Free A Wild Yearning by Penelope Williamson Page B
Authors: Penelope Williamson
the Bible in her lap. "I'm pleased to meet you, Dr. Savitch," she said in a soft, melodic voice.
Ty said nothing. It was this awkward silence that caused Delia to look from the young woman back to Ty... and at the expression on his face, Delia thought her heart would surely break.
For Tyler Savitch was staring up at the minister's wife with warm admiration in his eyes.
Chapter 4
They took a flatboat ferry across the Charles River, sharing it with a stack of rum kegs and a herd of bleating goats. Elizabeth Hooker, fearful of either the river, the goats, or both, clung to the cart and shut her eyes. Ty hovered around her, looking manly and protective.
The sight of them together, the friendly admiration in Ty's eyes, was so painful to Delia that she wondered if she could bear it. How greedy is the human heart, she thought. Only last night it had been enough for her to be near him, to see his face. But already she wanted more. She wanted what she could never have.
Delia decided she could endure it more easily if she didn't have to see them together, so she went to the stern of the boat and watched the landmarks of her past slip away from her—the steeples of Boston's many meetinghouses sticking like thistles into the sky, the wharves jutting into the harbor, the sun reflecting off the copper roof of the lighthouse on Beacon Island, dazzling her eyes. She told herself she wasn't sorry to be leaving; it was only the bright sun that was making her blink away tears.
Oh, Da...
Her da must have passed out in a grog shop somewhere because he hadn't been asleep on his tick when she went home last night. She hadn't been able to tell him goodbye, but it was probably for the best. He'd be drunk for a day or two anyway, and he'd only have come after her with his fists.
But when he sobered up later he would miss her. Like as not he wouldn't even remember her taking a clout at him with that piece of wood. He would search the waterfront for her, worry about her, and then figure out that she was gone for good, because he wasn't stupid, her da, leastways not when he was sober. And then he'd cry, because there was never one like her da for crying when he got to feeling sorry for himself.
Shame and guilt overwhelmed Delia. She promised herself she would have someone help her write a letter once she got to Merrymeeting, to tell him she was all right. At least then he wouldn't worry. Poor Da... Who would care for him now that she was gone?
And who would he use his fists on now when the drink got the best of him?
She shut her eyes, and her father's face came into her mind. But it was not her da as she'd last seen him—his eyes glittering with rage, his lips pulled back in a snarl. It was a dim memory of him on a day when he had seemed a god to her, so towering and strong to her little girl's eyes. They had stood on the end of the Long Wharf, just she and her da, as he pointed out the ships in the harbor to her. She could remember the strength of his large hand enveloping hers as they looked at the ships, the mysterious ships. She'd felt a scary excitement, thinking how wide and grand the world seemed. But mixed with that excitement was a warm feeling of security that her da was right there beside her to take care of her. She had looked up at him and he had smiled and said, "I love you, little puss..."
But then her ma had died. And the god had turned into a monster.
"Do you have family in the Merrymeeting Settlement?"
Delia turned and looked into the Reverend Caleb Hooker's thin face. He was smiling, and she noticed for the first time that his front teeth overlapped a bit. She liked that about him; it made him seem less saintly.
"I'm goin' to Merrymeeting t' be wed to a widower an' be a mother t' his two daughters," she replied, returning his smile.
"I see," he said, though he didn't sound at all as if he did.
Spoken so baldly, it sounded incredible to Delia's own ears.
She reminded herself that it was a new life she was going to. A
Ty said nothing. It was this awkward silence that caused Delia to look from the young woman back to Ty... and at the expression on his face, Delia thought her heart would surely break.
For Tyler Savitch was staring up at the minister's wife with warm admiration in his eyes.
Chapter 4
They took a flatboat ferry across the Charles River, sharing it with a stack of rum kegs and a herd of bleating goats. Elizabeth Hooker, fearful of either the river, the goats, or both, clung to the cart and shut her eyes. Ty hovered around her, looking manly and protective.
The sight of them together, the friendly admiration in Ty's eyes, was so painful to Delia that she wondered if she could bear it. How greedy is the human heart, she thought. Only last night it had been enough for her to be near him, to see his face. But already she wanted more. She wanted what she could never have.
Delia decided she could endure it more easily if she didn't have to see them together, so she went to the stern of the boat and watched the landmarks of her past slip away from her—the steeples of Boston's many meetinghouses sticking like thistles into the sky, the wharves jutting into the harbor, the sun reflecting off the copper roof of the lighthouse on Beacon Island, dazzling her eyes. She told herself she wasn't sorry to be leaving; it was only the bright sun that was making her blink away tears.
Oh, Da...
Her da must have passed out in a grog shop somewhere because he hadn't been asleep on his tick when she went home last night. She hadn't been able to tell him goodbye, but it was probably for the best. He'd be drunk for a day or two anyway, and he'd only have come after her with his fists.
But when he sobered up later he would miss her. Like as not he wouldn't even remember her taking a clout at him with that piece of wood. He would search the waterfront for her, worry about her, and then figure out that she was gone for good, because he wasn't stupid, her da, leastways not when he was sober. And then he'd cry, because there was never one like her da for crying when he got to feeling sorry for himself.
Shame and guilt overwhelmed Delia. She promised herself she would have someone help her write a letter once she got to Merrymeeting, to tell him she was all right. At least then he wouldn't worry. Poor Da... Who would care for him now that she was gone?
And who would he use his fists on now when the drink got the best of him?
She shut her eyes, and her father's face came into her mind. But it was not her da as she'd last seen him—his eyes glittering with rage, his lips pulled back in a snarl. It was a dim memory of him on a day when he had seemed a god to her, so towering and strong to her little girl's eyes. They had stood on the end of the Long Wharf, just she and her da, as he pointed out the ships in the harbor to her. She could remember the strength of his large hand enveloping hers as they looked at the ships, the mysterious ships. She'd felt a scary excitement, thinking how wide and grand the world seemed. But mixed with that excitement was a warm feeling of security that her da was right there beside her to take care of her. She had looked up at him and he had smiled and said, "I love you, little puss..."
But then her ma had died. And the god had turned into a monster.
"Do you have family in the Merrymeeting Settlement?"
Delia turned and looked into the Reverend Caleb Hooker's thin face. He was smiling, and she noticed for the first time that his front teeth overlapped a bit. She liked that about him; it made him seem less saintly.
"I'm goin' to Merrymeeting t' be wed to a widower an' be a mother t' his two daughters," she replied, returning his smile.
"I see," he said, though he didn't sound at all as if he did.
Spoken so baldly, it sounded incredible to Delia's own ears.
She reminded herself that it was a new life she was going to. A
Similar Books
Mystery Of The Sea Horse
Lee Falk
The Coal War
Upton Sinclair
Come To Me
LaVerne Thompson
Breaking Point
Lesley Choyce
Wolf Point
Edward Falco
Fallowblade
Cecilia Dart-Thornton
Seduce
Missy Johnson
