Her words caught in her throat. She felt like wailing alongside Sally but knew she didn’t have that luxury. Why was she always the one who had to be strong?

“Why don’t you join us for supper?” Gloriana knew none of them were going to feel like eating, but it seemed the reasonable thing to say. She got to her feet and placed her hand on Sally’s shaking shoulder. “I’m so sorry. We never know when something like this will happen, and it leaves us so torn apart. I wish I could make this easier on you, but I know nothing can.”

Sally glanced up but said nothing. She buried her face in her hands and continued to cry. There was nothing Gloriana could do. It was best to let Sally have time to mourn.

Taking up her shawl, Gloriana didn’t even bother to wrap it around her body. Instead she made her way home through the cold wind and wondered how it would go with JT.

She didn’t have long to wait. JT came through the door in his usual energetic way. He’d already learned that some ships had gone down, but apparently it hadn’t dawned on him that his father’s boat might be one of them.

“Did you hear about the Pride of Bisbee? It ran aground off Bark Point. They said it was something to behold. Can we maybe go see it?”

Gloriana saw his hopeful expression and wished she could keep him from the coming sorrow.

“JT, I need you to come sit down with me. I have to give you some news.”

“Am I in trouble again?” he asked, his countenance falling.

“No, of course not.” She took him by the hand and led him to the sofa. When they were both seated, she continued. “You know, the storm was very bad. I’m sure other ships ran aground, and I know some . . . well, some sank.”

JT’s expression fell. “Did Papa’s ship run aground?”

“No, but something bad happened.” She waited a moment to let the reality sink in.

“Really bad?” he barely whispered.

“Yes. I’m afraid Papa and the others weren’t able to keep the ship together, and it broke apart.”

“Did they die?”

She bit her lower lip and nodded. JT sat stoically, although there was unmistakable dampness in his eyes.

“It’s all my fault. I was mean to Papa. It’s all my fault.”

She put her arm around his shoulders. “No, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was a bad storm, and these things just happen. It wasn’t your fault.”