Carolina Mist by Mariah Stewart

Author:Mariah Stewart [Stewart, Mariah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Blast From The Past, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781451633092
Google: 291tBpo87YQC
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2010-11-15T22:00:00+00:00

25

“…so I guess the best thing for me to do is to drive down to the hardware store and see if they have a longer ladder.” Alex leaned back in his chair after a hearty Saturday lunch, both arms resting along the arms of the kitchen chair. “Abby… Abby?” He leaned slightly to the left, as if to invade her field of vision.

“What?” Embarrassed at having been caught daydreaming, Abby blushed. At least, she thought gratefully, he can't read my mind.

“I said, the ladder is too short to reach the top of the windows on the second floor. I’m going to Phelps’s to see if they have a longer one.” He was clearly amused by her discomfiture.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I was… ah… just thinking,” she stammered. I was just thinking of how adorable you look with all those little curls of paint in your hair. “About dinner.”

“Do you need anything from downtown?” he asked as he began to clear the table of their lunch dishes.

“I don’t know. That is, I don’t know what to have for dinner.” That was a stupid thing to say, she chided herself. You’ve had the dinner menu planned all week.

“Oh? Looked like beef Stroganoff, last time I looked in the refrigerator. Beef. Mushrooms. Sour cream.” He winked as he went through the door into the kitchen.

Get a grip, she commanded. You are acting like a lovesick adolescent. Find a way to get over it. Or at least function normally when he’s around.

“You’re right.” She laughed self-consciously. “I had planned on Stroganoff for tonight. I don’t know what I was thinking of.”

“Probably all that old dust you’re stirring up has gone to your head. It’s a beautiful afternoon, Ab. Let’s walk downtown.”

“If you walk, how will you get the ladder back here? Assuming that they have one. And wouldn’t it be easier to call and ask what size ladders they have?”

“Yes, of course. Okay, I admit, I’m only looking for an excuse to take a walk with you. Come on, Ab. You’ve been cooped up all week, breathing in dust and dirt and who knows what else. Take thirty minutes and get some fresh air.”

Just a short thirty-minute walk, she told herself. I do need the fresh air. As if to convince herself, she coughed a dry cough. Alex’s right. Too much dust and old plaster, too much dried old wallpaper glue.

He slowed his pace to match hers as they followed the uneven sidewalk toward the end of Cove Road, toward the center of Primrose.

“Remember old Mrs. Lawrence, Ab?” he asked as they walked past the home of the woman, now surely deceased, who had been a regular guest at Aunt Leila’s Sunday teas.

“I certainly do. She was tall and angular and smelled of cloves.”

“And she had that dog that used to bark like a demon when we rode past on our bikes.”

“A boxer, it was. I remember how she was so proud that she was the only person in Primrose to have a boxer.”

“I always wondered what that dog would have done to us if he’d gotten loose.

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