Page 54 of Semper Fi

S ophie inhaled deeply as she walked around to the kitchen door with her suitcase in hand. Clover Grove was just as she’d left it.

Well, almost.

Most of the leaves were off the trees, and a thin layer of snow clung to the roof of the barn.

The orchard extended for another twenty-five acres now, and the young trees were ready to give fruit next year.

The demand for Clover Grove hard cider had grown steadily through the years, and the cider house hummed with activity near the ever-expanding storage and fermentation shed.

She breathed in the sweet, fresh air again. It was good to be home. Her oxfords slipped in a puddle of slush, and mud splashed her stockings. Her knee skirt wasn’t quite as practical here as it was at school.

The rich smell of Sophie’s favorite beef casserole wafted out as she opened the door. Her dad spun around from the counter, dropping the knife he was using onto the cutting board with a clatter. “Sophie?”

“Hi, Dad.” She put down her case and hugged him tightly, relaxing into his warm, familiar embrace as she rested her head on his shoulder.

When she pulled away he checked his watch. The face was scratched and the gold worn, but he’d shrugged her off when she’d suggested getting it fixed or buying a new one .

“I thought you were coming in on the later train?”

“I finished early so I decided to surprise you. Dr. O’Brien gave me a ride on his way home. He said Mrs. O’Brien wants us all to come for lunch on Saturday, and to invite Grandma and Grandpa too.”

“Sure. That’ll be nice. Grandpa might not want to come, but if you give your grandmother a call, you can convince her. What time’s the train on Sunday? Can you stay for church?”

“Of course.” Sophie secretly hadn’t been to a single service since going to college, but she knew it would make her father happy.

“Oh, were you able to meet up with Aunt Rebecca in the city last week on your class trip? I forgot to ask.”

Nodding, Sophie smiled at the memory. “We went for lunch near Central Park, and then took the kids to FAO Schwartz. It was really fun. They’ve gotten so big now. Stephen’s almost seven and Lucy’s five already. Uncle Luke’s got a new job on Wall Street. Aunt Rebecca said he likes it a lot.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Dad took hold of her shoulders, smiling the way he did when he got sentimental, the little wrinkles deepening around his eyes and mouth. He asked, “And how are you? How are your classes?”

“Since we talked on Sunday night? They’re still good, and yes, I’m still studying hard.”

“I know you are, sweetie. Look at you. A college girl.” Something flickered across his face. “Your mother would be so very proud.”

The old familiar sadness flowed through Sophie for a moment. “I know she would.” She smiled. “Geez, don’t make me cry already. I’ve only been home for five minutes.”

“Sorry.” He ran his hand over the short waves of her hair. “You cut it. Looks beautiful.”

Sophie beamed and patted where her hair curled just under her ears. “Thanks, Dad. Where’s Uncle Cal?”

“In the barn. Why don’t you say hello while I finish up dinner?”

She grinned. “You made my favorite. ”

“Of course. Mostly because it’s one of the only things I can cook, and Cal’s making the Thanksgiving turkey tomorrow. He says I’m allowed to mash the potatoes and that’s it.”

“A wise move after last year.”

Dad picked up a dish towel and snapped it at her playfully before she escaped outside, squinting at the sun disappearing beyond the treetops. She thought about going to change into her old overalls as she hopped over a puddle of slush, but didn’t want to take the time.

From the paddock, old Trixie nickered, and Sophie called out softly as she passed, her breath clouding the wintry air. “I’ll see you soon, girl.”

The barn was still green, but a deeper shade that had been freshly painted that summer.

She admired it as she drew near, smiling as she remembered how they’d all ended up splashed in green after Adam decided to splatter Uncle Cal and their dad with his paintbrush.

Sophie hadn’t gotten it out of her hair for days.

Inside the barn, Uncle Cal looked up from where his head pressed against Gretchen’s flank as he milked her. “Would you look at what the cat dragged in.”

In the corner, Finnigan raised his head as well, his tail wagging.

He trotted over slowly. Sophie bent low and scratched behind his ears.

He was too old to chase deer now, and she was relieved to see him again, knowing it wouldn’t be much longer for him.

“Hi, Finnigan. Are you keeping Uncle Cal out of trouble?”

“Never. Trouble’s my middle name.” Uncle Cal hauled her up into his arms and gave her a spin.

Her laughter echoing in the rafters, she clung to him.

Uncle Cal placed her gently on her feet and brushed back her coiffed hair. “Very stylish, Miss Bennett. You’re early. Eager to leave the bright lights of Ithaca behind?”

She grinned. “Something like that.” Reaching up, she touched the hair by his temples. “You didn’t have gray in September. Must be because you miss me.”

He nodded seriously. “It must be. Or I’m getting old, and it can’t be that.”

Laughing, Sophie went to Gretchen and gave her a pat. “You’re only thirty-nine. It’s not that old.”

“Thank you. That’s very reassuring. You want to take over? I’m sure Gretchen won’t mind. She’s never kicked anyone—not even me.”

They shared a smile as Sophie took the stool. She leaned down and pulled gently. The rhythm of milking was strangely comforting. After a few moments of peaceful silence, she gathered her nerve. “I met a boy,” she blurted, and then mentally cringed. This wasn’t at all how she’d rehearsed it.

“Did you?” Uncle Cal didn’t sound too thrilled. “All right, tell me more about this boy.”

“His name’s Matthew, and it’s not like that. We’re just friends. We sit together in American lit.” She pulled steadily, the milk squirting into the bucket. With a deep inhale, she rushed on. “He’s a homosexual.” Holding her breath, Sophie dared a glance back.

Uncle Cal was frozen in place where he stood leaning with one shoulder against the wall. He cleared his throat. “Is he?”

“Uh-huh.” Sophie’s pulse zoomed as she went back to milking, watching the bucket fill. “I don’t really see what the big deal is. Doesn’t bother me.”

“It doesn’t?” Uncle Cal’s voice was strained.

“Nope.” There was no milk left, so she stood and backed out of the stall. Sophie shrugged and forced herself to meet his gaze. “Not at all.”

Slowly, a smile lit up Uncle Cal’s face. “That’s good to know.”

“Maybe…” Her nerve faltered.

“What, sweetheart?”

“Maybe you could tell my dad some time. Or I could. We could. I think it would be good. For him to know.”

Nodding, Uncle Cal swallowed hard. “It would.”

Finnigan barked as Adam burst into the barn, dropping his bike with a clatter. His jeans were splattered with mud and getting too short for him. He was even ganglier than she remembered, all awkward limbs and pimples, and his hair had lost all its blondness now. Sophie grinned. “Hey, goober.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you too old to call me that now?”

“I’ll never be too old to call you goober.” She pulled him into a hug. He pretended to be reluctant the way he usually did now, but he still held her close. She leaned back. “Christ, you’re almost taller than I am already.”

“Whoa, is that the kind of language they’re teaching you at Cornell?” Uncle Cal chuckled. “Don’t let your father hear you talk like that.”

Dad’s voice floated down from the house. “Dinner’s ready!”

Adam patted his scrawny belly. “Thank God—I’m starving.” He took off at a run. “Come on!”

Uncle Cal put his arm around Sophie’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Good to have you home.”

She wrapped her arm around his waist tightly, and they made their way back to the warm glow of the house as the night settled in, laughing as they puddle jumped.

In the kitchen, they took their regular seats at the battered old table. Sophie’s chair still tilted when she leaned to the left, but she’d probably miss it if her dad or Uncle Cal fixed it.

After only a few bites, Adam flung a pea at her.

Dad said that was enough, so of course Uncle Cal tossed a pea at him.

Dad retaliated, and Sophie launched her own attack, and soon peas flew off their forks every which way.

They laughed so hard that dinner took forever to eat, but she didn’t mind at all.

Read breeches-ripping historical romance from Keira Andrews

Will a virgin captive surrender to this pirate’s sinful touch?

Nathaniel Bainbridge is used to hiding, whether it’s concealing his struggles with reading or his forbidden desire for men.

Under the thumb of his controlling father, he’s sailing to the fledgling colony of Primrose Isle, where he’ll surrender to a respectable marriage for his family’s financial gain.

Until pirates strike and he’s kidnapped for ransom by the Sea Hawk, a legendary villain of the New World.

Bitter and jaded, Hawk harbors futile dreams of leaving the sea for a quiet life. But men like him don’t deserve peace. He has a score to settle with his captive’s father—the very man whose treachery forced him into piracy—and he’s sure Nathaniel is just as contemptible.

Yet as days pass in close quarters, Nathaniel’s feisty spirit and alluring innocence beguile and bewitch. The desire to teach Nathaniel the pleasure men can share grows uncontrollable. What’s the harm in satisfaction?

Hawk would never feel anything for him…

Nathaniel realizes the fearsome Sea Hawk’s reputation is largely invented.

He sees the lonely man beneath the myth, willingly surrendering to his captor body and soul.

As a pirate’s prisoner, he is finally free to be his true self.

With danger mounting, the time for Hawk to relinquish his prize looms. Will his greatest battle be with his own heart?