The Hungry Heart Fulfilled (The Hunger of the Heart Series Book 3) (34 page)

 

 

“Thank you,
Governor, for all your
help. I’ll go to
the bank right
now, and then come back with the money to get everything
underway.”

 

 

The governor sat in
this study long
after Dalton had left, and then pulled out a piece of clean
paper. Perhaps
miracles did happen after
all. He would
file the appeal
himself, and see how far it got him.

 

 

Essentially a
kind-hearted man, he
could see Emer and Dalton had a rare love between them, and
had waited for each
other long enough.

 

 

It would be a grand
surprise for
both of them if he met with any success. And if he didn’t,
well, they need
never know he had tried and failed.

 

 

Dalton was
surprised and upset at
Emer’s attitude over him trying to better her conditions in
the jail.  She
gave away all of the food and
all but one each of the shirts and trousers he had brought
her, as well as all
the blankets.

 

 

“But Emer, those
things were for
you!” Dalton protested.

 

 

“What do I need
with more than two
pairs of clothes? And
I already
have a blanket.”

 

 

When Emer found out
that Terence was
to be moved in with O’Brien, she said, “But that’s ridiculous. We’re
fine as we
are, aren’t we,
Terence? You’re
both too big to
share the bed, and neither of you are any good at staying up
nights the way I
am. Thank you,
Governor, but
Terence and I are quite happy with the existing arrangements,
and I need no
special favours.”

 

 

Dalton was furious
when he
discovered that they were still sharing a room and the same
bed, and glowered
at her from under his black brows.

 

 

“Honestly,
sometimes I think you're
a stranger, Emer, even though I’ve known you so long.”

 

 

“People change,
Dalton.  I’ve
changed. And
just because you love a person,
doesn’t mean you own them, or can run their life as you see
fit,” Emer said a
trifle sharply.

 

 

“Are you saying you
don’t love me
any more? That you’ve fallen in love with Terence?”

 

 

She shook her head
and sat down on
the low bunk of her cell with a sigh. “No, just that my life
is here now. I
can’t allow myself to be distracted by false hopes, which will
only end up
leaving me bitter and disappointed if I cling to them and they
don’t come
true. Please,
Dalton, Terence and
O’Brien have opened up a whole new world for me, and have
supported me
throughout my whole prison reform idea.

 

 

“They went over the
sums, help me
worked out the flaws, they were my sounding boards, and
O’Brien was the one who
got the plans approved by the reformers in England, and
published in the
papers. I never
could have done it
without them. I'm not going to turn my back on them now just
because you're
here and want all my attention."

 

 

"That's
not true—"

 

 

“I can also see why
you’ve given the
governor the money to go ahead and buy the old Fitzgerald
place. You’re
banking on my getting a reprieve
based upon this work, aren’t you?

 

 

"Well, why
shouldn’t we include
Terence and O’Brien, and try to get their death sentences
commuted as well?
Seven years in Tasmania is nothing compared to being hung,
drawn and
quartered!” Emer argued forcefully.

 

 

“All right, Emer, I
do take your
point. I just
feel so helpless, so
left out of it all,” Dalton sighed, wearily sitting next to
her on the bed in
the tiny cell.

 

 

“You wouldn’t feel
that way if you
tried to become more involved.
Give of yourself, not just you money, but your
enthusiasm, and
dedication. And
it would also
help, Dalton, if you didn’t fly off the handle every time you
laid eyes on
Terence, or O’Brien for that matter, though he’s old enough to
be my father,”
Emer reprimanded.

 

 

“He’s only a few
years older than
me,” Dalton grunted.

 

 

“I've always loved
you, Dalton,
always. Please,
trust me?” Emer
requested as she kissed
Dalton on
the brow.

 

 

“I will try. And I
tell you what,
how would you like me to do the day shifts in the infirmary
while I'm here? I
am a doctor, after all.”

 

 

Emer frowned. “I sleep during the
day. I would
hardly get to see you.”

 

 

“I can keep you
company at night,
and so can the others. You’re
working
far too hard, but I’m here to share the burden now,” Dalton
said
reassuringly, stroking some damp tendrils of hair back from
her pale cheek with
gentle fingers.

 

 

“You’re so good to
me, Dalton. I
don’t deserve you.”

 

 

He gave a short
bark of laughter at
that. “I'm the
one who doesn't
deserve you, darling. My life was a wasteland before I met
you, Emer. You’ve
given me so much. It’s
the least I can do.”

 

 

Dalton pulled her
into his arms and
kissed her passionately, and Emer’s whole heart reached out to
him then as she
returned the kiss. Her heart ached with love for him, and she
longed to be his
once again in every respect.

 

 

The kiss seemed to
go on for an
eternity, with Dalton pulling her into the hard heat of his
body to show how
much he longed for her, needed her.

 

 

But they sprang
apart guiltily when
O’Brien entered the cell, clearing his throat too late to give
them fair
warning.

 

 

“Sorry to
interrupt, but Tommy Davis
is calling for you, Emer," O’Brien said flatly, avoiding
looking Emer in
the eye.

 

 

“I have to go now,
but I'll see you
later, if I may?” Emer asked softly, her head lingering on her
beloved's
shoulder.

 

 

“Just try getting
rid of me, my
love.” Dalton grinned. Stooping for a last quick kiss, he went
off to town to
get Emer some more medicines, and a few new dresses. At least she
couldn’t give
those
away to her fellow
inmates.

 

 

O’Brien was
noticeably sullen and
withdrawn that evening in the infirmary.

 

 

The silent state of
affairs lasted
for several hours, until Emer couldn't stand the distance
between them any
longer, and finally said to him, “All right, out with it. Tell me
what’s got
you so annoyed. I
can see it in your face, so don’t lie
to me, O’Brien.”

 

 

“I’m sorry. I have no right to
be angry. I want
you to do what's best for
you. God knows
you’ve suffered
enough, and deserved to be happy. You’re going to leave us, and I
don’t blame you. If I were you, I
would file an appeal
right now, and go.”

 

 

“But you’re not me,
O’Brien,” she
replied quietly.

 

 

He stared at her.
“Then you aren’t
going back to Canada?”

 

 

She shook her head. “No, I’m not. At
least not until
I’ve finished what I started here, and see you and Terence
through to the
end. I haven’t
filed an appeal
yet, and I refuse to do so until you and Terence and Meagher do
the same.”

 

 

“But, Emer....”

 

 

“No, you have a
very good case now,
after all you've done here in prison. I’ve told you before, you can
carry on in Tasmania. Who knows, if my
eventual appeal fails,
we’ll probably all be sent down there together. I’m not leaving,
O’Brien, I promise.”

 

 

“You would if you
knew what was good
for you, Emer,” he warned.

 

 

Emer grinned.
“Isn’t it a lucky
thing, then, that I lack common sense.”

 

 

“I am glad though. And I, well,
we
would have missed
you. I think you
know that.”

 

 

“You two have been
the greatest
friends a person could ever have, O’Brien, I want you to know
that now. I
would never have stayed sane in this
prison if it hadn’t been for you and Terence.” Emer patted him
on the shoulder.

 

 

“If we're friends then, Emer, can I
ask you
something? Why do
you always call
me by my last name only?” O’Brien queried quietly.

 

 

Emer sighed. “My father and son
were William
also. It is
still too painful to
remember them, that’s all. 
There’s no offence meant.”

 

 

“None taken, Emer. I understand now.”

 

 

Just then Terence
popped in the
door. “Come on,
I’ve haven’t seen
such sour faces since my Auntie May and her sister Edna sucked
a lemon half
apiece for a dare.”

 

 

“Why are you so
cheerful, Terence?”
Emer asked, smiling up at his handsome face.

 

 

“Because we’ve just
been told that
for Christmas Eve we are to have a special treat.”

 

 

“What’s that to be
then?” O’Brien
asked without curiosity.

 

 

“We’re all getting
a fine meal
cooked by the generous ladies of Clonmel, and then we are
going to be allowed
to have a dance in the exercise yard for a few hours, with
live musicians,”
Terence informed them.

 

 

“It won’t be much
of a dance without
ladies,” O’Brien remarked dryly.

 

 

“Ah well, Emer will
just have to
serve, and that reminds me, I’m claiming the first dance here
and now.”

 

 

Emer nodded and
giggled at the
swaggeringly exaggerated bow Terence made to her.

 

 

“Honestly, Terence,
what would I
ever do without you? You
always
make me laugh.”

 

 

“So long as we
don’t have to do
without you, Emer, I’m content,” Terence stroked her wayward
red hair.

 

 

Then he left the
infirmary to help
make arrangements for the big holiday celebration in a few
weeks’ time.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

 

 

Thus Emer and
Dalton settled into a
routine at Clonmel prison, spending as much time as they could
with each other,
but always in the company of the other inmates.

 

 

For Emer it was an
exquisite torture,
never being alone with her beloved, but often being forced to
sit side by side
pressed up against one another from knee to shoulder on a
wooden bench as they
poured over the plans for the prison farm.

 

 

Emer found
unexpected enthusiastic
support for her project from the Jenkinses, who also pledged
their help,
overseeing the building work and provisioning with careful
eyes, and who seemed
in no hurry to return to Canada.

 

 

“We like it here
with you, Emer, and
can honestly say that this would be a lovely town if only
someone were to take
it properly in hand, and rebuild here, just as you tried to do
at the
orphanage,” Captain Jenkins praised.

 

 

“Those empty
warehouses on the
western side of town would be ideal for workshops, and did you
know, the Suir
River they are built on goes right down to Waterford, and from
there out to
sea. If Dalton
gave his approval,
we could do some brisk trade right the way through these ports
to England and
even the Continent,” he said enthusiastically.

 

 

“You’re the ship
captain, Sam, so
you talk to Dalton about it, then, and Emily and I will do our
best to see
about the workshops, won’t we?
And
how is the soup kitchen coming, Emily?” Emer asked her friend.

 

 

“We open tomorrow,
and have all we
need to serve several hundred people a day for the rest of the
winter,” Emily
Jenkins said. “I have several
women hired to oversee
the work and do the cooking, and support from the town ladies
as well.”

 

 

“But I agree with
Emer, just feeding
them doesn’t always help, does it. For example, I’ve been thinking
that there are an awful
lot of young men
in this prison just rotting away,” the captain remarked. “Instead of
just
farming, why not hire
and train Irish crews for the Randall fleet?”

 

 

“Again, I think
it’s an excellent
idea, Sam, but that's Dalton’s area of expertise, not mine. Talk to
him about
it.”

 

 

Emer smiled at them
all, delighted
at how much progress they were making to help the Irish still
struggling in the
grip of the famine.

 

 

“And as for the
women, teach them
sewing and dressmaking skills, weaving, and so on,” Mrs.
Jenkins insisted.

 

 

“We would need
space for all that,
and no one is in a position to buy clothes these days anyway.”

 

 

“Well, the people
in the workhouses
and fever hospitals could always use them. The people would be
learning a skill,
and helping others.”

 

 

“Dalton is the one
who hold the
purse strings, so talk to him.”

 

 

Dalton, to his
credit, said yes to
all their ideas, and so the three weeks until Christmas flew
by as they busily
carried out all their new plans.

 

 

Emer was reassured that the prison
overcrowding would come to
an end on New Year’s Day, when some of the men would be
transported to Botany
Bay, and the rest who had been given approval were to be
transferred to the new
prison farm and taught carpentry and blacksmithing until the
weather improved
and they could begin planting.