Free Heart of the Ocean by Heather B. Moore Page B

“Thank you for getting them to release me.”
    Jon stared at her until she had to look away.
    “Is there something you wanted to say?” she asked.
    He blinked as if he were coming out of some sort of trance.
“I thought you were much younger.” He looked away.
    What did her age have to do with anything? She wondered
about this man who seemed to be two different people. “Tell me about Gus,” she
said. “I’ve lived here a month and never met him before now.”
    Jon’s gaze moved back to hers, but was less intense than
before. “Gus is harmless. He’s not quite all there in the head, as they say.”
    “I see,” she said.
    Jon turned toward the ocean and scanned the horizon. “Looks
like another storm is coming in.”
    Eliza studied his profile. Jon could be considered by some a
handsome man, but his manner was too curt for her. That alone made him quite
unappealing. She closed her eyes, wondering why she was studying him at all.
    When she opened her eyes, she realized Jon was right. Dark
clouds were racing across the sky, right toward them. The storm had returned.

Eight
     
    Jon’s gaze slid to Eliza as she stared out across the ocean.
Her brow was furrowed and her pale green eyes troubled.  He found himself
comparing Eliza to Apryl, who had dark green eyes. Eliza’s were like a
watercolor painting, as if different colors had been blended together. It
appeared as if she’d attempted a simple bun in her hair, but now it had come
loose, and tendrils of gold-brown hair hung down her back, reaching nearly to
her waist.
    Seeing her coming out of the lighthouse had stunned him—first
that he recognized her immediately, and second, that she wasn’t a girl of sixteen
or seventeen. She was a woman of at least nineteen, perhaps twenty. And in a
few moments, she’d established that she wasn’t a wilting flower and wasn’t
about to mince words.
    “Any more news on your aunt’s accident?” he asked.
    She looked at him then. “You mean her murder?” Instead of
tearing-up, her gaze was like steel. “The constable hasn’t shared anything with
me, but in a town this size, I would have likely heard of any new developments
anyway.”
    Again, Jon thought of her spending that horrible night in
the dank cell. At the time, he’d been quite furious, but now, seeing her
putting on a brave face, he felt awful about his actions, and that his actions
could have resulted in her being put in jail in the first place.
    “My father is on his way,” she said. “For the funeral.”
    “I met him on the train.”
    Interest lit her eyes. “You did?”
    “We shared the same compartment on the way here. When he
introduced himself, I discovered the connection.” He tried to contain his smile
at her change in countenance. “I wondered why you didn’t speak like a Puritan
when I first found you— much less act like one.”
    A slight smile crossed her face, but she turned away
quickly.
    Jon couldn’t help but smile as well. She looked quite
beautiful when she smiled—but why was he even noticing?
    “You thought I was Puritan?” Eliza laughed and looked over
at him.
    His breathing faltered, and he took a step back. This woman
was . . . he didn’t know what she was, but he suddenly felt unsure about
everything he’d ever said to her. “I assumed . . . being in Maybrook and all .
. .”
    Her face tilted as she studied him, like he’d said something
she finally found interesting. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a
compliment.”
    Jon exhaled. “It’s not, really—a mistaken assumption.”
    Her gaze held his for a moment, and he couldn’t think of a
single thing to say.
    Finally, she broke the silence. “I suppose I should head
into town and find my father. He’s probably looking for me now.”
    “Yes,” he said, but neither of them moved. He decided to be
direct. “I came back to look for a record of my birth.” He hesitated. “Do you
think I could search your aunt’s house for any papers that my