He sighed, his eyes closed, letting his head loll in my hands as I worked the blood out of his curls. “There were more men than our scouts told us there would be.”

“How many more?”

“About one hundred. Give or take. It wasn’t going well.”

“I can tell by all this blood.”

He chuckled. “General Gonzalez wanted to retreat.”

“Obviously you didn’t.”

“Of course not!” He sat up straight, sloshing water out of the basin. “I raised my sword and yelled, ‘There is no time!’ And really there wasn’t. If we hadn’t pushed through, we would never have won.”

I moved so that I could face him and wiped a wet curl from his face. “You are a stubborn man, José Garibaldi.”

He smiled, pulling me almost into the basin, kissing my stomach. “With any luck, this child will be just as stubborn as his father.”

“Lord help me.” I laughed.

* * *

The children woke at the sound of us slipping back into the cabin. They jolted to life and sprang on José. Teresita attempted to hang from his neck while Menotti aimed for his midsection. “Careful. Papai got a little hurt,” he said, wincing as he pried Teresita off him.

“Ow?” Teresita asked with great concern in her little eyes.

“Sì, principessa.” He pushed the hair back from her face and gently kissed her forehead.

“Can I see it?” Menotti asked, bouncing up and down slightly with excitement. José grinned and lifted up the side of his shirt as the children drew closer to peer at the wound.

I watched my family in a dreamy haze. Feliciana once told me you can never lose family. At the time we had been speaking of my mother and sisters, remarking on how I was dead to them. Sentimentality for what once was had left me with a pang of guilt, but here, as I watched my children climb over José, I knew that Feliciana was right. This was my family and I would never lose it.

“I have a surprise for you,” José said, ruffling our son’s hair. Menotti’s face grew ecstatic at the prospect of a gift from his father. “But it’s waiting for you at the dock.”

Menotti rushed from the room and darted up the ship’s stairs like a cat chasing a mouse.

“Be careful!” I called after him just as I realized it was of no use. José kissed my cheek and followed his son. Teresita and I made it topside shortly after Menotti, who was already at the railing, standing next to his father.

“Where is it, Papai? Where is my present?” he asked, jumping up and down.

José had a silly grin on his face. He pointed to a trio of horses that waited by the dock. “Do you see that pony? The brown one with the large white spot on his nose?”

“Yes,” Menotti answered, his voice rising with anticipation.

“He’s yours.”

Menotti squealed with glee as he ran down the plank and onto the dock, dodging sailors until he made it to his horse.