Free The Ebbing Tide by Elisabeth Ogilvie Page A

breaths of the soft air, she concentrated on watching Jamie stamp ahead of her, and on Dick ranging through the marsh whose bronze grasses reflected the glints in his coat and in his eyes. She watched the flight of crows from the trees behind the schoolhouse, jet black against the little white belfry, which in turn shone against the sky. But again and again she saw the big black tube, made fast to the mooring, rising and falling gently on the calm water. There was something deadly in the very contrast; like a battle in a field of ripe wheat ready for the harvest, under autumn sunshine. The mine, anchored in the sheltered little harbor, had suddenly brought the complete ugliness of the war to Bennett’s Island.
    She’d planned to sit on the sunny granite doorstep of the homestead for a little while, but as soon as she had reached the weathered and silvery gateposts, she knew she must go back to the harbor. Perhaps it would not look so bad this time. She would not know until she had looked again.

7
    T HE C OAST G UARD BOAT came out from Limerock in the late afternoon, and by that time everyone who could make it was on the shore. Even Nora Fennell came down, bright-eyed with excitement. “Gram’s taking a nap . . . Gosh, seems as if something’s happening around here, doesn’t it?”
    She stood beside Joanna on the wharf and watched the dinghy from the Coast Guard boat circle around the mooring. “Why don’t they go close to it?” Her excitement began to fade. “Golly, you don’t think it’s dangerous after all, do you?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Joanna. She had only come down because Jamie had seen the boat from the kitchen window and had gone into a delirium of ecstasy about it. The men stood in a little knot at one side, watching it without speaking. Even Sigurd’s first exhilaration over his find had died out. Thea stood between him and Franny, hanging onto their arms. Her voice was more high-pitched than usual, perhaps because no one was answering her questions.
    Leonie came along the wharf and joined Joanna and Nora. “Housekeeper” was a courtesy title only, and in the old days Leonie wouldn’t have presumed to speak so freely to two decently married women, nor would they have greeted her so calmly. But it was somehow impossible to regard Leonie as a light woman. She was slight and trim and mousey, she walked on sensible shoes and looked at her world through horn-rimmed glasses that were always shining.
    â€œThat one,” she said acidly, looking at Thea’s back. “She turns my stomach . . . So does Sigurd, today.”
    â€œWhy?” Nora asked obligingly.
    â€œTowin’ that thing in . . . I suppose if he found Tenpound adrift he’d come bringin’ it home. Some people can’t leave anything lay. We’re like to be blasted out of our beds to Kingdom Come.”
    Nobody answered. The truth of her statement was too evident, and Joanna tightened her grip on Jamie’s fist when it wriggled protestingly. “No, you can’t go to Owen,” she told him.
    â€œWell, I’m not intendin’ to stand here and watch my doom comin’ at me,” said Leonie, and started out for home, putting her feet down with no nonsense on the planks.
    â€œI keep forgetting she’s living in sin,” said Nora in mild astonishment. “Thea acts more like a scarlet woman than Leonie. They say Leonie plays poker with the men, and she can drink too.” She giggled softly. “I wonder what she’s like when she’s drunk.”
    â€œShe teams Sigurd around like mad,” said Joanna. “I’m not keen on watching my doom approach, either. Come on, Jamie.”
    â€œI guess I’ll wait for Matthew. Gram’s good for another hour, and I’m going to have some fun while I can . . . if you can call it fun.” She gave Joanna a wry grin, and went toward the men.
    Joanna left