Love Conquers All (Cutter's Creek Book 14) by Boone Annie & Creek Cutter's

Author:Boone, Annie & Creek, Cutter's [Boone, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-12-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

He was numb. Empty. Lonely. Max sat in the parlor of the home that now belonged to him. He held a steaming cup of tea to his lips, the mist from the rain still dampening his face.

He still couldn’t believe Paul Hightower was gone. But he was, and now once again Max was an orphan. He set the teacup on the table next to him, slouched on the settee, propping his muddy black boots on the table. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes.

Miss Markson had left to inform the doctor of Mr. Hightower’s death and the butler had promised to see to the burial details. Everyone else was taking care of the chores required and there was nothing for him to do. Nothing but sit and wallow in his own misery.

A knock sounded on his door. He flinched, and raised his head. He heard footsteps hurrying to answer it. He figured the doctor arrived or maybe visitors to pay their condolences. Neither were people he wanted to see.

Muffled voices reached him, and he couldn’t make out the words. The door closed and the maid appeared in the doorway to the parlor. She walked in wearing a full-length black dress and white apron. Her light blonde hair was pushed back and tied at the nape of her neck. She gave a small curtsey and held out the letter to him.

“The post boy said he’s sorry it’s late. It got misplaced at the telegraph office.”

Max reached for it and lay it on his lap as the maid departed. He couldn’t imagine what this telegram could be about. Probably some business deal that could wait. He reached for his tea and took a sip, letting the lukewarm drink flow down his throat. A tea meant to soothe his nerves as Miss Markson said tasted like river water.

He set the cup back down and knocked the letter off his lap. How could he think of business when his mentor had just died? It was probably news about the cookbook. Not one part of him wanted to deal with it. He’d rather close his eyes and escape into another world. He reached for a pillow and set it at the end of the sofa. He went to lay down when a word of the telegram caught his attention. Garrett.

He almost fell to the floor as he yanked the paper off the wool Persian rug. He ripped it open with dread and anxiety. He jumped to his feet as his gaze ran over the words.

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