Heart of the Ocean by Moore Heather B. & Moore H. B

Author:Moore, Heather B. & Moore, H. B. [Moore, Heather B.]
Language: eng
Format: azw
Tags: historical romance, Paranormal, e Historical Suspense, Historical Fiction, clean romance, Suspens
Publisher: Mirror Press
Published: 2013-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

Long after Ruth and her father had retired for the night, Eliza lay in bed awake, thinking about Helena Talbot. She hadn’t yet finished reading the journal, and tomorrow she would be on a train back to New York with her father. Then she’d have to return the book to Jon. Lighting a candle on the nightstand, she pulled the trunk from under her bed and removed the journal, deciding to finish reading it tonight. She climbed back into bed, pulling the covers high, and began to read.

December 5, 1815. Any day my child will be born. I have felt a few pains over the past days. As thou seest, my handwriting is somewhat shaky. I am weak and alone. But I am not afraid. This is a challenge from God, and I will meet it. Ruth said she would look in on me from time to time. I hope she takes it upon herself to come soon, for I feel my time growing nigh.

December 12, 1815. I can finally see the light. I gave birth to a healthy son on December 6th. Praise God. During the labor, a hurricane hit the coast and most of my windows were blown out. Ruth arrived just in time. She settled me into the room under the stairs, and Little Jonny was born. He is strong and perfect in every way. Ruth cleared the debris around the house and ordered new window panes. She showed me how to care for my baby. For a woman with no children of her own, she knows a lot.

January 2, 1816. I’ve written a letter to Jonathan telling him of his son’s arrival. I pray he will receive it and come for me soon. I pray for the letter’s safe journey across the ocean—the ocean that divides our hearts. The townspeople have left small gifts at the doorstep after learning of the birth. I am overawed by their kindness. Little Jonny changes every day. His eyes are bright and inquisitive. It’s such a joy to have someone to love who doesn’t judge me. At night I watch him sleep. His soft breaths are so trusting and innocent. Sometimes I can’t hold him close enough, trying to ease the pain I feel in missing his father. Ruth is the only one whom I have seen, unless thou countest the lighthouse keeper, Gus. He is widowed with a young son. He’s an odd sort, nice enough, but something in his eyes reminds me of a hunted fox.

Even my own mother will not come see her grandchild.

March 18, 1816. Gus has been helping me a lot lately in the evenings. On those nights, I fix him supper, and we sit together in the evenings and watch our sons. His company helps to pass the time. Little Gus is awkward and clumsy, but gentle and loving with my son, something I admire. Even though Gus doesn’t go to Meeting, the townspeople seem to respect him.

I haven’t received a reply from Jonathan. The wait is almost unbearable.

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