The foghorn boomed again: two o'clock, now. The air was beginning to get chilly, and the mist was thickening into fog. Emily shivered and pulled the cloak tighter. Her thoughts drifted back…
XXX
That night of the wedding, Emily got very little sleep - thoughts of Bart kept passing through her head, keeping her wide-awake most of the night.
The next day the lack of sleep caught up with her and she decided that, rather than give in to the temptation to take a nap at home, it would be better if she went for a walk to get some fresh air. Emily had a favorite place that she liked to visit, so she picked up her cloak and headed out for a stroll.
Her destination was about a half-hour's journey away, but the sun was out and the weather was warm and bright; the birds sang in the trees. She wasn't in a hurrying mood and she dallied along the way, so she arrived a bit later than usual.
But the old moss-bound oak tree, being in even less of a hurry than she, was still there and her 'thinking spot' was empty and inviting. It had been her favorite place for many years, and it was where she went when she wanted to go off by herself: to think, relax, or to just settle her mind. Today, she wanted to do all three…
The tree was on the edge of the oldest part of the village graveyard. Here it was overgrown and heavily shaded - almost gloomy - but there was a small clearing near the center of the old part, presided over by the old tree. Most folks avoided this corner of the cemetery, but Emily liked it; for some reason, she felt most at peace when she was here.
Emily pulled out a book (an old favorite of hers) and spread out her cloak upon the ground beneath the tree, making herself as comfortable as she could upon the hard ground.
After a while, she started to doze again but, this time, she decided to let the tiredness overtake her, and she drifted off to sleep.
Emily dreamed of Bart - a very nice dream. At the end of it, she could hear him calling her - and then she woke up.
"Ah, Miss Emily, the bridesmaid," Bart smiled. "We meet again."
Emily gasped in surprise. There he was, standing on the path directly in front of her. She hastily composed herself and blushed.
"Do you come here often?" he asked.
"Y-yes, sometimes," she stammered. "T-this is my favorite spot."
He took a deep breath and looked around. "I can see why," he said. "It's a nice place and quite … private."
She said nothing. It occurred to her at that moment that she was all alone with this strange man, and her heart began to pound. What if he…
"Well, I must be going," he said. "Errands to run, and things to do. Do you come here often?" he asked again.
Emily relaxed and nodded. "Sometimes," she said. "When the weather's nice, I like to come here to read." She paused. "In the afternoons, mostly. After lunch..."
Bart smiled again. "I'll keep an eye out then. Till then, Miss Emily…" He tipped his hat, then turned and walked away.
She watched him until he was gone, then opened the book again. It was one of her favorites but, for some reason, she couldn't concentrate on it, so she snapped it shut, gathered up her cloak, and started for home.
She went out to the tree the very next day. For most of the afternoon, she waited there, but he never showed up and, eventually, she gave up and left. All the way home, she scolded herself for being so silly.
But the day after that she went for another trip to the tree and - this time - a half-hour after she had arrived, he walked by. This time he stayed to talk, they had a nice visit, and she learned all about him.
Bart was twenty-six years old, and a self-employed man of business. He had been on his own since his early teen years, and had been most everywhere and had done all kinds of things. And not only was he interesting - but he was also interested in her. She told him her age (eighteen) and all about Daddy and how he was a sea captain who went out to sea a lot. And of her piano, and her music, and of all kinds of other things…
It was nice to finally have someone to talk to, and Bart was good at it - and at listening, too. They had talked until, in the distance, the church bell rang and Emily realized that it was nearly suppertime, and that she had to get home immediately. She bid Bart a quick good-bye, and hurried home.
Daddy was waiting for her there. "How was your old friend, the tree, today?" he asked.
Emily hesitated just a moment or two before she answered. "Fine," she said.
He gave her a strange look, and then shrugged. "I guess we should be eating before too long," he said. "But, I don't feel like supper just yet. I'm going for a walk … be back in an hour."
She assured him that supper would be ready then; he nodded, then put on his white captain's hat and left. Emily watched him go, then she sighed and entered the little house.
As she prepared the meal, her head swirled. Had he suspected? It was highly improper for young unmarried girls to socialize with young single men un-chaperoned, and Daddy had a very strong sense of propriety.
She sighed again. Daddy was not in the habit of going for walks at the supper hour - it was his way of scolding her for the late meal without mentioning it directly. She would have to be careful not to let that happen again...
Over the next few weeks they fell into a routine of meeting two or three times a week. Fortunately, Daddy sailed a lot during the weekdays and that made it easier to get together without him finding out.
From time to time she would think about her secret and feel bad about the deception. One day, Emily had had an idea: perhaps he could come to church one day - then he could meet Daddy and then, over time, she could gradually work him around to a full knowledge and approval.
But Bart shook his head at that: no - couldn't be done, he said. His business dealings always took him out of town on the weekends. And that was that…
But he was able to see her during the week and that was good enough for her - for awhile.
As the days (then weeks) passed, Emily's feelings for him grew, and the day came when she finally had to tell him how she felt.
She still remembered that day … the day was sunny, bright, and warm - and she was lying with her head in his lap under their tree. Emily looked up at him, caught his eye, and smiled.
"I love you," she whispered.