Nantucket Sisters Read Online Free PDF

leads to Thaddeus’s property, rolling out in all directions, as roughly unassuming and straightforward as Thaddeus himself.
    As they tumble out of the Jeep, Thaddeus says, “Let me show you the barns and the dock before we go inside.”
    “Lead on, MacDuff,” Frances says happily.
    “Well, there’s the house.” Thaddeus points at a large, weathered, rambling structure with a wisteria trunk thicker than a man’s thigh plaiting its elaborate path over the front door. “I inherited all thisfrom my father, which is only right. My sister, bless her soul, she died a few years ago, never had much interest in this wild chunk of land. She was one for the city. I helped Dad build additions to the house, and together we put up the boathouse and dock, two sheds, and the barn.”
    Frances, Ben, and Maggie amble behind Thaddeus as he leads them toward the various buildings. After a few quick peeks inside, they exchange amused glances with each other. The sheds and barns are crammed with two-by-fours, pieces of metal, loops of rope, wooden crates, parts of engines, fish hooks, battered buckets, torn shirts, rusting cans of oil, and what seems like thousands of other indistinguishable items.
    “I know, I probably seem like a crazy old hoarder,” Thaddeus remarks, as if reading their minds. “But remember, after all, I live on an island. When I was a boy, I was taught to save everything, every extra piece of rotted wood, hubcap, shard of glass, all of it. We never knew when we might need them, and we never have had a Home Depot here and never will.”
    “Oh, I understand,” Frances tells him, laughing. “When we rented our cottage, we found three drawers in the kitchen marked: ‘Long String,’ ‘Short String,’ ‘String Too Short to Use.’ ”
    “Exactly,” Thaddeus says. “Back then, we didn’t have UPS or FedEx, either. Just a Sears office so we could order from the catalog. Now hop in the Jeep. We’ll go down to the dock.”
    With Ben and Maggie bouncing along in the back, Thaddeus steers the Jeep along a rough dirt track through low green brush and miniature wildflowers until suddenly they’re at the dancing blue waters of the harbor. At the dock, a red rowboat is tied.
    Maggie notices a boathouse with its worn gray shingles and white-trimmed windows, but Ben runs straight to the rowboat.
    “Can we take her out?” Ben asks.
    “Absolutely.”
    Ben jumps in, claiming the middle seat where the oarlocks are. Thaddeus helps Frances then Maggie into the rocking wooden boat, and climbs in after them.
    “Take her out,” Thaddeus tells Ben, who pulls on the oars with such authority they spurt far out into the water.
    The sun pours down on them so that the oars drip sequins. The only sound is the splash of the oars. Ben rows while Maggie and Frances recline, dipping their fingers in the water.
    “Thaddeus,” Frances says, “this is lovely. It’s as if we’re right in the middle of a picture.”
    Thaddeus’s cheeks grow pink. “Now that way”—Thaddeus points—“you can glimpse the town. See, there’s the Congregational Church steeple.”
    “It looks like the cupolas are floating,” Maggie says.
    “That way, of course I’m sure you know, is Pocomo.” Thaddeus waves his large hairy hand to the north. “Good for windsurfing, I hear.”
    “Oh, Lord.” Frances sighs. She’s terrified of Ben windsurfing, certain he’ll break his leg.
    “I’ve done it,” Thaddeus announces. “It’s easy if you’re strong, and Ben sure is strong enough.”
    Ben grins widely and gives the oars another powerful pull.
    Frances’s lips crimp a little as they do when she’s displeased, but Thaddeus catches her eye and winks at her and her mouth relaxes into a smile.
    Maggie, observing this, googles her eyes at her brother, but he’s too busy rowing to notice her.
    “We should go back,” Frances says. “We haven’t seen the house yet.”
    Maggie’s the first one out of the boat. While Ben and Thaddeus tie up at