Last Light over Carolina Read Online Free

afternoon. At least, he hoped the rain would hold off till then. God knew, he desperately needed a good haul today, and it would be easier to get in and unload before the first drops fell.
    No doubt about it. It would be a risk out there alone if the wind picked up. But he’d only be out for one haul. He’d be back in dock before things got rough.
    Bud brought his arms tight around his chest and narrowed his eyes. To his mind, a man worked hard to take care of his family. He did whatever he could, whatever toll it took. Withor without a crew, he was the captain of this vessel, and it was his duty to bring home the shrimp. He leaned forward, gripping the railing tight, and stared out at the dock. He only needed to bring in one good haul to pay the diesel fuel bill. One good haul, he repeated to himself, and he could keep his boat on the water.
    What choice did he have? Failure would mean the loss of everything he’d worked so hard for.
    Bud tugged down the rim of his cap, his decision made.
    “Well, all right then.”

2
    September 21, 2008, 6:50 a.m.
    White Gables, McClellanville
    C arolina awoke with a start. Her arm shot across the bed, instinctively reaching for Bud. She patted the mattress to find his side of the bed empty and the sheets cold. Turning to her side, she lifted herself slightly on one elbow. The dull gray light of early morning filtered through the curtains. Knowing it was late, she looked at the clock. Bud was gone.
    She fell back against her pillow and let her forearm rest over her eyes. He’s always gone, she thought.
    She had a vague memory of waking earlier, in the darkpredawn hours. A shadowy image of Bud standing at the window came back to her. His words sounded like an echo in her brain. You sleep. Back by noon, latest. That was hours ago. He’d be on the water by now. The thought that she hadn’t made him breakfast brought a twinge of guilt.
    The house was quiet. She sighed and let her mind drift to that velvety, drowsy state where, if she lay very still with her eyes closed, she could slide back into her dream. She didn’t often have the luxury of time to lie in bed in the early morning. And her dream had been so vivid it lingered in her subconscious, calling her back. It was one of those dreams that felt so real. She could recognize the voices, smell familiar scents, even feel the satiny coolness of skin.
    In the dream, she and Bud were together aboard the Miss Carolina . She was standing aft, her chin slanted into a cool, crisp wind that tossed her hair. She was young—in her twenties—and Bud’s arms encircled her, strong and secure. Ardent. They watched the sun rise—or set, she couldn’t tell. She remembered it was a blinding, breathtaking panorama of lavender, rose, and yellow that spread out over the ocean into infinity. They were engulfed in color. Most of all, she remembered being happy—filled with a heady, tingling, deeply abiding joy at just being on the boat in her man’s arms.
    Then, with a sudden cruelty, a dark storm had risen up, swift and violent. In an instant Bud was wrenched from her arms, and though she reached out for him, cried out for him, she felt only a savage emptiness. In the darkness, she couldhear his voice calling her name in the wind, over and over. She clawed out into the mist, crying. But he was gone.
    That’s when she’d awoken, reaching for him.
    Carolina shuddered and moved her arm to stare up at the ceiling. Her heart was beating hard. Waking hadn’t taken the edge off the fear and panic or the sense that something was wrong. She brought her hand up to her tender jaw. Could it have been her bad tooth that caused the nightmare?
    Or maybe it was the cross words that she and Bud had exchanged the night before.
    Carolina felt an old sadness well up at that thought. When they’d first married and were in the throes of love, they’d sworn never to go to bed angry. That promise, like so many others, had been broken over the years. Now they both