The Drifter Read Online Free PDF Page A

the scrambled eggs, Carolyn decided not to start the day out on a bad note. Mom’s right … I’m sore because of the moving … and I couldn’t have walked around that much without waking myself up … and bad dreams can seem awfully real.…
    â€œSpit and polish,” Mom said firmly. “Elbow grease.”
    â€œWhat?” Carolyn snapped back and forced cheerfulness into her tone.
    â€œI said elbow grease. You heard me,” Mom teased.
    â€œOh. In other words, you’re going to work me to death.”
    â€œA good cleaning will work wonders with this place. I know we can make it charming again—I mean, it has so much potential!”
    â€œWell … it has something .”
    â€œThink positive, Carolyn.”
    â€œLike … positively awful?”
    Mrs. Baxter walked over and set Carolyn’s plate in front of her. “I was trying to decide … quilts on the beds … flowers on the nightstands … and every evening our guests could meet for hot cider and stimulating conversation in the parlor.”
    â€œAs long as I don’t have to be the stimulating conversationalist who gets things going.”
    â€œI really think this place could be a haven for people. You know … wind and cold out there in the world … warmth and comfort here inside our door?”
    â€œI don’t think Nora would agree with you,” Carolyn grunted, making a game attempt at eating.
    â€œNora wouldn’t agree with anything,” Mrs. Baxter said. “She’d consider it unethical or sacrilegious or something. Anyway, I think Nora’s interesting. It’s natural for people in a small community to be leery of outsiders. And that’s what we are, you know—outsiders.”
    â€œMom …” Carolyn put her fork down, choosing her words carefully. “If what Nora said was true … you know, about people not coming over here from the mainland—then—”
    â€œThey’ll come,” Mom said firmly. She put her hands on her hips and nodded. “They will . We’ll fill this old place with lots of love and”—she drew a deep breath—“they’ll come.”
    Carolyn stared at her for a long moment. Finally she nodded.
    â€œOkay. If you say so.”
    â€œNow, after you finish breakfast, you better get dressed. We have tons of work to do. Beginning with the dishes.”
    â€œCan’t we start instead with the heater?” Carolyn pleaded. “I feel like I’ve been preserved in ice.”
    â€œNora said it didn’t work very well.” Mom sighed. “And by the way, where is Nora—I thought she said she’d be here this morning by seven. I don’t even know why I bothered to let the realtors know we were coming. No one did a single thing to get the house ready for us. You’re right. First on our list—find someone in the village who does repairs. Oh, why didn’t I pay more attention when your father was fixing things around the house? But of course I never dreamed that someday he’d—”
    â€œI’ll be right back,” Carolyn cut her off and hurried upstairs.
    She paused outside her room and looked at the end of the hallway. The attic door was shut, the latch in place.
    She walked over and tried to turn it.
    Locked.
    â€œSea air,” she muttered to herself. “Good for the imagination, obviously.”
    She went into her room and pulled up the shades, frowning at the thick fog beyond the windowpanes. She had the strangest feeling that the whole house was adrift in some churning gray sea. When she’d first woken up this morning, she’d lain in bed listening to the wind and the surf, and it had taken several minutes for last night’s horrors to come back to her. And then she’d thought about Captain Glanton again and the widow’s walk and the shipwreck and the poor doomed sailors calling their own names