Upon a Mystic Tide Read Online Free PDF

“There’s something special there, luring me. I have to see what it is.” She couldn’t explain her feelings fully; she didn’t understand them herself. But the sense of mystery, of urgency, of irresistible allure was there, and so strong. It oddly promised that at Seascape Inn she could do what she hadn’t been able to do here: sort through the remnants of her life and plan her future—a future without John.
    “No, then,” Maggie said softly. “He’s not like us.”
    Bess had known it. But knowing and hearing it confirmed were two different things. Gooseflesh raised on her arms and she had the hardest time catching her breath. “Does this man have a name?”
    “Yes, of course. But—”
    T. J. breezed into the show room. “You’re all set, Bess. Miss Hattie’s expecting you.”
    “Great.” Bess glanced at Maggie and, seeing the lines of tension creasing her brow, backed off. Mystical events occurring or not, extra stress during pregnancy was bad for Maggie and the baby. If she said that this—whatever this proved to be—was all right, then certainly it would prove exactly that. “You can relax, Prego. No more questions. I said I’d trust you, and I will.”
    Maggie slumped against T. J. in obvious relief. “Thanks.”
    Bess smiled, kissed Maggie on the cheek, then stretched up to place a peck on T. J.’s jaw. When she drew back, she stared at him, long and hard. “For you, I have one question. How did you know I’d be going to Seascape before I knew I’d be going to Seascape?”
    His mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. He gave Maggie an inquisitive glance then, clearly not liking her nonverbal response, he returned a worried gaze to Bess. “Just a guess.”
    “Hmmm.” Something told her not to push. And she decided to go with it. T. J. too had earned her respect and trust. “As it turned out, a darn good one.”
    “Appears so.” Conspicuously happy to be off the hot seat, he grinned. “Your tickets are at the airport reception desk. American. Three o’clock flight.”
    “I’d better hurry, then.” She moved toward the gallery’s entrance door.
    “Bess,” Maggie raised her voice to be heard, “Don’t forget to phone Francine. She said you’ve been ducking her calls, and she needs to talk with you. It’s urgent.”
    “With Francine, it’s always urgent.” Bess paused at the glass front door. “Thanks,” her gratitude stuck in her throat, “for everything.”
    “Be careful, okay?” Maggie had that worried gleam in her eye again.
    It warned Bess what she didn’t know could hurt her. Still, on looking at the painting, those good feelings had been so strong. Once she got to Seascape, things would settle out okay; she just knew it. She waved, then left Lakeview Gallery.
    The bell on the door still tinkling in the back rooms, Maggie watched Bess disappear beyond the tinted-glass windows at the end of the riverfront walkway.
    T. J. joined her. Looking out through the glass onto the busy street, he grimaced. “Think she’ll call Francine?”
    “Nope.” Maggie looked up at her husband, her eyes shining. “But finally Tony’s interceding.”
    T. J. rubbed their noses. “Did you tell her about him?”
    Maggie ran her fingertips up and down the soft placket of his plaid shirt, between the second and third buttons. “Not exactly.”
    “Honey, you should have told her. Remember how you reacted to Tony? He scared the bejesus out of you.”
    He had. He’d gotten MacGregor’s attention too. Cranky because he failed to mention that fact, she lifted her chin. “I hinted.”
    He looked at her with too-seeing eyes. “Okay, ’fess up. Why didn’t you tell her?”
    Maggie snuggled against him. “Worrying about Tony drew us together. I figured—”
    “Matchmaking.” T. J. grunted and clasped her shoulders. “I should have known. You’re as bad as Miss Hattie.”
    “Miss Hattie’s an angel, and you know it.”
    “Did I say she wasn’t?”
    “No, but you sure implied