“My apologies. I meant to say that it’s likely some beleaguered ghost, trapped on the shores by her love for a sailor who dropped her there in 1624 and promised to come back for her but never did.”

“Better.” Though he cocked his head to the side. “Who’s that, do you think?”

“My fictitious sailor and his abandoned love? How am I to know? I just made them up.”

“No, idiot.” Enyon slapped his arm and then pointed at something just coming into view around the point of land, aimed at Samson. A boat, obviously, moving at a good clip.

A familiar boat, as most of them were. It took him only a moment to place it. “Casek.” He spat the name.

“Ah. He must have spotted whatever it is and decided to see to it.”

“At this time of day?”

Enyon lifted a brow. “Since when does Casek Wearne care if it’s the wisest time to do something?”

Because he had a point, Oliver relented. And started walking again. “Did you investigate the caves later? See if there was any sign of people having been there that night?”

“There are always people in the caves. What would I have hoped to see? Besides.” He kicked at a shell, eyes on the ground ahead of them. “I haven’t had the heart to go in there. Not after I helped them haul Johnnie out.”

He’d forgotten that Enyon, living so near, was the one Johnnie’s friends had fetched to help them. He clasped Enyon’s shoulder. It should have been someone else—anyone other than softhearted Enyon—to do such a task. “I can’t blame you for that. And maybe that explains it. Maybe it was his mam down there, crying. Or young Harriet—she was sweet on him.”

One of the clouds cleared from Enyon’s face, at least. He nodded. “You could be right. Or even his friends, paying their respects at the place where he fell. The wind could have just been distorting their voices.”

“I daresay. That answers that question, anyway.”

“And Casek will clean up the beach on Samson. That only leaves finding Beth. And how I’m to get a glimpse of Mabena all prim and a look at this lady she’s serving.”

“The islands aren’t that big. I’m sure you’ll see them.” As they’d see Beth, if she were here. When she wanted them to.

They walked onward, until Oliver’s house came into view. “Come up?”

“Thanks—not today. Still have a few things to do at home. Luncheon after church tomorrow though? Unless you’ve already been spoken for.”

“Only by Mamm-wynn. You’re certainly welcome to join us.”

As he did at least one Sunday a month. “Sounds good. Talk to you tomorrow, Ollie.”

“Good night.” He lifted a hand in farewell as he climbed the path up his hill and Enyon turned back the way they’d come.