LB 05 The Best From Swans Nest by Bartlett Lorraine

Author:Bartlett, Lorraine [Bartlett, Lorraine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy Mystery
ISBN: 9781940801605
Published: 2019-05-19T04:00:00+00:00

3

The sound of the wind never really bothered Teagan. Even in the desert, she somehow found a wailing storm to be reminiscent of a song. It should have frightened her. Strong winds could be deadly and destructive, but oddly enough she believed they would never hurt her. It was a stupid assumption, but she couldn’t shake that feeling.

The relentless gale must have howled throughout the night, but Teagan had only awakened twice. The first time, after a dream. She’d stood on the shore of an island but it looked nothing like she’d seen on her visit to Martha’s Vineyard. She watched the sun sink into the horizon as a voice called from somewhere behind her. “What are you waiting for?”

The second time, she’d awoken, the wind was the cause. Teagan was glad she’d left the battery-operated lantern her hostess had given her alight, finding its glow a comfort, and had easily drifted back to sleep. Still, the next morning she was up before sunlight broke over the island.

After a quick wash, she dressed and wandered downstairs, she tiptoed through the lobby/common room area and could see lights in the kitchen beyond. “Hello,” she called so as not to startle her hostess.

“Good morning, Teagan,” Blythe said.

Teagan entered the brightly lit kitchen. She could still hear the muffled roar of the generator, so she knew that power had not yet been restored to the island, but she could also smell the heavenly aroma of something delicious baking in the big ivory-colored AGA cooker that took up a considerable amount of real estate in that kitchen.

“What’re you baking?” Teagan asked.

“Blueberry muffins. I picked the berries myself last fall.”

“Smells heavenly.”

“Of course, you and Adam can have just about anything you want for breakfast. I don’t usually have such an open-ended menu, but these are unusual circumstances.”

A particularly loud gust of wind shook the building once more. The women looked at each other and Teagan gave a nervous laugh. “Do you ever worry about these storms?”

Blythe shook her head and gave a knowing smile. “The core of this house was built over two centuries before I was born. I have no doubt it will be here two centuries after I’m gone.”

“That must comfort you.”

“It does.” She changed the subject. “Did you sleep all right?” Blythe asked, her concern genuine.

“Better than I would have thought. Going back to my room was like a warm welcome home.” She shrugged, feeling embarrassed. “I know that sounds stupid, but—”

“Not at all,” Blythe assured her.

“I woke up a couple of times but went right back to sleep. I dreamed about the ocean.” “Funny thing is … it wasn’t here on Martha’s Vineyard. At least, I don’t think so. There were waves gently lapping against a sandy beach and a beautiful sunset.”

The timer on the cooker rang and Blythe grabbed two potholders before pulling the tray of piping hot muffins from one of the ovens and placing them on top of the cooktop. A wire rack stood nearby as the staging ground for the purple-stained confections.

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