Yes, there he was. The moment he looked
up, she knew for certain that she hadn’t been
mistaken. Though the resemblance between
him and Will was not as uncanny as some
would lead one to believe (at least not this
older version of Bootstrap; perhaps when he
was younger, it had been more noticeable),
she could see some of Will’s features in his
own. Bootstrap, however, had a hint of world
weariness about him that Will had fortunately
not yet developed.
An unrestrained smile brightened up her
features as she kicked up her pace a little bit
to meet him.
”I knew that must have been you,” she commented,
giving him a quick once-over in a brief attempt to
assess his state of being. He didn’t look to be in
terrible condition, which came as a bit of a relief.
Regardless of how absent he’d been in Will’s life
(and not always by choice), Bootstrap was still as
good as family to her now. Perhaps she wouldn’t
have the opportunity to spend the holiday with her
own father, but he seemed to be a decent substitute.
"What are you doing here? Imagine, of all the ports
in all of the world, we happened to be in the same
one. And just in time for the holiday, too.”
Elizabeth raised her chin a bit to look up at the
sky, admiring the snowflakes floating lightly
through the air.
"I’d nearly forgotten how much I enjoyed the
snow,” she added after a moment, though
she drew her coat tighter around her frame.
She was fond of the snow, and had always
made a point of going out and playing in it as
a young child in England, but the harsh bite of
the cold was something she could have done
without.
Oh, it had been quite a while since there had
been such joy in his heart that he felt when
he saw her. When had he been so happy, in
the years since he'd resigned himself to a fate
aboard the Dutchman----and, likely, even before
that? He couldn't remember at all, though he
supposed he could blame that on how long he'd
been serving Jones. So, thank goodness, no,
thank God, someone had come along who he
could smile just by looking at.
His gait wasn't fast nor smooth enough to
reach her first, not anymore. But when he
was close enough, his hands reached out
toward her, to grasp hers. A small smile
cracked across his dry lips, and for the
first time in a long time, this one extended
to his eyes.
"It's s' good t' see ye," he replied, looking
over her. She looked almost exactly as he
remembered; if he was remembering her
correctly, that was. Still, even if he wasn't,
she looked wonderful, and seemed to be
in good health and none too terrible spirits.
And of course, it did a miracle for his own
spirits to know that she was happy to see
him as well. He did wonder, often, about
William too----but at the moment, he was
lucky to have anyone at all to spend the
holiday with at all. She was more than
enough, and he was blessed to have
have her company.
A small laugh hissed through his teeth,
before his answer came. "Same 's ye,
nay doubt. Ain't nary a captain who'd
wanna take a chance wit' th' seas wit'
th' possibility o' snow.... 'specially s'
close t' Christmas. We needed t' dock
f'r supplies, anyway."
He made a point of keeping his hands
around hers, partly to help them both
with warmth, and partly because the
closeness of another person had been
so rare and valuable to him nowadays.
"It's righ' beautiful, ain't it though? One
thing I always look forward t' ev'ry
winter, th' snow. R'minds me of m'
Annie, m' dearest... William's mother."
