Nightsong Read Online Free PDF

experience.
    “Everything’s ready, Elleny.” Tessa Honeycutt stood in the connecting doorway between the dining room and kitchen.
    Turning, Elleny smiled her thanks to Dan and Dora’s teenage daughter. “I’m so glad you came a little early to help with the last-minute preparations. The morning just didn’t go as planned, and I really was running behind. I’m accustomed to having Mrs. Sanders’ help during the week, and today nothing seemed to go right.”
    “No problem.” Tessa shrugged and gave Elleny a metallic grin. “I’ve fixed a tray, and A.J. and I will eat in his room.”
    Elleny consented and made a silent pledge to increase Tessa’s standard babysitting fee. With a last inspection of the table, Elleny went back to the living room and found Phillip standing before Mark’s painting. Quietly, she crossed the room. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, her attention on the picture, her senses tingling with a different type of appreciation.
    “Beautiful.” Phillip turned his slow gaze to her.
    A sweet rush of awareness skimmed through her, and she drew a quick breath of composure. “This is my favorite of all his work. Mark captured something in this painting. A haunting depth of feeling.” She tilted her head and met Phillip’s dark eyes. “I did warn you that I’m sentimental.”
    “So you did.” His smile was like the taste of fresh cream, rich and wonderful. “And you’re right. This canvas is haunting. It’s the work of a true artist.”
    He was watching her so closely, standing so near, and it seemed suddenly difficult to breathe, as if she were in a small, airless room. She was uncomfortable, her thoughts a confused jumble of impressions.
    “Dinner’s ready,” she said finally, taking a step back to give her mind and her lungs a little space. “It’s just the two of us. Jesse never leaves his part of the house after noon, and A.J. is upstairs with the baby-sitter, Tessa Honeycutt, Dan and Dora’s youngest daughter.” The explanation flowed with the monotony of a dripping faucet, but Elleny couldn’t seem to quell the need to say something, regardless of how inane.
    In the dining room she moved to the table and seated herself, gathering both perspective and her sense of humor. It was becoming apparent that she needed a lesson in best behavior too.
    Elleny waited until Phillip sat across from her before deciding that she was overreacting to a simple physical attraction. “I hope you like chicken.”
    “It’s my all-time favorite Sunday dinner.”
    With his smile she relaxed. “Where are you from, Phillip? I’ve been trying to figure out by your accent, but so far all I’m sure of is a trace of New England with maybe some underlying southern influence as well. Am I close?”
    “Boston, now. New York, before that. West Virginia, originally. You’re an observant listener.” He placed the napkin on his lap and began to serve himself. “As many times as you moved during your childhood, though, it’s no wonder you developed a good ear for dialects.”
    Elleny lifted her brows in puzzled question. “How did you know that?”
    Phillip hesitated in mid-motion, and the pause felt strangely awkward. “About the moves during your childhood? Mark mentioned it. Why? Isn’t it true?”
    “Well, yes. I only thought....” She let the sentence trail into nothing. There was no secret about her vagabond youth, and it really made little difference how Phillip had known about it. “My father was transferred almost every year,” she continued. “Consequently my mother, my two brothers, and I moved with him. People were fond of telling me how fortunate I was to live in so many different places, but it took a long time for me to realize the benefit.”
    “A great deal depends on your point of view, I guess. Personally, I’d have traded places with you in a minute. I grew up in the same city in which I was born, and I promised myself that one day I would travel whenever and wherever I