Carolyn tripped over the broken gate and fell on the flagstones, the grocery bags tumbling out of her hands. She pushed herself up, curses forming on her lips. Martha ran down the steps to help her. Jonathan worried the fudgesicls might melt, so he ran in the house with those first, leaving Candy to the heavy lifting.

The Captain met him at the icebox. "Belay that, midshipman," he roared. You'll treat the women of this house with more respect or I'll share the entire box with Scruffy."

Jonathan scrambled to the door and opened it, just in time to allow Martha and Candy to stagger through under the weight of torn grocery sacks.

Outside, Carolyn stood on the steps, pulling her stockings out of the redening wound on her knee.

"Damn Claymore," he heard her mutter in a most unladylike fashion.

"Allow me, m'dear." He waved his hand and the wound vanished, although her panty hose remained torn.

Carolyn gaped in astonishment.

"If you can do that, why don't you fix the pavestone and the gate?"

"Because, my dear, that's Claymore's responsibility."

She rubbed her knee, wondering what else the Captain could do with her body. He vanished, without another word and she rolled her eyes. "You're leaving a woman to do a man's job?"

"No Madame." He materialized to her side on the front porch. "I am leaving a woman to get a quisling to do a handyman's work."

"You know that he's more afraid of you than he is of me," Carolyn scoffed. "You call him."

The Captain looked at her sadly. I'd rather heal her heart, he thought. Not fix the blasted house.