“To us.” Smith lifted his glass. “And God help anybody who gets in our way.”
Bess drained her glass. “Maybe we will be toasting three of us soon if we bring Peter into the family.”
“Are you sure you want to?” Smith asked.
“I’d like a son,” Bess said. “We didn’t produce any, and it’s too late now.”
Smith finished his brandy. “If you’re sure, Bess, bring Peter here tomorrow, and we’ll see what he thinks.”
Bess’s smile broadened. “Maybe some good has come out of Quicksilver’s wreckage then, John.” She poured out more brandy. “Here’s to a new addition to our family.”
Quicksilver’s “A new addition,” Smith said and smiled at the pleasure on Bess’s face.
* * *
They found Peter Brown shortly after dawn. Smith had woken early, as he always did, and followed his usual routine of a three-mile
