Patterns in the Sand Read Online Free PDF

you invited me to talk to your customers. So I didn’t exactly break in. Not really.”
     
     
A confused look passed between Izzy and Nell. They looked back at Willow.
     
     
“Talk to my customers?”
     
     
“Or teach a class, whatever. You know, on fiber art.” Willow motioned to her battered duffel bag sitting on the floor beside the checkout counter as if it explained everything. “Remember? You saw some of my work in a coffee shop in Cambridge. And you e-mailed me that if ever I was in this part of the world, I should come by your shop. I was. So I did.”
     
     
Recognition registered with Nell and Izzy at the same time. A small coffee shop in Harvard Square. They’d stopped in after shopping for a birthday present for Ben and admired a piece of fiber art that hung on one wall.
     
     
“Sure. Of course. I remember now,” Nell said. “W. Adams, the flyer said. Your pieces were beautiful. It was a year or so ago, right?”
     
     
Willow nodded. “Yes. I don’t live around here. I’m not from here, so it took a while, you know?”
     
     
Nell didn’t know, and neither did Izzy. The young woman wasn’t making a whole lot of sense, and Nell wondered for a moment if she was on something. But she remembered the young woman’s work. Bright, bold yarn, woven into interesting shapes and patterns and textures. The Harvard Square coffee shop owner had said that the artist didn’t live in the East, but she gave them each a flyer with her name, e-mail address, and some interesting information about her creative process.
     
     
“I shouldn’t have shown up on your doorstep like this, but, well, here I am.” She offered another small smile and looked down at Purl, purring contentedly on her lap. “I guess I should say window, not doorstep.”
     
     
Willow seemed totally focused on the kitten, her fingers rubbing Purl’s back and neck. Finally she looked up again. “But you invited me to come. Right?”
     
     
Izzy nodded. “I guess I did.”
     
     
Nell found herself smiling kindly at the young woman. There was something guileless about her—yet beneath the surface, Nell suspected Willow Adams bore the weight of a life that hadn’t been totally carefree.
     
     
“Will you be in Sea Harbor for a while?” Izzy asked. “I think we could plan something. When would you like to come in?”
     
     
“I could do it now. Well not now . But soon?” Willow’s brows lifted again and her eyes opened wide.
     
     
A hopeful look. “So you’re staying in Sea Harbor for a while?” Nell asked.
     
     
Willow shook her head yes. “Well, a short while. Just a few days.”
     
     
“We might be able to do something next week,” Izzy said, walking over to the checkout counter. She picked up the shop calendar. “I’d need time to send out an e-mail to our customers. We’d need to put up some posters along Harbor Road, get it in the paper.”
     
     
“I think that means Ben can send the police away?” Nell asked Izzy. The young woman seemed harmless enough, though the fact that she had somehow broken into Izzy’s shop wasn’t totally overlooked.
     
     
Izzy looked at Ben, who was now standing in the doorway, holding Tommy and his partner at bay. “I guess that’s fine, Uncle Ben. Please tell Tommy we’re okay. I don’t think there’s any damage.”
     
     
“Oh, no. There’s no damage,” Willow said, holding one hand out in front of her. Her voice rose slightly. “I don’t steal. Honest, I don’t. It’s just that it was so late, I’d been on the road awhile, and I didn’t know where else to go.” She scratched Purl behind the ears while she talked, and Nell knew that if for no other reason, Izzy would accommodate Willow because she liked Purl. And the feeling was clearly mutual.
     
     
“Where are you staying?” Nell asked. She was beginning to feel the late hour, her back giving notice that it had been a long day. It was time for bed. “We’ll give you a lift.”
     
     
Willow set Purl down beside her in the bay window and stood up on the shop floor.