Far Horizons Read Online Free PDF Page B

with the proof of his prosperity in his hand.
    He shook his head. Who knew when that would be. It seemed like a dim, distant dream at this moment, with the shadows of doubt and regret threatening to overwhelm him. A bone-deep weariness settled over him, and he sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, longing for things to be different. For Campbell to have agreed, for Harriet to be his, for his future to be as bright and unfettered as his father’s. The candle had burned down to a waxy stub before Allan finally took parchment and ink and began to write.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    Dawn streaked across the sky in pale, pink fingers when Allan finally stirred. Every bone and muscle ached as he gazed blearily around the room at the inn where he’d fallen asleep over his letter to Harriet, his head pillowed on his arms, the stub and splattered wax of a burned-out candle by his elbow.
    He heard the creak of floorboards, and then his sister Margaret’s dark head appeared around the doorway. Allan smiled at the sight of her dark eyes full of hope and a bit of mischief, even though the ache in his heart felt as if it could cripple him.
    “Allan!” Margaret hurried forward at the sight of him still in his clothes from last night, no doubt looking the worse for wear now. “Have you been here all night?”
    “I suppose I have.” Allan glanced down at the letter he'd been writing, each word drawn from his very soul. The ink on that precious page felt like his own blood.
    “You’ve let the candle out,” Margaret scolded gently. “You could’ve caught fire. The whole inn could've gone up in flames!”
    “But it didn't.” Allan covered the letter with his nad and smiled at his sister. “Out for one of your dawn walks?”
    “I...” Margaret bit her lip. Clearly she hadn't realised that anyone had known about her private jaunts. “I just wanted some fresh air.”
    “You can't fool me, Margaret,” Allan said. “I suspect you'll be glad to have a little freedom, with us all gone.”
    Margaret blushed, and Allan guessed he had the truth of it.
    Boarding with the Campbells and keeping Harriet company would provide Margaret with some female companionship she’d missed living at Mingarry Farm with all of her brothers. “I expect you’d like to listen to Rupert’s lessons as well.”
    “And what if I would?” Margaret challenged, her dark eyes flashing.
    Allan sat back, startled. He’d been teasing, even though he knew Margaret had always had a head for books. She’d had little learning, though, besides the reading, writing, and arithmetic they’d all done as children. Allan and Archie had both been tutored at Mingarry Farm until they were fifteen and started work on the farm. As a girl, Margaret had never had such access to education. Did she hope for it now, Allan wondered, away from the stern hand of her father? He decided not to ask.
    “I expect you can accomplish whatever you set your hand to,” he said lightly, and Margaret gave him a quick smile of gratitude.
    “I'll miss you, Allan,” she said, her expression turning serious. “And I shall make sure Harriet waits for you. She would never go back on her promise, no matter what Father says.”
    “I pray not.” Allan gazed down at the letter it had taken him most of the night to complete. “But that's not Father's point. It's not right for me to bind her, when my future's so uncertain. I did it out of selfish reasons, because I love her so much. What if I took ill, or died? I can't tie Harriet in that way, not when I have so few prospects of my own.” He spoke the words by rote, for although he knew they were true, he didn’t feel them. He felt as if he wanted to run all the way to Achlic Farm and sweep Harriet up in his arms and never let her go. Yet he needed to obey both Harriet’s father and his own. Trust and obey. Allan sighed heavily. “She must be allowed to find her own way,” he told Margaret, “and choose her