better now.
Or they could be much worse. Again the nagging voice pierced his thoughts.
Guilt washed over him. Tavin knew he’d not been a good son to his parents. He hadn’t bothered to keep in touch very often to let his poor mother know that he was still alive and well. He was lucky to get a letter off to them twice a year, and usually it was from a different location, which he did not explain. The fact that this latest letter from them had caught up to him had been something of a miracle. Months old, the letter had found its way to him through some associates who happened to locate Tavin quite by accident. By the time they forwarded the letter, even more time had passed.
He had thought about trying to telephone someone in the St. Cloud area or sending his mother a telegram to learn more about his father’s condition, but it seemed an unnecessary expense. Besides, his parents lived far beyond the city limits and wouldn’t have a telephone. Who would he call? He didn’t know much of anyone in St. Cloud. After all, he’d been gone for nearly eleven years. He brushed away his concern for his father. Worrying wouldn’t change a thing.
“We’re ready to board our passengers,” a ship’s steward announced through a megaphone. “Please make your way forward and have your ticket in hand.”
Tavin slung his bag over his shoulder and reached into his pocket. He presented the ticket and waited for the man to look it over. The steward raised a brow at the lack of cabin assignment but said nothing. He no doubt knew that the captain of this steamer was more than happy to make a few extra dollars selling tickets to those who were willing to sleep on deck. So long as the Great Lakes and the weather cooperated with them, Tavin figured it would be an easy enough journey even without a room of his own.
The man directed Tavin to the appropriate deck and turned to the next passenger. Without another word, Tavin boarded the ship and went in search of a comfortable place to bide his time. He glanced down at the deck and pondered the days to come. Not looking where he was going, he ran headlong into a young woman.
“Oh my!” the redhead declared. Her bonnet slid to one side, and she quickly put up her hand to secure it.
“I apologize, ma’am,” Tavin said, tipping his own hat. He was startled for a moment at the woman’s brilliant blue eyes. They were so like Emmalyne’s that he nearly reached out to touch the young woman’s face.
“It’s all right,” she assured him. “I’m no worse for the wear.” She smiled and made her way past him to the rail.
Tavin couldn’t help but look after her for a moment. The color of the stranger’s hair was several shades lighter than Emmalyne’s and she was clearly younger. Nevertheless, the woman brought back a flood of memories that Tavin would have just as soon left alone.
He remembered every detail of the last time he’d gazed into Emmalyne’s eyes. It had been the night he’d asked her to elope. He’d been so angry that her father had put an endto their engagement he could barely think straight. Luthias Knox had no right to put such a demand on his daughter, denying the couple their plans to start a life together.
“And she had no right to break my heart,” he muttered, not willing to even speak her name.
Emmalyne was reaching up to set a clothespin in place when Dr. Williams made his presence known. This time she managed to keep her composure.
“I hope you have a moment to speak to me,” he said with a smile and a tip of his hat.
“Of course,” Emmalyne replied, looking down at the nearly empty basket. “Let me finish here, and then we can return to the house if you’d like.”
“It might serve us just as well to stay here. What I have to say is better said without your mother present.”
Emmalyne’s hand went to her throat. “Is she that ill?”
He shook his head. “No. Not at all. I’m sorry if I frightened you.”
“I suppose you did.”
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