The Season of Silver Linings by Christine Nolfi

Author:Christine Nolfi [Nolfi, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503903395
Publisher: Lake Union
Published: 2018-07-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

In the dream, Millicent waited on the golden sands of Sweet Lake.

Tiny needlelike leaves pierced her feet. The pungent fragrance reached her nose—rosemary. She bent down to inspect the herb mixed in with the sand when a roar of wind reached her ears. A tornado cut a swath across the beach, wiping the clouds from the sky.

She stood calmly, as if the angry tower of air posed no danger to her—or to Penelope Riddle, standing twenty paces off in the surf. Penelope called out as she pointed at the churning waters of the lake. The tornado followed the same path, whipping across the lake with howling fury.

The scream of high winds jolted her from sleep. Swinging her feet to the floor, Millicent gulped down air. The oak floorboards were cold; a serene quiet enveloped the room. Through the window, the first threads of daylight fingered the treetops.

Twenty minutes later, she was dressed and glad to reach the inn’s lobby. This early in the morning there wasn’t a soul in sight, with the exception of the pretty brunette clacking on the keyboard behind the front desk. Outside, the first blush of dawn spread across the grounds.

Unable to calm herself, Millicent swallowed down the bitterness in her throat. A nightmare? Night terrors were the provenance of children. They weren’t meant for an old woman with too much time on her hands, who’d spent too many days eating homemade puddings and cakes in the Wayfair’s kitchen. Forbidding tornadoes notwithstanding, she ought to dream about her next physical—that was scary. Dr. Healy would read her the riot act for gaining more weight.

With a nod to the girl behind the front desk, Millicent strode toward the veranda. A healthy dose of fresh air would shake the dream from her blood.

Rosy light crept across the rocking chairs and wicker seating arrangements. Millicent’s attention drifted to the charcoal shadows draping the veranda’s farther reaches.

Glad for the seclusion, she chose a rocking chair deep in the shadows. Rocking slowly, she tried to sort herself out.

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