He chuckled as he hung his coat on a hook. “You have me there.”
“I was just about to play solitaire,” she mentioned, gesturing toward the table. “But now that you’re here ...”
He strolled into the kitchen. “Poker? Crazy Eights? Gin rummy?”
Joanna laughed. “I was going to say we could talk. I’d love to pick your brain about Sable Island.”
“Go for it,” he replied, sounding invigorated. “I love talking about it. And not to toot my own horn, but I know everything.”
She laughed again. “Then I’ve come to the right place.”
The kettle boiled, and Joanna filled a Royal Albert teapot. “This is a beauty. Definitely vintage. I recognize the pattern. It’s called Old Country Roses. I wonder how long it’s been here.”
“Who knows,” he replied. “So much of what’s here has been kept and reused for decades, maybe even a century.”
She leaned on the counter again, waiting for the tea to steep. “I’ve actually done a lot of research on Sable, and I know about the Humane Establishment.”
Garrett inclined his head. “Really? Most people who come here just want to take pictures of the horses.”
She didn’t want to betray her grandfather’s confidence, but she had so many questions about the island and the woman he’d loved all those years ago.
“I shouldn’t tell you this,” she said, “and if I do, I’m going to need your blood oath. You have to promise you’ll keep it private, between us.”
“Sounds intriguing. But what exactly do you mean byblood oath?” He slanted a look at her.
Playfully, she waved off his concerns. “It won’t hurt, I promise. But if you know ‘everything’ about Sable Island, you probably already know who my grandfather is.”
Garrett sat forward. “He has a history here?”
“Yes. He was shipwrecked in 1946.”
Garrett’s eyebrows lifted. “TheBelvedere? The one where the captain refused to abandon his ship?”
Joanna slapped her hand against her cheek. “Oh, my word. You do know of it.”
“Of course I do. It was the last wreck before the end of the lifesaving station.”
His knowledge on the subject sent Joanna’s heart leaping, which made her forget about the tea steeping on the counter. Quickly, she moved to sit on the edge of the sofa, closer to Garrett. “That was Grandad. He was the captain.”
Garrett sat back in astonishment. “No kidding. Did he tell you much about it?”
“Yes, but only recently,” she replied, “which is what made me want to come here and see this place for myself.”
Garrett scratched behind his ear. “I haven’t told many people about this, but I’ve been working on a book about Sable Island storms over the centuries. I’d love to interview him, if he’d be willing.”
Joanna considered it. “He’s a bit shy about sharing. He didn’t want anyone on the tour to know who he was because it’s not easy for him to talk about it. But you could certainly ask him.”
Garrett regarded her intently for a moment. “This morning, you asked Bill about the rose garden and the old main station, and the house buried in sand. Do those places mean something to your grandfather?”
“Yes, but sadly, we couldn’t see any of that today.”
“But now you’re here fortwodays,” Garrett reminded her, “thanks to the weather.” He paused, thinking. “I could talk to Denise and Darren about delaying the departure tomorrow and giving me some time in the morning to drive you and your grandfather wherever you want to go.”
Joanna let out a breath. “Oh, my gosh. That would be amazing. He’s been trying to act nonchalant about it, but I know he was disappointed not to see more of the island.” Suddenly, she remembered her tea steeping in the pot, and stood up. She went to the kitchen, poured herself a cup, and added a splash of milk.
When she returned to the sofa, Garrett sat forward, elbows on knees. “Can I ask the significance of the rose garden?”
Joanna sipped her tea. “Hmm. I don’t feel right sharing his story. Maybe you could ask him tomorrow.”
