“No. This one is old, real old.”

“Where are the people that were on the ship?” Talley asked.

“I figure they’re long dead, even if they did survive the storm.”

“But the boat made it to shore. So the passengers should have, too, right?”

Ruth started down the dune, marveling over the size of the wreck. “Not always. A lot drowned before they made it to dry land. There are millions of wrecks out there. Daddy says sailors hate to sail these waters because the sandbars are shallow and always shifting. Just when you think you’re in the clear of the North Carolina shore . . . BAM!”

Talley started.

Ruth grinned. “The sandbars under the water have moved, and your ship gets stuck. If it’s during a storm, then the waves can bust up your ship pretty quick.” Her audience was paying close attention, and she couldn’t resist adding a little spice to the story. “They call all these waters the Graveyard of the Atlantic ’cause there are so many shipwrecks and dead sailors.”

Talley stared out to the waters, her eyes widening. “Do bodies wash up on shore?”

“I’ve heard they have,” Ruth said.

“What happens to them?”

“The locals bury them. But that’s usually after they’ve stripped them of their valuables and cleaned out what they could find at the wreck. The timbers get used for building, and the goods are sold at auction.”

“Oh my.” Talley approached the wreck but didn’t touch it.

Ruth tugged off her shoes, moved past Talley, climbed up on the exposed beam, and walked toe to toe along it until she reached the front deck. She tested the sturdiness of the damp deck and then decided it was fit to cross. She raised her hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun and staring out at the ocean as a long-dead sailor might.

“Be careful of splinters,” Talley said.

“You sound like Mama.”

“Well, I’ve gotten my share in the barn. They’re no fun.”

Ruth’s bare feet skimmed across wood smoothed down by decades if not centuries of water currents. Still, she was mindful where she stepped.

Talley walked around the exposed vessel, looking around curiously but not touching anything. “What kind of ship do you think it was?”

“I don’t know. But Daddy will. Or Henry. Between the two, they know all the ships that were ever made.”

“Who’s Henry?”

“He was in the navy like Daddy, but they fought in different wars. They’re cousins, but Henry’s parents died young, and he was raised by Daddy’s sister. He works for the lifesaving station during the winter months and at the hotel in the summer. He also fishes when he can. He never stays in one place long.”

“The devil likes idle hands,” Talley said.