I sat on the couch in the upstairs room trying to concentrate on the words printed on the page of the book I held in front of my face. I reread the paragraph a third time but still couldn't process what it said. My mind was still on my fight with Connor. I was debating on apologizing to him when he got back. But my pride dissuaded me from doing so.

I hadn't said anything when came back. Achilles had watched me fix supper in silence. He didn't ask about why I had been upset and stormed out. I expected him to. But he gave me my space. I respected that about him and gave him a short hug as I gathered his empty plate after supper. He was polite enough to ignore it. I knew he wasn't really comfortable with the affection, but I felt keen on giving it. I had never had a bond with anyone like I had with him. He was the closest thing to a father I had ever had. He didn't refrain from reprimanding me but was fair about it. He provided the rules and structure that I had always associated with a true home environment. And he was kind to me but kept his boundaries firm. I loved Achilles. In a purely platonic and wholesome way. And I knew he cared about me, too. He didn't have to say it. He showed it. That was enough to make me happy to be here.

With a sigh, I closed the book and put it on the table. I pulled my legs up to my chest and hugged my knees as I gazed out the window. There were opaque circles of frost around the edge of the glass panes. The sky was turning dark with wisps of bright clouds zigzagging it. I watched as they changed their color from a dark orange to light gray as the sun continued to set.

I looked around at the light tapping on wood and saw Connor standing in the doorway. He was watching me nervously, avoiding eye contact and glancing frequently at the ground. His anxious appearance was uncharacteristic. I frowned at him.

"May I come in?" he asked in a shy voice.

I glanced around to make sure that I wasn't in my bedroom. I found it odd that he was asking permission to enter. This was a common room. I had no say in who came and went here.

I shrugged at him. "Sure."

Connor walked in slowly and stood at the end of the couch where I was sitting.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior," he said. "I took what you said out of context. I know you did not mean your words as an insult. I was wrong to take them that way."

I watched him in mild surprise. I hadn't expected him to say he was sorry. I knew why he had gotten angry. I didn't condone the way he had lashed out, but I understood it. I admired the way he admitted he was wrong. It showed responsibility.

"I'm sorry, too," I told him.

Connor gave me a forgiving grin. He moved to the front of the couch and sat down, eyeing me. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

All my previous questions no longer felt important to me. My curiosity with the spirits and their responsibility with my being here was rendered moot when I realized how much like home this was to me. I didn't really think I had had a better life before now. I felt no desire to return to it, at any rate. That gave me no reason to look for answers to my position. This was my life now. If a few strange visions were the price I had to pay for contentment, I would do so.

"It was nothing," I said.

The skepticism on Connor's face was evident, but he didn't press for an explanation. He nodded at me. We sat in quiet for a moment. Connor stared at his hands, and I stared at mine.

"I am leaving soon," he stated, drawing my attention back to him. "I will be gone at least a month. You are welcome to use my bed while I am away."

I let out a startled laugh and covered my mouth. Connor avoided looking at me. "Sorry," I told him. "I just wasn't expecting you to say that."

He nodded and still didn't look at me.

"Thanks," I said. "It would be a nice change from the couch. Where are you going?"

"Wherever the wind takes me," he stated. I saw a faint smile on his face. "Mr. Faulkner told me that there are rogue privateers harassing the merchant ships near Nantucket. I would like to offer my assistance."

"Oh," I replied. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by offering his assistance. "Who is Mr. Faulkner."

"Robert Faulkner," Connor told me. "My first mate. He taught me how to sail. I have never met a finer seafarer than him. He is a good man. As well as a good friend. Maybe someday I will introduce you to him."

"I would like that," I said, not sure if I meant it.

There was an awkward silence. I realized I had many of those with Connor. He wasn't the greatest conversationalist. I found it odd that everyone seemed to like him considering how reserved he was. It made me wonder if he was only that way with me.

"I'm sure Achilles will miss you while you're gone," I said, just to break the silence.

"I doubt that," Connor returned, with a grin. "He will be glad to not have me here to bother him."

I laughed. At least he had a small sense of humor.

"Don't worry," I told him. "I'll annoy him enough for the both of us while you're gone."

Connor chuckled softly. That was the first time I had ever heard him laugh. It was humanizing. I found myself wishing he would do it more often.

"Can I ask you something?"

Connor looked at me and nodded.

"You don't have to tell me, I just...I was wondering how your parents met."

He surprised me by actually telling me the story. He didn't even seem to mind relating it. "My father helped to rescue my mother from a slaver. He had personal reasons for doing so, but it led to their meeting. Mother helped him to hunt down a man who was threatening the Iroquois. They became close. But there were too many conflicts pulling them apart and they separated before I was born. Mother never told Father about me. I do not think he knows he has a son."

"Oh." That was the only response I could muster. "I don't think my mom even knows who my dad is."

"You do not even have his name?" Connor asked.

I shook my head. "I really don't even want to know. My mom didn't want me. I doubt he would either."

"I am sorry."

I looked at him. He was sincere. "I'm not," I said. "I think I turned out alright."

Connor met my eyes and smiled. "I suppose that is one way to look at it."

There was another period of silence. But it was comfortable. I supposed if I thought of Achilles as a father, I should think of Connor as a brother. But something was keeping me from feeling that way about him. Maybe it was the fact that we were strangers to each other. We rarely spoke. And when we did, it wasn't meaningful. This was the longest, most pleasant, conversation I had ever had with him.

"I have been thinking," Connor stated. "You should learn to protect yourself."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because the wilderness truly is dangerous. I do not expect you to remain at the house every day. You will want to visit other people. You should be able to defend yourself if you ever find yourself at risk."

He made a good point. And he had stated it in a way that I didn't find demeaning. I nodded at him. "Okay," I said. "What did you have in mind?"

"A pistol would be the best weapon for you," Connor told me. "It does not require much skill to fire and is deadly when accurate."

I frowned at him. "I don't really like guns. Can you teach me to use a bow instead?"

It was his turn to frown. The bow is not easy to master. It requires strength and good aim."

I huffed. "You think I can't learn to use one?"

"No, that is not what I think," Connor said. I could tell he was trying not to upset me. "I only meant that it would take time for you to learn."

"When are you leaving?" I asked him.

"Three days."

I bit my bottom lip. That wasn't much time. "If I promise to stay home while you're gone, will you promise to teach me to use a bow when you get back?"

Connor stared at me in disbelief. It was almost funny to see that look on his face. I couldn't hide a smile. He arched his brow in thought, then nodded.

"You have my word."

I was satisfied with that and grinned. Connor stood up and started to leave the room. He paused at the door and looked back at me.

"Please do not touch any of my things while I am gone."

"I already made you one promise, Connor. Don't expect me to make another one so soon."

He gave me stern glare then walked away. I wasn't sure he knew I was joking.