Cynda Denaud Williams swept onto the patio and caressed Wake’s right arm as she leaned over and embraced him, her bosom, mostly exposed by her low-cut dress, only inches from his eyes.
Saunders tried not to laugh as Wake recovered from the shock of seeing the woman he had rescued from enemy territory near the end of the war. At the time he had fallen for her damsel-in-distress portrayal, even briefly starting to fall under her sexual spell until he came to his senses. She was a woman who could make men believe—and do—anything, and Wake couldn’t imagine that she had changed. Even though it had been eight years since he had last seen her in Key West she looked exactly the same—a beautiful blonde with a perfect figure and a honey-dipped voice.
“Ah, hello, Mrs. Williams,” Wake said. “It is truly quite a surprise. I knew you had gone to Por Fin but didn’t expect to see you here in San Juan.”
“Oh, Peter. We know each other far too well for such formalities.” She brushed away a lock of his brown hair and touched the scar on his right temple. “If you call me anything other than Cynda I do declare I shall cry. You don’t want to make me cry, do you, Peter?”
Saunders held up a hand. “It’s my fault, Cynda. I forgot to tell him you were here in San Juan and would be with us for lunch. Now sit down, dear, while I explain. By the way, Peter, Cynda is no longer named Williams.”
Wake wondered whom she had hooked. “Oh?”
Saunders laughed. “Yes. Her divorce came through last year and we married in October. Her last name is Saunders now.”
“Oh . . . well, Jonathan,” stammered Wake, stunned by the news and worried for his friend. “I certainly am surprised yet again. You never mentioned this the last time we met, or in your letters.”
“Yes, well,” Saunders chuckled, “we just became serious this last summer, Peter.”
“Then another toast is in order,” said Wake as the old waiter poured the lady’s wine. “To your life shared together. May it bring health, wealth, and love, and all the time to enjoy them.”
“Oh, Peter, that was so very beautiful. Thank you,” gushed Cynda, clutching both Wake’s and her new husband’s arms as she sat between them. “Now, you simply must tell us how your life has been going for the last few years. Please start with your lovely wife, Linda.”
“Linda’s doing just fine with the children in our house in Pensacola. Sean is growing up fast and learning all kinds of new things, and Useppa is having fun playing the big sister. She’s eight years old now, almost nine, and actually becoming a real help to Linda. Sean is six.”
Saunders asked, “How is little Useppa’s leg doing? Were the doctors able to help her?”
It was a subject that broke Wake’s heart. His little princess had pain in her lower right leg, making her limp and also causing some of the other children to make fun of her.
“We’ve had her to several doctors, but they can’t determine what’s wrong, much less how to correct it. One suggested a heavy brace, but the others said that would make it worse. Linda and I are really worried for her.”
Cynda squeezed his arm with obvious empathy. “Oh, Peter. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you, Cynda. The good news is that Useppa’s young and strong. So there’s still a lot of time for her to get help. Say, how’s your little sister Mary Alice doing?”
“She married a man named Pickett, of the famous family, and lives in Virginia. You heard about those scamps, the Yard Dogs?”
Three former soldiers who had formed a minstrel troupe in Key West, the Yard Dogs had been friends of Wake during the war. They had been playing during the infamous tavern brawl of 1864, which was inadvertently started by Wake while defending the honor of his squadron. He escaped, seriously hurt, and was nursed overnight by a prostitute—he couldn’t remember her name—but the Yard Dogs had ended up in the Key West jail. It was a fact they later used to get rum out of him. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see them in Key West when I was there lately. What’s happened?”
“Run out of Key West for a while by the Monroe County sheriff.” Cynda shook her head. “Those boys got into one bar fight too many at Schooner’s Wharf. Now they’re reduced to playing at fish camps along the Gulf coast. More their style, if you ask me.”
Wake laughed. “Kip was always a good one at rousing the crowd, no doubt on it. Of course, Charlie and Brian were no slouches either. They’ll be back once the sheriff calms down.”
“So how’s the naval career going?” interrupted Saunders. He was an old seaman and always interested in naval matters. “I hear the American navy’s going downhill fast. Is that true?”
“The navy? Well, it’s surely not what it was during the war, or even doing well compared to the Latin American navies now.”
Saunders sighed. “Peter, I’ve got to let you know that the Spanish leadership around here is joking about the American navy. They’re upset that Madrid backed down last month and are saying the yanquis don’t have the strength anymore to push them around. Heard some ugly stuff coming from them. Guess they thought I’d be sympathetic, so they were very candid.”
“Well, they’re right about our fleet,” Wake admitted. “But you know, that mess in Cuba at Santiago last month where the Spanish government shot our merchant seamen got the attention of some of the leadership in Congress when they found out how ill prepared we are. The president sent Admiral Porter down to Key West for a while, gathering up ships from the Med and the local squadron for a battle fleet, but fortunately the Spanish did back down.
“I was with the fleet at Key West and I admit I was scared
