The Drifter Read Free Page A

the uneasy quiet. She glanced fearfully around the kitchen as though the captain himself might walk through the door at any moment.
    â€œWell, there you go!” Mrs. Baxter said brightly. “My goodness, Carolyn, I think it’s a sign! We really were meant to come here!”
    But Carolyn didn’t answer. She ran her hands slowly along her arms, trying to rub the goose bumps away. She was only half-conscious of Nora putting a steaming cup of tea down in front of her. She stared hard at Nora’s clawlike hands and pale, pointed nails.
    â€œSeriously now,” Mrs. Baxter spoke up, “after all these years of that story being handed down, generation to generation, a lot of the original facts have probably been distorted! Suppose the captain didn’t miss his wife at all? Suppose while he was off playing on the high seas, he fell in love with someone else? And he really wanted a divorce when he got back?” She frowned, thinking. “Hmmm … perhaps some native girl on some exotic island …”
    â€œOh, Mom”—Carolyn sounded exasperated—“you can ruin a beautiful story quicker than anyone I know!”
    Her mother feigned innocence. “Well, I’m just being sensible! We don’t really know, do we? I mean, there’re no eyewitnesses, are there?”
    â€œYou’re impossible,” Carolyn said grudgingly and got up and went into the parlor. She could hear Nora and her mother talking quietly in the background, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying— probably Mom telling her not to fill my head with nonsense .
    Sighing, she walked slowly to the dining room window and peered out into the fog. Even the glass was wet inside, and the room trembled with every gust of wind. She felt clammy all over, as if the sea spray were creeping in through the nooks and crevices of the old house, seeping deep into her soul.…
    I don’t care if it is only a legend … it’s still the most haunting story I’ve ever heard .
    For just the briefest moment there was a break in the fog, and Carolyn stared out at the shadowy surroundings. No trees … not a single neighbor in sight. But Nora had been right about one thing—the coastline was close to the house— too close , Carolyn thought uneasily. She could see now that the house sat on a ledge jutting out from the mainland and into the water, and as far as she could see there was ocean. It seemed to stretch forever, as gray and miserable as the fog.
    Carolyn clutched the windowsill to keep from swooning. Is this what being seasick is? Suddenly she felt so lonely … so vulnerable … so isolated that she fought back tears and closed her eyes.
    She stood that way for several minutes, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Then once more she opened her eyes.
    A chill crept up her spine.
    She drew in her breath and leaned in closer to the window, wiping at the pane with her fingertips.
    There was another shape out there now … something that hadn’t been there only a moment ago—vague and blurry—ghostlike through the fog.
    A person?
    It was impossible to tell for sure, but somehow she had the impression it might be a man—someone tall—someone just standing there, not moving, staring at the house …
    Carolyn hurried to the front door and flung it open. She went out onto the porch and strained her eyes through the fog, opening her mouth to call.
    But the fog streamed around her, empty.
    And the mournful shriek of the wind sounded almost like a human cry for help.

3

    C AROLYN COULDN ’ T SLEEP .
    She’d tried hard to be cheerful through dinner, tried to be cordial when Nora had finally gone home, tried even harder to be enthusiastic over Mom’s growing list of plans for their guesthouse. But now she was tired of pretending, and so she lay in her unfamiliar bed in her unfamiliar room and tried to shut out the distant roar of the sea. Only