He cocked his head as if to ensure his collar stayed in place. This might be the only day they had together. He didn’t want something like inconvenient truths ruining it.
Again, she stretched, and he jerked a little.
“See, Wycliff, you’re jumpy, too.”
“I suppose.” He checked his collar. It still covered his scars. Returning his arm about her, he eased her against him.
“Are they still looking at us?”
He swiveled his head. “Yes. But they’ll say nothing. They’ve made up in their minds that we are a family. Good strangers.”
“You look very natural with Chris.”
“I had an excellent father. I’ll be a good one to him, my son.”
She stopped looking up at Wycliff.
Maybe he’d said too much. But this was his truth. The truthteller needed to hear it.
“Hold to my leg, young man. I think your mother needs a bigger hug.”
“Wycliff, I’m fine.”
“Maybe I’m not. It’s been several months since I’ve been on a vessel. My time wasn’t happy. I was angry and grieving. It was hard.”
Her hand closed about his.
With an arm about her waist, he dipped his chin, resting upon her bonnet. “I suppose we need each other right now. Listen to the waves, Ruth. They are lapping against the boat. Take deep breaths. Smell how fresh the air is. So different than London.”
Ruth curled more into him. “Yes, different. Not like the docks.”
Wycliff was at peace being a friend to Ruth and Christopher. It was the first time he’d felt that way since returning.
Wasn’t this how things were supposed to be, them against the world?
Christopher climbed up on the bench and forced his way onto Wycliff’s lap. “Tell me now about my daddy. Gama says you knew him.”
“Chris, this isn’t the place.”
Her tone sounded panicked, but she had nothing to fear. Wycliff would make himself sound great.
“Your father loved boats. All kinds of boats: big ones, small ones, blue ones.”
“I like blue,” Christopher said.
“And he was brave, little Wilky. One time he and his papa, they sailed on a river. And Ad… and your father caught a big fish, bigger than him. It was a big, stinky fish.”
“I like big fish. Not stinky ones. What else? Was he nice?”
“He was and brave, too. The bravest. And he loved your mother more than anything. He didn’t do everything right, but he did what was in his heart.”
Ruth blinked her heavy lashes.
From the smile on her face, Wycliff knew he did good.
Chris yanked on his cravat. “But why did he have to die? I want to play with him.”
Wycliff closed his eyes. This question was trouble. There was no easy answer to this, especially since he was not dead.
