She pulled back to wipe her face. “Off doing whatever it is that’s so important.” Like catching Captain Holland’s associates, but she wished to the bottom of her heart he’d stayed with her this afternoon.

“Go on inside,” she said, blotting her tears. “Luke is anxious to see you.” Then she looked at Annabelle. It was time to act like a good Christian, even if she didn’t feel like one. “You too,” she said to Annabelle. “Luke specifically said he’s looking forward to seeing you again. He bears no grudge.”

Gray’s face lit up. Her tiny show of concession seemed to mean the world to him. “Come with us,” he urged.

She scrambled for an excuse but could find none and led the way back inside. She stood near the back of the room to watch the reunion from afar. Moving his arms caused Luke’s burned hands excruciating pain, which made any sort of embrace impossible, but his smile was wide as Gray pulled up a chair beside the bed. After a few greetings, Gray dove right in with the hard questions.

“Did you have to lie to me every time I visited you in Cuba?”

“Do we have to start this off with a reprimand?” Luke asked, and the wind immediately went out of Gray. He winced and turned away but regained his composure quickly.

“You’re right. I’m sorry . . . you’re entirely right.”

Now it was Luke who looked guilty. “Don’t apologize. I’ve caused everyone a lot of grief, and I’m sorry about it.” The conversation faltered to an awkward stop. Luke glanced over at Annabelle, who looked exquisitely uncomfortable. “Is that a new dress?” he asked politely.

Annabelle glanced down and fingered the maroon cotton frock. “No, it was my mother’s. We remade it in the nineties to fit me. Of course, now it’s almost 1902, so it probably needs updating again.”

Gray reached for her hand. “Or we can go shopping and buy something new. I know that strikes terror into your thrifty soul, but we can afford some new gowns.”

“Or maybe Caroline can take her shopping,” Luke said, his eyes calculating.

Caroline shifted in discomfort. “I’m very busy these days,” she dissembled. The last thing on earth she wanted was to be cloistered with Annabelle. Bitter feelings of resentment still lingered, and the petty side of her wanted to keep them stoked.

The silence became awkward, and Annabelle finally spoke. “Caroline and I have very different styles,” she said with an apologetic smile.