Papa chuckled. “Every woman I know says that. It’s a trial for those at home to wait and watch, knowing they can’t do a thing to help. I remember one year a fierce storm came up, and ships were tossed about like toys. One of the ships was right off the shore—we could see the men fighting to get to safety as the ship was breaking apart. The lake was terrible, offerin’ no mercy. We did our best to render aid, but nothing worked, and within twenty feet of safety, those men perished.” He shook his head. “It has always kept me mindful of life’s uncertainties.”

“That’s terrible,” Sally said, looking at the others. “Why could no one throw out a lifeline?”

“The storm was too fierce,” Gloriana replied. She’d heard the story more than once. “They tried over and over, but just as they threw it out, the storm would spit it back at them. They even tried weighting the line and shooting it out.”

“It’s true,” her father said, nodding. “Everything that could be done was done. Sometimes it’s just not enough.”

“But to be there on shore and see those men die.” Sally shuddered. “I wouldn’t be able to bear it if that happened to Scott. I think I’d throw myself into the water as well.”

“Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” Gloriana declared.

The younger woman had paled. She gripped her husband’s hand. “Maybe I should just go fishing with you, and then if anything happened, we’d be together.”

Gloriana laughed. “Papa says having a woman on board a ship is bad luck. He’ll take a cat with him, but not a daughter.”

Papa gave her a wink. “A cat is far less trouble than a daughter, even though there are those who think them just as much bad luck.”

“Well, I know I don’t have any peace of mind until you walk through the door . . . smelly though you may be,” Sally said, looking at Scott.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I have to confess, I love being on the lake. I never felt comfortable in a suit, working in my father’s bank. I could never figure out what was wrong. I thought maybe it was working with numbers, but now I know I need to be outside. I love the wind in my hair and the open water. I treasure it.”

Gloriana had to smile. She’d heard her father say the same thing. He would always come home and tell her stories when she was little. For the first six years of her life, she had been an only child. She had loved being the center of her father’s attention and listened with captive imagination as he described his encounters on the lake.