She buried her face in her hands as wave after wave of silent sobs shook her body. The aching in her chest and throat was raw, and she didn’t know if she could bear it. A part of her wanted to simply give up. But she forced herself to release her grief, even though it was excruciating, and prayed that the pain of it would eventually diminish.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, “I’ve blamed you for so long, figured you didn’t care. But I’m guessing you care even more about the lost ones than I do, that you’re feeling the sorrow right well enough, but that you keep on loving.”

Was that what she needed to do—let her sorrow increase her ability to love?

“Mercy?”

She sat up with a start. Gulping back her sobs, she swiped at her cheeks at the same time that she glanced over her shoulder.

It was Joseph. He stood only a few paces away with his chest rising and falling as though he’d been running. His hat was gone and his hair mussed. He looked in the direction of the harbor and the wharf before turning back to her. “You might not want to see me again, but I was aboard the steamer and noticed you by the wharf.”

She slid off the boulder and wiped her cheeks once more. Joseph had seen her? And then followed her here? She turned to face him but couldn’t speak past a new ache in her throat.

“I’ll go back if you would rather be by yourself.” As he studied her, his eyes widened with concern. “What happened? Why are you upset?”

She wanted to ask him why he was still here, why he wasn’t on board the Tynemouth, only she couldn’t formulate the words. Instead, more tears slipped down her cheeks.

He took a step closer to her, then stopped. “Please, Mercy, tell me what’s wrong.”

She held out his letter and the ring as if they explained everything.

“You read my note.” His handsome face appeared haggard with dark circles under his eyes.

She shook her head. “I tried,” she finally managed to say, “except I can’t read but a few words here and there.”

“I’m sorry. I should have realized . . .”

“It’s alright.” She knew she ought to feel embarrassed, even ashamed by her admission, but somehow it didn’t matter.

“It doesn’t say much.” His attention dropped to the ring she now wore on her finger. “I just wanted you to have Sarah’s ring. But I apologize if it upset you.”

There was so much she wanted to tell him, about finally facing her past, about releasing all the pain, and yet she didn’t know where to start and wasn’t sure if she could get the words past the tightness in her throat.