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Authors: Janice Carter
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real?”
Sam frowned. “Sure was. He and his gang hung out around the Outer Banks when they weren’t busy terrorizing the British merchant fleet. Finally met his end right here on Ocracoke Island.”
Jamie leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I always thought that was just movie stuff, all those stories about Blackbeard.”
“Not all,” Sam declared. “The man’s real name was Edward Teach, an’ there’s a spot out past Silver Lake Harbor we call Teach’s Hole Channel. That’s where Lieutenant Robert Maynard of the British Royal Navy killed him. Musta been some fight. Them pirates and the Royal Navy.” He shook his head. “I’d’ve liked to see that.”
“Is he buried here on the island?”
“Somewhere.” Sam leaned closer to the table and lowered his voice to a whisper. “But not in any graveyard, I’ll tell you that. Some say his head is in one place and the rest of him in t’other, so even his ghost won’t be able to come back and haunt us.”
“Yeah, right,” Jamie said skeptically, but his eyes were round.
Getting into the spirit of storytelling, Leigh folded her arms on the table and said, “I remember my father talking about the time those British servicemen were drowned off the tip of the island. During the Second World War.”
“Yep. The church bell was ringin’ that night. What a tragedy! All those fine young men—no more’n teenagers. The village was so taken with the whole event, they even set aside a special graveyard for the men.”
Jamie’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what that little graveyard is off the harbor? I was wondering about that place.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn about your background, young fellow. Your heritage is a damn fine one.”
He so seldom swore Leigh turned to look at the old man. His eyes were glistening. After a moment’s silence he said to Leigh, “Well, we’d best be off, my dear. These old bones can’t take late hours anymore.”
They pushed back their chairs and wandered around the side of the house to the front. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, but there was still plenty of afterglow. Jamie peered at his watch.
“It’s not even nine yet. In Charlotte I wouldn’t be in bed until after eleven.”
“Ah,” Sam teased, “but this here is Ocracoke and we’re up with the sun. You an’ me are fixin’ that hole in the dinghy tomorrow. Then I plan to take you out on the Sound for some mullet. About time you learned how to net mullet.”
Jamie rolled his eyes, but flashed Leigh a grin. She smiled back and raised her shoulders in mock helplessness.
“He’s right, Jamie. I plan to be up early myself and to, oh, weed the garden and maybe get a coat of paint on the trim.”
Sam held up a finger. “Don’t you be climbing any ladders. I’ll have the boy come over—or maybe Spencer, when he gets back.”
“Sam! I’m only kidding. I’ve been a city girl for too many years. I’ll probably sleep till noon.”
They smiled at that—humoring her, she realized. When they’d disappeared from sight across the road and down the slope to the beach, Leigh walked up to the front veranda to watch the remnants of sunset. The evening had turned out much better than she’d anticipated. In spite of Sam’s old-fashioned ideas, his love for Jamie had been obvious. Especially in his tolerance of the almost insolent remarks Jamie often made.
And Leigh had been pleased to see now and then a glimmer of real affection in the boy’s eyes for his grandfather. Whatever Jamie’s problems had been—or still were—there appeared to be potential for improvement. At least Leigh hoped so for Spencer’s sake.
Later, after she’d showered and crawled into bed, her mind returned to Jamie’s remarks about his childhood. The picture of his early years wasn’t the one she and Jen had imagined when they’d fantasized about their futures. Long before Spencer McKay had taken Leigh into his arms at the Sadie Hawkins dance. Long
Sam frowned. “Sure was. He and his gang hung out around the Outer Banks when they weren’t busy terrorizing the British merchant fleet. Finally met his end right here on Ocracoke Island.”
Jamie leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I always thought that was just movie stuff, all those stories about Blackbeard.”
“Not all,” Sam declared. “The man’s real name was Edward Teach, an’ there’s a spot out past Silver Lake Harbor we call Teach’s Hole Channel. That’s where Lieutenant Robert Maynard of the British Royal Navy killed him. Musta been some fight. Them pirates and the Royal Navy.” He shook his head. “I’d’ve liked to see that.”
“Is he buried here on the island?”
“Somewhere.” Sam leaned closer to the table and lowered his voice to a whisper. “But not in any graveyard, I’ll tell you that. Some say his head is in one place and the rest of him in t’other, so even his ghost won’t be able to come back and haunt us.”
“Yeah, right,” Jamie said skeptically, but his eyes were round.
Getting into the spirit of storytelling, Leigh folded her arms on the table and said, “I remember my father talking about the time those British servicemen were drowned off the tip of the island. During the Second World War.”
“Yep. The church bell was ringin’ that night. What a tragedy! All those fine young men—no more’n teenagers. The village was so taken with the whole event, they even set aside a special graveyard for the men.”
Jamie’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what that little graveyard is off the harbor? I was wondering about that place.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn about your background, young fellow. Your heritage is a damn fine one.”
He so seldom swore Leigh turned to look at the old man. His eyes were glistening. After a moment’s silence he said to Leigh, “Well, we’d best be off, my dear. These old bones can’t take late hours anymore.”
They pushed back their chairs and wandered around the side of the house to the front. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, but there was still plenty of afterglow. Jamie peered at his watch.
“It’s not even nine yet. In Charlotte I wouldn’t be in bed until after eleven.”
“Ah,” Sam teased, “but this here is Ocracoke and we’re up with the sun. You an’ me are fixin’ that hole in the dinghy tomorrow. Then I plan to take you out on the Sound for some mullet. About time you learned how to net mullet.”
Jamie rolled his eyes, but flashed Leigh a grin. She smiled back and raised her shoulders in mock helplessness.
“He’s right, Jamie. I plan to be up early myself and to, oh, weed the garden and maybe get a coat of paint on the trim.”
Sam held up a finger. “Don’t you be climbing any ladders. I’ll have the boy come over—or maybe Spencer, when he gets back.”
“Sam! I’m only kidding. I’ve been a city girl for too many years. I’ll probably sleep till noon.”
They smiled at that—humoring her, she realized. When they’d disappeared from sight across the road and down the slope to the beach, Leigh walked up to the front veranda to watch the remnants of sunset. The evening had turned out much better than she’d anticipated. In spite of Sam’s old-fashioned ideas, his love for Jamie had been obvious. Especially in his tolerance of the almost insolent remarks Jamie often made.
And Leigh had been pleased to see now and then a glimmer of real affection in the boy’s eyes for his grandfather. Whatever Jamie’s problems had been—or still were—there appeared to be potential for improvement. At least Leigh hoped so for Spencer’s sake.
Later, after she’d showered and crawled into bed, her mind returned to Jamie’s remarks about his childhood. The picture of his early years wasn’t the one she and Jen had imagined when they’d fantasized about their futures. Long before Spencer McKay had taken Leigh into his arms at the Sadie Hawkins dance. Long
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