“Isn’t she lovely? Just like her mother.”
Thomas stepped back and admired his two-year-old daughter as she spun, giggling as her skirt flounced. He’d purchased the fanciest, frilliest dress he could find, and he seemed quite satisfied with himself.
“You spoil her.”
Brynja chuckled as she kissed him on the cheek.
“It’s a sad day indeed when a father can’t spoil his daughter. Do you like your dress, Ingrid?”
The little girl bobbed her head, her blonde ringlets bouncing happily. Her blue eyes glistened as she clapped her chubby hands. Thomas smiled at his wife, then his daughter. Both of the women in his life had him wrapped around their little fingers.
“Of course you may spoil your daughter. Far be it from me to suggest otherwise.”
Brynja shook her head and feigned irritation, but they both knew it was a ruse. She found it impossible to remain angry with the man who had completely captured her heart.
“In case you were worried that I forgot about you”—Thomas reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small box—“I’ve brought something else.”
Her eyes widened as she lifted the lid, seeing the lovely gold rose brooch with a diamond center inside.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it. It reminded me of your rose garden, which is going to be a wonder once it grows.”
“Yes, it will.” Brynja hugged Thomas tightly. “Thank you.”
“I love buying gifts for you and Ingrid. You may call it spoiling if you like, but I will continue to do so.” He grinned.
“I know you will.”
“That’s not all I did in town today. I also had a meeting, Brynn.”
“I know.”
Brynja’s heart squeezed inside her chest. She knew what Thomas was going to say before the words were spoken. She would beg him to reconsider, but in the end, he wouldn’t listen.
“How do you know I had a meeting?”
“After all this time, Thomas, do you really need to ask?”
He shook his head. “I suppose I don’t.”
“Tell me about your meeting.”
Thomas sat on the velvet couch, and Brynja sank into the armchair opposite him. Ingrid, blissfully unaware of the drama between her parents, played with her blocks in the corner.
“I’m going to sea. There’s a shipment that needs to be delivered to San Francisco, and I’ll be the captain.”
“Thomas—”
“No one has more experience with the waters of that area than I do,” he explained.
“Please don’t go, Thomas.”
“It’s a course I’ve sailed plenty of times, Brynn. I’m the man to do it. I’ll be there and back in no time.”
“I’m begging you, please don’t go,” she persisted.
“Have you seen something that would convince me I shouldn’t?”
“Nothing definite, but I’ve seen things which worry me greatly.”
Brynja stood, then perched herself next to Thomas on the couch. She clutched his hand in hers, desperate to convey her concern.
“Tell me what you’ve seen, Brynn,” he persisted.
“I’ve been having dreams.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re in danger. I’m afraid you won’t return.”
“Have you seen anything for certain?”
Brynja paused for a moment, considering her answer. She knew if she told Thomas she’d foreseen his death, he wouldn’t go. But to tell him that would be an outright untruth, since she had seen no such thing. She detested dishonesty, and she couldn’t bring herself to tell Thomas a bald-faced lie. It was more an overwhelming sense of doom, something she couldn’t articulate.
“I have seen nothing for certain. It’s just a feeling.”
“Then we have our answer. If I were truly in danger, you would have seen it, my love. You always do,” Thomas reasoned. “I’ll leave tomorrow and be home before you know it.”
“But, Thomas—”
“Yes, darling?”
“I love you.”
Brynja was on the verge of falling apart. Terror squeezed her heart so tightly she could barely breathe.
More than anything in the world, she wanted to be wrong.
But somehow, she knew she wasn’t.