Hey look, I did manage to get a new Salt in the Wounds chapter up!

July 1926 – An idyllic morning is shattered by a gunshot echoing across the bay.

Teaser below the cut

John woke early from habit. He stretched in his bed, glancing out the window. Dawn barely peeked over the horizon, a day promising to be warm and calm as the last two weeks. They could all use some rain, but July days like this weren’t bad at all.

Making his way to his dresser and the bowl of water there, John splashed his face and looked in the mirror. . Gray was starting to come into his temples now, just a few strands that told him his twenties were behind him. His body was still firm and strong though, tanned from the sun and hands roughened by work. There hadn’t been anyone in need of rescuing for a while, but of course they were always ready. Downstairs he could hear the kettle starting to boil, which told him Hamish was awake.

By the time he shaved and dressed, Hamish was setting the table. John had always been an early riser, but Hamish had him beat. He smiled at his son; eight years old, slender and strong for his age, dark hair always wild. There were always more rescues in the winter, so instead of attending the village school regularly, John taught him using lesson plans from the schoolmaster, bringing Hamish in once a month or so for the schoolmaster to test, depending on the weather. It was an arrangement that suited everyone, but currently he was free for the summer.

And Hamish already had breakfast and tea ready. John knew he was excited to be going fishing. He loved the water and being out on it. Unlike John, he’d even learned to swim a bit. John took his place at the table and sipped his tea. “Thank you.”

Hamish smiled and picked up his own fork. “You’re welcome.” He dug in with the sort of appetite a young boy could muster. John ate a bit slower, knowing they would still get out on the water before the day got too hot.