“Most.”
She sighed. “I’m very glad.”
“What of you? Happy?”
“Most.”
“How did you know I was here? Last I heard you were in England.”
“I received a circular with the morning papers. ‘Come hear war hero Hamilton Lightfoot.’”
He shook his head. “Hyperbole to arouse interest. So, do you live in New York?”
“We moved here four years ago. Wallace always dreamed of owning a farm in America. We bought land on the Hudson. He has cousins here who started a growing venture, so he joined them.” Esther removed a flyer from her bag. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw your name. Surely it was not my—rather, the same Hamilton Lightfoot. I had no idea you’d become a preacher.”
“It was redemption a long time in the making.” He examined the pamphlet. “This is the work of Dinsmore, no doubt.”
“Dinsmore? Charles Dinsmore? You know him?”
“We were at King’s Mountain and Cowpens together.”
“But of course,” Esther said. “He spoke of the war, but I never concluded—”
“You know him as well?” Hamilton said.
“Yes, he’s well acquainted with my... husband. They’ve formed a gentlemen’s club together. You should join them.”
“We leave tomorrow,” Hamilton said. “My wife is with child and—”
A door opened and closed, footsteps resounded on the stone floor. Lydia. Hamilton rose to greet her.
“Lydia.” He offered his arm. “May I introduce my friend, Esther Longfellow—”
“’Tis Hobart now.”
“Mrs. Esther Hobart.”
“How do you do?” Lydia’s hand rested on her round belly. “I didn’t know you knew anyone in Manhattan, love.”
“We’re old friends. From South Carolina.”
Lydia stepped a little closer to him. He’d have some explaining to do later. While she knew of his exploits in the war, he’d never spoken to her of Esther, choosing to leave his failure with her behind.
“We have a farm.” Esther motioned to the west. “Well, my husband is trying to have a farm. So far we’ve found success.”
“I wish you all the luck.” Lydia slipped her arm through Hamilton’s.
“Esther and I grew up together in South Carolina. Before the war.”
“He rarely speaks of the war or his life before,” Lydia said. “Pardon my ignorance.”
“You are with child,” Esther said. “When is your time?”
“In three months. We’re going home to prepare.”
Hamilton looked at Esther. “Did you know your father returned Quill to us right before he died.”
“No, I’d not heard,” Esther said. “But I’m very glad. Father’s last days were turbulent, but he’s at peace now.”
