Wicked Stitch Read Online Free PDF

the sides of my jeans, and joined her at the counter. “That’s all right. I can’t cancel the order, since it’s already gone through, but I’m sure I can resell the books.”
    She nodded. “I’m sorry.”
    “Just out of curiosity, what made you change your mind about the books?”
    “The woman next door . . . she ordered them for me free of charge. She said it was a first-time-customer discount,” said Ms. Fields.
    “Oh.” My initial surprise and jab of anger subsided enough to allow me to forgo taking myemotions out on my innocent customer—make that
ex
-customer. I even managed a smile. “How wonderful for you! I do hope you’ll keep the Seven-Year Stitch in mind the next time you need embroidery supplies.”
    “Yes . . . yes, of course I will. In fact, I thought I’d get some skeins of floss while I’m here.”
    “Thank you,” I said. “If you need help finding anything in particular, please let me know.”
    “I will.” She hurried over to the embroidery floss bins and came back momentarily with a double fistful of skeins. “I’ll take these, please.”
    I rang up her purchases and placed them in a periwinkle blue Seven-Year Stitch bag. “Thank you again for shopping with me. There’s a flyer in the bag telling you about the embroidery classes taught on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights. I and my students would love to have you drop in one evening. First class is always free.”
    “All right. Good-bye.”
    Ms. Fields took her bag and rushed out of the store. I noticed that she went in the opposite direction of Clara’s shop. Poor Ms. Fields. I doubted she intended to get caught up in the middle of our retail war—a war that in my opinion didn’t, or
shouldn’t
, exist.
    I went back to the sit-and-stitch square to resume my blackwork. But Angus suddenly began barking and nearly scared me out of my skin.
    “What in the world . . . ?” I jumped up and ran over to the window to see what had him so excited.
    There on the sidewalk was a large brown and white bunny. It was standing on its hind feet and was staring through the glass at Angus. Its little pink nose twitched as it moved its head back and forth. It seemed to be wondering how to get inside.
    It was obviously someone’s pet, and it didn’t appear to be frightened of Angus. Worried that it might wander out into the street and get run over by a car, I stepped outside and carefully approached the bunny. To my surprise and delight, it hopped right over to me. I scooped it up and took it inside.
    Angus immediately rushed to investigate. He’d been around cats a few times, but I didn’t think he’d ever been near a rabbit. The dog was usually wonderful around new people and animals, but I thought I should handle the situation cautiously.
    I sat on the tall stool behind the counter so I would be up high enough to get the bunny out of Angus’s reach should things go badly. I recalled seeing a pet adoption notice once where an adorable Great Pyrenees puppy was asking, “Can you pass this test? Chickens are (a) to be guarded with your life or (b) tasty snacks. I couldn’t pass the test, which is why I’m at the shelter looking for a new forever home.” I’d already adopted Angus by that time, or I might’ve gone right to the shelter and gotten that sweet puppy. He couldn’t help it if he hadn’t understood the deal with the chickens.
    I instructed Angus to sit. When he’d obeyed, Ilowered the bunny enough to allow the dog to give the much smaller creature a good snuffle. The rabbit stretched its neck out to sniff Angus’s muzzle. I decided it was either brave or dumb. Angus licked his new buddy’s head.
    The bunny, whom I’d christened Harvey in my mind, leapt from my lap and onto the floor. It raced around the shop, with Angus loping after it. At first, I was concerned that Angus might hurt little Harvey, either on purpose or by accident. Then I had to laugh when Angus ran past me with the bunny in