She glanced at the clock. It was nearly two. It wouldn’t be long before JT was home, and there was no telling about Papa. She pulled out a drawer in the pantry and placed six potatoes in her apron. Thinking about Scott and Sally, she added two more. The men would also be hungrier than usual. No one got to eat much during stormy seas.

After depositing the potatoes on the table, Gloriana went for her paring knife and a bowl. She had already decided to make fish stew. It would be hearty and filling, and she had made fresh bread earlier that morning. She’d figure out something for Papa’s sweet tooth as she worked on the stew.

A knock on the door startled her. She wiped off her hands and undid her apron strings. Her mother had taught her never to answer the door wearing an apron.

Gloriana pulled open the door with a smile. “Yes?”

It was Orrin Johnson, one of her father’s dearest friends. He looked stern, almost upset. “Gloriana.” He tipped his cap. “Could I come in for a minute?”

She nodded. “Of course.” She stepped back. “Papa isn’t back just yet.”

He nodded and took off his cap. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

It dawned on her the reason for the look on his face. His discomfort. She reached for a chair to steady herself. “What happened?”

“Sit down, and I’ll tell you all I know.”

She felt her knees weaken and did as he asked. If Captain Johnson himself had come, the news couldn’t be good.

“Is Papa . . . is he . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to ask the only question that mattered.

“I’m sorry, Gloriana.”

“You’re sorry. Is he . . .”

“He went down with the ship.” The words were matter-of-fact and to the point.

She heard her own sharp intake of breath but felt as if it lacked all oxygen. “No!”

“I’m sorry, Gloriana. I did what I could. The storm came on so quickly that we didn’t have time to get to land or the safety of a cove. We had headed out to deliver fish to the North Shore, and the storm was too much. We fought for hours, but everything went wrong. I was barely keeping my own ship afloat when I saw your father’s break in two and go down. I saw him right to the point that the water swallowed him and the others. Against my better judgment, I tried to search for survivors, but there were none. The waves were twenty to thirty feet high. No one could have survived. The Ana Eileen is on the bottom of the lake with her crew.”

Gloriana stared at him, not knowing what to say. She had always known the possibility of something like this. Her mother had talked to her about it from the time she was a child. She’d attended dozens of services for those lost on the water. It was the way of life in a lake town like Duluth.