The house on the hill. The green Chevrolet he’d seen the day before. Jack connected the dots in his head. “You’re Clara Sutton’s niece, aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged.” She reached up and brushed away a strand of hair that had blown onto her face. “Do you know her well?”
“Everyone around here knows Clara. I knew your uncle too before he passed.” Jack dropped his eyes in reverence before speaking again. “Clara’s been going on for weeks about you. I haven’t seen her this excited in a long time.”
“It sounds as if you know her better than I do.” Ellie leaned against the railing, one leg over the other.
“Are y’all not close?”
“We were. She and Uncle Bill used to visit us every Christmas. But this is the first time I’ve seen her since the funeral.”
“Then, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”
Ellie looked away before answering. “Mother says I’ve been in the North too long and thinks this will be a great opportunity for me to get back to my Southern roots.” She sighed. “But I think it’s just an excuse to get me out of the house.”
“Southern roots?” Jack joined her at the rail, and they stared out at the water together. “Does that mean you were born around here?”
She shook her head. “Mother’s originally from a little place called Sweetwater, but my sister and I were born and raised in Ohio. That’s where my father is from.”
“So what are your plans this summer—besides not finding arrowheads?” He teased her with a smile.
“Very funny.” She nudged him playfully with her elbow in response. “I only arrived yesterday, so I guess I haven’t figured that out yet. What is there to do around here besides go out on the water?”
He tried to think of something impressive to say but drew a blank. “Not much, I’m afraid, unless you go to Knoxville. There’s plenty to do there.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Well, what do you do besides ferry people to the island?”
“That’s about it. I work six days a week from sunup to sundown. When I’m not working, I’m fishing; when I’m not fishing, I help Mama around the house and in the garden. Around here, work never ends.”
“What about fun? They say all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” She winked at him.
“You mean all that work doesn’t sound like fun to you?” He waited until his sarcastic smile faded before going on. “But seriously, I have most of my fun on the water—fishing, swimming, and scouring the islands.”
Ellie stared off toward the horizon. “What about that place you were telling me about yesterday, the one with all the arrowheads? Do you think you could take me sometime?”
That threw him for a loop. “It’d be my pleasure. Since you’re here for the summer, just pick a day and we’ll go.”
She focused her gaze on him. “How about now?”
Her question put him on his heels.
“Unless you have plans,” she added.
His head wagged back and forth. “No. No plans. Just let me grab a couple of things.” He went to the door and fumbled nervously with the lock. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Ellie watching him with amusement as he clumsily pushed his way inside.
* * *
They made it as far as the sand bar before a storm drove them from the water.
Jack unlocked the door to the shack, and they went inside. “Sorry.” He offered her a chair at the table. “Sometimes Mother Nature cooperates, and sometimes she doesn’t.”
As if on cue, thunder rumbled in the slate sky above them. Jack removed his hat and checked the icebox.
“I’ve got sweet tea if you’re thirsty,” he said, finding the pitcher full.
“Yes, thank you.” Ellie sat on a milk crate and let down her brown hair. “Is this where you and George hang out when you’re not on the water?”
“Mostly.” Jack filled two glasses with tea and handed one to Ellie. “I built this place myself a couple of summers back. It’s nothing fancy, but it shields us from the elements.” He sat quietly, watching her while she sipped her tea. “This place must seem foreign to you,” he said after a minute.
