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“I…I cannot lose you as well.”
Joseph’s throat swelled, and he coughed to let his answer free, but still he couldn’t speak. Only eleven years old and already the boy had been made to suffer far too much. Losing both parents in the same day only months ago… Joseph allowed his vision to linger no longer than a second on the neatly pinned pant leg that covered the place Jacob’s knee and lower leg should have been. Joseph took the cup from Jacob’s grasp and held the boy’s hands in one of his. His other he placed behind Jacob’s neck with a gentle grip. Binding his gaze with his nephew’s, he strained his voice to keep it from wavering. “I shall think of you every day until I return. I shall return. I promise.”
“If I had my leg, I could go with you.” The boy’s eyes reddened with tears. “We wouldn’t have to be parted. I could fight alongside you and—”
“Jacob…” Joseph checked his words before speaking them, every immediate response lacking the true depth of feeling that pressed in his chest. He smoothed his hand down to Jacob’s shoulder and lowered his tone. “I would be honored to fight alongside you. You are fearless, Jacob. I have never known anyone so brave.” He released his hold on the boy and straightened, allowing a half smile on his lips. “You would send those Redcoats running, I have no doubt of that.”
Grinning wide, the red in Jacob’s eyes dimmed to pink. “I’m a good shot too.”
“You’re an excellent shot.”
His face beamed. “Aye? Excellent?”
“Near as good as I, and I’m almost twenty years older.”
“Aye, but no one fights like you.” Jacob’s smile broadened. “You could lick a whole lot of Lobsterbacks all on your own.”
Joseph laughed at the well-intended compliment. Growing up, he had been forced to learn how to defend himself against this boy’s very father and earned a reputation for strength he’d rather not have gained. Suddenly he debated his previous wisdom in having shared even abridged versions of the scrapes of his youth.
Winking, Joseph sat back. “Perhaps I need not fight at all. Perhaps those Redcoats will take one look at the militia and sail right back to England, hmm?”
“These turnovers are just right.”
Kitty entered between their conversation, swirling steam rising from the fresh-baked goods on the tray she carried. She rested the vittles beside the coffee, the scent of such delicious food making Joseph’s stomach emit a loud grumble that could not be ignored.
Jacob suppressed a laugh, his boyish face lifting into a wide grin that made his countenance shine.
Kitty made a surprised face and pretended to stifle a giggle, making the boy laugh harder.
“Forgive me.” Joseph exaggerated an apologetic frown and reached for a turnover. “I suppose I should take one. It seems my stomach speaks the truth I wished to hide.” He winked at Jacob, then looked to Kitty. “Turnovers are my favorite.”
“Well then, I’m pleased I made them.”
Jacob continued to chuckle lightly and took one of his own, peeling off a corner and blowing on it before stuffing it into his mouth.
Kitty sat beside Jacob on the couch, the expression on her face bright and kind. “Eat as much as you like. I’m so pleased to have someone around that I may cook for.” She flung a glance to Joseph before looking once again to Jacob. “What do you think of your sleeping arrangements?”
Hang it.
He should have spoken of that right away. Joseph put down the turnover. “I hadn’t spoken to him yet—”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Face ashen, Kitty rose from the couch.
“No, no. Not to worry.” Joseph shook his head and motioned for her to stay seated before turning to Jacob. “Mrs. Smith has prepared a wonderful room for you.”
Jacob slowed his chewing, looking between them with peaked brow and questioning eyes.
“’Tis…” Joseph looked to Kitty before spilling out the words in a tone he hoped would seem natural, matter of fact. “’Tis a very welcoming space in the room the surgery used to be.”
Jacob’s eyebrows folded hard as he swallowed the bite in his mouth. He sat back and after a long, slow blink shifted his eyes toward the room he knew so well.
Kitty shot a frantic look to Joseph and spoke to fill the vacuum. “There’s a new bed, and I’ve stocked the cabinet with books and the articles you need for drawing, if you like.”
At this he looked up, and she continued, smile coaxing. “’Tis quite cozy. There’s a soft quilt and a lamp and—”
“You mean I won’t have to go up the stairs?” A hopeful lift in his brow mirrored the ribbon of relief in his voice.
Joseph shook his head, a welcoming relief brushing away a layer of worry. “Nay, you shall not.”
