Just about.

“They’re in the garden luv.” Joanna told Brenan, “You go ahead, I’ll be there in just a minute.” Moving through the neat house with its comfortable furniture to the back door Brenan felt a small twinge of jealousy. He didn’t envy Davy’s success or even his modest home that seemed palatial compared to the cramped quarters of sailing ships. But Davy had a wife who doted on him, two boys who where growing as fast as blade grass, and friends who visited him sharing stories and asking him for advice. Brenan could not imagine any path his future could lead that could move him to a life like this.

So far the closest he had ever gotten to a committed relationship with a woman was to have preferred whores at the brothels he’d visit when in town. Not quite the same as marriage; at best he saw himself living with a woman - an image of Red tried to form in his mind but he pushed it away fiercely - and sharing quiet conversations and comfortable silences.

Children were out of the question, with his poisoned childhood, and experiences both in the Veer army and then later as a pirate it would be criminal for him to try to raise a family. As for friends, Brenan had seen too many acquaintances die to allow himself to make friends. Just as well he decided with a grimace as he stepped through the back door quietly, his social skills as they were Brenan doubted that he was the type of person that people would want to spend time with.

Brenan stepped through the back door quietly and took in the scene in the garden. Davy was sitting on a bench swing rocking it gently with one foot on the ground, his two boys who would normally be all over him were instead captivated by the other two men in the garden. The younger boy, almost three by now was pointing excitedly to pictures in a book and talking a mile a minute to a slender man whose amusement was not quite hidden by a tangle of wavy brown hair that had escaped its hair tie and now nearly covered his straight nose and thin smiling lips.

Slightly further away was a brawnier version of his brother, the same curly brown hair and smile, but this man’s nose had been broken sometime in his youth, and his bare legs and arms where thick and corded with muscle. He held both a straight sword and a parrying dagger in his hand and was moving slowly in a choreographed series of moves. It was impossible to gauge how dangerous he would be in a fight, because of the deliberateness of the motions, but Brenan suspected that he would not want to have to face this man in a duel. Behind him, armed with two branches was Davy’s older son, now a little over four years old was mimicking the motions of the swordsman, Brenan doubted that the rotund child had the makings of a duelist, but for now it was clear that he had a new hero. The man finished his exercise, and sheathing his weapons he turned to face Brenan.

“Are you Captain Kilgore?” He asked startling him just a little, Brenan had thought that his quiet observation of the garden had gone unnoticed. Clearly the swordsman had spotted him at some point in the drill, but even in hindsight Brenan could not think of any indication he had given of seeing Brenan.

“Yes, Joanna said I’d find you back here.” Brenan quickly recovered and stepped out into the grassy yard to meet the two men. The picture book the slender brother had been studying appeared to be about different types of ships and their rigging. Davy slid off the bench and herded the brothers closer to where Brenan stood. As always, Davy’s boys moved behind their father; the two seemed as uncomfortable with him as he was with children.

“Brenan, this is Julien and James Caruthers.” He said indicating the swordsman first and then the other. “They are looking for a ship to serve on and I think you could do worse.” Brenan hadn’t planned on taking on two untrained deckhands, but with Red’s help he thought he could make it work. Also, according to Davy both these men had other useful talents. If James was as talented with a sextant as Julien was with his blades they could be valuable additions to the ship. Brenan’s one concern was in the men’s attitudes.

“You two know you’ll be the lowest ranked of all the deckhands. I’m afraid that means taking orders from just about every else on board and you’ll end up with the worst jobs that no one else wants to do.” Brenan intended to have all the crew share the workload, but he couldn’t afford to have aristocratic men who refused to perform certain tasks because of pride or honor. At least he didn't have to worry about how they'd react to a midnight smuggling run as their very first mission.

“Captain, we were raised by an old sailor.” James looked him squarely in the eye as he answered. “Grandpa Wilhelm never let us shirk a task for as long as he was alive, we know how to work sir, and we’re not afraid to get our hands roughed up.”

“Well Captain” Davy asked “Can you use them?”