Thinking back to the only other time I had ever seen them together, I found myself wondering if their relationship had been more than simply dear friends. And I remembered something Mother had said last spring, indicating her brother Jefferson and I weren’t the only members of the family who preferred our own sex. Had she? Or could she possibly have been referring to my father? I’d never know for certain. Neither of my parents was careless enough to commit information of that nature to paper…
“They’re amazing women, ain’t they?”
Goddammit! I wheeled to face the craggy-faced blond who seemed to morph out of the dim shadows. I hadn’t brought my handgun with me, but I carried the pocketknife Father had given me, and while my overcoat would restrict my movements, I was nevertheless ready to defend myself.
He smiled wryly, as if he could read my thoughts. “No need for violence, mate.” He extended his hand. “I’m Bart Freeman.”