Dropped Dead Stitch Read Online Free PDF Page A

his welcome speech. Then Dr. Norcross turned her warm gaze to Jennifer once again. “Why don’t you and I take a walk together, Jennifer? Would that be okay?”
    Jennifer looked up and nodded. “Yeah . . . okay.”
    Dr. Norcross placed her arm around Jennifer’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “There’s a pretty trail over here by the trees that leads down to the creek below,” she said as she and Jennifer walked away. Glancing over her shoulder again, Dr. Norcross said, “Lisa, you and Kelly can check in. Your cabin room is the farthest on the right side of the building.”
    Kelly watched Jennifer and her therapist walk toward the trees, and she felt that knot in her stomach start to loosen a little. Thank heaven Dr. Norcross was here. Otherwise, Jen would be sitting at home alone with all those horrible memories resurfacing throughout the weekend. And Kelly and Lisa wouldn’t be there to help her.
    The little voice inside Kelly’s head whispered, You mean, rescue her? You can’t rescue Jennifer. You know that. Kelly remembered what Jayleen had once said: “People have to rescue themselves.”
    That unsettling little reminder worked its way through Kelly’s brain. Okay, so she couldn’t rescue Jennifer. Jen would have to do that herself. With the help of good therapists like Dr. Norcross and others. But meanwhile, Jennifer’s friends could do their best to smooth the road for her. After all, that’s what friends do. They could do that, at least.
    “That was great timing, wasn’t it?” Lisa said, heading across the barnyard once again. “Thank God Dr. Norcross appeared.”
    “Yeah, let’s see how Jennifer feels after they’ve talked. If she still wants to go home, I’ll drive her,” Kelly said, following Lisa. “Meanwhile, let’s take a look and see how rustic these rooms are.”
    “Well, I don’t see an outhouse anywhere, so I think we may be okay. That building looks like it has a classroom between the cabin rooms. So, there must be bathrooms inside.”
    “Don’t be so sure. That outhouse may be hiding in the trees.”
     
     
    Kelly perched on the split-log railing that ran around the cabin and classroom complex. Now that it was early May, the trees were almost fully leafed-out with pale green leaves. The leaves would darken later in the month with the sun’s lengthening days, moving toward summer.
    Next would come the spring runoff. Or, the May Melt-off, actually, when mountain snows all over Colorado’s Rockies started to melt and flow toward the creeks and streams, swelling them as they rushed toward the rivers. That was Kelly’s favorite time to visit the river. Watch it roar through the narrows and crash against the rocks, hurrying downstream where it widened, deceptively calm until it turned another bend. White water again.
    This canyon was named for the mountain river that ran through it—the Cache La Poudre. Starting high at the top of the Continental Divide, the river trickled down the mountains in a small stream that grew as it flowed out of the canyon.
    In the early summer after the spring runoff, the Poudre—as everyone called it—ran high and fast. It was a class five kayaking river, five out of six on the danger scale, calling adventure seekers from all over to come and test their abilities against its treacherous currents.
    Most people in Fort Connor had learned or heard how dangerous the Poudre River could be, especially in the spring. Its swollen waters concealed the labyrinth of rocks and boulders below, hiding the tree branches and limbs that reached out and pulled many a kayaker to their death. Experience was no match for hidden hazards that snagged the unsuspecting.
    Strength was no match for the river’s swift currents, either. Many a person who thought they could swim across the fast-rushing waters was swept away. Life jackets helped but did not guarantee safety. If someone was pulled under the water long enough, death was inevitable. It didn’t take long to