Free The Drifter by Richie Tankersley Cusick

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.
    â€œCarolyn,” 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?”
    â€œWell, 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.
    â€œYes,” Carolyn mumbled. “Okay, Mom. I want him to stay.”
    â€œThen hurry up with lunch, will you? What is that, anyway?”
    â€œClam chowder. It’s part of the stuff Mr. Bell sent over.”
    â€œIsn’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—”
    â€œCan’t you find out something about him?” Carolyn fixed her mother with a pleading look.
    â€œWho?” Mrs. Baxter looked baffled. “Mr. Bell?”
    â€œNo, that guy in our living room. Before he stays?”
    â€œCarolyn, 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.
    â€œHe was waiting inside when I got back from my walk. He was standing in the parlor. Like he belonged here.”
    â€œWell, the poor boy was practically frozen—did you want him to wait outside till he died of pneumonia?”
    â€œMom, he saw someone on the widow’s walk!”
    â€œ 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.”
    â€œI … I do …”
    Their eyes locked. Mrs. Baxter shook her head impatiently, her voice tight.
    â€œCarolyn, 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.
    â€œI’m sorry, Mom. You’re right. Things are different now.”
    â€œHoney,” 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