The Ebbing Tide Read Online Free PDF Page A

from his. His hands came out to touch her shoulders; not to rest lightly but to grip hard. His mouth seemed hard, but it was not; neither were his eyes furious as they darkened. Only intent. The grip on her shoulders, biting through her jacket, drew her closer to him.
    â€œJo—” He started to say her name, and the word was smothered as his arms went around her in an embrace like steel, and his mouth was against her throat. She stood motionless in his arms, seeing the dark empty woods towering over them, feeling the sun warm on her lifted face. She was still, but there was a slow trembling inside of her, as if deep within the tears were beginning to well. She brought up one hand and laid it on the back of his neck; her cheek was against his fair hair, it smelled cleanly of wind and sunshine.
    â€œNils, my darling,” she said quietly. It was not often the word was used between them. “ My darling . . .”
    After a moment he lifted his head and his eyes blazed into hers. “It’s—leaving you —” The words came harshly, with difficulty. But they were enough for her to understand, and she felt a fierce joy. He wanted her to be sure that nothing else mattered but her; not even the Island could have any part of him at this time.
    â€œBut not for the last time,” she told him passionately. “Nils, it isn’t the last time! I know what you think, but I know what I know! ”
    â€œDon’t talk,” he said. “Don’t talk, Joanna.” He cut off her protest with his mouth on hers.
    The cabin was open and waiting; the Donna swung gently at anchor in a globe of shining silence.

3
    I N THE MORNING THE RAIN blew in from the east in gray sheets. The warmth and stillness and color of the day before seemed like a dream. The wind was strong enough to sway the birches and the alders, and edge the seaward side of the Island with surf; but there was only a faint quiver to the tips of the spruce boughs. By Island standards, it really wasn’t a wind at all. Certainly, not enough wind to keep Nils from going. Owen would take him to Brigport to meet the mail boat, which had stopped coming to Bennett’s when the mail did, years before.
    Joanna didn’t plan to go over to Brigport with him. They had had their good-byes, it would mean nothing to them, the waiting around the harbor of the other island, watching the freight being taken off, and the gulls perched on the wet ledges in the rain, feeling the chill that was not alone from the March rain but from the occasion itself.
    She left Jamie with Nils’ cousin, Thea, who lived on the other side of the windbreak, and walked down to the wharf with Nils. Owen had gone out already and brought the White Lady in. She waited at the old wharf, over by the long pebbly beach where the boats were hauled up for repairs and the skiffs and dories kept. Nils was in his uniform today as a Chief Boatswain’s Mate in the Coast Guard. Until this morning he had been the familiar Nils, the lobsterman. Now, in navy blue, with the dark trim raincoat and the neat bag, she recognized once more the futility of believing that he was hers alone. He was going because he must, he would go where he was sent, and nothing she might do or say could alter his course. For the duration, neither she nor Jamie could come first with Nils.
    It was nothing to cry about, nothing to brood about. She was simply one of millions of women, and the wonder was that she had come to accept it so calmly, she thought, as they walked along together in the rain, through a village that was almost deserted. She’d always had such a strong sense of her own individuality as a person that it had got in her way at times. Well, there was nothing like a war to snap you out of it.
    They turned by the fish houses and walked along the shore, past the Arey house where Nils’ brother Sigurd lived. Sigurd’s housekeeper knocked on the window and waved frantically at