His dark eyesstared at me unblinking. “At what cost?”
“Whateverit takes.”
He was stillunsure, I could tell. But Henry inhaled deeply and stood, taking myhand and helping me to my own feet at his side. A long, gentle kisswas placed on my forehead and he held me tight to him. “Let’s goeat.”
He wasn’tretreating. A good sign. I held on to that thought and gave him asmile. “Yeah, let’s go eat.”
***
Supper wassomething that Lottie called stone soup. As I prepared my rosemarybuns for the oven, she told me a story of how the dish came to be.In small villages where people sometimes struggle to feed theirfamilies, each house would be tasked to bring one item to thecenter of town where a giant cauldron could be found boiling overan open fire. A potato here, a carrot there. And a stone for goodmeasure. A giant pot of soup would be made, and everyone would befed. I smiled at the tale as I placed the buns over the oven’sfire.
“How’sthe baby doing today?” Lottie asked me.
“Good,” Itold her and took a seat on a wooden stool. “It’s quiet most of thetime, but I’m only just out of the first trimester. I should feelsome kicking in the months to come.” My friend’s brow crinkled inconfusion and I realized I was using modern terms again. Somethingthey often got annoyed with. “Uh, first trimester. The first threemonths of a pregnancy.”
Lottie noddedin understanding. “I sometimes forget you’re from the future, youknow,” she admitted and came to sit next to me. “Then you speaksuch strange things and I’m quickly reminded.” Her hand patted myknee. “If I could lend you some words of caution, it would be towatch your tongue once we arrive at our destination.”
“What?Why?”
“Newfoundland is a more relaxed, smaller version of wherewe’re going,” she began, carefully choosing her terms. She pursedher lips in thought before proceeding. “It’s just… people scareeasily. Anything new, anything different. Women have been hung forwitchcraft for far less than a few words.”
My stomachdropped at the realization of what my friend was trying to tell me.“I see.”
“I justwant to you be careful,” she replied. “Be safe.”
Smiling, Iaccepted her intent. “I will.”
Just then, theswinging kitchen door flung open and Finn barged in, sniffing theair. “When’s the grub goin’ to be ready?”
Lottie stoodand went to check the giant pot of steaming soup. “Soon.” Shegrabbed some bowls and handed them to the giant Scotsman. “Set thetables.”
“Set thetables?” he balked and eyeballed the stack of bowls thrust into hishands. “What do I look like? A bloody servant girl?”
Lottie stoodwith her hands on her hips, face unwavering. “You look like someonewho has two hands. And if you want any of the food I’ve beenslaving all day to make, then you’ll do as I say.”
I triedto stifle a laugh as Finn and Lottie locked into a staring contest,one that he lost before it even began. I then watched as hisbearded face wrinkled with a massive grin. “Aye, good thingI likesye.”
She rolled hereyes. “Lucky me.”
Finn exitedthrough the swinging doors and I helped Lottie hoist the giant potof soup onto a rolling cart that Gus had made for her. I oftenwondered when they’d just admit their feelings for one another andget on with it. He was always silently courting her.
I rememberedwhen he made the cart, a simple thing, really. I was roaming thedecks one night, unable to sleep with Henry’s tossing and turning.He was on watch that night, but the water was calm and the skyclear. He was whittling the wheels out of scrap wood we had down inthe hold.
When I askedhim what he was making, he responded with a short and final replyof ‘wheels’. The next morning, Lottie woke up to homemade wheelsfashioned into a trolley with a shallow wooden crate on top. Hercheeks flushed a rosy pink, but she refused to talk about it.
I watched theirmodest courtship from afar for too long. I felt like playingdevil’s advocate today. Peering down at the wooden trolley and thesteaming pot that sat in it, I said, “This thing sure is handy,hey?”
Lottie stoppedto grab a handful of spoons. “Yes, it certainly makes my jobeasier.”
“That wasnice of Gus to make it for you.” I caught a slight pause in herbody and her gaze purposely avoided mine. “He really seems to likeyou. It’s been months. Do you not feel the same forhim?”
She huffed ahot breath of air and stood with her hands on her hips. “Yes, Iquite like him. There. Is that enough? Now let it be.”
She pushed onthe cart, but I stood in front of it. “Why is it such a touchysubject for you? Has Gus… did he do something?”
Lottie’sface twisted in offense. “Goodness, no.”
“Thenwhat is it? Why won’t you guys just be together?”
“I’vetried,” she replied. “He won’t.”
Confused,I asked, “What? You mean–” I shook my head, “sorry, I thought Guswas intoyou.”
“Heis.”
Now I wasbeyond confused. “Lottie, you gotta give me more informationthan that.”
I could senseher irritation with me, but she never said anything about it. Myfriend was a quiet and private person, that much I knew long ago.But I told her everything. She knew all about Henry’s dark secretand the struggle I was going through.
“Augustusis a wonderful man,” she began. “I’m quite fond of him. He’s sweet,kind, and handsome.” The hem of her apron fiddled in herfingertips. “But I…”
“What?You want more?”
“No, onthe contrary,” she informed me. “It’s he who wants more from me.”Lottie’s pale cheeks flushed pink once again as she seemed torecall a memory. “I kissed him one day.”
My eyebrowsraised, and I smiled. “Really? And he wanted to go further?”
“Yes, butnot in the sense that you think,” she spoke uncomfortably. “Beforewe go any further, Augustus wishes to be married.” The last wordcarried with it a heavy sense of distaste.
Ilaughed. “God, Gus is so old-fashioned.” Then I remembered that he reallywasn’t. Not for that time. “But that’s really sweet. Is that, um,not what you want?”
“I’m notsure,” she admitted. “I never gave much thought to the possibility.I’m a pirate, through and through.”
“Yeah,but that doesn’t mean you can’t be married.”
She shrugged.“I suppose not.”
“Look,just keep doing what you’re doing. You
