‘Whatever he did, it will never take away from the fact he was your father and I should have told you the truth. I will swear on the Bible, I truly believed Richard was dead,’ she said. ‘I believed he had drowned at sea, just as I told you but everything else I’ve done, every lie I told, was to protect you and give you a chance at a good life.’

Danny looked away. ‘I don’t think he was a good man, Mama.’

‘Danny, I’m sorry,’ Mama said.

He slid down in the bed and rolled onto his side with his back to his mother. A mistake, as his sore arm complained about being laid on.

‘I’m tired,’ he said.

Her fingers brushed the hair from his forehead. He ignored her and pretended to be asleep.

Caleb, leaning against the wall outside Danny’s bedroom door, let out a breath as the boy said, ‘I’m tired,’ in a strangled tone.

The door opened and Adelaide left the room, her hand lingering on the handle as she quietly closed the door behind her. She started as Caleb pushed away from the wall.

‘You heard?’ she whispered.

He nodded.

She walked past him into the kitchen and leaned her hands on the table, her hair escaping from the loose braid at the nape of her neck and tumbling around her face. ‘He hates me,’ she said.

Caleb hesitated before placing his hands on her shoulders. She seemed oblivious to the fact she wore only a light cotton nightdress and it had slipped, leaving her right shoulder exposed. Her skin quivered beneath his fingers and he took a ragged breath.

‘He doesn’t hate you,’ he said. ‘Give him time, Adelaide. The past few weeks have been confusing for him. He’ll work it out.’

She shook her head. ‘I wish I had your confidence.’

He ran his thumb up the side of her neck, expecting her to push him aside. When she didn’t move, he bent his head and kissed her shoulder, letting his lips follow the path made by his thumb until he reached her ear. She leaned her head to one side as he buried his face in her hair. Despite the wash, it still smelled faintly of smoke and he breathed in the scent of burning gums, remembering the moment when they thought they would die.

He wanted her—all of her. His whole body ached for her but he knew now was not the time. Not on the kitchen table, with Netty and the boy on the other side of the door.

Adelaide turned in his arms, nestling her head against his chest. ‘It’s such a mess,’ she murmured. ‘What if the town finds out?’

‘They’ll be lighting firebrands and brandishing pitchforks,’ he replied.

She looked up at him. ‘This isn’t funny.’