For Love of Country by William C. Hammond Read Free Book Online

on his shirt, on the table, and a very small amount in its bowl. Will had already finished his portion and was playing on the floor amidst two armies of
tin soldiers, those painted in red, as usual, having the worst of it from those painted in blue.
    â€œGood morning,” Katherine greeted him. “Would you like some tea? The water’s hot.”
    â€œThanks, I would.” He sat down across from Jamie and made a funny face that ignited a fit of high-pitched squeals. Bits of porridge flew into the air and added to the mess on the chair, table, and floor.
    Katherine placed a steaming cup on the table next to a bowl of sugar brought from Barbados in Lavinia. Richard gave her hand a quick squeeze, exchanging with her that brief but meaningful glance that lovers give each other after a particularly satisfying encounter.
    â€œYou slept well?”
    â€œNever better,” he smiled.
    Katherine kissed the top of his head before directing her attention to the unholy mess that was Jamie. Richard looked down at his older son.
    â€œWho’s the unlucky general today, Will?”
    â€œCornwallis.” Will flicked his fingernail, and the hapless Peer of the Realm flipped over on his side. The battle was over, though Will ignored his father’s acclamation, on purpose it seemed to Richard.
    â€œWhy the long face?” he asked.
    Will glanced up at him, resentment written on his boyish features. “When will you be leaving us again, Father?”
    Richard’s grin vanished. “What do you mean, Will? Why do you ask? Do you want me to leave?”
    â€œNo!” his son cried out. “I don’t ever want you to leave, Father. But you always do! Why? Don’t you like being home with us?”
    Richard felt a lump form in his throat. Will’s questions may have been unexpected, but they were not out of character. Challenging the status quo was his standard approach to life, a trait that apparently he had inherited from his namesake. Whether this inbred tendency boded well or ill for the future, his mother and father could only speculate.
    â€œCome over here, Will.”
    Will shuffled over and sat on the floor before his father. He wrapped his arms around his knees and gazed up inquisitively.
    Richard clasped his son on the shoulder and looked him in the eye. When he spoke, it was in that ageless tone of a parent imparting a life’s lesson to a child. “Will, you ask me why I leave, why I have to go away so often. When I do, it makes you sad. Sometimes it makes you mad. Yes?”
    Will nodded.

    Richard nodded back. “Even when my leaving makes you mad, you miss me while I’m gone, don’t you?”
    Will said nothing.
    â€œI miss you, too,” Richard went on, “and your brother and your mother. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”
    Again Will did not answer.
    Richard searched about the room, feeling the eyes of his family upon him until he settled on an example. “Will, do you see your toy soldiers on the floor over there?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd you liked the sugar you had with your breakfast? And the kite and hoop you play with outside, and your new fishing pole?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd unless I’m mistaken, you still hope to have a boat someday to row out in the bay to catch flounder and pollock?”
    His son nodded
    â€œWill, think on it: if I stayed home and didn’t do my work, I wouldn’t make the money I need to buy these things for you. You wouldn’t have any of them. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
    Will hugged his knees and rested his chin between them. He rocked back and forth on his tailbone as tiny furrows of concentration sprouted on his forehead. Then he nodded, his mind having drawn a conclusion. “It’s alright, Father,” he said. “You can go do your work now.”
    He had not meant it as a joke and was surprised and annoyed