“Now, boys,” Mr. Arndt said. “We’ve been over this. Miss Dale here is goin’ to be our artist and that’s all there is to it. We have to make the best of it. Let’s help her out here, right?”

They all turned to look at Anna, and she knew her cheeks were scarlet. They’d started burning when the mayor mentioned his telephone call to the Section of Fine Arts. Thank goodness he hadn’t been able to get through! She needed an okay from the Section on her as yet nonexistent sketch. It horrified her to think the job could still be snatched away from her.

“I’m only here till Saturday,” she said again, setting down her spoon and straightening her spine. “I’d like to actually see the things that are important to you. The cotton mill.” She looked at Mr. Fiering. “The peanut factory. Et cetera. And I’m sure that the waterfront looks very different during fishing season, so if there are photographs of it I might look at, that would be helpful.”

“I can tour you through the mill,” Mr. Fiering said.

“Thank you.” She nodded.

“You’re right about the waterfront, little lady,” Mayor Sykes piped in. “Every day during the season, we haul in thousands of herring and ship them far and wide.”

“It’s an industrious little town, isn’t it,” she said, hoping to ingratiate herself to them. She had to admit she was impressed. She’d had no idea this dot on the map was such a beehive of activity.

“So, do you paint the mural right on the post office wall?” Mayor Sykes asked.

“No, I’ll paint it in New Jersey and then send it down here to be installed—attached to the wall—in the post office. I’ll have to find some studio space near my home where I can work on it, and—”

“That don’t make no sense.” Billy Calhoun scowled. “You ought to be here to paint it.”

“I believe he’s right,” said the mayor. “You’re just getting a taste of Edenton these few days you’re here. You go back up north and you’ll lose the whole feel of the place.”

“Oh, I can’t stay here,” she said. “I can’t afford a hotel for as long as this will take.”

“How long will it take?” Mr. Fiering asked.

She ticked the steps off on her fingers. “Well, first I have to decide what to paint,” she said. “Then I need to make a color sketch of it and submit that to the Section—the government people who make these decisions. Once they accept it, then I need to make a cartoon from the sketch and—”

“A what?” The mayor’s eyes flew open and Anna smiled. The men probably thought she was planning to make a comical mural for the post office and she could see them getting nervous.