Emma Lane Read Online Free Page B

fishing,” Ethan said firmly. “It is too nice a day to always be working. Besides aren’t you hungry for fresh trout for your dinner?” He smiled at his parent who had been eating his breakfast and reading his paper.
    “Oh, well, yes. Trout would be nice. Just thought you would go over — no, never mind. You go fishing. Those cottages will not be built all in one day anyway. No need to press yourself.” His father blustered a minute more, shook his newspaper, and subsided behind it.
    Ethan had been home for three weeks. It seemed every day that his father relied more and more on him and involved himself less and less in the running of the estate. It worried Ethan some. Was his father ill or just tired? No matter. He was enjoying learning and reacquainting himself with the acreage, the fertile fields, the tenants, and the cattle his father raised. Ethan had to learn the names of the tenants all over again. Six years was a long time. Things changed, children were born, old folks died. He knew he himself had undergone a big change.
    War did something to young men, he thought as he gathered his fishing gear together. They left home full of patriotism and visions of heroism. Then they come home beaten and disillusioned, if not wounded, and mentally discouraged. He could not bring his spirits up from the depths to which they had sunk after his encounter with Sarah Louise.
    He had met her parents once. They skirted around the topic of their daughter. Apparently she lived most of the time in London with her aunt. There was no mention of a marriage, but that didn’t mean anything. Probably he was not even invited to the ceremony.
    Today he walked through the woods with a certain contentment. The path was familiar and dear to him. He could hear in the distance the gurgle of the cold stream where trout basked in the sun light and jumped at hovering flies. As he broke out of the trees he could see a figure, it looked like a young boy, sitting still on the bank. The figure’s fishing line stretched to the middle of the stream.
    His heart skipped, and he paused, so familiar to him was the figure. He deliberately stilled his pulse, telling himself that time did not stand still. If only…It had to be one of the tenant’s children, and he moved quietly up behind him.
    “Ethan, I can hear you. You are like a horse stomping through the brush. Not a single fish will bite with all that noise.”
    Ethan stumbled backwards with surprise. He regained his footing and settled on the bank beside Sarah, who was casting wide across the water. Neither said anything as they fished contentedly. Sarah pulled in two medium-sized trout, and he landed one large one.
    “Not enough for us both. You want to keep going?” he asked. “Or will you come to supper?”
    “Let us keep going for a while longer,” she said, just as her line dipped in the water. The fish was huge. Sarah stood and walked a little way down the bank. Ethan smiled to see the familiar trousers, but he was disappointed to notice that this time she wore shoes.
    “Hold on, Sarah. Ease up a bit. You are going to break the line,” he cautioned.
    She turned to glare at him.
    “All right. I am sorry. I know you know how to — good God! That is the biggest trout I have ever seen. Hang on, Sarah!” She was pulling with all her strength.
    Ethan ran down the bank with a hand net and grabbed the fish as he flipped out of the water. Sarah ran down to join him gurgling with glee at her catch. They pulled the large trout out and got him settled in one of the buckets filled with water. Sarah threw herself down on the grassy bank and hooted with laughter.
    “I caught old George!” she crowed. “I did it!”
    Ethan stood, looking down into the bucket as if he could not believe his eyes.
    “How much do you think he weighs?” Ethan said.
    Sarah stood up and came to his side. “A lot. I’m starting to feel guilty. He must be years old to be so big. Should I throw him back?”
    “No! We