“This place has an interesting history,” Gibson told Kate. “Years ago, residents used to get here by small coasting vessels from Boston. When the boat landed, they’d be met by a buggy and taken to their houses.”
“How many people live on this island?” Kate asked.
“About fifty families. Did you see the lighthouse when the ferry docked?”
“Yes.”
“It’s run by a lighthouse keeper and his dog. When a boat goes by the dog goes out and rings the bell.”
Kate laughed. “You’re joking.”
“No, ma’am. The funny thing is the dog is deaf as a stone. He puts his ear against the bell to feel if there’s any vibration.”
Kate smiled. “It sounds as if you have a fascinating island here.”
“It might be worth your while staying over and taking a look around in the morning.”
On an impulse, Kate said, “Why not?”
She spent the night at the island’s only hotel, the Islesboro Inn. In the morning she hired a horse and carriage, driven by one of the islanders. They left the center of Dark Harbor, which consisted of a general store, a hardware store and a small restaurant, and a few minutes later they were driving through a beautiful wooded area. Kate noticed that none of the little winding roads had names, nor were there any names on the mailboxes. She turned to her guide. “Don’t people get lost here without any signs?”
“Nope. The islanders know where everythin’ is.”
Kate gave him a sidelong look. “I see.”
At the lower end of the island, they passed a burial ground.
“Would you stop, please?” Kate asked.
She stepped out of the carriage and walked over to the old cemetery and wandered around looking at the tombstones.
JOB PENDLETON, DIED JANUARY 25, 1794, AGE 47. The epitaph read: Beneath this stone, I rest my head in slumber sweet; Christ blessed the bed.
JANE, WIFE OF THOMAS PENDLETON, DIED FEBRUARY 25, 1802, AGE 47.
There were spirits here from another century, from an era long gone. CAPTAIN WILLIAM HATCH DROWNED IN LONG ISLAND SOUND, OCTOBER 1866, AGE 30 YEARS. The epitaph on his stone read: Storms all weathered and life’s seas crossed.
Kate stayed there a long time, enjoying the quiet and peace. Finally, she returned to the carriage and they drove on.
“What is it like here in the winter?” Kate asked.
“Cold. The bay used to freeze solid, and they’d come from the mainland by sleigh. Now a’ course, we got the ferry.”
They rounded a curve, and there, next to the water below, was a beautiful white-shingled, two-story house surrounded by delphinium, wild roses and poppies. The shutters on the eight front windows were painted green, and next to the double doors were white benches and six pots of red geraniums. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.
“Who owns that house?”
“That’s the old Dreben house. Mrs. Dreben died a few months back.”
“Who lives there now?”
“Nobody, I reckon.”
“Do you know if it’s for sale?”
The guide looked at Kate and said, “If it is, it’ll probably be bought by the son of one of the families already livin’ here. The islanders don’t take kindly to strangers.”
It was the wrong thing to say to Kate.
One hour later, she was speaking to a lawyer for the estate. “It’s about the Dreben house,” Kate said. “Is it for sale?”
The lawyer pursed his lips. “Well, yes, and no.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s for sale, but a few people are already interested in buying it.”
The old families on the island, Kate thought. “Have they made an offer?”
“Not yet, but—”
“I’m making one,” Kate said.
He said condescendingly, “That’s an expensive house.”
“Name your price.”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
“Let’s go look at it.”
The inside of the house was even more enchanting than Kate had anticipated. The large, lovely hall faced the sea through a wall of glass. On one side of the hall was a large ballroom, and on the other side, a living room with fruitwood paneling stained by time and an enormous fireplace. There was a library, and a huge kitchen with an iron stove and a large pine worktable, and off of that was a butler’s pantry and laundry room. Downstairs, the house had six bedrooms for the servants and one bathroom. Upstairs was a master bedroom suite and four smaller bedrooms. It was a much larger house than Kate had expected. But when David and I have our children, she thought, we’ll need all these rooms. The grounds ran all the way down to the bay, where there was a private dock.