Just walking into his own house was an ordeal for Jamie; if he’d been alone, it might have proven impossible. As it was, Cutter plopped down in a kitchen chair and sighed. “I was just gettin’ used to the way she made coffee.”

Jamie ached. “Aye,” he said as Dog wandered into the next room and began whimpering when he didn’t find Bliss. His despair was an uncomfortable reflection of Jamie’s own feelings. “Is ’e goin’ to keep that up?” he demanded shortly as Dog continued his mournful search.

Cutter shrugged. “Been through the house once already, Dog has. I should be grudged over that, I reckon. Raised that scapegrace from a pup, I did, and here he is whinin’ over a red-haired woman.”

Jamie shoved a hand through his hair, took the coffeepot from the stove, and then set it down again with a crash. He didn’t have the heart to drink that brew, knowing that Bliss had made it and wondering how long it would be before he had any that bad again. “I’d like to do a bit of whinin’ meself,” he confessed quietly.

Cutter crossed the room to give his friend a slap on the back and collect the coffeepot. While he was outside getting water, Jamie whistled for Dog, unable to stand the animal’s grief any longer.

Dog came and laid his head on Jamie’s knee, making a melancholy sound in his throat.

“She’ll be back,” Jamie promised, hoping to God it was true.

For two nights before boarding the steamer bound for Brisbane, Reeve, Peony, and Bliss stayed at the Victoria Hotel, and there Bliss had seen Walter Davis again. Once she’d told him about her impending trip to Australia, Walter said that he and his grandfather planned to return soon themselves.

It was nice, she thought to herself as she stood at the railing for a long look at Auckland, to encounter friends unexpectedly. A surprise like that had a way of cheering a person, distracting them from their miseries.

And Bliss, missing Jamie as she did, was awash in misery.

“There now,” Reeve said proudly, pointing to a majestic boat swaying at anchor in the distance. “That ship belongs to me. Bound for the States, she is.”

Bliss’s interest was piqued. She thought of Sam, the man who’d brought Peony out from Auckland, and peered toward the ship, squinting as she tried to make out the name painted on the bow.

“She’s the Elisabeth Lee,” Reeve said, looking at Bliss with mingled concern and amusement. “Do you need spectacles?”

“No,” Bliss said, offended, even as Peony nodded in the affirmative.

Reeve chuckled and shook his head.

“The Elisabeth Lee is the name of the ship Sam was so worried about catching!” Bliss cried, delighted by the small coincidence. “He said she used to be a whaler.”

It seemed to Bliss that a shadow moved in Reeve’s blue-green eyes, but like Jamie, he was quick to hide his emotions. “Aye,” he said remotely. “She was a whaler. Now she carries trade goods.”