Dreams of Seduction Read Online Free PDF Page B

hand and shoved the drawer closed. There was a recipe in here for scones that melted in your mouth.
    Dropping into one of the kitchen chairs, she carefully opened to the first page. Her grandmother’s perfect writing covered the page. “Oh, Gran,” she whispered.
    Closing her eyes, Maggie took a deep breath. She wouldn’t cry. There was no point and she’d already shed a million of them. Her family was gone and she was the last. She was luckier than most. She had a home and many, many wonderful memories.
    She opened her eyes and stared at the kitchen counter. The wall color was different now, but the kitchen hadn’t changed much since Maggie was a child. She had many fond memories of standing on a chair next to her grandmother, thrilled at being allowed to stir and measure and help make all sorts of delectable treats.
    All that had stopped when she was eleven and her mother and new stepfather had whisked her off to California. She hadn’t cooked since.
    “I can do this.” She was thirty years old. Certainly she could follow a recipe. How hard could it be?
    Rising from the table, she set to work. It took her a while to find all the utensils she needed. “I really need to go through everything in this house.” Short of removing her grandmother’s clothing and donating it to charity, Maggie hadn’t sorted through any of the papers, books and years of accumulated stuff that filled all the drawers and closets.
    She turned on the radio, tuning it to a local station as she worked. She hummed along even though she didn’t know the words to the song and sifted and stirred. Flour, butter, sugar, milk and one or two other ingredients were all mixed together. Maggie enjoyed the entire process of taking the raw ingredients and turning them into something ready to bake.
    With the scones safely in the oven, Maggie decided it was time to start going through some of her grandmother’s things. The hutch in the dining room was as good a place to start as any.
    Opening the top doors, she stared at all the dishes crammed inside. Her grandmother had loved to yard sale, but she’d had a great eye. Time passed swiftly as Maggie unloaded the hutch, piling all the dishes and serving pieces, everything from Fiestaware to fine china, onto the dining room table. She’d need to get some boxes and pack up what she didn’t want. She could store them in the spare room for now. Maybe she’d list some of the better pieces on eBay or maybe have her own yard sale in the spring.
    She was admiring a green Depression glass bowl when the smell of smoke tickled her nostrils. “Shit!”
    She practically tossed the bowl aside and raced into the kitchen. Smoke was seeping from around the oven door.
    Grabbing oven mitts, she opened it. A billow of smoke surged outward, stinging her eyes and nose.
    She waved at it for a few seconds and then reached in, yanked the pan out and set it on the stovetop.
    She stared at the blacken lumps.
    Maggie jumped when the smoke detector began to blare. Swearing under her breath, she opened the back door to let in some fresh air and waved a dishtowel under the smoke detector. It blasted for a few more moments before going silent.
    She stared around the kitchen. The place was a mess. She had spilt flour, bowls and measuring cups on the counter. The dining table was piled high with dishes. And her blackened scones reigned supreme from their perch on the stove.
    Maggie stared at it all and her lips began to twitch. Then she began to chuckle. Seconds later it turned to laughter. She hugged her stomach as she laughed so hard tears rolled down her cheeks. She swiped them away. “Oh, Gran. If you could only see me now.”
    When her laughter eventually subsided, Maggie took the ruined scones and dumped them in the garbage. At the last moment, she rescued two of them and cut away the blackened bits. “Maybe the gulls will eat them.” She walked outside and to the edge of the garden before tossing them away. She’d check later