Emma Lane by Dark Domino Page A

he making a serious mistake? Those children should be his as well.
    “You will be happy to meet the other young ladies at school. You will forget all about me. Imagine how much fun you will have learning to dance the waltz.”
    A rising storm flooded her face again. “I will never forget you. Does it mean nothing to you that I love you? I will wait for you forever, Ethan. Say you will come home and marry me?”
    Ethan clamped an iron fist over his heart. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.
    “Yes, of course. I will be home as soon as this war is over.”
    He swung himself down from the tree and reached up to catch her. She jumped willingly into his arms where he clasped her to him briefly. She hugged him fiercely around the waist. Holding hands, they walked slowly through the orchard toward the old manor house in the distance.

Chapter Two
    E THAN S AT O UTSIDE A H OSPITAL tent and listened to the moans of the wounded. He could hear the roar of the cannons in the distance as the battle raged on without him. The saber wound in his upper arm was wrapped tightly, but the pain was fierce. He acknowledged he was finished fighting when he couldn’t even hold the reins of his horse. How long he must needs rest here he had no idea. His batman had left him to procure supplies and food for them both. He pulled a package of letters from his pocket, although he had read them all twice already.
    One from his mother talked about the harvest and the hunting trip his father was on. He rapidly scanned for the paragraph he wanted. Sarah Louise was home for a visit. A young lady from her school was visiting with her. Someone named Marcia. Sarah had really grown up into a beautiful young lady. She rode side saddle now, his mother noted. The two girls had invited all the young people in the district to dine al fresco on the front lawn on the morrow. She would be there to help chaperone. They were planning archery contests. Sarah had asked how he was.
    He deeply regretted now the promise he had given to Sarah’s mother before he left. She wanted Sarah to experience the company of other young people. Would he please not write to her? The first year they were apart, Sarah had written him many letters. Initially she poured out her feelings of homesickness and her hatred of the fine manners being imposed upon her. When he did not answer, and she had chided him many times for not writing, slowly the letters dribbled away and finally stopped entirely. Sarah was angry and hurt. She told him so without mincing words. She still loved him, but she was not going to be his friend if he refused to write to her. Her last letter informed him that she had learned to waltz and it did not hold a candle to fishing and what was he thinking?
    He tried to picture her waltzing, but could only think of her dressed in her brother’s trousers and leather vest. Barefooted! It brought a smile to his face, and for a minute he forgot the pain in his arm.
    If he lived, someday she would forgive him. He would explain it all to her when he came home to marry her. He pulled out a scrap of cloth and unwrapped it. Inside was a small curl of sun-streaked hair. He pressed it to his lips and closed his eyes to picture her precious face before him. Once he had teased her by counting the freckles on her tiny nose. Three medium sized and two small ones. A couple more were stretched across her rosy cheeks.
    He had been in his early teens when Sarah Louise had first joined him on the banks of the creek that spanned their respective properties. She was as intent on catching a fish as he was. She stuck a wriggling worm on her own hook and threw it out into the stream. Not long afterwards, as cool as could be, she had pulled out a good-sized trout. From then on, the two of them had become best friends. It was an unusual relationship, but there were few young people in the neighborhood. Sarah was full of pride and fun. He admired her bravery and her skill on the back of a horse.