Hope Between the Pages by Pepper Basham (ebook reader for surface pro .txt) 📕

relaxed back into the chair. “He’s only like this when he drinks too much. Otherwise, he’s perfectly civil.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Sweet, even.”

“And with the way his business is going, do you think he’s going to be inclined to drink less or more?”

Lark’s face paled. She’d told me enough, and I’d read the papers enough, to know that Ralph’s bank wasn’t in the finest shape. She refused to answer.

“You cannot stay with him, Lark. It’s not safe.”

“Where else would I go, Sadie?” Her gaze quivered in mine. “Back to Aunt Elaine to live with nothing? A wife who left her husband because he secretly took out his anger on her? No one will believe me.”

“Then I will send for you.” I grabbed her gloved hand. “Once Oliver and I are settled, I’ll send for you to come to me. Ralph won’t chase you across an ocean.”

“Come to you?” She shook her head. “An ocean? What are you talking about?”

“It’s why I’ve been trying so desperately to meet with you.” I steadied my gaze in hers. “He’s sent for me and I’m going.”

“What?” Her bottom lip dropped. “To England?”

“Yes. I would have told you sooner, but—”

“You’re going to England?” The pitch in her voice rose with her volume. “Does Aunt Elaine know?”

“Yes, I told her last week.” She’d kissed me and cried on my shoulder but wished me all the joy in the world, although I felt certain she thought I would die aboard ship. “You may justify Ralph’s behavior all you want, but what will you do when there are children? And what if he becomes worse, Lark?”

A tinge of fear shimmied across her expression and my stomach sank. He’d already become worse. More than she’d imagined.

“If I send for you, will you come?”The words echoed with memory. Oliver. I almost smiled. He’d support my decision to invite Lark, to rescue her, whatever it took.

“To England?”

I nodded. “Oliver would agree with me. I know it.” I squeezed her hand. “You must write to me, Lark. Keep me informed.”

Her eyelids drifted closed, and when she opened them again, sadness dulled her eyes. “I will write to you. I promise to be a better sister, even as you leave to go thousands of miles away.” She drew in a breath and squeezed my hand back. “But it’s not your job to rescue me, Sadie.”

“Lark—”

“No.” She shook her head and pulled her hands away. “You’re making your choice. I made mine. We both must live with the consequences of our decisions. Whatever those may be.”

I waited for the seasickness, but, thankfully, it never came. For six days, as the steamship sped over the Atlantic, I mingled in a world almost as grand as Biltmore. The sea bathed me in salt air and crisp wind, beyond anything I’d ever read of, and yet, the descriptions in dozens of stories had, somehow, prepared me for the wild beauty and endless horizon. Waves spilled, one over the other, on some eternal race to the horizon, showcasing colors in every hue of gray, blue, and green.

The air tinged with promise, adventure, and, like the ornament Mrs. Vanderbilt had given me said, I embraced this moment of living my own story, even if I couldn’t see over the aqua horizon. God was there. And here. And all the places in between. Couldn’t I trust Him with the horizon as I trusted this ship to carry me to Oliver?

I’d researched the route and found several photo books showcasing steamships and Liverpool. I’d even sorted out how to transfer from the docks to the nearest train depot set for Fenwick, in the instance Oliver was delayed, but I shouldn’t have worried. I’d barely reached the top of the gangway when I heard my name shouted from the dock below.

At first, the crowds blurred into one conglomeration of joyful outcries, but then, from the center of the spectators, he appeared, waving his hat in the air, his smile wide. Every doubt, every little worry that had dogged me across the ocean, faded away. Some dreams were meant for us to carry alone. Others were made to share.

I’d barely made it to the bottom of the gangway before he swept me into his arms and peppered me with kisses, his laughter blending in with my own.

“You’re here.” He paused, his hands on my shoulders as he examined my face. “And you look even more beautiful than I remember, which is quite the compliment.”

I raised my hand to his cheek, touching him with the confidence and intimacy afforded an engaged woman. “I’m so glad to see you.”

His smile gentled and he kissed me again, this time lingering a second longer than the ones before. “I’m tempted to take you to the church straightaway instead of waiting until tomorrow, but that wouldn’t be very loving of me, would it?” He brushed back a loose strand of my hair and then braided his fingers through mine. “You deserve a good night’s sleep and some time to prepare, as any bride should.”

“I would marry you right away.”

“Oooh.” He narrowed his eyes and waved a finger at me. “Don’t tempt me, my dear girl. I’m trying to be unselfish and the very embodiment of a gentleman, and no reputable clergy would go against the rules of the marriage banns. But for now I’ll revel in having you within arms’ reach.” He laughed and pulled my arm through his. “First, we’ll gather your things and then ride to the station, at which time we’ll be able to happily converse during the long ride to Fenwick.” He pressed his hand over mine against his arm. “Or you can fall asleep and I’ll happily admire you resting beside me, even if you snore.”

I gave him a playful jab, and somehow it was as if all those months apart disappeared. And now, I was free to be his, in front of the whole world.

“I’ll escort you to Grandmama’s for this evening—as we planned— and then tomorrow, she has