Dropped Dead Stitch Read Online Free PDF Page B

right there on his porch. Gave him hell, too. She told him she didn’t want to see his face this weekend. And warned him he’d better stay in his house and away from me or any other retreat attendees. Everett turned white and ran inside the house.”
    “Way to go, Dr. Norcross!” Kelly cried in delight.
    Greta glanced over her shoulder to where Dr. Norcross was gesturing from the doorway. “Hey, guys, I think the session is about to start. Why don’t we walk in together,” she said, beckoning Jennifer down the porch.
    “See you at the yarn session afterwards.” Jen gave a wave to Kelly as she walked away.
    “I’m going in now,” Lisa said. “Why don’t you go on that hike, Kelly. You can explore for both of us.”
    Kelly stared after her friends for a few seconds, then headed toward the trees. They’d been beckoning her ever since she arrived.

Three
    Lisa scattered an assortment of colorful yarns across pine picnic tables that were clustered together on the wooden deck. Kelly moved chairs around to create a rough imitation of the Lambspun knitting table. A more rustic setting, but also a more beautiful one, Kelly had to admit.
    The deck that stretched out in back of the ranch house was definitely inviting. It urged Kelly to sit and look and listen. Gaze at the rocky walls of Poudre Canyon she could see through the trees beside the creek that flowed below. Listen to the music of the water rushing past. Perched on the edge, the deck jutted out over a rocky slope that angled down toward the creek bank.
    It was a shame to waste this beautiful view on that bastard , she thought.
    “Here they come,” Lisa announced.
    Kelly spotted the women wandering around the outside of the ranch house. They slowly trickled onto the deck, talking in subdued voices, commenting on the scenery. That is, until they saw the yarns scattered on every table. All donated by Mimi at Lambspun. Exclamations of “How pretty,” “Feel this, it’s so soft,” “Look at these colors,” and “Is this a yarn?” The women indulged themselves like all visitors to the knitting shop. Indeed, it had been Kelly’s own experience when she first fell down the rabbit hole into that wonderland of fiber.
    “Sit wherever you like,” Lisa directed, motioning to the women who surrounded the picnic tables. “We’ve tried to re-create our long knitting table at Lambspun back in town. It’s where everybody gathers. Knitters, spinners, weavers, and hookers.”
    A young woman with short brown hair and a name tag reading CASSIE gave her a shocked look.
    “ Hookers are what we call ourselves when we’re crocheting, because we use the hook instead of needles.” Lisa gestured, as if there was any confusion.
    “Pick a yarn you like and we’ll show you how to work with it. Most of these yarns will work well for knitting or crochet,” Kelly announced as she watched the women pick over the yarns, making their selections. “We’ve got some real simple projects you can start on.”
    “Did all these yarns come from that shop in town?” a short brunette asked as she examined a ball of lime green chenille. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, she had a name tag that said EDIE.
    “Yes, Mimi Shafer, the owner of Lambspun, donated the yarns and supplies for this retreat.”
    “Shrewd marketing move,” said a slender, thirtyish blonde named Nancy, as she scrutinized a fluffy skein of indigo merino wool and mohair.
    Kelly had to laugh. “You’re right about that. Mimi is a shrewd business owner as well as a kindhearted contributor to local causes.”
    “What are we going to use on these yarns? We need needles and hooks,” a girl with a state college tee shirt asked, holding aloft a ball of fluffy hot pink eyelash yarn. Her name tag said SUE.
    Kelly held up a canvas bag. “Don’t worry. We’ve got a bunch of needles and hooks of all sizes. We’re covered.”
    “What kind of projects do you have?” a fortyish frosted blonde asked. DAWN was printed in