Carousel Seas Read Online Free

does the doorbell sound like a buoy bell now, Kate ?
    I sighed, gently.
    Because Borgan—who had been forcefully apprised of my feelings in re the bell—had probably fixed it for me. Honestly, welcome a man into the house and right away he starts messing with tradition.
    “Kate?” Peggy called from the door. “It’s Henry Emerson.”
    “Henry!” I called. “C’mon in! I’m just about to scramble some eggs. Am I adding some for you?”
    “Thank you,” Henry said. “I just had breakfast. A cup of coffee would be welcome. I apologize for intruding, but I have the letter here, and time is an issue.”
    Hell, yes, time was an issue. I’d forgotten about the letter—well, no. I hadn’t forgotten about it; the press of other matters had just shoved it to the back of my mind.
    “You’re not intruding,” I said, pouring whipped eggs into the frying pan. “Jersey, get the nice man a cup of coffee. And, hey—take a look at that letter, will you? If it’s not a conflict of interest, I’d like your opinion.”
    * * *
    Peggy cleared the table and made a new pot of coffee while I read the letter.
    “Seems to cover all the points,” I said to Henry, and “Thanks,” to Peggy. “States the case clearly. I say give it to Jess, and let’s start getting signatures.” I became aware of the quality of the silence from across the room, and turned my head to look at Peggy, who was standing hipshot against the sink, arms folded over her chest.
    “Not?” I suggested.
    She sighed.
    “I don’t bear any particular fondness for Arbitrary and Cruel, but they are my employer, so I gotta be careful, here,” she said, slowly. “I don’t think I’m telling any secrets if I say that corporate culture firmly embraces the ‘most profit for least effort, expense, and upkeep’ model of doing business.”
    “Right. Which is why we’re being careful to show them how there’s money in it for them by keeping the park open past Labor Day.”
    “. . . how maybe , if the committee’s right that there’s a market, there might be some unquantifiable amount of money in it for them, a couple years down the road.” Peggy shook her head. “In Arbitrary and Cruel Land, that’s tantamount to asking for a loan. Or a raise.” She shook her head, came back to the table, and picked up her mug.
    “I don’t think that letter will make any difference to Management’s plans,” she said, and drank coffee with the air of a woman who has, perhaps, said too much.
    I looked to Henry, who was being patient and poker-faced, because Henry’s a lawyer and that’s what lawyers do.
    “Can’t hurt to float the balloon?” I offered. “Worst they can do is say no, like Peggy says.”
    Henry nodded. “I agree. The final decision, of course, rests with the committee.”
    That was true enough; I wasn’t a decision-maker on this, just a volunteer selected by our chair, Jess Robald, to make sure the letter covered the points identified by the committee.
    “It’s a good idea, trying to grow the Season,” Peggy said suddenly. “Twelve weeks is . . . really short.”
    “Used to be longer,” I told her, “though I don’t think we were ever a twelve-month destination. When my grandmother’s back in town, I’ll have you over and she can explain how it used to be, back in the good old days.”
    Peggy grinned. “I’d like that.”
    “It’s a date, then.” I looked to Henry. “You want me to take that to Jess? I need to go down to the carousel this morning, and check in with Vassily.”
    “That would be very helpful, Kate, thank you,” Henry said. He put the letter in the center of the table, drank off what was left of his coffee and rose.
    “Thank you for the charming company—and for the coffee, which was delicious.”
    “Or at least better than Bob’s,” I said, giving him a grin. “Thanks, Henry. Stop by anytime.”
    “I may avail myself of that.” He turned, then turned back, one eyebrow quirking.
    “Do you expect your