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The Highest of Hopes (Canadian Crossings)

By Susan Anne Mason

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There was no turning back now!
The shrill scream of the steam whistle signaled the locomotive’s departure from the last stop before they reached their ultimate destination of Toronto. Emma gripped the wooden arm rests until her fingers ached, though it did little to rid her body of the tension building within her. Perhaps it was due to stress and fatigue, but on this final stage of her long journey, a cloud doubt had crept in to plague her.
Had she made the worst mistake of her life, selling everything she owned to journey halfway across the world? For the first time since leaving England, Emma feared she might have.
Smoke billowed past the passenger car windows, momentarily masking her view of the scenic countryside and a sparkling blue lake amid the rolling countryside—not. Not quite as green scenic as the landscape in Wheatley, but certainly prettier than she’d imagined. Emma smoothed a hand over her stomach, which roiled with a mixture of anticipation and dread. She had no idea what to expect upon her arrival in Toronto, and the very real fear that she’d placed too great an importance on this trip continued to nag at her—as well as the uncomfortable feeling that she hadn’t really consulted with God before making her impulsive decision. What if Jonathan was right about giving her father fair warning before simply appearing on his doorstep? What if her father wanted nothing to do with her?
Emma leaned back and took a deep breath. Nothing would be gained by this tiresome worrying. Only time would tell whether her journey would be worth leaving everything behind—or not.
In the seat beside her, Jonathan slept with his head against the window. He still looked somewhat green, a color that seemed to haunt him since their ocean crossing. Who knew he would make such a poor sailor? Despite the doctor’s pronouncement that he was fine, their six-day sojourn in Halifax had done little to restore Jonathan’s equilibrium, and the extreme jostling of the train for the past two days had only exacerbated his condition. Because of the constant nausea, he’d barely been able to eat more than a few saltine crackers and tea and had slept most of the time.
A door opened at the far end of the car, and a man in a conductor’s uniform entered. He stopped at the first seat and requested to see the occupants’ tickets, as he’d done after every new stop.
Several rows ahead, a young girl slipped away from her mother and darted into the aisle. Despite the jerky movement of the train, the girl managed to race toward Emma, a grin of triumph lighting her face.
She came to an abrupt halt at Emma’s seat and stared with dancing eyes. “Hello. My name’s Sarah. I like your hat.”
Before Emma could reply, a bearded man approached. “Sarah, you must stay where your mama and I can see you.” He lifted the girl into his arms and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Come now. You can give the conductor our tickets.”
Sarah threw her arms around the man’s neck. “Then can I have some candy, Papa?”
The man chuckled, gazing at the child with such adoration that Emma’s throat tightened.
“If you promise to stay in your seat, you may have a peppermint,” he said.
Emma watched them until they disappeared from view, but the image of the man’s expression as he held his daughter remained seared in Emma’s mind, igniting a burgeoning seed of hope.
She’d traveled four thousand miles to receive a look such as that.
When the conductor reached them, Emma handed him the tickets. “How much longer until we reach Toronto?”
The man’s expression brightened as he met her inquiring gaze. He appeared to be a little older than Jonathan, perhaps twenty-five or so, but his uniform gave him an air of authority. “About three hours, miss. More or less.”
“Thank you.” She bit her bottom lip. Only three hours until she’d disembark in the city where Randall Moore had been living for the past twenty-two years. Twenty-two years that Emma had believed her father to be dead. Was she daft to come so far in search of him without writing first?
Jonathan seemed to think so. He’d tried to get her to postpone her trip until she’d contacted Randall. However, the fear that her father would reject her before she’d even had the chance to meet him had spurred her to take immediate action. A letter could be ignored, but it would be a lot harder to dismiss her when she was standing right in front of him.
“Are you all right, miss?” The conductor peered at her, a concerned frown wrinkling his brow. “You’re not feeling ill, I hope.” He glanced over at her companion, perhaps fearing she had succumbed to motion sickness as well.
Emma managed a smile. “I’m fine. Just a bit nervous is all.”
“Heartier than your husband, I see.” He chuckled as he punched their tickets.
“He’s not my husband,” Emma replied quickly. “Just a dear friend who was good enough to accompany me on this trip.”
Curiosity animated the man’s rugged features. “First time to Canada?”
“Yes.” She squeezed her gloved hands together on her lap. “I’m here to…visit some relatives I’ve never met before.”
The train jerked as it rounded a bend, and the conductor grabbed the back of the seat to steady himself. “I’m sure they must be as excited as you are. I know I would be to have such a lovely guest arriving.” He winked at her. “As much as I’d love to hear more, I’d best get back to work. Enjoy your stay in Toronto.” He tipped his cap and set off down the car.
“Already breaking hearts all over the country, I see.” Jonathan’s wry voice brought the heat to Emma’s cheeks.
“Don’t be silly. He was just being friendly. Like all the Canadians we’ve met so far.”
Jonathan opened one eye to give her a disbelieving look. “I doubt they’d be as friendly if I were traveling alone.”
“Go back to sleep, Grumpy Gus. You have three more hours until you’re free of this torture.”

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