Prize of My Heart

Papa sobered at that. He looked shaken, uncertain what to expect. “My daughter informs me you have something to discuss, Captain. Come, let us retire to my study. Excuse us,” he apologized to all. “Don’t wait on us, Lorena. Take Drew and eat while the food is warm.”


“Yes, Papa.” Lorena knew she would not be able to swallow a morsel herself, but for the child’s sake she turned to him and said, “Mmm, is that molasses bread I smell? How long has it been since we’ve squashed gooseberries in a bread and butter sandwich?”

She led Drew into the dining room, one ear harkening to the sound of her father’s study door as it closed shut.





19


After years of agonizing why his son had been taken from him—bitter, angry, haunted by imagination and secrecy—Brogan took heart. At last he’d be granted the peace of mind in knowing what had happened to Benjamin three years ago. Finally, he would get answers. Huntley would deal with him honestly, as Abigail never had.

The shipbuilder closed the door behind them and gestured to a pair of winged chairs on an Oriental rug before the fireplace. They were tall, handsome pieces, jacquard-upholstered in vibrant red.

Brogan declined the seat and paced across the wide-plank pine floor to an east-facing window on the opposite side of Huntley’s desk, a desk littered with architectural drawings and drafting implements. He gazed out the panes to a sweeping view of land and sea. Hundreds of questions sprang to mind, yet before he could voice a single one, he must disclose his relationship to Ben.

Mustering his courage, Brogan turned from the window. “Mr. Huntley, you should know that I am privy to the true identity of the boy you call Drew. I have known from the beginning, in fact, because Benjamin was my reason for coming to you.”

“Oh.” Except for a slight paleness of complexion, Nathaniel Huntley’s face disclosed nothing. “I hope you won’t mind, Captain, but I believe I shall have a seat.” He lumbered to a wing chair and eased his burden down onto its cushioned seat, gripping the armrests for support. “And here I was convinced you came to me for a ship.”

He heard betrayal in the man’s tone and reminded himself Nathaniel Huntley had good reason to feel wronged, though Brogan himself had also been wronged. Brogan was well aware he was not perfect; he had made mistakes, but in his heart he sought forgiveness and to please God.

He squared his shoulders. “I came for my son. I am the boy’s natural father. I am the husband of the late woman who surrendered Benjamin to you. Abigail Russell Talvis. We were a family, or so I thought, until the day she sent our son away and refused to tell me where.”

“The widow. Not a widow at all, as it turns out,” Huntley said in a tone laced with distaste. It was the first time he’d acknowledged acquaintance with Abigail in Brogan’s presence. “And now it seems my own daughter has fallen in love with you.” Crooking his neck, Huntley began to massage the base of his skull as though to ease an ache. “You did not exaggerate, Captain. This is all most revealing. But I would like to know why you didn’t come to me when you first arrived in Duxboro. What were your intentions that you chose to keep your identity hidden?”

Brogan stepped forward and took the chair opposite Huntley’s. Poised on the edge of his seat, he explained everything just as he had to Lorena, beginning with his meeting Abigail along Boston Harbor. He told of Benjamin’s birth and the joy and purpose it brought to his life. He made clear his resolve to be a good father and provider, and how, to his mind, he had been growing successful at both—until Abigail snatched it all away.

Huntley made no attempt to interrupt, but listened quietly. Brogan detailed his search and how he finally came to discover the whereabouts of his son. He explained his desperate plan to commission the Yankee Heart and then sail off with Ben.

“My intentions might not have been honorable,” he admitted, “but at the time all that concerned me was my son. Abigail swore I’d never find him. Soon after, she perished in a blaze that destroyed our home, and I knew, even if I were to locate Benjamin, there was no one to speak for my paternity.”

Huntley’s pensive silence grew unbearable. When at last he spoke, Brogan thought he glimpsed perspiration on the fellow’s brow. “Then tell me why, when you had the opportunity, did you not depart with Drew as planned? Why instead did you go after Lorena?”

“Because, sir, I understand how it feels to have a child you love suddenly snatched away. How far would a father go to save his child? Would he launch a ship after her?”

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