Chapters (71)
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Part Two
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Part Three
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Part Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Part Five
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
Emma smiled at him, her green eyes sparkling, and it seemed to Blackie that there was a new spring in her step as they walked toward the crest.
An observer and a fiend when it came to detail, Blackie had taken everything in: The old, worn black coat, which had obviously seen better days but was neatly patched. The old black boots, highly polished, and the old shawl around her shoulders, darned here and there. But all were scrupulously clean. Her face beneath the shawl was scrubbed and shining, but it was those green eyes that caught his attention, and her lovely features. She had a thin, pinched look, but in a year or two she would be a beautiful young woman. There was no question about that.
Filled with interest, he asked, “And do ye have any brothers and sisters, Emma?”
“Aye, I do. Two brothers. Winston, who wants to join the Royal Navy, and me dad won’t let him go yet. Me mam’s not well, and Dad says if Winston runs off, it’ll be the last nail in her coffin.” Emma let out a sigh, and finished, “And there’s my younger brother, Frank, who’s clever. He’d like ter be a writer on a newspaper. One day. But I don’t know how he’ll manage that.”
“He could go ter night school like I did,” Blackie said swiftly, wanting to cheer her up. She suddenly looked so sad.
Instantly, a smile flashed across her face. “Will ye tell me how to make that happen later?”
“It’ll be my pleasure, Emma. I want ye ter know I’ll help ye any way I can.” He looked down at her and added, “I believe we’re going to become good friends, and that pleases me.”
“And it pleases me too. I’ve never had a real friend before, and I’m glad it’s you, Blackie O’Neill.”
Fifty-One
The two of them walked toward the crest of the hill in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Emma was dwelling on her mother’s ill health; Blackie was focusing on the repair work he had to do at Fairley Hall: chimneys, flues and some outside walls between the stables. Five days’ work and several extra, if needed. Good money, though. That was important.
Unexpectedly, Emma laughed and started to run, shouting over her shoulder, “I’m going ter yon gate!”
He smiled as he watched her flying across the field. When she arrived at the white-painted gate, she unlatched it, stood on it and swung forward, laughing once more as she went backward and forward, enjoying herself.
When Blackie joined her, he said, “Here, let me give ye a good push!” He did this several times, delighted that she was having fun in a girlish manner.
A few moments later, she jumped off the gate, and said, “We got ter get moving, Blackie. I don’t want ter be late.”