. came to lay her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Your grandparents would understand why you did what you did. Besides, you couldn’t really have run the shop alone, could you? And now you have the funds to do whatever you like, either here or back home.”

Home. The word was a constant ache in Emma’s chest. “But I have no home or family anymore, Mrs. C. How do I start over?” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her lips together.

“I know how you feel.” The landlady smiled sadly and took a seat beside her. “As someone who’s had to find a new home far away from the land where I grew up, I learned that family is not always the people you’re born to. Sometimes they’re the people God places in your life. The ones who choose to love you.” She took Emma’s hand in hers, and warmth surrounded Emma’s fingers. “Home is somewhere safe, somewhere you can be yourself and know that there everything will be all right. But home is not just a physical place. It’s where your heart lives. It’s where the people you love live. For me, that was Mr. Chamberlain. The moment we met, I knew I’d found my home.”

“He must have been a wonderful man,” Emma whispered.

“Ah yes. My husband was a rare jewel among men.” She paused. “Much like your Jonathan.”

Emma inhaled sharply. Her muscles tightened as though trying to shield her from the truth and the heartache of Mrs. C.’s words.

“Emma, dear, I recognize love when I see it. And Jonathan was most definitely in love with you. What really happened to make him leave so abruptly?”

A painful spasm hit Emma’s midsection. She wrapped her arms around her waist as the memory surfaced of how dismissive she’d been of his feelings. “Jonathan asked me to marry him and go back to England,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what to do. My father was just beginning to . . .” She trailed off, realizing how lame that sounded now. Was she the only one who couldn’t see Randall’s true nature?

“So you chose your father over Jonathan?”

The quiet question held no recrimination and no judgment, yet a wave of shame shimmered inside her. “Yes.”

“And now that you know the truth, do you still feel the same? Do you still expect to find acceptance and love and a home with your father?”

“No.”

“Does your father make you feel loved and protected? Or is it really Jonathan who does that for you?”

Emma forgot to breathe as tears spilled down her cheeks. Jonathan had always been her haven, the place where she felt cherished and safe.

Jonathan was her home.

He had been since they were children. With him, everything about her world made sense. Without him, her world had fallen into chaos. Her hopes and dreams were in shambles around her.

“It’s where the people you love live.”

She remembered their night at Mama Vittore’s, their romantic dance, the kiss on the porch swing. The way she’d felt so alive, so protected, so cherished. Her throat swelled with the truth she could no longer deny. A truth she’d come to realize that night in his arms.

She loved Jonathan. Not just as a brother. Not just as a best friend. She loved him the way a woman loves a man she wants to share her life with.

Why had it taken her so long to admit that? Why had she been fighting so hard against it?

Emma raised her eyes. “Oh, Mrs. C. I think I know where I belong. But I’m afraid it may be too late.”

Mrs. C. squeezed her hand. “You’ll never know if you don’t try. Maybe he’s still staying with his friend.” She reached into her apron pocket. “I happen to have the address, if you’re interested.”

Emma took the paper and rose, laughing through her tears. “Thank you, Mrs. C. You’re an angel. Do me a favor? Say a prayer for me.”

“Already taken care of.”

In a rather shabby hallway, Emma peered at the wrinkled piece of paper Mrs. C. had given her to ensure she had the right apartment, then knocked loudly on the door. Her heart beat an unnaturally fast rhythm in her chest, while her lungs seemed unable to take in a full breath.

Please, Lord, let him be here. Please let him not have left for England yet.

A shuffling noise sounded from within. “Just a minute.”

Emma’s stomach swooped. Not Jonathan’s voice, but he could still be inside.

The door opened. A groggy Reggie stood there, balancing on one crutch. “Emma.” His sandy brows rose and he rubbed a hand over his short hair. “This is a surprise. Come in.” He moved back and opened the door wider.

Emma entered a sparsely furnished living room. The dull beige walls were bare, except for a warped mirror by the entrance. A rather lumpy-looking sofa occupied the middle of the room, along with an armchair and a scarred table that had seen better days. It appeared Reggie hadn’t lived here too long. Either that or he needed decorating help.

“Sorry. I just woke up from a nap. Please sit down,” he said, gesturing to the sofa.

“Thank you, but I won’t be staying long. I just . . .” She clasped her hands together, peering down the short hall. “Is Jonathan here by any chance?” Her lungs squeezed with expectancy. Would Jonathan hear her voice and come out to see her? What exactly was she going to say if he did?

“Hello. How have you been? I love you.”

But Reggie’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Emma. He left on a train to Halifax three days ago.”

“Oh. I see.” The strength seemed to leave her legs. She sank onto the sofa and stared at the worn rug beneath her feet, dimly aware of Reggie hobbling away.

Jonathan was gone. He’d left town before the rally and had no idea of the devastating revelations that had occurred or the way her life had fallen apart.

But it was all her fault. She’d waited too long, her realization coming too late. Why, Lord? Why couldn’t I have figured this out sooner?

Because she’d been so obsessed with earning Randall’s affection, she’d forfeited the one person who’d always been there for her—first as a friend, but then as so much more.

No wonder his leaving to join the war had hurt so much. She must have loved Jonathan even then, but hadn’t let herself admit the truth, hiding instead behind her engagement to Danny. Danny had been the safe choice. She was fond of him, but not so consumed with love that the loss of him terrified her. That’s why she’d been so devastated when Jonathan had enlisted. But she’d been too afraid to let him see her heart, too afraid to acknowledge the depth of her feelings for him.

Despite everything, he’d come with her all the way to Canada, and when he’d finally got up the courage to offer her his heart, she’d turned him down.

Her chest grew tighter. What was wrong with her?

“Here. Drink this.” Reggie handed her a glass of water, then lowered himself somewhat awkwardly to the armchair beside her.

With trembling hands, she lifted the glass and drained its contents, then set it on the table in front of her. “I’ve been such a fool,” she said softly. “And now he’s gone.”

Reggie let out a sigh. “I tried to get him to stay. Told him our university was just as good as Oxford, but he wouldn’t have it.” He scratched his head. “I think it was too painful for him here, to be so close to you and not be with you the way he wanted.”

Emma closed her eyes until the wave of sorrow passed. She opened them and looked at Reggie, surprised to find no condemnation in his eyes, only compassion. “I was so busy chasing after my father that I didn’t see what was right in front of me all along.”

A dull silence filled the room. Emma knew she should go but couldn’t quite make herself leave the one person who shared her connection to Jonathan. Who probably missed him as much as she did.

After several seconds, Reggie leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. “You know, when we were in the hospital in France, Jon told me all about you. How you were the one thing that had kept him going through all the torment he’d experienced. And he vowed that as soon as he got home, he was going to tell you how he felt.”

She blinked. “He never said a word. Not until just recently.”

“Apparently when he arrived home, you were involved with ‘some rich bloke,’ as he put it.” Reggie smiled sadly. “Seems there was always something holding Jonathan back. Some reason to put your happiness ahead of his own.”

“I’ve made such a muddle of everything,” she whispered. “What am I going to do now?”

Reggie leaned back in his chair. “I guess you have a choice to make. You can stay here and keep hoping your father will change, or you can go after the man who truly loves you. Who would do anything for you.” He paused to give her a pointed look. “Even let you go.”

Emma sniffed, determination returning to her spirit. “You’re right. It’s time I put Jonathan’s happiness first.” She walked over and bent to kiss Reggie’s cheek. “Thank you for being such a good friend to him.”

“It wasn’t hard, believe me.” Reggie struggled to get to his feet. “Good luck, Emma. I hope it works out for you both.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Reggie. And if it does, I’ll send you an invitation to the wedding.”