“He’s improved then? How is his leg?” Nathaniel tucked the precious note inside his jacket, no doubt eager to read it when he could treasure his wife’s loving words in sacred solitude.
“His leg is nearly fully healed. The wooden leg and crutch allow him to walk without too much difficulty.” He stopped, gratitude burning at the back of his eyes. He chuckled to release himself from the strain of emotion that thickened his throat. “Now, because of your heroism, he’s considering studying medicine instead of remaining on as my apprentice.”
At this, Nathaniel’s white smile beamed through the room. “Well”—he chuckled—“it would be difficult for anyone, indeed, to not be supremely impressed by my skill. Don’t take it as an affront to your trade, Joseph. Blacksmithing is…honorable.”
“Honorable?” Joseph leaned back, a chuckle on his breath as he rested his hands behind his head. “I should like to see you swing a hammer for days on end. I doubt you could.”
He tilted his head, a grin at his lips. “Then again, ’twould seem I am the hero.”
“Aye, but without my honorable trade, you would not have the tools for heroics.”
Nathaniel laughed full out. “Touché, my good man. Touché.”
Grinning, Joseph rose and went to the table, examining the large map of Boston, neatly organized correspondence, compass, and unlit oil lamp. “Truth is, I, uh…I have recently purchased an addition to my trade.”
“Oh?” Nathaniel followed suit and moved around the desk, standing opposite him. “What would entice you to expand in such a way? You needn’t the money.”
’Twas true. He’d inherited his father’s wealth four years ago at his passing, leaving Joseph with the deepest pockets in both Sandwich and Plymouth. Aye, he dressed well when required and donated generously to those in need, but the frivolities of the upper classes never held any allure.
“I know blacksmithing so well—I want more of a challenge.” He picked up the compass and circled it in his fingers. “I bought Ensign Young’s foundry.”
Nathaniel dipped his head, his brows jumping. “As in Philo Young’s brother. As in…Hannah’s uncle.”
The sound of her name stroked Joseph’s ears, and he shook his head to ease the seducing sensation. Unable to voice the answer, he nodded with a weighted sigh. “I stopped by on my way here to finalize the agreement.” Joseph set the compass back down and turned, resting against the edge of the table. “I regard the man with great esteem. You would be hard pressed to find anyone more skilled or more sincere.”
“I do not know Ensign, though I know of him, of course. His good reputation is unmatched indeed. I do, however, know his brother.” There was disdain in Nathaniel’s tone, as if the taste of his statement was as unpleasant as the man himself.
Philo’s sneer and hollow eyes heaved from Joseph’s carefully arranged memories. He shuttered the image away. “They are nothing alike.”
Shadows, haunting and black, snapped at his heels. He too had had a brother—one whose spirit matched more the dank underbelly of earth than the bright sun-gifted light of day. But his brother was dead. And now his brother’s son was Joseph’s to love and raise as his own.
“There were rumors he was planning to sell…” Nathaniel’s words pulled Joseph from the slippery bank he nearly fell from. His friend rounded the desk and stood beside him, staring questions Joseph could read as easily as a handwritten missive.
If he dared speak it…
Joseph gripped the edge of the table, recalling the battle that had waged within him—the battle that still waged. Should he have done it? Would she flee at the mere thought of his taking over for her beloved uncle? Sighing his answer, Joseph shrugged. “’Twas time for me to expand my trade, that is all.”
“Does she know?”
There it was. Blinking slow, Joseph faced forward and gripped the edge of the table. “Nay.”
“You do know she will find this out.”
“Not until the war is over. Ensign has given me his word.”
Nathaniel pulled his head back, one eyebrow sloped. “You trust him then.”
Standing, Joseph brushed past the overgrowth of frustration. “When I spoke with Ensign only a few days ago, he gave me his word he would not apprise her of my purchase until the conflict is finished and that he would keep watch over the property until I return.”
“Then?”
Joseph slanted his head and glanced at his friend, who seemed dangerously curious. “Then they will stay on, and Ensign will do the books.
”
“What is Hannah to do?”
“I don’t know what Hannah is to do.” The answer sputtered too loud and too quick. “She is free to do whatever she pleases.”