Free Scarlet Butterfly by Sandra Chastain Page A

the road. “Yes, I can see. It’s a good thing that I took insurance on the rental.”
    “Did you pay for it with a credit card?”
    “Yes, it’s paid in advance.”
    “Then you didn’t need insurance. That’s covered by your card.”
    “Oh, well, I don’t suppose it matters.”
I’m
not paying for it, she could have said. All the cards were in her father’s name. “At least your truck isn’t hurt.”
    “No, thank goodness for big tires.”
    They reached the battered black truck farther up the road, and Rogan opened the door. She could see where the waterline fell, just under the edge of the fender. The engine cranked easily, and with great skill Rogan backed up the vehicle until he came to a place where he could turn around and head toward town.
    “I wish we could travel on the river,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”
    “So do I. But I like the marsh, too, and the moss. It’s so lush and green, so different from Houston where I grew up. Is St. Marys very old?”
    “Dating back to Oglethorpe and the first settlers, somewhere around 1733.”
    “Did a Rogan come along with Oglethorpe?”
    “Probably not. They claim to have migrated to Georgia from Charleston, but my guess is that they were residing in some English prison when they accepted the invitation to come here.”
    Maybe it was Sean’s imagination, but Carolina’s face seemed to have more color in it this morning. Ormaybe it was just the light of interest in her eyes. If he could get her out of that prim white blouse, he reflected, and into some bright clothes, she’d look … beautiful and alive.
    That thought sent a jab of sensation down his leg from the point where they touched, and he inadvertently gave the truck a spurt of gas before he turned his mind to the question she was asking.
    “What on earth did the early settlers do here? I can’t see them growing cotton on this land, and I thought cotton was king.”
    “They grew cotton farther inland. Along the river it was rice. And timber. There were plenty of vessels sailing upriver from the town of St. Marys then. But St. Marys is the only one of the river towns to survive.”
    Sean drove slowly as they came into town, following the main street until it dead-ended into the docks by the river.
    There were shrimp boats and pleasure craft anchored at the docks. She could see warehouses and, farther down, a small ferryboat.
    “That’s the
Cumberland Queen
,” Sean said. “It takes visitors over to Cumberland Island. Shall we shop first, or go to Ida’s for breakfast?”
    “Shop,” she said, “if you’re not too hungry. Then maybe an early lunch. Oh! Oh, dear!”
    “What’s wrong?”
    When they’d started out, Carolina hadn’t considered precisely what buying new clothes would mean. Now it occurred to her that not only had her suitcase washed away, but so had her purse, with her credit cards and her money.
    “I’m afraid that I have a small problem, Rogan: Ihave no money. Remember, my purse was in the car.” What she had chosen to ignore was that her medication was also in the purse. Having the prescription refilled would mean contacting her doctor, and that would give her location away. Going without medication for a few days would probably do her no great damage, for the thyroid replacement lasted for as long as thirty days. Still, she’d have to make arrangements to get more medication soon or run a real risk of unpleasant side effects.
    But not yet. She’d take a chance. Staying with Rogan for a few days was worth it.
    Rogan drummed his fingers against the center of the steering wheel. “Tell you what: I’ll be glad to make you a loan. Where would you like to go to shop?”
    “Well, Ida told me there was a warehouse that has been converted into small shops and boutiques. Have you been there?”
    “Nope. The hardware store and the grocery store are the extent of my shopping excursions here. But I think I know the building.”
    It soon became apparent that while Rogan