Throughout dinner, Miss Brigham watched Hector. He sat with his niece on one side and Wendell on the other. They discussed the repairs to his boat, young Wendell gesturing wildly with his hands. Miss Brigham didn't understand most of it, nor did she care. She only cared about watching the way the light from the fire highlighted Hector's firm jaw and taught muscles.
She sighed as she thought of him leaving soon. As much as she wanted to go with him, she couldn't leave the children. They were her responsibility. Reverend Crane had made it very clear that her sole purpose in life was to care for the children. Even with the reverend dead, she couldn't abandon them now. They were all just as adorable as the rabbits in the stew had been, even the chubby ones.
She hoped to get a moment alone with Hector before bed, but Samantha never left his side. She couldn't fault the girl for wanting to be near her uncle, especially since she had spent the last five years not knowing who she was, the poor child. Miss Brigham might not remember her parents, but she had always known who she was.
In a way she was grateful she couldn't get Hector alone. She wasn't quite sure what to say to him. She had tried to rehearse a speech in her head, but it never worked out. Even in her own mind her tongue would get lost and she would start to ramble like an idiot, just as she did through most of the sermons. She never set out to ramble, but her mind would just start to wander in the middle of something, sending her off onto some dreadful tangent-
She coaxed herself to think again of what to say to Hector. She loved him, that much she knew. But to a man like him she was like one of the children, a silly little girl with a head full of foolish dreams. Somehow she had to convince him she was a mature woman and then-
Then what? She couldn't very well marry him, not if she were staying here. Nor could she expect him to forsake the wonders of the mainland to stay on this dreadful island, not for her. She was just a scatter-brained girl with this unruly red hair and all these blasted freckles that made her look younger than her eighteen years.
Even after everyone had gone to bed, Miss Brigham couldn't stop thinking about the situation. She tossed and turned on her pew until she finally fell onto the floor. Rebecca opened her eyes. "Are you all right?"