“Sometimes I feel that way too.” Rummaging in the hidden pocket of her skirt, Gabby found a rumpled handkerchief and handed it over. “But in the end I feel better after I talk about it.”
Clutching the linen, Max blurted, “I ruined the play.”
“No, you didn’t. The play was ever so good. All the parents thought so—”
“I was the only one who didn’t get it right. I never getanythingright.”
Gabby’s heart squeezed. “That’s not true, dear.”
“I’m not like Fiona.” Tears swam in his dark eyes. “Papa loves her best because she’s good at everything.”
“Oh, Max.” Gabby put an arm around her youngest’s slumped shoulders, and he didn’t pull away. “You and Fi are different, as siblings often are. But that doesn’t mean one is better than the other. Papa loves you both equally.Ilove you both.”
“You have to say that because you’re my mama,” Max sniffled.
“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Gabby said firmly. “You and Fiona are both my angels, and I’m the luckiest mama in the entire world.”
“Truly? You truly think that?”
“Truly, my dearest.”
Max let out a hiccupping sigh. “I’m glad Papa wasn’t here tonight to see me make a hash of things. And to see me blubbering like a babe. You won’t tell him, will you, Mama? Promise me you won’t.”
After a hesitation, Gabby said, “I promise. But there’s no shame in making a mistake, my lamb. Everyone does...Ido, certainly. It’s part of life.”
“Papa and Fiona never make mistakes.”
“They do. They’re just more…”—she struggled to find the right words—“poised about it.”
“Why can’t I be like them, Mama?” Max said glumly.
The pain in her child’s eyes made her throat swell. “Because you are yourself, Max. You’re a good boy, and that is what counts.”
“I hope you’re right.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“I’m positive that I am. Do you know what else I know?”
“What?”
“You’ll feel better if you join the others for refreshments.” She ruffled her son’s dark curls, dislodging a few stray leaves. “Cook made your favorite lemon cake.”
Rising, she held out her hand. After a quivery sigh, Max reached out, his small fingers curling around hers. Together they went to join their guests.
9
From the prowof the anchored boat, Adam monitored the situation on the dock. The fighting had just started; as far as he could tell, neither side had the upper hand. Mayhem ruled the night with gunfire, smoke, and the shouts of brawling men.
In other words, just another day at the office.
Murray emerged from the fray, jumping onto the boat’s deck. Gunpowder streaked his clothes, a shallow cut upon his cheek.
“What’s causing the delay?” Adam asked.
“Sweeney’s got an army,” Murray said through harsh breaths. “They outnumber us.”
Adam removed a pair of pistols from his pockets. Cocked them.
Murray’s brows inched up. “Youare going in? Are you certain you want to do that?”
