Hallie would include Dagny or one of the children when she thanked the men, and Kit used those moments to watch each one of the Fredriksen offspring. They stood like statues; the twins, their attention turned to the large group of whalers; Liv, tight-lipped, silent, and rooted to Hallie’s side; and Dagny, who appeared to be looking right through everyone.
As the last crewman walked off, Kit approached Hallie. He touched her elbow and she looked up. Her expression, for once, was unreadable. “We need to talk. How are you and the children getting back to the house?”
“The Treadwells brought us in their carriage. It’s right over there.” She turned and pointed. It was tied to a split-rail fence that separated the semaphore telegraph station from the slopes of the cemetery.
Pastor Treadwell intervened. “We’ll take them home, Mr. Howland. Will you be coming back to the house?”
“Captain Prescott and I came on horseback,” Kit answered. “We’ll meet you there.”
One of the twins came rushing over and began to jump up and down. “Can I go with you? Can I? Can I?”
“I wanna go too! Hallie, pleeease,” the other identical one whined.
“Boys, come on,” Hallie said, but the twins just kept pleading and leaping.
Kit squatted down face level with the twosome and they turned their hopeful faces toward him. He could not, for the life of him, tell them apart. He looked at the one he thought was the first to speak. “Which one are you?”
“Gunnar.”
“All right, Gunnar.” Kit poked the other boy gently. “Let’s see, then you must be Knut?”
“Uh-huh. Can I go too?”
“I think you should go with your sisters.”
“But we never got to ride a horse afore,” Gunnar argued.
“If you two go with your sisters and the Treadwells today, I’ll come by on the next warm day and take you both for a ride. How’s that?”
The boys looked at each other and then at Kit. They appeared to be judging his integrity, with their serious little faces eyeing him so thoroughly. Apparently, he had an honest look, because they whispered for a moment and then agreed.
The boys scurried off to the carriage and Kit straightened. Hallie stepped forward. “Thank you. You don’t have to keep your promise. I’ll make some excuse for you.”
She wouldn’t look at him, and though he resented talking to the top of her bonnet, he answered anyway. “Don’t be silly. I want to take them for a ride.”
“Oh.” She raised her head, and it looked as if she now stared at his collar.
“I’ll be along as soon as I talk to the crew.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’?” Kit snapped. “We need to talk about your father’s plans for you.”
“For me?”
“For all of you.” Kit was getting irritated.
“You don’t have to worry about us. You have no duty toward us. We can take care of ourselves.” Hallie started to walk away.
“Hallie, stop.”
She didn’t, so he muttered the word ‘pig-headed.’
That stopped her. Her head shot up and she stared right at him. “Pigheaded?” she repeated.
What the hell was he doing?They were standing at her father’s gravesite. He ran his hand through his hair and said, “Look, I’m sorry, but we’ve got some things we need to settle as soon as possible.”
“Not today,” she said.
