Status Updates From A Fair Wind Home

"I would have courted you with gentle things, and you should have had gifts and-" he cast about in his mind for a sample of the best he could think of "-and a journey to Bowker's Tavern to eat the pheasant pie."He paused, remembering. "Ah, God,"he said mournfully. "Pheasant pie!"

The clean spray made him feel better; he braced his feet, leaned hard on the tiller, turned his face to the hard, stinging drops. (I can't help liking Nate, I just hope he'll be kind to sweet Caroline.)

How the dickens can something have happened two months ago today, and it took three months from the two to get to today? Ed's story doesn't make any sense, he has his time all muddled. One minute Ed's boat had three people and the next only two, the other was still on the ship. If this doesn't make sense that's because his story doesn't.

One of the wet, V-shaped strands of hair above Ed's head bandage, drying in the warm air of the bedroom, stirred a little and then stood up in a tight, crisp curl. Nate felt the hot, hard lump come back into his throat. He put out a finger to touch the curl, then turned and went softly out, closing the bedroom door on the wreck of his brother.

It starts with a bang...