The Drifter (8 page)

“I'm sorry about your husband,” Joss said, and his voice was very soft, very deep. “Maybe it's good I'm here.”

Mrs. Baxter mulled this over. At last she smiled.

“Yes. Yes, I think it might be.”

“
Please
, Mom”—Carolyn made a quick gesture toward the kitchen door—“I really need to talk to you.”

“What is it, Carolyn? Can't it wait a minute?”

“Don't mind me,” Joss said. “Go ahead.”

“I'll be right back,” Mrs. Baxter promised, and then as she glanced toward the hallway, “Oh, come in, Nora. Meet our first real guest, Joss Whitcomb.”

Joss stood up, but as Nora came slowly into the room, a puzzled look went over his face.

“Not ready for guests,” Nora sniffed. “He'll just have to make do.”

“It's not a problem, Nora.” Mrs. Baxter sighed. “Joss is going to help us out for a while, doing repairs around the house.”

“This is Nora?” Joss sounded so funny that Mrs. Baxter turned to him in surprise.

“Why, yes. Hazel's housekeeper I was telling you about.”

Nora's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but Joss didn't seem to notice.

“Then who's the other woman?” he asked.

As everyone turned to stare at him, he gestured toward the front of the house.

“The one I saw when I came in,” he added.

Mrs. Baxter shook her head. “I don't know who you mean. There's no one out here but us.”

“But she was standing up there,” he insisted quietly. “Up on the widow's—”

He broke off as the tray Nora was carrying crashed to the floor.

“No,” Nora whispered, and her hands fluttered feebly to her throat as though she couldn't breathe—“
No!
”

She took a step backward, into the shadows.

And before anyone could move, her body crumpled to the floor.

9

“N
ORA
!” M
RS
. B
AXTER CRIED.
“O
H, DEAR, PUT HER HERE
on the couch! Carolyn, quick, call a doctor!”

Carolyn watched helplessly as Joss carried Nora back to the parlor. In black dress and shawl and stockings, the housekeeper resembled some grotesque stain spreading across the horsehair sofa.

“Carolyn,
now!
” Mrs. Baxter ordered.

Carolyn hurried to the phone. She lifted the receiver and started to dial, but a strong hand closed firmly over hers. Startled, she looked up into Joss's eyes.

“There's no need for that,” he said quietly.

Carolyn's heart raced. She couldn't take her eyes from his. A muscle clenched in his jaw, and he pulled the phone away, replacing it on the table.

“Carolyn, will you please—” Mom broke off as Joss knelt beside the couch. He pressed his hand to Nora's forehead, massaging gently. Almost at once the housekeeper's eyes fluttered open.

“She'll be all right,” Joss said.

He stood and moved back. He leaned casually against the mantel, and Mom stared at him in dismay.

“Nora?” Mom patted the woman's cheek, slipping one arm beneath her back to prop her up.

At first Nora didn't seem to remember anything. Her eyes darted from Mrs. Baxter to Carolyn and then around the room, finally coming to rest on Joss.

“Nora, wake up,” Mom coaxed. “You fainted, that's all. You scared us all silly.”

Nora had regained a little color, though she still looked pinched and strained. She pulled out of Mrs. Baxter's grasp and got slowly to her feet, and by the time she was standing again, she'd managed to perfectly recompose her face.

“I don't need any help,” she said coldly. She was staring hard at Mrs. Baxter, her eyes never once straying to Joss. “But
you
will.
All
of you will, mark my words.”

“Oh, Nora, for heaven's sake—”

“My mistake,” Joss said so suddenly that once again everyone else in the room turned to stare at him. “It must have just been a shadow or something. I didn't mean to upset everyone.”

“That was no shadow,” Nora murmured, and at last Carolyn spoke up.

“Then who was it, Nora? The captain's wife? But how can you be sure? It
could
have been a shadow—”

“Of course it was a shadow,” Mom broke in impatiently. “What on earth else could it have been? Have you eaten, Nora?” When the woman maintained a sulky silence, she added, “Carolyn, make sure you fix Nora something for lunch, too.”

“I'm perfectly all right,” Nora insisted, but her voice was barely a whisper, and Carolyn noticed how her hands were shaking. Catching Carolyn's stare, Nora clasped her fingers together and stiffened even more.

“Forgive us, Joss,” Mrs. Baxter said with forced brightness. “We're not usually quite this neurotic around here. The truth is, we've all been through a pretty rough time recently, but now things are going to be much better. Right?”

The room grew quiet.

Lifting her eyes, Nora stole a reluctant glance at Joss's face, then turned and went straight to the kitchen.

“Poor Nora.” Mrs. Baxter sighed and shook her head. “I don't think she's in very good health, and I'm afraid she's still so upset over Hazel's death. She was devoted to my aunt, you see.”

“How touching,” Joss murmured.

Carolyn excused herself and followed Nora into the other room, but before she could strike up a conversation, Mrs. Baxter joined them there.

“Nora, are you really all right? I know you have certain … ideas and such about the house, but I wish you wouldn't share them with the guests—at least not before they've had a chance to settle in. Heaven only knows what he's thinking.”

In answer, Nora started banging pots and pans on the stove. Carolyn darted a quick look at her before she spoke.

“Maybe he did see something, Mom. It could happen.”

“What he saw was a shadow—much to his regret, I'm very sure.”

Mrs. Baxter rolled her eyes in exasperation, took a long, deep breath, then let it out again, a sure sign that she was on to more important matters.

“Carolyn, are you thinking what I'm thinking?” She burst into a big smile. “He's the answer to our prayers!” When Carolyn didn't respond, she stopped and studied her daughter's face. “So why are you looking like that?”

“I don't know,” Carolyn said, busying herself at the counter. She really
didn't
know—she felt all mixed up inside. She opened a container of chowder that Andy had brought and shrugged her shoulders. “This guy's a total stranger, Mom.”

“Well, really, Carolyn, this isn't exactly like the neighborhood we just moved from. People here still leave their doors unlocked. They trust each other.”

“Who told you that?”

“Some of the people I talked with this morning in the village. They're all so nice and
wonderful
people! Like that Mr. Bell sending groceries.”

“It's just”—Carolyn groped for words—“strange, don't you think?”

“What is? What do you mean?”

“Showing up the way he did, just when we needed someone to help us.”

“Drifter,” Nora muttered, and they both looked at her.

“What was that, Nora?” Mom asked.

But if Nora heard, she gave no sign. She turned on the tap water so hard that the pipes groaned.

“But that's what makes it so wonderful, Carolyn!” Mrs. Baxter raised her voice above the noise. “It's like we're destined to succeed with this place, don't you see? We needed help—and here's help!”

Carolyn glanced at Nora. The housekeeper stood stiffly at the sink and kept her back to them. She seemed to have forgotten the dishes entirely. Now she picked up a long-handled knife, ran one finger slowly along the blade, and started slicing a loaf of bread.

“Carolyn,” Mrs. Baxter went on, “if you're going to start nitpicking, then this little coincidence should make you feel
good
about being here. Like someone's watching over us. Nora, look, the sink's starting to overflow—”

Carolyn frowned. “You want him to stay?”

“Well, of course I want him to stay! Nora, did you hear me about the sink? We need the help, Carolyn! Don't
you
want him to stay?”

Carolyn looked at her mother's hopeful face.

No
, she wanted to shout,
no I want him to leave, I want him to leave right now, right this very second
—
because suddenly I'm feeling really scared and I don't know why
—

The water shut off. The room grew quiet.

“Yes,” Carolyn mumbled. “Okay, Mom. I want him to stay.”

“Then hurry up with lunch, will you? What is that, anyway?”

“Clam chowder. It's part of the stuff Mr. Bell sent over.”

“Isn't that sweet!” Mrs. Baxter started to leave, then paused in the doorway to look back. “I can't
believe
the friendliness and generosity of these people! I met Mr. Bell when I was out shopping this morning, and he was so
nice
to me—let me open an account right away! Then he introduced me to some of the other people who came in—and they showed me where different stores were—and they told me where to shop for what—”

“Can't you find out something about him?” Carolyn fixed her mother with a pleading look.

“Who?” Mrs. Baxter looked baffled. “Mr. Bell?”

“No, that guy in our living room. Before he stays?”

“Carolyn, do I have to remind you that the guests who'll be staying here will all be people we don't know? And if you're going to be concerned with running a check on each and every one of them, I guarantee we'll
never
have anybody staying! That's not how you run a guest house!”

Carolyn shook her head, trying to make her mother understand, though she didn't even understand herself.

“He was waiting inside when I got back from my walk. He was standing in the parlor. Like he
belonged
here.”

“Well, the poor boy was practically frozen—did you want him to wait outside till he died of pneumonia?”

“Mom, he saw someone on the widow's walk!”

“
Thought
he saw someone. Just like you
thought
you fell down the attic stairs last night! For heaven's sake, Carolyn, anyone can be fooled by a shadow. Quit being so suspicious. I thought you wanted this to work.”

“I … I do …”

Their eyes locked. Mrs. Baxter shook her head impatiently, her voice tight.

“Carolyn, we have
no
income. There was
no
life insurance. Your father, bless his heart, totally supported my being a homemaker, so I don't know how to do
anything
else. This opportunity came along, and I took it. I'm doing the best I can.”

A flush went over Carolyn's cheeks. She looked away and nodded slowly.

“I'm sorry, Mom. You're right. Things are different now.”

“Honey,” Mrs. Baxter said, moving to Carolyn's side, tilting her daughter's face up, “we desperately need help around here—Joss needs a place to sleep. Let's just accept the little gifts that come our way and not question them, okay?”

Carolyn managed a weak smile. “Okay, Mom.”

She watched her mother leave the room, and then she glanced over at Nora. During the whole conversation Nora had been slicing that same loaf of bread—sawing the knife slowly back and forth against the cutting board.

“Are you all right, Nora?” Carolyn asked, but the woman's shoulders remained just as stiff, just as straight.

The knife made a dull thudding sound as Nora laid it on the counter.

“Nora?” Carolyn tried again. “Joss was telling the truth, wasn't he? There really
was
someone up there on the walk, and he really did see her.”

Nora didn't turn. Her right hand made a quick swipe at her apron, then closed around the knife again.

The blade sawed once.

“I've cut myself,” Nora said.

Carolyn rushed to her side, seeing the dark red flow over Nora's wrist. She turned on the faucet and forced Nora's hand beneath the water, then looked anxiously into the woman's face.

It was a perfect mask. No pain … no surprise … nothing.

“Clumsy of me,” Nora mumbled.

“Nora—”

“It's only a scratch. I'll tend to it in the bathroom.”

Before Carolyn could answer, Nora turned away and disappeared down the hall. Carolyn heard the bathroom door close, and she leaned against the counter, putting her head in her hands.

“Carolyn!” Mrs. Baxter called.

“Yes, it's almost ready!”

She could hear them talking as she heated the soup, as she toasted the bread, as she ladled the chowder into bowls and arranged places at the kitchen table. Mom's voice always got louder when she was happy, and she was certainly happy now.

“It seemed like such a perfect opportunity when I got this place,” Mrs. Baxter was saying as she and Joss strolled into the kitchen. “I've always wanted to open a guest house—and it was a good time for making changes.”