The Drifter (11 page)

“What are you talking about?”

“His name is Joss. He's boarding with us. He's doing odd jobs, and Mom's letting him stay for free.”

“When did that happen?”

“Yesterday after you left. He just showed up.”

“What do you mean, he just showed up?”

“I mean I was out for a walk, and when I got back, he was waiting inside the house. Like he belonged there.”

Andy frowned. “How did he know about you? You're not even open yet.”

“He said he'd asked around in the village. Mom was totally charmed by him.”

“And you weren't?”

Carolyn thought of those black eyes … the broad shoulders … the deep voice …

“He's just some drifter,” she said. “He won't be there forever.”

Andy didn't say anything, and Carolyn rushed on.

“Didn't he tell you what happened? Didn't he say anything about how she is?”

Andy shook his head. “I didn't talk to him. I don't know anything else.”

“Then how did
you
find out about it? How did he know where to call?”

“He didn't. He called 911 and told them what had happened and said someone needed to find you. I guess Nora told him that I knew you, so the dispatcher phoned down to the dock and got ahold of me.”

Carolyn stared at him. “How did you know where I was?”

His smile was quick and warm. He reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I figured, being the determined girl you are, that you'd head straight for that library.”

Carolyn gave a wan smile. She turned back to her window and tried to concentrate on the scenery so she wouldn't have to focus on other, more upsetting things. Like what Mom could possibly have been doing to have an accident. And how long had she lain there before Joss found her and called for help.

Oh, Mom … this can't be happening.…

She thought about Hazel lying helplessly out in the wind and rain. She thought about Molly McClure's weird ramblings, and then with a shuddering breath, Carolyn blanked out her mind so she wouldn't have to think anymore.

“Here we are,” Andy announced, slamming on the brakes. “Looks like the ambulance beat us.”

Carolyn jumped out. She ran up the front steps and into the parlor, bracing herself for the worst.

They were standing in the dining room—Joss and Nora and an elderly man in suspenders—all talking quietly. As Carolyn and Andy came in, Nora pressed a handkerchief to her nose, and the man gave a solemn nod. Joss walked silently to the window and leaned against the sill.

“Where's Mom?” Carolyn demanded. “How is she?”

Joss stared at her. The man mumbled something to Andy that Carolyn couldn't hear, then took a step toward her and put a hand on her arm.

“This is Doc Brown,” Andy introduced her.

His smile was kind but serious. “Sit down, Carolyn.”

“No!” Carolyn nearly screamed at him. “Where's my mother?”

“She took a bad fall.” Doc Brown was talking slowly, as if Carolyn were a small child. “She's unconscious right now, and she's lost a lot of blood.”

“But—but how—”

“She cut herself when she fell,” Doc interrupted. “She's got some pretty nasty bruises, and till we can examine her more closely, I'm not ruling out the possibility of internal injuries. That's why I'm sending her over to the mainland. There's an excellent hospital there, and I want to keep her a few days.”

The room went spinning. For an endless moment, wind seemed to fill the house with wild, panicky screams.

“I want to see her,” Carolyn mumbled. “Where is she?”

That wind
—
why doesn't it stop
—
bad house
—
bad end
…

“—sit down,” someone was saying, and there were hands on her arms, on her shoulders, guiding her to a chair, pushing her into it.

“—shock,” someone else was talking now, and Carolyn looked around at the four faces with her in the room. Andy and Doc were watching her with wary expressions. Nora blended into the shadows of the hallway. Joss's arms were folded across his chest, his eyes narrowed to black slits. He had no expression at all.

“I want to see her,” Carolyn mumbled again.

Before anyone could answer, there was a commotion from the stairs. Carolyn jumped up and ran over, just in time to meet the stretcher coming down.

“Mom?” her voice broke, and she was hardly aware of Joss beside her, trying to hold her back. “What happened, Mom? Can you hear me?”

“She can't,” Joss said quietly. “She fell off a ladder in one of the bedrooms. She must have hit the dresser on her way down and broken the mirror.”

“Oh, my God …”

The stretcher was in full view now, and as the paramedics guided it toward the door, Carolyn stared in horror at her mother's face. If it hadn't been for all the blood, Mom would have looked as if she were sleeping.

“Mom?” Carolyn choked. “Mom, can you hear me?”

“She's unconscious,” Doc said again.

“I'm going with her.” Carolyn followed the stretcher to the front door, but Doctor Brown put a restraining hand on her arm.

“There's nothing you can do, Carolyn. Why don't you just stay here and—”

But Carolyn pushed past him out onto the porch. “I'm going with her.”

“Right,” Andy said quickly. “We'll follow in my car.”

Carolyn gave him a grateful smile. She hurried down the steps after him, then suddenly remembered the house.

“Nora—” She stopped and turned around. The housekeeper was standing by the front door, her heavy black shawl fluttering around her bony shoulders. Perched there on the top step, she reminded Carolyn of a black crow. “Nora, would you mind—”

“Won't do any good,” Nora mumbled, tucking her hands beneath the folds of her shawl, gazing solemnly down at Carolyn.

“What won't?” Carolyn retorted sharply. “What are you talking about? Can you stay and look after the house till I get back?”

“Won't matter one bit,” the housekeeper's voice dropped even more. “Not even if she pulls through this time.”

“What do you mean
this
time?” Carolyn demanded. “Nora?”

But Nora swept down the steps past her, leaving a cold chill in her wake. Carolyn watched her walk off in the direction of the road. Nora didn't look back.

“Where's she going?” Carolyn turned helplessly to Andy. “What's
happening?
”

“Don't worry about the house,” Joss said quietly.

She'd almost forgotten he was there.

At the sound of his voice, Carolyn looked back at the porch. Joss was framed there in the doorway, his eyes narrowed and watchful.

“Don't worry about the house,” he said again. “That's what I'm here for.”

12

“Y
OU CAN
'
T STAY WITH HER
,” A
NDY SAID FOR THE HUN
dredth time. “There's nothing you can do, and she's getting the best care she can get.”

Carolyn sighed and leaned across the table. The hospital coffee shop was practically empty, and her fourth strong refill sat in front of her, cold and untasted.

“Oh, Andy, I'm just so worried—”

“I know you are. But she woke up, didn't she? And she talked to you, so that's another good thing. And she acted like she knew you when they let you go in.”

Carolyn gave a reluctant nod. “I told her I wanted to get a motel room so I could be close to her.”

“What'd she say?”

“She said no. Then she said ‘house.'”

“Which means …”

“Knowing Mom, it means she wants me to go back and finish fixing it up.”

Andy smiled gently.

“She has a one-track mind, you know,” Carolyn tried to joke. “Even on her deathbed, she'd still be worried about that stupid guest house.”

“She's not on her deathbed,” Andy said. “Don't talk like that. She'll be fine.”

Carolyn looked at him hopefully, and he smiled again.

“And then she said ‘paper,'” Carolyn went on.

“Paper?”

“I don't know. I guess because we were talking about advertising this morning when I left the house. She wants to put ads for the guest house in all the papers.”

Andy raised his cup to his lips, watching her over the rim.

“And then she said ‘Joss,'” Carolyn added.

Andy's eyes narrowed. “And what does that mean?”

“I don't know.” Carolyn frowned and shook her head. “I just thought—knowing Mom again—that she wanted me to make sure he was taken care of. She's so thrilled about him being our first guest and all.”

Andy swirled his coffee in his cup. “Sure. That's probably it. Did your mom mention Nora?”

Carolyn thought a moment. She'd had such a short time with her mother in the recovery room, and Mom's speech had been so garbled, that she'd only been able to recognize a few words of their conversation.

“No,” she said, “I'm pretty sure she didn't say anything about Nora.” She gazed at Andy, who avoided her eyes. Then she said slowly, “I guess she'll want Joss to stay on and finish the house.”

“I guess.”

Carolyn looked down at the tabletop. Her head ached and she slowly rubbed her temples.

“Maybe Nora will stay with you,” Andy said softly.

Carolyn looked up with a weak smile. “Is mind reader another of your odd jobs on the island?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “You just look worried, that's all.”

“I'm just wondering …”

“What?”

“I don't know. Why she said Joss's name, I guess.”

“I thought you had that figured out.”

“I don't know,” she said again. Something dark seemed to be nagging at the corners of her mind, but she was too exhausted to deal with it.

“So … what are you gonna do?” Andy asked her, and Carolyn sighed.

“I want to be with Mom, but I can't afford a motel. And I can't just run off and abandon the house—and I can't just leave it with strangers.”

“Nora's not a stranger.”

“And Nora would never stay there, you know that as well as I do. Mom's counting on me to hold things together while she's gone.”

Andy toyed with the handle of his cup. He gazed down at the plastic tablecloth and traced over a stain with his fingertip.

“Anyway, I shouldn't mind so much being alone with Joss, should I? I mean, there're going to be lots of times I'll be alone in the house with just the guests. It's not a big deal.”

“Who are you trying to convince?”

“It's not,” Carolyn said again firmly. “It's really no big deal.”

“It is if you're uncomfortable about it,” Andy corrected her. “And somehow I think you're uncomfortable about it.”

Carolyn opened her mouth … said nothing … shut it again.

“It's just that he”—she looked frustrated, searching for words—“he's so
strange
. So … so …
there
.”

“There?” Andy raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. You know … he has this presence. Don't you get a weird feeling from him?”

Andy shook his head, deadpan. “I hardly know the guy. And anyway, he's not my type.”

“Andy, I'm serious!”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Look, I admit, I'm not a hundred percent comfortable about you staying there alone with him—but I'm not sure if it's only 'cause I know
you're
uncomfortable about it, or if it's 'cause …”

“What?”

“Well …” Andy fidgeted with his cup again … straightened in his chair … crumpled a napkin in his fist. “You know. Just 'cause he's a guy.”

“You're not making sense.”

“You're right. Forget it.”

Andy leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. In his grubby jeans and torn white T-shirt he looked more boyish than ever, and Carolyn smiled as she noticed a smudge of dirt across his forehead and down one cheek.

“The truth of the situation is,” Andy said reasonably, “he's a guest and you're the hostess. He's the handyman, and you're the boss.”

“He also saved my mother's life,” Carolyn reminded him.

Andy stared at her. He seemed to mull this over, then gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Well, he did, didn't he?” Carolyn persisted. “He's the one who called 911 and told them to find me. Even though,” she added graciously, “
you're
the one who really found me.”

Andy seemed deep in thought. He moved his lips slightly, as though talking to himself, and then he shook his head.

“I can't argue with that,” he said at last.

“But what? What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking …” Again Andy started to speak … hesitated … then said, “I'm thinking I better get you home.”