As Mama moved beside Ruth, Carlotta stepped forward, thanking Mama. “Let’s all give Edna, Jake, Ruth, and Talley a hand. Without them, we would not be under the clear sky tonight, enjoying this lovely fire.”

The guests clapped, and she waited until they grew very quiet. She set her sandals down and began to tap her foot. Her fingers snapped again to a tune only she heard. Once everyone’s attention was focused on her, she began, “Blue moon . . .”

Her voice caught on the wind and drifted above the waves and the fire’s hiss. “Blue moon . . .”

Henry stood by the fire, his hands shoved in his pockets, his gaze transfixed by Carlotta’s voice like she was a siren come to life. He shifted from foot to foot and drew in a breath.

She finished the song on a high note and then launched into several livelier tunes. When she ended her set, the audience, now numbering over forty, clapped.

As she held up her hands, Carlotta’s eyes danced with mischief as she waited for the crowd to settle down. “Are you ready for a real treat?”

“Yes” murmured over the crowd.

“I didn’t hear you,” Carlotta said as she cupped her ear. “Was that a yes?”

Several folks laughed and shouted louder, “Yes!”

“I’m sorry?” she said, teasing. “Are you ready for a treat?”

This time the crowd yelled a resounding “Yes!”

“Well, that’s more like it. Because I’m going to introduce you to a man I think many of you already know, Mr. Henry Anderson. I’ve heard he’s spun some tales before this crowd in years past, but this year, he has a story that’s far more intriguing, perhaps even a little darker and scarier.”

A ripple of laughter rumbled over the crowd.

“Mr. Anderson, would you join me up here?” Carlotta asked.

Henry pulled his hands from his pockets, moving toward her with long strides. He stood by her side, towering over her by at least five inches.

She slipped her arm around his waist, as if they were old friends. “He’s going to tell you about this very shipwreck and the tale of the lost souls that were aboard.”

Henry looked down at her, seeming a little surprised, either by her touch or her challenge to top her performance. If anyone knew anything about Henry Anderson, it was that he never backed down from a challenge.

Carlotta stepped aside, then picked up her shoes and moved toward the fire that blazed behind her, creating an otherworldly glow.

“This ship was called the Liberty T. Mitchell.” Henry looked back at the ship. “She was a proud, sleek clipper who set sail eighty years ago.”