The next day, after their Saturday chores had been attended to, the children did exactly what their grandfather told them they would be doing. The 'men' spent the day doing 'boy' things, while Candy and her grandmother did 'girl' things.

After it had been explained to Ralph that Jonathan was making sails for a ship he was carving, he humored the boy about practicing his sewing. The businessman still wasn't convinced it was something his grandson should be doing, even if tailors and sailors did do it. He had grander plans for the boy than those 'low class' occupations.

When Jonathan gave his grandfather one of the sails to work on, he proved to be completely inept with a sewing needle . . . sticking himself multiple times . . . and drawing blood almost as often. Jonathan, on the other hand, knew what he was doing and focused on perfecting the skills the captain was teaching him. He had been so pleased with how his gift to the seaman turned out – once the masts were set properly – he was making one for himself.

After they finished the sails, Ralph asked if there was something else Jonathan would like to do.

"Let's go fishing!" he suggested excitedly. "Are you a good fisherman, Grandfather?"

"Oh, I'm a whale of a fisherman," he replied unconvincingly.

It didn't take long for Jonathan to decide his grandfather must have been joking about his fishing skills; he didn't even know how to bait the hook. After watching him struggle for a while, the boy offered some advice and caught himself before completely mentioning his hero.

"The Cap . . . um . . . you hook them just back of the gill," he explained.

Once Ralph finally got the hook baited, he hauled off to cast his line. As he brought the pole around, Jonathan and Scruffy had to duck to avoid getting tangled up in it.

The elder Muir didn't catch a single fish and, after what seemed like forever, he finally gave up. When he pulled his line in, not only was there no fish on the line, but the bait was gone too. Ralph wondered if he'd been standing there with an empty hook the whole time. Jonathan had much better luck and pulled in several good-sized fish in succession, more than enough for dinner.

When they arrived back at the house. Martha was happy to see they'd been so successful and thanked them both. While the fish were held up for her to see, the boy, and his grandfather, received a pointed look.

"We have a rule in this house, gentlemen . . ."

"I know. 'You catch 'em, you clean 'em,'" Jonathan replied. "Don't worry, we'll take care of them."

The boy missed the expression on his grandfather's face, but Martha didn't, and she had to turn away to hide her smile.

"The bucket is in the mud room, along with the knives you'll need. There's old newspaper out there too," she said. "And Jonathan, if you clean them, I'll debone them for you."

That was his least favorite part of cleaning fish, and he gave her a grateful smile.

"Yes, ma'am!" he said happily.

"What's a mud room?" Ralph asked as he followed him out of the kitchen.

"It's this room we just came through. Martha calls it that because we come in this way if we're muddy and dirty. We leave our wellies in there, so we don't drag the mess into the rest of the house."

Ralph nodded, but now he was wondering what wellies were.

"Grandfather, do you know how to clean fish?"

Ralph knew less about cleaning fish than he did about catching them and decided to tell the truth.

"No, Johnny. I've never had to clean a fish."

"That's okay; I can teach you."

Jonathan gathered everything they would need and led the way outside to a table the captain had built for that purpose. He stepped up on the small platform, the seaman had added for the children's convenience, put the fish down, then carefully placed the knives on the table. He explained that they would be using two different knives – one dull and one sharp.

"The dull one is to scrape off the scales," he said, handing a fish to his grandfather and pointing to the proper knife. "Scrape against the direction of the scales and work from the tail to the head." Seeing the bewildered look on Ralph's face, the boy picked up a fish and started flicking his knife over the scales. "Like this, Grandfather."

Ralph watched for a moment and then attempted to do it himself. His technique wasn't as efficient as Jonathan's but, with the boy's encouragement, he managed to get most of the scales off.

When they finished scaling the fish, Jonathan explained the next step.

"We're going to use the other knife now, so be careful; it's very sharp," he warned, picking up a fish. "Now, turn the fish over. See that small hole near the tail?" he asked pointing. "We're going to cut from there, along the belly, and stop at the base of the gills. Don't jam the knife in too far, though, just make a shallow cut so you can pull the guts out intact. If you don't, it can get messy."

He saw his grandfather's reluctance, so went ahead and cut into his fish first. Without any hesitation, he pulled out the guts and lifted them up for him to see.

"Like this, Grandfather," he smiled.

Ralph's reaction was a cross between a cringe and wanting to vomit. The back of his hand went swiftly to his mouth to keep the latter from happening.

"Now, you try it," Jonathan said, unaware of his grandfather's discomfort.

It was with some hesitation he picked up his knife, but he must have been paying attention, because he cut the fish as instructed and, with an unpleasant look on his face, pulled the guts out – intact. He was as surprised as Jonathan was, but a cocky smile lit up his face as if to say, 'What did you expect?'

They finished cleaning the remaining fish, and Jonathan took care of the mess. Before they went into the house, they rinsed their hands at the well. Martha would have had more than a few words to say if they'd washed their hands at her sink without rinsing outside first.

XXXXX

After breakfast, the women of the house had taken the cart into town for the weekly shopping and errands. It was a snug fit for the four of them, but they made the best of it, chatting amiably during the ride.

Carolyn and Martha were going to take care of the errands, while Candy and her grandmother went their own way. The young girl had offered to show Marjorie around Schooner Bay and was thrilled when her mother and grandmother agreed to the suggestion. They would be left to entertain themselves until after lunch, when Carolyn would return to pick them up.

To start the tour, Candy took her grandmother through the park. As was usually the case, it was teeming with activity; mothers pushing babies in prams, children playing, young couples strolling, and others simply enjoying the beautiful day. When they came around to the fountain on the green, she explained that it had been built just before they moved to town and was one of her favorite places.

"Would you like to throw a coin in the fountain and make a wish?" her grandmother asked.

"Can we?"

"Of course," Marjorie said giving her a coin from her purse.

"Will you make one too?"

"I don't see why not," she smiled, searching for another one.

Armed with their pennies, they put their backs to the fountain and tossed them over their shoulders. Turning around quickly, they saw the splashes that confirmed their coins had joined the others resting on the bottom.

"Did you make a wish?"

"Yes, Grandmother. Did you?"

"I did," she said, smiling and wrapping her arm around her granddaughter's shoulders. "I wished . . ."

"You can't tell me what you wished for! If you do, it won't come true!"

"Oh! Then my lips are sealed," Marjorie smiled and tapped the little girl on the nose.

As they continued their walk, Candy was greeted by quite a few children who called her by name. Several invited her to join them, but she politely declined. Coming around a bend, she saw Penelope Hassenhammer and her mother walking toward them.

"Oh, great," she said softly.

Knowing it would be rude not to stop and say 'hello', Candy continued toward them.

"Good morning Mrs. Hassenhammer, Penelope," she said politely.

"Good morning, Candy," the annoying girl replied haughtily.

"Candace," Penelope's equally irritating mother acknowledged formally.

"Grandmother, this is Mrs. Hassenhammer and her daughter Penelope, who is in my class at school. Mrs. Hassenhammer, Penelope, may I present my grandmother, Mrs. Ralph Muir."

Formal greetings were exchanged, along with a few brief pleasantries about the weather and the park. Mrs. Hassenhammer immediately took notice of Marjorie's fine clothes, how she carried herself, and the way she spoke. This Mrs. Muir was a woman of class and refinement, and she decided it might be beneficial to be pleasant to her.

"Do you live in Philadelphia? As I recall, that's where the children and their mother moved here from."

"Yes," Marjorie replied with a forced smile. Mrs. Hassenhammer, and her overdressed daughter, reminded her of so many 'social wannabes' at home.

"How nice that you were able to make the trip to visit the family," she continued to gush. "I would imagine it was a very long journey."

"Yes, it was."

Mrs. Muir's short responses did nothing to discourage Mrs. Hassenhammer's attempts to make a good impression.

"Candace, how fortunate you are that your grandmother has come for a visit. I'm sure you're having a wonderful time."

"Yes, ma'am," Candy replied, eager to get away.

Marjorie, not missing the lack of interest the two girls had in each other, correctly assumed they were not friends and that her granddaughter was only being polite when she stopped and introduced them.

"Mrs. Hassenhammer, if you'll excuse us, our time together is limited, and we must be moving on."

"Oh," she replied, slightly deflated. "Yes . . . of course; I understand completely. Time with our children is precious. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Muir. I hope we see each other again."

Marjorie simply nodded and, after the girls said goodbye, she and Candy continued on their way. They glanced at each other and chuckled. It was obvious they were both glad to be away from the Hassenhammers.

Candy was enjoying this time alone with her grandmother, who had been smiling and laughing more this morning than she'd ever seen her. She couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with being away from Grandfather. He had a way of putting everyone on edge, and she thought it must be hard to be with him most of the time.

They walked further around the green, and Candy wasn't surprised when she spotted Seamus and Colm playing chess on their bench. She hesitated a moment, afraid talking to them would risk the captain being brought into the conversation, but she didn't want them to be hurt if she didn't stop. Saying a silent prayer that she was doing the right thing, she continued toward them. She couldn't help but wonder what her grandmother would think of the seamen, though. It was obvious she didn't think much of Penelope and her mother, but that was all right; that just made her appreciate her even more.

Seamus looked up and recognized Candy immediately, but seeing her with the obviously upper class, older woman caused him to straighten his appearance, as much as he could, and warn his friend to do the same.

"Colm. Look sharp. Candy Muir is coming, and she has a lady with her."

The other seaman looked up and did a double take. He instinctively sat up straight and ran his hands over his shirt, but looking down, realized it was a lost cause.

Knowing she'd been seen, Candy waved to the men. Her grandmother looked up to see who she was greeting so enthusiastically and got quite a surprise.

"Grandmother, come this way, there's some people I'd like you to meet."

"Candace, are you sure?"

"Yes, ma'am; they're friends of the family."

Marjorie was skeptical but allowed herself to be led over to them.

Both men stood and removed their caps as the ladies approached.

"Good morning, Mr. Armitage. Good Morning, Mr. Donegan," Candy greeted them happily.

"Good morning, lass. Ma'am," they both replied with a bow.

"Grandmother, I'd like to introduce Mr. Armitage and Mr. Donegan. Gentleman, this my grandmother, Mrs. Ralph Muir."

"How do you do?"

"Ma'am," they repeated, politely.

They were both unusually reserved, and Candy was tickled by their behavior. What she didn't realize was neither man came face to face with society women often – if ever. They did consider the captain's lady high bred but knew Carolyn Muir was in a class by herself. She was easy to talk to and enjoyable to be around. Most woman with her background were not approachable at all.

Seamus wasn't sure how an attempt at conversation would be received by the lady but, to end the awkwardness, he looked down at the young girl.

"So, what brings ya ta town this morning, lass?" he asked.

"We came down with Mom and Martha. They're doing the shopping, and I'm showing Grandmother around Schooner Bay."

"'Tis a beautiful day for it. I think summer is here ta stay," Colm added, looking closely at Mrs. Ralph Muir, which surprised Seamus.

"It is a very nice day, but it's still much cooler here than it is in Philadelphia," Marjorie replied, looking at Colm as if she recognized him; a small smile appearing on her face

"Philadelphia's a nice city, I spent time there some years ago, but it can't compete with home," Colm spoke up again and smiled. "Unless, 'tis your home."

She nodded, and then, remembering the others, looked at Seamus.

"Are you originally from Schooner Bay, Mr. Armitage?"

"Yes, ma'am; born and raised . . . until I ran off to sea."

"Oh, you're a seaman."

The Seamus looked at Colm, surprised that the dreaded term 'sailor' hadn't been used but, either his friend didn't notice or, he wasn't surprised. He was smiling at Candy's grandmother.

"Yes, ma'am. Both me and Colm are . . . or were . . . We're retired now," he replied, puzzled by his friend's behavior.

The use of the other seaman's Christian name caused Marjorie's smile to spread across her face. Her recognition broadened the smile of the seaman's, until it matched hers.

"If I wasn't seein' ya for myself, I'd never believed it," Colm said. "Margie MacKenna, you're all grown up."

Marjorie blushed and shook her head in wonder.

"Colm Donegan, it's been a very long time."

Both Candy and Seamus' mouths dropped open.

"Grandmother, you know Mr. Donegan?"

"I think you could say, we used to know each other. Mr. Donegan was engaged to my sister, Abigail . . . Abbie . . ." she clarified.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Candy replied, still stunned at the revelation that her grandmother knew Mr. Donegan.

"She died a long time ago," she explained, with a touch of sadness, as she affectionately ran her hand down her granddaughter's cheek.

"Lass, the last time I saw your grandmother, she was probably only a few years older than you are now."

"Gee! I never thought of you as being my age, Grandmother."

The innocent remark caused Marjorie and Colm to chuckle. Seamus was still in shock. He'd known about Colm's engagement . . . even met the young lady on several occasions . . . but never would have imagined she came from the kind of family this woman appeared to be from.

"Ya know, Margie, ya look the way I imagine Abbie would have looked. Ya were a miniature of her back then."

The emotion in his voice almost brought tears to her eyes. Blinking them back, and clearing her throat, she met his gaze.

"Did you ever marry, Colm?"

"No; I never did," he replied softly. "After Abbie passed, no other woman could measure up."

"You never came to the house afterwards," she said, not in an accusatory tone; she just sounded . . . sad.

"I was in Germany when your father's letter reached me. He . . . ah . . . well . . . you know."

It seemed the mention of her father was all he had to say for Marjorie to understand. She nodded, and they were both quiet for a moment; their memories flashing through the decades, back to the loss of Abbie, and her father's attitude toward Colm. Owen MacKenna did not approve of his daughter seeing a 'sailor,' much less being engaged to, or marrying, one.

There was a lot he wanted to ask Marjorie, but he couldn't bring himself to talk about Abbie in front of the others. Smiling at her, he glanced down at Candy.

"That's a fine lass ya have there; I know ya must be proud of her."

"I am. I just wish we had more time together," she said, putting her hand on Candy's shoulder.

"Grandmother, I can't believe you know Mr. Donegan. Wait until the family finds out; they'll be so surprised!

Marjorie smiled at her.

"They won't be any more surprised than I am at finding him, after all this time," she said looking fondly at the seaman. "Colm, I wish we could spend time talking, but Candy and I are on a tight schedule today."

"I would have liked that too," he said regretfully. "Margie, 'twas good seein' ya again, but I know ya and the lass need to be goin'. Who knows, maybe our paths 'ill cross again one day."

She smiled at him, with a touch of regret, knowing that was not likely to happen.

"Mr. Armitage, it was very nice to meet you," Marjorie said. "Colm, take care of yourself."

"Aye. You too, Margie"

"Goodbye, Mr. Donegan. Goodbye, Mr. Armitage," Candy said as she and her grandmother moved away.

Seamus looked at his friend, ready to give him a good ribbing, about his ties to high society, but stopped himself before the words could come out of his mouth. Colm was sitting on the bench; a look of profound loss on his face as he watched Margie MacKenna walk away.

XXXXX

After leaving the park, Candy and her grandmother continued their tour of Schooner Bay, going by the school, library, church, and shopping at the General Store. Their last stop was the Inn, where they had a wonderful time and enjoyed a delicious lunch together.

At the agreed upon time, Carolyn arrived to find her daughter and mother-in-law finishing their dessert and happily engaged in conversation.

"Hi, Mom!" Candy greeted her as she walked toward their table.

"Is it that time already?" Marjorie asked. "We've been having so much fun, the day has just flown by."

"Good afternoon," her daughter-in-law said smiling. "I take it you enjoyed your tour of Schooner Bay?"

"We did. It's a charming town, Carolyn. I can see why you and the children like it so much."

"Mom, guess what?"

"What?" she smiled at her daughter; happy that her day had gone so well.

"Grandmother saw someone she knew," she said excitedly. "And you won't believe who is it is."

Carolyn had no idea and looked from her daughter to her mother-in-law for the answer.

"Mr. Donegan!"

"Colm?!"

"Yeah! Isn't that nifty?!"

Words failed her, and she could only stare at Marjorie, who couldn't help chuckling at her reaction.

"Carolyn, why don't you sit down, and I'll tell you about it over a cup of coffee."

She didn't waste any time and took the seat next to Candy and across from her mother-in-law.

After the coffee was served, along with a cup of tea for the youngest member of the party, Marjorie told them about her older sister. She explained how much, with six years separating them, she looked up to Abbie; following her around all the time and serving as her shadow. She admitted that, when Colm started seeing her sister, she became even more of a pest. After all this time, she was still amazed that he had always been kind and tolerant of her.

Her sister and the seaman courted through several of his voyages, and the young girl grew very fond of Colm, looking upon him as a brother. After one long voyage, he returned to Philadelphia and asked Abbie to marry him. Marjorie told her audience she was almost as excited as her sister, because, now, Colm would be part of their family.

As her mother-in-law reminisced, Carolyn recalled what Daniel had recently told her about the retired seaman being engaged; that he hadn't married because he'd never gotten over the loss of his fiancée. Never, in a million years, would she have imagined that Colm had been engaged to anyone in Marjorie's family. As she watched the expression on her mother-in-law's face soften, Carolyn realized she knew little, if anything, about her family background and couldn't help but think what a different person she must have been back then.

"Only being eleven or twelve at the time, I was caught up in the romance of it all. It didn't hurt that Colm was very handsome and charming, and he lived such an exciting life . . . at least it seemed exciting to this young girl," she smiled at her companions. "He was nothing like the other boys Abbie knew. He was a man . . . and he treated my sister like a queen," she finished; her eyes giving away her feelings of loss after all these years.

Carolyn reached across the table and covered Marjorie's hand with her own, letting that simple act voice her sympathy.

Marjorie seemed almost embarrassed that she had let down her guard but turned over her hand and squeezed Carolyn's in thanks.

"Well, after Abbie died, Father must have sent a letter to Colm letting him know, and we never saw him again."

"Until today," Candy said smiling.

"That's right, dear . . . until today," she returned the smile. "So, thank you, my sweet. It never would have happened had you not introduced me to your friends."

The young girl beamed.

Finishing the most interesting part of their morning, Candy and her grandmother filled Carolyn in on their tour of the rest of of the town. Once their exploits reached the present, Marjorie looked at her companions.

"I suppose we should be getting back to the house," she sighed. "Any idea how the 'boys' are getting along?"

"Well, they went fishing."

"Uh oh."

"Yes . . . but they did catch enough for dinner tonight."

"They?"

"Well . . . Jonathan did."

"That makes sense. How did the sewing go?" she asked, pursing her lips to keep from laughing.

"Apparently, sewing is not something your husband excels at."

"No. I didn't think he would."

"His sail is going to need some alterations," Carolyn added, looking at her mother-in-law who was still trying to hide her amusement.

"I'm not surprised. Did they do any other 'real boy' things?"

"When I left the house, they were looking for pieces of wood, with plans to whittle on the front steps."

"Oh, Carolyn! That had to be Jonathan's idea. Ralph isn't good with knives. We'll be lucky if no blood has been shed by the time we get home."

XXXXX

When the women returned to Gull Cottage, Jonathan and Ralph weren't out front, so Carolyn drove the cart around to the barn. She and Candy unhitched Bonhomme and brushed him while Marjorie looked on, amazed that they were so sure handed at what they were doing. She decided she might have to reconsider how delicate she thought her granddaughter actually was.

After the horse had been put in the pasture, the women headed to the house to see where the 'boys' were. As they crossed the yard, Marjorie took in everything around her. It was a well-maintained property, with an extremely large vegetable garden, a nice stand of mid-sized fruit trees, a flower garden that looked like it was being redesigned, and more stacked firewood than she'd ever seen in one place. Ralph was right, this was a nice house.

Entering the kitchen through the mud room, they found Ralph and Jonathan sitting at the table. Martha was wrapping a bandage around Mr. Muir's left hand.

"What happened?!" the three Muir women asked at once.

"Grandfather cut himself!" Jonathan informed them, while the injured party avoided looking at the ladies and concentrated on his hand.

"It's not as bad as it looks. Mr. Muir had an accident while he was carving," Martha replied. "He cut his fingers," she said wiggling her own index and middle finger. "We cleaned the wounds and are just finishing up with the bandage. The cuts aren't too deep, but I thought it should be covered and wrapped it around his palm, so it'll stay put," she said, tying it off.

Ralph took a moment to glance at his wife, who subtly shook her head at his injury.

"How was girl's day out?" Martha asked.

"We had a wonderful time!" Marjorie declared. "Candy showed me around town, and we had a lovely lunch at the Inn."

"And we . . ."

". . . ran into an old friend," she finished before Candy could.

"Oh? An old friend of yours?" Ralph questioned.

Marjorie nodded.

"Who could you possibly know up here?"

"We saw Colm Donegan in the park."

"Who's he?"

"He was the young man who was engaged to Abbie."

"Abbie? Oh, your sister, Abigail. Wasn't he a sailor?" he asked absently, checking Martha's handiwork.

"SEAMAN!" Everyone in the room corrected, causing him to jump.

Suddenly, they became very still and looked at each other. Just as quickly, everyone . . . except Ralph . . . began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" he groused.

"Grandfather, 'sailor' is a term used by landlubbers. 'Seamen' is the correct word for men who sail the sea," Jonathan explained.

"I don't see what difference it makes."

"It makes a big difference to the seamen . . ." Carolyn replied. "And they won't hesitate to tell you, either."

"Ralph, it would be like someone referring to you as a chimney sweep instead of a man who owns a successful furnace business," his wife explained. ". . . or calling Martha, Elizabeth, or you, Mr. Johnson."

The blank look on his face told them all he still didn't understand.

His granddaughter walked over to him at the table.

"I'm sorry you cut your fingers, Grandfather," she sympathized. "Does it hurt?"

"Thank you, dear. No, not too much."

"What were you making?"

"I . . . ah . . . hadn't gotten that far yet."

"It was my fault. I was getting ready to show him how to hold the knife safely, but I wasn't fast enough," his grandson replied.

"Oh, Jonathan, this isn't your fault," his grandmother assured him. "Your grandfather has a habit of having . . . mishaps . . . don't you, dear?" she said, giving her husband a look. At times, when Ralph did something careless, he'd been known to verbally lash out at whoever was closest and blame them. She hoped he hadn't reacted that way today with their grandson.

"No, Johnny, this isn't your fault," he said unconvincingly. He was not at all happy that his wife would say that about him in front of the family . . . not to mention a servant.

Carolyn, reading the mood of the room, decided to give the children a chance to be on their own for a while.

"You two have had a busy day already. Why don't you go upstairs and read or play quietly for a while?"

Recognizing the lifeline their mom was throwing them, Candy and Jonathan readily agreed and started out of the room with Scruffy.

"Hold on," Martha called out.

The children stopped, knowing by her tone there was something they'd have to do first.

"If you're taking Scruffy with you, he'd better go outside before you go up; it's been a while."

"Yes, ma'am," they said. "Come on, boy!"

Watching the children leave, Carolyn remembered she had some letters she wanted to write.

"Is there anything we can get you?" she asked her in-laws.

"I think I'll have a cup of tea, but I can get that myself." Marjorie answered.

"I apologize, but I have a few things I need to do upstairs," Carolyn said.

"You go ahead, dear. We'll be fine."

"I should be down in an hour or so. Please help yourself to whatever you need."

"Thank you," she said smiling. "Martha don't feel you have to stay around here for us. If there's something you need to do, don't let us keep you."

"Well, I do have a few things I should attend to. If you need help finding anything, just knock on my door down the hall."

"I doubt that will be necessary but thank you," Mrs. Muir smiled. "Ralph, can I fix you anything?"

"No," he replied, checking his coat pockets for something with his good hand. "I'm going out on the porch to smoke a cigar."

"All right. I'll stay here and enjoy my tea."

He couldn't be bother to wait and left the room before his wife had a chance to finish her reply.

Carolyn and Martha exchanged a look, and the younger woman motioned for her friend to leave before turning around to address her mother-in-law.

"You know, I think I could use a cup of tea too."

"Oh, you don't need to do that, Carolyn; I'm fine," Marjorie said, giving her a lopsided smile. "Go ahead; take care of what you need to do."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, dear. I could use some time to myself," she confirmed. "But thank you."

XXXXX

The rest of the afternoon was blessedly quiet. Candy and Jonathan were content to stay in their room and happily welcomed their grandmother when she came upstairs to spend time with them. Martha used her time to work on her embroidery and enjoyed being on her own until it was time to start supper. Carolyn answered her letters and wrote a few more to add to the stack she would be sending with Daniel when he sailed.

Putting the last letter in the desk drawer with the others, she wondered how close to home he was. It had only been three days, but she couldn't wait to be feel his arms around her. He'd be sailing south to Mexico, Cuba, and the Caribbean soon, and she wanted to be with him as much as possible until he had to leave.

When she learned his time at home was going to be so short, she'd been disappointed but was resigned to the upcoming voyage. This was what their life was going to be like, and she loved him too much to become one of those wives who demanded that her husband give up everything that had made him the man she fell in love with. She could only pray Daniel and his crew would return home safely, and in time to celebrate the holiday as planned.

Carolyn was overjoyed that he wanted to be with them to celebrate on Christmas day. Making memories with the children was as important to him as it was to her. They both wanted Candy and Jonathan to have happy times they could treasure for the rest of their lives. While they'd all enjoyed celebrating Christmas in June, Daniel told her he wanted to be a part of the family's traditions and the children's excitement on the actual day. He also hoped they could incorporate some of his own family's traditions and create a few new ones of their own.

It didn't take long for her to lose herself in the memory of their evening together before he left for Boston . . . their quiet conversation . . . the kisses they shared . . . and the contentment they both felt. Her thoughts were only of him; her love for him complete. Carolyn realized, until she met Daniel, she had no idea that true love could be like this, and she never would have imagined she could be so blessed.

After a few moments, she sighed, knowing she could easily spend hours thinking of him, and what their lives together would be like 'one day,' but good manners, and a guilty conscious, demanded she turn her attention back to her guests. She knew it was time to go downstairs and spend time with Marjorie and Ralph.

Remembering the surprising news about Colm being engaged to her mother-in-law's sister, Carolyn wondered if she would want to talk privately, without the children or Ralph around. At the Inn, she had gotten the feeling that, had Candy not been with them, she would have spoken more openly about that time of her life.

She stood to leave the room but, as she walked toward the door, stopped at her dresser. Opening a drawer, she moved the clothing covering Daniel's picture. A smile appeared as she looked at his handsome face; he would be home in a few short hours. When he'd left her Wednesday, she didn't know her in-laws would be here when he returned. Tonight, when he arrived, could prove to be an interesting evening for all of them.

XXXXX

On her way downstairs, she stopped in the nursery to check on Candy and Jonathan. She was surprised, and pleased, to find Marjorie reading to them while Scruffy napped in his bed. They all looked up when she opened the door, but she put up her hand and quietly left the room. She didn't want to interrupt their time together. This visit had already been surprising on several levels, at least as far as it related to her mother-in-law. It seemed the two women had more in common than she'd ever imagined, and she truly hoped they had time alone at some point.

The living room was empty, so she went to the kitchen, where she found Martha busy preparing the evening meal. Not surprisingly, it looked like she had everything well in hand . . . as she usually did. She was preparing the fish for frying, while a flame heated the fat in the cast iron skillet. A large batch of 'Hush Puppies' was ready to be dropped in the grease and, when they were finished frying, she'd put the fish in. She'd picked up the recipe for the fried bread when she was caring for her aunt in Maryland and had immediately made it a staple whenever she prepared seafood. Potato rounds were already baking in the oven and, when ready, would be topped with cheese and bacon and put back in the oven for a minute or two. The vegetable tonight would be carrots that had been cut lengthwise, for maximum flavor, and were sitting on a burner ready for the flame to be lit. The dessert was a family favorite and had been since the first time they'd tasted it. Using the recipe she'd been given by Daniel's former housekeeper, Mrs. Westfield, Martha had made Indian pudding.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Carolyn asked doubtfully.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Muir. I've got things ready to go. I was going to call the children down to set the table, though."

"Let me do that tonight. They're upstairs with Marjorie, and I'd rather not disturb them. They seemed to be enjoying spending time together."

"You mean without your father-in-law?"

Carolyn nodded.

"Well, who can blame them? He was hard to take when he'd visit the house before you moved up here, and that was only a few hours at a time," Martha said quietly. "Having him around all day is not easy on anyone. I don't know how your mother-in-law does it."

"Where is he?"

"I saw him walking toward the barn not long ago. He doesn't strike me as the outdoor type, so I don't know what he's looking for."

"Maybe he's just curious or wanted to take a walk."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll come back with some criticism or other. He's good at that."

"He is, isn't he?" Carolyn mused. "I didn't notice anything, before I left to pick up Candy and Marjorie, but have you heard him raise his voice to Jonathan?"

"No; not around me, but he can be a cantankerous so and so. That sweet boy is handling it, but I know he misses the captain."

"Candy does too. You know Martha, I've never seen two men so completely different when it comes to their attitude toward children. Ralph as always has been . . . a 'gruff old cuss,' as you have been prone to say; at least for as long as I've known him," Carolyn pondered. "Actually, I believe Robert may have been even worse. It must run in their family."

"Have the Muirs said anything about why they picked now to come for a visit?"

"No; not a word."

"So, the mystery continues."

As the statement came out of Martha's mouth, the back door opened, and Ralph Muir walked into the kitchen.

"There he is," Carolyn said cheerfully. "Have you been for a walk?"

"I guess you could call it that. I was just looking around the back," he replied, fiddling with the bandage on his hand. "That's an awfully big barn for a sailor . . . excuse me . . . seaman . . . who's away most of the time. Why is it so large, and why is there such a huge vegetable garden and so many fruit trees?"

"I would expect that, at some point, Captain Gregg will retire from the sea and live in his home year-round," Carolyn replied.

"That's an awfully big garden for one person. I'd even say it's too big for the four of you."

"The captain gives the excess fruit and vegetables and to retired seamen in Schooner Bay. They don't often have the means, or good enough health, to have a garden of their own," she explained further.

"And you take care of all of this for him now?"

"We planted and tend the garden, and we'll harvest the vegetables as they ripen. What can be stored will be kept in the root cellar, and Martha, with help from the children and me, will can as much as possible."

"Umm. What about the fruit trees? You're not going to pick the fruit too, are you?"

"No. Arrangements have already been made to have them harvested by the men who did the work last year."

"Humph!" he replied, unable to think of anything else to question or complain about. "Where's Marjorie?"

"She's upstairs with the children."

Afraid he would go up and interrupt them, Carolyn sought to distract him.

"Ralph, when I was in town, I picked up the Schooner Bay Beacon. I thought you might like to read it."

"A newspaper? Here?"

"Yes, of course we have a newspaper. How else would we get the news?"

"Well, since you went to the trouble to get it . . . I'll take a look; I'm sure it can't compete with the 'Inquirer' though."

The women shared an eye roll.

"Let me get it for you," she said, leaving the room.

"Just leave it in the living room; I'll read in there," he called after her. Directing his next comment to Martha's back, as she dipped a piece of fish in her special batter, he added, "I'd like a fresh cup of coffee. You can bring it in when it's ready."

Not turning around, Martha looked straight ahead and took a deep breath before replying.

"Of course, Mr. Muir. Is there anything else I can bring you?"

"No; I don't want to ruin my appetite," he said, walking out of the kitchen.

XXXXX

Daniel stepped off the train to stretch his legs before the start of the last part of his journey. It had been a long day but, barring any unforeseen delays between Rockland and Schooner Bay, he would be home earlier than expected. Not early enough to have dinner with the family, but certainly in time to help tuck Candy and Jonathan into bed.

He was anxious to get back to them. He'd only been gone a few days, but any amount of time away from Carolyn seemed an eternity. He had less than two weeks before the Kitty Keane sailed again, and he would not be taking any more time away from her and the children. The trip to Boston, while necessary, had cost him three full days with his family, and he was not willing to sacrifice any more than that. If something else came up, James or Mitch would have to see to it.

"ALL ABOARD!"