“How do you like the house?” Ruth asked.

“It’s nice. More space than I’m used to.”

“I guess it must be huge compared to a boat,” Talley said.

“A showboat. And you might be surprised. I have one of the larger rooms, but it’s nowhere near this size. It’s nice to have the space to spread out.”

“Do you like living on the boat?” Ruth asked.

“I enjoy seeing all the different towns, and if I want to sing, I must find the audiences.”

“You have a real pretty voice,” Talley said.

“Thank you. Do either of you sing?”

Talley shook her head as Ruth giggled. “I’m the worst. Terrible. But I like to draw.”

“What do you draw?”

“Anything. I don’t have much time for it in the summer, but when the weather turns cold and the guests leave, I have plenty of time. Mama sews together the unused paper place mats, makes a book, and I draw on the blank sides. On my birthday my parents gave me colored pencils.”

“When is your birthday?”

“January second, 1938.”

“You’re twelve.”

“Yes, that’s right. Talley is fourteen. How old are you?”

Carlotta grinned. “Old beyond my years.”

“What’s that mean?”

A slight shrug lifted Carlotta’s shoulders. “It means I’m not going to answer that question. A lady doesn’t tell her real age.”

“Mama is forty-eight. She told me,” Ruth said.

“My mother is forty-six,” Talley offered.

“Are you two always this bold?” Carlotta asked.

“Yes,” Ruth said.

“Mama says I speak just about every thought that hits my brain,” Talley said.

“Sounds like your mothers know you both very well.”

“I guess,” Ruth said.

“Ladies, I have to get ready for my show tonight, which means I have to rest. But feel free to come back. And Ruth, show me some of your sketches. I’m very curious.”

“Really?” Ruth asked.

“Of course.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

IVY

Wednesday, January 19, 2022, 11:00 a.m.

“Did you see the shipwreck?” Ivy asked Dani.

“What shipwreck?”

“Have a look outside. It appeared last night.”

Dani moved onto the back porch, the cool breeze feathering through the screens and drawing her outside. She crossed her arms and huddled deeper into her jacket as she stared at the vessel’s exposed ribs. “You’ve heard the story about this one, haven’t you?”

Ivy moved onto the porch. “No. How do you know about this one?”

“My dad told me about it. The first time the wreck appeared, he was about five or six. He remembers playing on it. Though, based on his description, more of the ship was exposed in those days.”

“What year was that?”

“1950. Dad kind of became obsessed with the wreck and in his teens began reading all he could about it. He became an expert on the shipwrecks along this stretch of beach and was able to identify this wreck.”

“Really. What’s its story?”

“It was called the Liberty T. Mitchell and was a wooden sloop that sailed these waters in 1870. It was traveling from South Carolina to New York and got caught in a storm. The winds and high waves swamped the ship and capsized it.”