“He was a war hero. Earned a bronze star for service off the coast of Italy. That’s where he lost his eye. And later he received several civilian awards for saving lives during storms. Estimates are he saved over fifty people.”

“Do you think Henry’s grandmother was really on the Liberty T. Mitchell?”

“In this part of the world, separating fact from a good yarn can be hard.”

“Can you text me Henry’s picture?”

“Sure.” She handed the phone to Ivy, who typed in her number and hit send.

Molly’s gaze dropped to the picture of young Ruth. “And you know this is your grandmother.”

“Yes.”

“She was quite the spitfire. Lived an interesting life. Did you know she joined Carlotta on the Maisy Adams a few years after this picture was taken? She worked as a cook on the ship and later as a stage assistant. She traveled with the ship for several years.”

“Pete mentioned Ruth moved away for a time, but he didn’t know where she went. He said she never talked about her years away, which apparently was where she met my grandfather.”

“Her husband and father died about the same time, so she returned to the Outer Banks to help Edna run the Seaside Resort. Carol, your mother, was barely a baby.”

“Did you ask Ruth about her travels?” Ivy asked.

“I did. She laughed, said ancient history didn’t matter to her.”

Ivy studied Carlotta’s features and Ruth’s. There was a resemblance in the eyes. “They look related.”

“You know Ruth was adopted, right?”

Ivy shook her head. “I didn’t.”

Molly shrugged. “Henry let it slip. He was older, had had a few drinks after one of his Halloween performances that I’d attended. We got to talking about the Seaside Resort’s history, and he mentioned Ruth’s adoption. He realized his mistake and asked me to not tell.”

“More ancient history Ruth didn’t think mattered?”

Molly was silent for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“What happened to Carlotta?” Ivy asked.

“After she retired from the showboat in 1966, she returned to western North Carolina and settled in the Asheville area. She passed when she was in her midsixties. There was a short illness mentioned in her obituary, but details were never given.”

Ivy chose to hold on to the image of the young, vibrant woman forever.

Molly skimmed her fingers over the old hotel register. “This is from the Seaside Resort?”

“Yes. It’s the only one I could find. It covers the 1930s.”

“Interesting choice of years.” Molly carefully turned the yellowed pages. “Ruth was a pack rat.”

“Don’t I know it. I’ve spent the last week cleaning, donating, and tossing.”

“The Seaside Resort was Ruth’s life. It’s hard to let go, especially as we get older. Our possessions anchor us to our best memories.”