CnC 4 A Harvest of Bones Read Online Free PDF Page A

Glenagary’s Rock, I had quite the scare a few mornings ago. I was out in the backyard hanging clothes when a gust of wind swirled around me, catching up my skirt. I thought something was watching me, but when I turned around, there was only the tree there, blowing in the wind.
    I don’t like that tree—it gives me nightmares, and I can’t help but wish Mr. Edward would chop it down. Silliness, I suppose. It’s a perfectly fine tree. Mary Kathryn would say I’m letting my imagination run away with me. Still, I try to avoid the backyard at night. I thought I saw lights out there once, but it was probably just the moonlight.
     
     
    I WOKE FROM disturbing dreams that I couldn’t remember, with a vague sense that something was out of place. Joe was lying beside me, curled up against my back. I turned to stare at his tangle of strawberry blond hair.
    My sweetheart. He might be ten years younger than I, but he exuded wisdom, confidence, and compassion. Even though his job terrified me—I was always afraid he was going to get burned or fall through a floor trying to rescue somebody—I knew it was his passion. The job was the perfect match for him. And he was the perfect match for me.
    Careful to avoid waking him, I slipped from beneath the covers and padded to the window. Overcast, but no rain yet. If we were lucky, it would hold off long enough to finish clearing the lot today. Murray and Jimbo had promised to drop by and give us a hand, though I had the feeling that Murray had more on her mind than yanking out blackberries. Since coming out in the open about her relationship with the renegade biker, she was having a hard time with some of the guys on the force. They didn’t cotton to a head of detectives who was, in their opinion, sleeping with the enemy. And she wasn’t about to give up either her job or her newfound love.
    I opened the window and took a long whiff of the chill morning air. The scent of wood smoke filtered in, and the thought occurred to me that maybe we’d better get a chimney sweep over before next week. We didn’t use the fireplace often, but when we did, I wanted to feel safe. Right now I could go for a crackling fire, curled up in a leather chair with an afghan to toss across my legs.
    As I stared into the backyard, the lot next door was barely visible over the top of the fence. Joe and I had discussed pulling the fence down, but we wanted to wait until we cleared out the years of vegetation. Plans were that the lot would become an extension of my property, when we finally made the move to join households. We wanted to plant gardens, create a little pond, maybe a gazebo. While not officially engaged, Joe and I had an understanding. This one was for keeps, regardless of I-do’s or golden rings.
    I realized I was shivering and shut the window. As I dug through my closet, hunting for my grunge clothes, Joe stirred.
    “Honey? What time is it?” he asked, squinting at the nightstand.
    “Nine. If you want to get the rest of the lot cleared, you’d better get up and eat. I’d like to get started before noon. I’ve decided I’m not going to clean the shop since I’m on vacation; Cinnamon and Lana can handle it.” Every Saturday morning, rain or shine, the kids and I trooped down to the Chintz ’n China and went to work, dusting, sweeping, polishing until it sparkled. But I was giving myself full latitude on my time off.
    The kids deserved a break, too, especially Kip, who had spent the first three Sundays of October at the Bread & Butter House, serving dinner to the poorer residents of Chiqetaw. He’d pulled a stupid stunt in August, and I hoped the lesson would teach him a little bit about generosity and honesty.
    Joe reached out for me and I crawled across the covers, still in my bathrobe, and settled into his arms. As we leaned back against the headboard, he played with my hair. “Emerald, are you okay with the fact that I bought the lot? I don’t want to move too fast, and you