Tempest's Course: Quilts of Love Series Read Online Free PDF

Kelly’s former foster mother. Lottie had always dreamed of having a shop. As Kelly’s dream had sprouted, so had Lottie’s.
    The gray-haired woman rose from the chair at the desk. “Kelly . . . it’s been too long.”
    “I thought I’d say hello before I left town. I put some of my things in storage, but I’m heading out now.” She hated the apologetic tone in her voice. In the same town, she could have gone by Lottie’s, either the shop or the old house. But she hadn’t.
    Busy, she always said. Fostered out, reality told her. Lottie had never turned her to the curb like some foster parents did when their children turned eighteen, but a sense of being on the outside, always, nudged Kelly away from the warm circle that was life in Lottie and her husband, Chuck’s, home. A gaggle of foster kids stair-stepped in ages had been her brothers and sisters for the final six years she was in the system. Her first six years had been seared from her memory.
    “Leaving, are you?” Lottie leaned on the counter. She acted as if she wanted to round the corner and give Kelly a hug but thought better of it.
    “New Bedford, at least through September, maybe October.”
    “Right on the coast. Beautiful.”
    “Contract says I need to live in Gray House while I work on my project. Nothing like living in an old mansion. Poor me.” Kelly laughed, but Lottie didn’t smile.
    “You be careful down there.” Lottie rubbed her arms and shivered. “Just knowing you’ve been here in town, knowing you’re all right . . .”
    “I’ll be fine. Besides, living on-site will save me rent. Good thing my lease is month to month here anyway.” She grinned at Lottie. “I’ll call you, or e-mail you. You are using e-mail, aren’t you?”
    “I know how to e-mail.” Lottie returned the grin, her expression lighting up her face. “Don’t be shocked, but Threads has a website, too. I’m not getting on the Facebook and Twitter stuff, though.”
    “You do what you think is best, really.” Kelly patted Lottie’s hand, soft and slightly wrinkled. “I know that Facebook can be a great marketing tool, but even I’m not to that point yet.” Willa had tried to talk her into it once, and had nearly succeeded until Kelly got a freaky friend request from a stranger who was “enchanted with her photograph.” That spurred her into deleting her account.
    “Make sure you call me, please, or something, and give me updates.” Lottie almost sounded as if she were pleading. “I always like making sure my kids are okay.”
    “I will. I promise.” Kelly watched as Lottie ambled around the counter. She closed her eyes as Lottie embraced her. The closest thing to a real mother she ever had, yet somehow it never seemed enough.
    After another good-bye and another promise to keep in touch, Kelly scurried from the shop and out to her car that fairly groaned with all her supplies and sundries. Two hours later, plus an extra half hour getting through a snarl in Boston traffic, she breathed a little easier. Good-bye, Haverhill. Good-bye to what she’d known for most of her adult life.
    The closer she’d gotten to the coast, the more clouds piled up along the western horizon. A storm system drifting across the area. New Bedford greeted her with a bleak, gray sky. How fitting, given that she was now pulling up in front of Gray House. Wait. Mrs. Acres had said the back gate had a keypad and that she should take her car inside the perimeter of the property.
    A motorcycle sat crosswise on the slab that made up two parking spaces, leaving her no choice but to pull onto part of the lawn. Dark, tousled hair Tom what’s-his-name would probably object to her parking, but if he was the owner of the motorcycle, he was to blame.
    Her car sputtered to a stop, then the engine coughed and died. Well, she wasn’t about to go anywhere, anyhow. Although she probably should have stopped to pick up a few groceries. The idea had escaped her during her enthusiasm about the