She heard the crunch of his boots over the rocks that lead into the shore well before he was near enough to speak. The wind was tugging at her skirts, playing its way through her carefully pulled back hair in an effort to unravel her work and leave evidence of her visit to where the waves crashed at their loudest against the island, where the boats could not make berth and thus, where she was safest from invasion.
Her arms held her legs, less for warmth than to keep the wind from whipping her about too much, and despite the coming storm she found herself quite at ease. When his voice filtered down to her, she leaned back, craning her neck to look up at him as she replied easily, “Neither do you.”
Today held meaning for her – but she knew where she had lost a father and a foundation of trust, he had discovered betrayal, and in that betrayal, had lost a friend. The anniversary of Charlestown was bittersweet – she was glad that Mister Hamilton was alive, and that he and Miss Barlow and Mister McGraw were working through what that all meant – but for her there were no reunions for which to hope for.
And in truth – she didn’t want any. She was quite happy with the life she had made for herself in Nassau. There were times though, like these, when it felt right to acknowledge the shadows inherent in how she had come to be part of the story here.
Reaching up, she offered him her hand. She didn’t know if any part of him mourned for Peter Ashe, after all he had done – but she did know he was her friend, and for whatever reason, he had come to see if she was alright today. “I’m going to watch the storm come in,” She informed him simply, “You’re welcome to join me, if you want.”
Ocean Archive 