Stormy Cove Read Online Free PDF

and watch waterfowl. But to her, the winter countryside seemed forbidding and lifeless.
    Turning to Hope, she asked, “Do you think people here will be open to being photographed?”
    The answer came without hesitation.
    “For sure. Why not? They feel the world has forgotten them. Nobody values small fishermen anymore. The government would rather support huge fleets; the companies make more money and the politicians do, too.”
    She stood up. “Their first question will definitely be: Why did you come here, of all places?”
    Lori didn’t say anything, though she’d practiced an answer to that question. Of course, Mona Blackwood’s name must never come up under any circumstances. Mona had said the project was to be a surprise for everybody.
    “But maybe you could open some doors for me in Newfoundland,” Lori had objected.
    Mona wouldn’t hear a word of it.
    “You’ll have to open doors by yourself, considering that I’ve hired you.”

    Hope went to the counter and then to the front door, where she looked back.
    “Just don’t take any pictures of our baron from Germany. He’s here incognito.”
    Lori didn’t understand until dinner that evening.
    From the six people around the table, she picked out the baron by his accent. He was the only one who was wearing a dressy, form-fitting shirt over his bulky body and who hadn’t rolled up his sleeves. His bald head shone in the light of the table lamp as brightly as his glasses. Lori guessed he was in his late forties.
    “Ah, here’s our new guest,” he called to Lori jovially, as if he owned the lodge. “Do sit down with us.”
    Even before Lori had finished her soup, she’d learned from the baron and his wife—she was considerably taller and slimmer than her husband, but not any younger—that their family came from the former Pomerania and that the baron frequently stayed at the lodge to hunt, and had shot bear, caribou, and moose. Not a word about their title. None of the other diners, all male, introduced themselves. They must not be hunters, Lori thought, as it wasn’t yet the season.
    The baron dominated the conversation.
    “I brought my wife with me this time because we wanted to explore the country by dogsled. Maybe we’ll even see a polar bear if they come off the ice into the villages.”
    Lori looked at him dumbfounded. Nobody had told her there were polar bears.
    “Don’t be afraid,” a man at the end of the table said. “It doesn’t happen very often, only when visitors are here from Germany.”
    Everybody laughed.
    “Keep your camera pretty much under wraps,” the baron said conspiratorially. “We were having a beer with some people in the Isle View pub and said we were from Germany, and somebody asked if I was a German spy.”
    He laughed so loudly that Lori almost dropped her spoon.
    Hope brought a platter of meat for the whole table. “He was only kidding. People here have a peculiar sense of humor.”
    “Oh, we know,” the baroness said. “We know that already. They see old Second World War films made in Hollywood, of course, and that’s their idea of Germans.”
    “Well, I don’t suppose many Newfoundlanders have been to Germany,” Lori interjected politely and then wondered if she sounded condescending. She quickly added, “And probably not many Germans have traveled to Newfoundland until now.”
    “Unfortunately, some Germans were here once and they didn’t make a good impression,” the baroness said, taking hold of her husband’s arm as if to confirm it. “During the War, German submarines did quite a lot of harm, didn’t they, Rudolf? You know more about it.”
    Lori concentrated on her meat, but couldn’t avoid hearing the conversation. Furthermore, the baron’s eyes were always on her when he wasn’t drinking his beer. His gaze was friendly.
    “Yes, interestingly enough, Newfoundland was one of the few places in North America attacked by submarines,” he said. “They caused a lot of damage on Belle Isle