I laughed. “Thank you.”

“My turn,” he said.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

After that, it was mayhem. Shrieks of laughter. Calls for alliances or for mercy. Everyone participated. Even the skaters came off the pond to join in.

I was digging ice out of my shoe when I heard a male voice holler in pain. I ran to see what had happened, fearing for Asa, but it was Ben Stone who had fallen near the pond.

“My foot!” he said, writhing on his back. “It’s stuck!”

Asa knelt and scooped away the snow. “You broke through a thin layer of ice. Hold still.” He used the blades of a skate to chip away the ice, finally freeing Ben’s foot, but as soon as Ben stood, it was clear he’d injured his ankle. As we headed back to the cottage, his friends had to support him on either side.

Swept up in our antics, we’d lost track of time. The sun had sunk low on the horizon and snow had begun to fall in heavy, silent white waves. I was frozen through. My shoes and gloves soaked. My hair loose, dripping at the ends. I wanted to run to the cottage as fast as I could, but I found myself drifting to the back of the group and drawing even with Asa.

“I’m here under a white flag of truce,” I said.

He looked over, his breath fogging in the dusk. “No need for it. I’m not your enemy.”

I felt a squeezing in my breastbone, like an ache for breath. “Once, I was sure that. Now everything’s changed.”

“Not everything.”

“But it has. Look at where we are.” I waved at the wintry woods. “Look at who we are.”

“Right. I’m Asa Latimer, the smuggler. That must be your beau’s assessment of me.”

I sucked on my chapped bottom lip. I stole information from Duncan and lied to him. But I also wanted to protect him.

“It’s all right—he and I are not friends. And he’s not wrong. I am a smuggler. But a poor one, as I’ve never turned a profit at it. My uncle abhors the pickled and jarred foods that come on the victualing fleets, so I send him fresh goods from time to time. Cabbages, corn, apples. Prime cuts of meat, when I’m feeling especially nefarious. As for ‘Asa Latimer,’ that is who I must be here in New York.” He watched me, waiting for my reaction.

“Because…?”

“Because the truth would not go over well.”

My mind reeled as I understood. He was still a patriot. Still the Asa I’d known on the Ambrosia. I stared ahead, the snowy path blurring.

“I wanted to tell you this months ago. I tried to.”

“And I didn’t let you.” I winced, remembering that first night on the Endurance. “I was awful to you.”

“You were angry and had cause to be. What I said about disliking Grand Bahama…it was rude. I have regretted it very much.”