The men’s arrival meant there’d be more bourbon sales at the bar, more late-night poker games by the pool, and the children wouldn’t get as rowdy in the dining hall. The groups of mothers would disband, and the women would join their families at their own tables during the day.

“Do we have to do anything different?” Talley asked.

“They’ll use up more towels, and there’ll be more cups and bottles to pick up by the pool,” Daddy said. “Henry will be here today, so he’ll take care of the bar, and he’ll be manning the grill at lunch and this evening. Burgers and dogs at lunch and barbecue for dinner.”

Talley shrugged and ate the last of her bacon. “Sounds like my brothers.”

“Not too different,” Daddy said. “Now you girls eat up. I’m headed to the main building to check in with Edna and get this day started.”

When he left, Ruth wedged a fork under a sweet bun and dropped it on Talley’s plate. “These buns are the best thing about storms. Daddy doesn’t sleep well during bad weather.”

“He was worried?” she asked.

Ruth tore off a piece of soft bread. “As much as he ever does.”

“What if there’s another storm?”

There would be. There always was. But there was something constant and steady about Daddy that softened most of her fears. “Eat up. One bite, and you’ll be wishing for another storm.”

Talley took a bite, and her eyes brightened with surprise. “Hmmm.”

“The best ever. He said the cook on one of his ships baked those buns to soothe sailors who’d weathered their first storm.”

“I guess I’ve weathered mine,” Talley said.

“Yes, you have.” She took a big bite of sweet bun and gulped down her milk. “Hurry up. I want to see what the surprise is that Daddy’s talking about.”

“Is it more shells?”

“Maybe. Or it could be a dead sea turtle, or a monster jellyfish.”

“What’s a jellyfish?” Talley asked.

Ruth grinned. “Just wait and see.”

Ten minutes later Ruth and Talley were climbing the dunes and cutting through the sea oats. At the top of the sandbank, they had a clear view of the calm, smooth ocean, which belied the beach littered with seaweed, shells, and driftwood.

“What’s that?” Talley asked.

Ruth followed her outstretched arm toward what looked like the ribs of an old ship. The boat ran parallel to the ocean, its bow facing north but its stern partly sunken in the sand. The large timbers, some twelve by twelve in diameter, had darkened to an inky black.

“It’s a shipwreck!” Ruth said. “I heard about them, but I haven’t seen one before.”

As predictable as the days here could be, her daddy always warned that the ocean would surprise you when you least expected it.

“Did it sink in last night’s storm?” Talley asked.