victims. Perhaps seeing a familiar face would jolt her awareness, be that stray thread that would unravel memories that had taken a lifetime to knit.
“It’ll be all right,” Derek said softly once Hannah had left with the tray. He was looking at her intently, almost as if trying to work something out. Perhaps he was wondering why she had been the one to survive, or how long she meant to stay.
“Derek,” Hannah called from downstairs.
Derek looked like he was about to say something but seemed to change his mind and left without another word.
Chapter 13
The gown Hannah had brought was several inches short and too large in the bosom, even with the laces pulled tight, but it was dry and sufficiently somber. Hannah had given her a starched cap to cover her freshly washed hair and a woolen shawl to ward off the chill of the October morning. The shoes and hose were her own, since they’d had sufficient time to dry.
October is such a beautiful month, Alice thought as Derek handed her into the trap. The trees were crimson and gold against the backdrop of aquamarine sky, the air fresh and crisp, the field they passed dotted with dozens of fat-bellied pumpkins. The bell tolled again in the distance, and Alice dragged her mind back to the task at hand. She didn’t care to admit it to Derek, but she was frightened. She must have seen corpses before, most people had, but these were victims of drowning. She could so easily have been among them. Had Ben and Josh not found her in time, she might have died there on that beach, just slipped away without ever regaining consciousness. Gooseflesh broke out on her arms, fingers of fear stroking her spine.
“Are you all right?” Derek asked, glancing sideways at her. “You’ve gone pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “I know you think seeing their faces will help you remember, but if it doesn’t, the only thing you’ll be left with is a memory of seventeen bloated corpses.” Alice winced, and he looked instantly contrite. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”
“It’s all right,” Alice assured him. “You’ve simply spoken the truth. Even if I do recognize someone, I’ll still be left with a memory I’d sooner forget. There’s no escaping it.”
“I will be right there by your side. You can lean on me,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile as the town of Milford came into view.
Town was too grand a name for what lay ahead. There were about two dozen clapboard buildings, some lining a wide street, others set further back. The church, with its tall spire, was easily recognizable, as was the tavern that bore a green and gold sign proclaiming it to be the Blackwell Arms. There was an official-looking building at the end of the street that might have been the town hall. The rest were small shops and private residences. Most had yards enclosed by picket fences, complete with outbuildings and neat vegetable patches.
The people all seemed to be going about their business, women hanging out laundry, two men unloading casks from a wagon parked in front of the tavern, and children playing a game of ball and hoop on a patch of grass near the town hall. Several people were already heading toward the church, and they nodded and tipped their hats to her, as if she were some visiting dignitary rather than a woman spit out by the sea before it had a chance to claim her soul. She nodded back but didn’t make eye contact with anyone, except for an auburn-haired young woman who stared at her openly, her face tight with displeasure.
Alice turned to Derek in her confusion but, when she saw the look of dismay he bestowed on the woman, thought she understood. This woman had a claim on Derek Wilder. He should have been escorting her, not some stranger who was now living in his home. Alice tried to smile, to let the woman know that Derek was simply being gentlemanly, but the woman bristled like a cat, probably mistaking Alice’s smile of apology for one of smugness.
“Don’t worry about her,” Derek said softly, a note of pride in his voice. He clearly liked that the auburn-haired beauty was jealous. Her passionate reaction was firewood for the pyre of his ego.
“I didn’t mean to—” Alice began, but couldn’t finish the sentence. She had nothing to apologize for. She was going to church to see