It was a different man who followed us into the cottage. Gone was the easy-going father and in his place was pure warrior.
I'd expected him to be older because of his rank and his years in service, but he couldn't be more than early fifties.
He looked much younger, and so did his wife who was her daughter's mirror image. And seeing him here only brought back memories of the CO.
He stood in front of the four men who were still standing against the wall under guard, his stance like that of a shipmaster. It was obvious he'd spent some time at sea.
He studied the men wordlessly for the longest while until he turned to look at his daughter.
"Which one?" Did he always speak in half sentences?
It didn't matter; she knew exactly what he was asking as was made obvious when she pointed out the kid who'd manhandled her on the beach. He stepped in closer until their noses nearly touched.