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Authors: Kathleen Y'Barbo
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paused. “And for all I’ve failed to do?”
Emilie let out a long breath and tried hard to remember every detail of the moment. To her surprise, her father pushed her away to hold her at arm’s length.
“I need to hear it, daughter,” he said. “I cannot rest without hearing your words of forgiveness.”
His image swam before her until she blinked away the tears. “Yes. I forgive you.”
Chapter 7
May 26, 1836
Aboard the merchant vessel Sunday Service
Four days at sea, and Emilie felt as green as the dress she wore. “An unfortunate choice of attire,” she muttered as she adjusted the strings on her bonnet, then attempted to rise though the floor beneath her seemed to do the same.
Dining thus far had been near to impossible, much more so this morning as most of the night was spent lashed to the bunk with a length of rope. Such was the tossing of the waves that she’d felt certain she would wake to find all her things had been bandied about like toys.
The tiny cabin held fast despite the rolling of the ship, and with the sunrise, Emilie saw that so had her traveling trunk. Carefully lifting the lid, she reached for the tin of food Cook had packed for the journey and nibbled at a few crumbs of cornbread. When that went down successfully, she attempted a few more.
Soon enough, she’d had her fill and replaced the tin atop the other items in the trunk. As she made to shift the items around and close the lid, a small but heavy package landed atop her foot.
“What’s this?” She lifted the paper-wrapped bundle and turned it over. “Where did this come from?” Emilie looked into the trunk and saw that her small traveling case had been dislodged during the night and sprung open. Likely someone had placed this inside for her to find upon arrival in Florida.
Emilie held it up, then gave it a good shake. Moving back to her bunk, she sat beneath the gently swaying lantern and pulled at the string that held the package together. When the tie gave, a substantial sum of money and a folded note came tumbling out onto her lap and spilled on the bunk.
Gasping, Emilie reached for the note and folded it open. “ ‘ Pour mon belle fille, Emilie,’ ” she read. “ ‘This is for the purpose that calls you back to Fairweather Key.’ ”
She let the note drop and reached to grab a handful of the fortune now decorating her bunk. “For what calls me back to Fairweather Key,” she whispered.
The laughter started as a giggle that bubbled up from deep inside. By the time she’d made an accounting of her newfound treasure, the giggle had become a laugh so joyful she doubted her ability to stop.
But stop she must, for the money needed to be safeguarded until she arrived home to present it to the judge. As she had suspected, the amount in her arms was exactly equal to the sum Judge Campbell required to keep the children’s education in Fairweather Key.
“How did you know, Papa?” she mused as she collected the money and returned it to the safety of the nondescript package.
The answer she might never know, but this did not take away one whit from the celebration the town would hold upon her return. Not a penny of this precious money would go to anything but the children’s education, but perhaps if the townsfolk were to pool their resources, the festivities would be something to behold.
A great wave lashed against the vessel, sending Emilie crashing shoulder first into the cabin wall. A check of the tiny porthole showed the sun still shone bright, so the cause could not be a storm. For this, she quickly gave thanks. The tossing and turning of her stomach, however, seemed greatly magnified when the walls were close enough to see their movement.
And she had great need to celebrate, even if those aboard could never be told the cause.
“Sunshine is exactly the cure for this,” she said as she folded the paper and attempted to retie the strings. “ ‘For these are light and
Emilie let out a long breath and tried hard to remember every detail of the moment. To her surprise, her father pushed her away to hold her at arm’s length.
“I need to hear it, daughter,” he said. “I cannot rest without hearing your words of forgiveness.”
His image swam before her until she blinked away the tears. “Yes. I forgive you.”
Chapter 7
May 26, 1836
Aboard the merchant vessel Sunday Service
Four days at sea, and Emilie felt as green as the dress she wore. “An unfortunate choice of attire,” she muttered as she adjusted the strings on her bonnet, then attempted to rise though the floor beneath her seemed to do the same.
Dining thus far had been near to impossible, much more so this morning as most of the night was spent lashed to the bunk with a length of rope. Such was the tossing of the waves that she’d felt certain she would wake to find all her things had been bandied about like toys.
The tiny cabin held fast despite the rolling of the ship, and with the sunrise, Emilie saw that so had her traveling trunk. Carefully lifting the lid, she reached for the tin of food Cook had packed for the journey and nibbled at a few crumbs of cornbread. When that went down successfully, she attempted a few more.
Soon enough, she’d had her fill and replaced the tin atop the other items in the trunk. As she made to shift the items around and close the lid, a small but heavy package landed atop her foot.
“What’s this?” She lifted the paper-wrapped bundle and turned it over. “Where did this come from?” Emilie looked into the trunk and saw that her small traveling case had been dislodged during the night and sprung open. Likely someone had placed this inside for her to find upon arrival in Florida.
Emilie held it up, then gave it a good shake. Moving back to her bunk, she sat beneath the gently swaying lantern and pulled at the string that held the package together. When the tie gave, a substantial sum of money and a folded note came tumbling out onto her lap and spilled on the bunk.
Gasping, Emilie reached for the note and folded it open. “ ‘ Pour mon belle fille, Emilie,’ ” she read. “ ‘This is for the purpose that calls you back to Fairweather Key.’ ”
She let the note drop and reached to grab a handful of the fortune now decorating her bunk. “For what calls me back to Fairweather Key,” she whispered.
The laughter started as a giggle that bubbled up from deep inside. By the time she’d made an accounting of her newfound treasure, the giggle had become a laugh so joyful she doubted her ability to stop.
But stop she must, for the money needed to be safeguarded until she arrived home to present it to the judge. As she had suspected, the amount in her arms was exactly equal to the sum Judge Campbell required to keep the children’s education in Fairweather Key.
“How did you know, Papa?” she mused as she collected the money and returned it to the safety of the nondescript package.
The answer she might never know, but this did not take away one whit from the celebration the town would hold upon her return. Not a penny of this precious money would go to anything but the children’s education, but perhaps if the townsfolk were to pool their resources, the festivities would be something to behold.
A great wave lashed against the vessel, sending Emilie crashing shoulder first into the cabin wall. A check of the tiny porthole showed the sun still shone bright, so the cause could not be a storm. For this, she quickly gave thanks. The tossing and turning of her stomach, however, seemed greatly magnified when the walls were close enough to see their movement.
And she had great need to celebrate, even if those aboard could never be told the cause.
“Sunshine is exactly the cure for this,” she said as she folded the paper and attempted to retie the strings. “ ‘For these are light and
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