The Hungry Heart Fulfilled (The Hunger of the Heart Series Book 3)

by Shannon Farrell

  Emer grew impatient at any delays, and finally, one day in mid-May, after losing her temper over a relatively insignificant matter, Emily Jenkins said kindly, “Maybe now you can understand what Dalton’s been through, missing you so much for so long, and not being able to wait until he could see you again, only to have you reject him.”

  Emer burst into tears and wept on her friend’s shoulder. “But I can’t leave, everyone is counting on me,” Emer cried.

  “You’ve done more than enough. Go home, Emer. Go home to Dalton now.”

  “I’ve hurt him so badly, haven’t I, and he has never once let on. I don’t know how he can ever forgive me.”

  The older woman said mildly, “When two people really, truly love each other, forgiveness makes no difference. It doesn’t even become a question of any importance. Look at Sam and I. We can’t have children, but not once has a word of reproach ever passed either of our lips.

  "We were so poor before you helped us, but we never once complained because we had each other. We’ve shared his work side by side, and not let it drive a wedge between us, because it was what we both wanted, and both felt happiest doing,” Mrs. Jenkins confided.

  Emer gazed at her friend in wonder. She had never even guessed what a secret sorrow her friends had both endured.

  “You and Dalton can be the same, Emer. You have the fever hospital together back in Canada, your brother Cathan and the children, the orphanage. Though it would be wonderful to see you have more children, you don’t need anything more than what you already have to cement the two of you together.

  "You respect and admire one another. You've built a life together under the most horrendous circumstances, and you've been able to not only love but to forgive each other, a major test of any relationship, my dear, and one that a lot of couples fail."

  Emer looked down at the desk where she had spilled her ink, and slowly began to clean it up.

  "Forgive me if I say that Sam and I view you as the daughter we never had. That's why we both wanted to stay. That and seeing if we could help the Irish, who have suffered so much.

  "So allow me to say that I'm very proud of you both for what you've achieved, Emer, though it has all been at a very high cost. I’m not talking about money, either. The orphanage, medical school for Dalton, the prison farm, all these were personal sacrifices you’ve both unflinchingly made in order to do the right thing for as many people as possible.

  “And I can tell you now, it wasn’t easy for Dalton to destroy his father or Madeleine Lyndon, you must know that. But Dalton did it because it was the just thing to do, and because he loved you."

  Emily put her hand on Emer's shoulder. "He's suffered terribly for it, and when he looks at you, I see his hungry, desperate yearning for you to make him whole again. He was a lost man when he boarded the Pegasus. His hunger for love brought you together, and his hungry heart has pined and pined, and still not been fulfilled. Through the miracle of your love for each other, you’ve both been saved, as have many others. But it's you he hungers for above all. The love of his life. So you should go home to him now."

  "It's kind of you to say all this, but—"

  Emily shook her head. “Not kind, simply the truth. Which is why I say, even if things are going well now, Dalton still needs you, more than ever. Forget the past, put it all behind you, and show him how you really feel. I know you’ve said you love him, but actions speak louder than words. Go home, Emer, and show him that nothing else in the whole world matters more than your love for him,” Mrs. Jenkins counselled wisely.

  “Thank you, Emily, thank you so much." She rose to hug her friend, and then returned to sit at her desk to finish cleaning the mess she had made. "Are you and Sam and Charlie going to stay to look after things when I'm gone?”

  “Aye, we're going to stay. Don’t worry, everything will be fine. Just pack your things, and get on the next boat you can find.”

  Emer shook her head. “I can't just yet. Terence and O’Brien are leaving at the end of the week. I’ll stay until then.”

  "I understand. Just let us know if there's anything we can do to help."

  "You already have, more than you know." She rose from her chair, patted the older woman on the shoulder, and headed off to start her packing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Emer took a tearful farewell of all her friends in Clonmel, and though she was sad to leave all her work behind, she knew it would carry on without her, and become a marvellous success of which everyone could be justly proud.

  Governor Collins had kindly given permission for Emer to ride in the same carriage as Terence and O’Brien down to the Cork docks, and their lively conversation never once flagged, though they knew they had to face a difficult parting from one another all too soon.

  Emer was allowed to walk up and down the dock with them a few times. The men enjoyed the fresh air, both the first and the last the prisoners would have for a while, but soon it was time for her to leave them by the launch for Spike Island, from whence they would set off for Tasmania.

  She had showered them with presents of clothes and food, and was reassured by the governor that they would be treated well on the voyage out.

  “Well, this is goodbye, then. Who would have ever dreamed that I would have met you, and that we would have become friends under such unexpected circumstances,” Emer said almost formally, so desperate was she not to break down at their parting.

  “The friendship isn’t over, Emer. We’ll keep in touch, and who knows, perhaps one day we’ll come see you and Dalton in Canada,” O’Brien said with a small smile.

  “I’ll miss you something fierce, Emer, that I will,” Terence declared with a catch in his voice as he pulled her up into his arms and twirled her around.

  “Write to me. I’ll send whatever you need as soon as I can, and take care of yourselves,” Emer murmured against his ear.

  “Sure, and isn’t it grand to have such a wealthy lady on our side.” Terence grinned as he set her back down on the ground.

  “You know what I mean. I trust you both to keep the faith, and fight on even in Tasmania,” Emer said as she hugged O’Brien.

  “Good luck to you, my love. Be happy, you and Dalton.”

  “Thank you, William,” Emer managed to say.

  He kissed her again and then walked up the gangplank and onto the deck of the launch.

  Terence held out two handkerchiefs, and said, “They’re all we could give you as a token of our esteem, but please remember us fondly when we're gone.”

  “I will, Terence and thank you,” Emer vowed, as she took the small squares of cloth, and tucked them safely down the bosom of her gown, close to her heart.

  “What for, getting you tried for treason?” Terence quipped.

  "Oh, you know, Terence. Don’t make me say it, or I shall start to cry, and then we really will all disgrace ourselves in public,” Emer sniffed.

  “I know, lass, I know. Words don’t do justice to what we’ve shared, so let’s just kiss once more, and part, my dearest love,” Terence breathed.

  With a powerful kiss on Emer’s rosy lips, he flung himself onto the launch and then began to wave as it moved away from the dock.

  “Erin Go Bragh!” Emer shouted.

  “Ireland forever!” Terence and O’Brien echoed, before their boat moved out of range.

  Emer watched her friends sail away until the boat became a mere speck on the horizon, and then pulled out the handkerchiefs to look at them once more. Feeling two small lumps, she opened one of them carefully in the fluttering breeze.

  Inside she found a lock of Terence’s hair, and in the second handkerchief was a curl from O’Brien. Emer folded up the handkerchiefs carefully again, and then began to weep in earnest.

  When she was able to calm herself sufficiently, she went to the jeweller’s shop in the South Mall where she had sold her wedding ring so long ago, and asked to buy a locket. She found one elegant gold one engraved with forget-me-nots, and it had severa
l glass compartments inside.

  “It’s designed for keeping your children’s hair in, you see,” the woman said kindly, looking at Emer’s pinched face.

  “I’ll take it, and would you have a plainer one, maybe something a man could wear on his watch chain?”

  The woman brought out one identical to Emer’s, except that it had no engraving on the outside, and was round instead of oval.

  “Can you put the inscription ‘To Dalton, with all my love, Emer’ on it for me, please?” Emer requested.

  “Of course, Madame.”

  Emer stood by the counter in the shop while the shopkeeper’s husband did as she asked, and while she waited she inserted her own locks of her friends’ hair into her locket, and then asked the woman a favour.

  “Could you also cut of one of my curls, to put it in the man’s one?”

  “Of course, my dear. Just hold still a moment. There, all done.” The shopkeeper handed Emer the curl.

  Emer thanked the woman and paid her. She tucked her curl into her present for Dalton, and then headed up the docks to see which ship was sailing to Canada next.

  Much to her surprise, she saw the Pegasus in the harbour, and Patrick Bradley standing nearby.

  After they had exchanged kisses and news, Patrick said, “Dalton sent it to bring supplies over to you. We just finished unloading it, and we're re-provisioning her now. Are you going home, then, Emer?”

  “Aye, Patrick I am, as soon as I can get a ship to take me.”

  “About time too, you silly girl. Dalton’s been miserable without you, and you don’t look much better. Give me your things, and I’ll take them on board.”

  Emer blinked. “You mean the Pegasus is the next ship to Canada?”

  “Aye, it’s all set to sail now, and with a bright new captain by the name of Bradley, and an all-Irish crew.”

  “How splendid, congratulations to you all!” Emer kissed her friend. “It must be a lucky omen.”

  “I sure hope so, Emer,” Patrick sighed. “I wouldn’t want a voyage like our last one together.”

  “Neither would I!” Emer crossed herself as she said a prayer for all the departed souls.

  “And if I catch you, even once, trying to climb the rigging, my dear, I will lock you in the cabin for the duration of the voyage!”

  “Oh, Patrick, it’s good to see you all again. When do we leave?”

  “Dawn tomorrow.”

  Emer beamed. “I can’t wait.”

  The following day, on the thirtieth of May, exactly two years since she had first set sail for Canada, Emer said her final goodbye to Ireland.

  It was time for her to return to her real home, right by Dalton Randall’s side.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  On Emer’s five-week voyage to Canada on the Pegasus, she had the leisure to rest and recuperate from the long two years she had spent struggling to save her family and friends.

  Freed from the cares of a ship full of ill family and passengers, the orphanage and the prison, she began to imagine what she could do to show Dalton just how much his love and support had meant to her.

  She had been given the stateroom that Dalton had had on their first magical journey together, and an idea formed in her mind as they travelled up the Saint Lawrence River to Quebec.

  Once the Pegasus had anchored off the coast of Grosse Ile, and passed quarantine, Emer decided to go ahead with her bold plan.

  “Patrick, could you send a lad into town on the steamer, and have him get me the things on this list, and also make sure there is a hot bath prepared at seven this evening? And take this message into town to the fever hospital, and arrange for Dalton to be brought out here at seven as well.”

  Patrick looked, and stared. “But this note says it’s an emergency!”

  “It is, believe me. I have to be sure Dalton will come, and you aren’t to say a word, do you understand? Then, when Dalton is safely on board, you can take the steamer, and all have shore leave for the next three days.” Emer said with a wicked wink.

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Patrick saluted her, and did as she had requested. After all, wasn’t love a wonderful thing?

  Emer spent the day preparing her surprise, taking a long hot soak first, and then curling her damp hair into an elaborate classical style piled high on her head.

  She dressed with care in the black gown Dalton had given her for Christmas, and laid out all the food carefully, making sure that there was nothing missing.

  She placed her gold locket for Dalton on the table as well, wrapped in some shiny paper she had found aboard, and then checked that the poor confused young boy who had gone shopping for her had also managed to secure a similar volume of poetry in town to the one Dalton had first shared with her so long ago.

  Then Emer packed up most of her belongings, leaving out only some toiletries and a dressing gown. With any luck, she wouldn’t even need to wear that if her scheme went according to plan.

  Promptly at seven, the cabin boy rapped on the door and filled the tub with hot water. Just as he was finishing, Emer heard the jolly-boat brush the side of the ship gently.

  “Good to see you, sir,” Patrick greeted Dalton above.

  “Well, Patrick, the note said it was an emergency. What sort of emergency? An illness, is it?”

  “A fever, sir. Only you can cure it, I’m sure,” Patrick said a trifle loudly as he led the way below to the cabin.

  Patrick swung open the door, and then pushed Dalton inside and closed it.

  Dalton blinked, and stood gazing at Emer longingly.

  “It’s really you? And you’re not ill?” Dalton managed to say, as a lump formed in his throat at how lovely she looked.

  “I’m sick with longing for you, Dalton. Shall we have our special night again the same as before, with a bath and poetry?” Emer smiled enticingly, though inside she was terribly nervous.

  “It’s a lovely idea, sweetheart, but I’m not sure...”

  “I am.” Emer silenced his protest, kissing him with all the pent-up ardour her long-repressed body contained.

  Dalton groaned long and loud as he struggled against Emer’s erotic onslaught. In the end he simply gave himself up to his torrid longings, and began kissing Emer back as though he were about to devour her.

  Desire, fiery and hot, and so urgent it could no longer be denied, coursed through Emer’s veins as his tongue invaded her mouth, and she felt almost as helpless as she had done when she had been crippled.

  Her legs buckled beneath her under Dalton’s persistent amorousness, and she grasped his crisp white shirt-front for support.

  Dalton swung Emer up into his arms and laid her on the bunk, before starting to tear off his own clothes, while all the while kissing her lips, throat and neck, and delicately nibbling her erect nipples through the fabric of her black gown.

  A sharp pang of pleasure tugged at her womb, and within seconds Dalton had stripped her bare from the waist down.

  One hand had worked convulsively at the buttons of her top, while his other explored her intimately, almost as though he were trying to memorise every inch of her inside and out.

  Once Emer was completely naked, Dalton began to shower her with teasing sultry kisses from her lips to her toes, and everywhere in between, until Emer writhed on the bed in an agony of exquisite torment and shouted Dalton’s name breathlessly.

  “I’m here, my love, I’m here,” Dalton reassured her as he held her shuddering body tightly against his own.

  “Now, Dalton now, please,” Emer begged, satiated by his marvellously intimate caresses, yet needing so much more.

  “Are you sure, Emer, really sure?” Dalton forced himself to say, as her wriggling body brushing against him played havoc with his loins.

  Emer opened her arms and legs wide, as she breathed, “I’ve never had any doubts.”

  Dalton’s patience snapped then. As he entered her, it was so unbearably blissful, that both could feel the tears springing up into their eyes.

&
nbsp; “I’m home,” Dalton murmured as he filled Emer with the hard potent force of him, and then ever so gently began to move.

  “So am I, my love,” Emer gasped.

  Emer’s fingernails dug into Dalton’s back as her head tossed from side to side on the pillow, her burgundy tresses spreading out like a halo of brilliant fire as Dalton quickly took out her hair pins in order to run his fingers through the luxuriant waves.

  He paused to demand urgently, “Open your eyes, and look at me, Emer.”

  Emer moaned and wriggled her hips so that he drove even deeper into her, but Dalton held himself back, and asked, “Am I enough for you?”