The Hungry Heart Fulfilled (The Hunger of the Heart Series Book 3) (12 page)

 

 

Dalton stared back
at her with eyes
full of love. "I remember. I remember everything. Oh, Emer—"

 

 

His emotions choked
him for a moment
at the recollection of all they had shared, all she meant to
him. And now his
beloved was in danger once again.

 

 

"Come on now, love,
come out.
You've done enough."

 

 

"I can’t squeeze
through,” she
called, her heart aching and her lungs bursting from the
thickening smoke.

 

 

“You must try,
Emer, you must! You
can’t expect me to have travelled
half the world with you, thought you dead only to find you
again, to now stand
here and watch you die like this! I love you! Take
my hand,
and I’ll pull you out!”

 

 

Emer knew it was
impossible, but her
will to live had never been so strong as it was now.

 

 

Looking at the fire
axe at the
entrance to the building, she smashed the glass with her elbow
and seized the
weapon.

 

 

Attacking the loose
creaking
floorboards in the foyer which she had never got around to
having the carpenters
fix, she hacked at them with the last strength she possessed,
and was at least
able to make a hole big enough for her to slip down through. Though
the drop was
a good six feet,
she landed relatively safely on her hands and knees on the
dirt ground under
the floor of the foyer, and crawled to the front of the
ornamental trellis
which decorated the porch.

 

 

A huge explosion
signalled the
windows blowing out, and she could see the entire area
showered with splinters
of broken glass. Fortunately,
most
of the children had already gone to the workers' cottages to
rest, and the rest
had ducked, so few people were injured.

 

 

“The porch roof is
starting to go!”
Adrian cried out, as he bundled Dalton out of the flaming
doorway.

 

 

“Emer! Emer! We can’t leave her! We can’t!” Dalton
shouted in anguish,
as Adrian attempted to drag him away

 

 

“I’m here, Dalton! I’m here! Help me!”
Emer
shouted desperately from under the house, tugging on the
trellis impotently in
an effort to get free.

 

 

“Quickly, Dalton,
she’s over there,”
Adrian urged, pointing.

 

 

"Oh, thank God."

 

 

They tore at the
wooden trellis with
their bare hands as the flaming remains of the building began
to sway.

 

 

Emer stretched her
arm out and felt
her wrist being grasped, then her elbow and arm as Adrian and
Dalton tugged her
out head first on her distended belly.

 

 

The sparks
continued to rain down on
them, but Emer had such severe labour pains that she could
hardly move, let
alone get to her feet and run.

 

 

“It’s coming down,
get out of the
way!” Adrian yelled. He pulled at Dalton’s sleeve.

 

 

Emer lay stunned,
and suddenly felt
a heavy weight crash down onto her back, as a flaming timber
from the porch
landed on her.

 

 

“Emer! My God.
Adrian, help me!”
Dalton cried, pulling the beam off Emer’s back with all his
might though it was
still burning.  He
never even
felt the pain to his hands or arms as he lifted, and clung on
tightly until
Adrian managed to pull Emer out from underneath it.

 

 

Then Dalton scooped
Emer up into his
arms and ran with her to safety, Adrian following close
behind, as the majestic
old building collapsed into a heap of flaming debris which
showered sparks in
every direction.

 

 

“My love, you’re
safe,” Dalton
breathed as he showered Emer’s face with kisses.

 

 

"Oh, God, Dalton,
the baby is
coming."

 

 

"Are you sure?"

 

 

Her reply came out
as a strangled
scream. "Yes!"

 

 

"Adrian, Adrian!
The child is
coming."

 

 

As Emer felt
herself losing
consciousness, she begged,
“Please, Dalton, don’t let anything happened to our
baby.”

 

 

Dalton stared
stunned at Emer’s
face, but she had already fainted.

 

 

“
Our
baby?” he murmured. “Oh my Lord, the child is mine!”

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

 

Dalton’s father had
observed his
son’s behaviour throughout the entire incident, but was not
inclined to be
generous, and admit he had been wrong about Emer’s character,
even though she
had gone back into the flaming building in order to rescue the
four infants.

 

 

He saw Emer’s limp
body taken from
the wreckage, and prayed for her to die.

 

 

“I’m not letting
someone like her
pollute my family,” Frederick muttered to himself darkly.

 

 

He stormed out of
the carriage and
marched up to his son as he cradled the prone woman in his
arms. “Dalton,
Dalton, are you coming?
There's
nothing you can do here, and I wish to leave now,” he demanded
impatiently.

 

 

“Then go, Father,
but if you leave
now, without trying to help these poor unfortunate people,
then understand that
this will be the last time I ever see you.”

 

 

He didn't even look
at Emer. “She
has friends. They can look after her.
  You have other commitments and
responsibilities!”

 

 

“My commitment is
here. She’s in
labour, with my child,
mine
, do you understand.”

 

 

“I never thought
you could be so
gullible, Dalton,” Frederick said coldly. “You’ll believe any lie
this strumpet tells you!”

 

 

“Goodbye, Mr. Randall, and may we
never meet again,”
Dalton spat.

 

 

He swung Emer up into his arms and
tried to find a
place for her to rest more comfortably than on the hard ground.

 

 

Adrian insisted,
“She can’t have the
baby out here. I
have nothing at
the moment, not even boiling water. Quickly, get her into my
carriage, and we’ll take her
back to my house.”

 

 

Adrian and Dalton
sat silently in
the carriage, Dalton cradling Emer against his heart as he
willed her to be all
right. The shock of the fire and Emer’s near death as a result
of her saving
the infants began to sink in, almost overwhelming them both.

 

 

“I’ll do what I can
for them, you
know that, Dalton,” Adrian said quietly, patting his friend on
the shoulder,
"but you saw the beam that fell on her."

 

 

“We'll both do our
best. I
delivered Saoirse with my own two
hands, and I wish to do the same for my own child.”

 

 

“Perhaps it’s not
such a good
idea. You’re
very upset, your
hands are burnt, and you look exhausted, both mentally and
physically.”

 

 

“I’ve found her at
last, and I’m never
ever going to let her out of my sight again,” Dalton vowed
vehemently.
"Never."

 

 

“I understand,
Dalton. I know
all about your past history now.
Emer just confided in me the main points. I’m sorry to sound cruel,
but how could you ever have
been so stupid as
to ever let her go?”

 

 

Dalton heaved a
ragged sigh. “My
father tricked me at every turn. I
loved him, and he betrayed me and her. He told me she was dead.
Thank God I found her before I married that cow
Madeleine Lyndon, and
ruined my life forever.”

 

 

“Yes, indeed, we
all have much to be
thankful for,” Adrian said quietly, but refrained from telling
him what he had
told Emer about Madeleine that night for fear of upsetting
Dalton even further
in the state he was already in.

 

 

Once they had
arrived at Adrian’s
small house in the centre of Quebec, Dalton carried her up to
a spare bedroom
the servant showed him, while Adrian dispatched messages to
the bishop and
Myrtle Chandler to inform them about the fire, and ask for
their help in
ensuring that everything was taken care of while they would be
otherwise
occupied with Emer having her baby and then convalescing
afterwards.

 

 

Dalton laid her on
the clean sheets,
and began to
undo Emer’s clothing,
his fingers shaking tremulously when he saw her water break.

 

 

“You’re going to be
all right, my
love. I’m here,”
he murmured,
kissing her snow-white brow lovingly.

 

 

Emer, unconscious
for most of the
labour, was blissfully unaware of the pain, until near the
end, when Dalton
administered some smelling salts, tapped her on the cheeks to
wake her, and
then said, “Come on, Emer, the baby’s coming now, but we need
you to push.”

 

 

“Baby?" she
muttered drowsily.

 

 

"Aye, our baby is
just about to
arrive. I need you to push, my love."

 

 

"What happened? How
long have I
been here?” Emer murmured, feeling a curious numbness in the
lower part of her
body which she attributed to the labour.

 

 

“There was a fire
at the orphanage,
remember, darling? You
had to
escape through the floorboards and under the porch, and
something fell on
you."

 

 

"When, where am I?"

 

 

"You're at my
house,"
Adrian said with a smile. "The baby is nearly here, so we need
to you
push, dear girl."

 

 

"How long have I
been here like
this?" she asked, grimacing at the dull ache in her side and
back.

 

 

"Nearly two days,
my love. Come
on, focus now, we need your help,”
Dalton urged. "We need to get this baby out now."

 

 

“What baby? I don’t feel
anything,” she whispered
weakly.

 

 

Adrian looked at
Dalton, and shook
his head before grasping the forceps.

 

 

"All right, Emer,
push, push,
darling, come on, that's it!"

 

 

"I've got it,
Dalton,"
Adrian reassured him with evident relief.

 

 

Emer felt a very
dull sensation
between her legs, and then all of a sudden, she saw Dalton
holding the child
upside down by the ankles.
He gave
it a resounding whack on the bottom to get it to cry, and then
wiped it down
with a clean cloth.

 

 

Adrian cut the cord
and tied it off,
and Dalton said proudly, “Look, it’s a boy! Emer, we have a son!
He’s beautiful!”

 

 

Emer gazed in
amazement at the
miniature version of Dalton that was put into her arms. Then
she kissed his
tiny hand and Dalton’s lips as he bent to kiss them both.

 

 

“Do you want to
name him, Dalton?”
Emer asked quietly.

 

 

“No, no, I think
you should have
first choice of name,” Dalton insisted.

 

 

“Can we call him
William, then,
after my father?”

 

 

“I was going to say
the same
myself.” Dalton smiled, and kissed her again.

 

 

“I love you,
Dalton,” Emer sighed,
as tears of joy glimmered in her aqua eyes.

 

 

“I love you, Emer,
always. Try to
rest now,” Dalton soothed,
stroking back her tumbled burgundy hair lovingly, while his
other hand grasped
his son’s tiny fingers.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

When Emer awakened
on a bright
morning toward the end of May, she was surrounded by a sea of
concerned
faces. She saw
that they had placed
her in a plainly furnished guest room at Adrian’s house. The Bishop
was
there, along with Myrtle
and Adrian.

 

 

“Well, my dear you
gave us all a
terrible fright. I’m glad to see you’ve come back to us.” The
Bishop smiled
down at her warmly.

 

 

“The children,
where are they?” Emer
whispered, her throat sore from
the smoke she had inhaled.

 

 

“Joe is looking
after the family out
at the mansion, and Dalton has your son William safe in the
next room,” Myrtle
informed her.

 

 

“What about the
other children at
the orphanage? Where
are we going
to put them all?” Emer worried.

 

 

She tried to move
her dull-feeling
limbs to sit up.

 

 

“Easy, Emer, rest
yourself. Don’t
try to move. There's
nothing you need to worry
about,” the Bishop hastened to reassure her, pressing her back
on the pillow by
her shoulder.

 

 

“Many of the
families here in Quebec
heard about the fire, and offered their help. They've agreed to take
most of them in
until we can get the
orphanage started up again.
And
who knows, perhaps they will like them so much, they will
decide to keep
them. The eldest
ones have mostly
remained behind, and will help with the farming chores and
businesses until we
can rebuild.”

 

 

Adrian said, “Do
you think we will
be able to start again?
We’ve lost
everything!”

 

 

“Not quite
everything. The
children are all still alive thanks
to Emer, and the workshops are still standing. We will rebuild. All
will come in the
fullness of time, my
son,” the Bishop said with a smile.

 

 

He patted Emer on
the head, said a
prayer over her, and then took his leave.