The Yarn That Binds (Clear Creek Mysteries Book 1) by Rebecca McKinnon

Author:Rebecca McKinnon [McKinnon, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-13T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

I stepped outside and took a deep breath. Hopefully the crisp morning air would do more than the two cups of excellent coffee had at firing up my brain.

The old house had more creaks not only than I remembered, but more than I could have thought possible. I'd spent a few hours jolting up in bed every time I heard something before giving up and working on my knitting.

Now I had an almost finished, somewhat lopsided hat in sumptuous green Malabrigo alpaca merino yarn, as well as a headache from lack of sleep. I'd have to choose another project as soon as my bleary eyes cleared.

I glanced up the road to the hiking path and decided not to risk being somewhere isolated. I'd walk around town instead. It wouldn't be as peaceful, but it would definitely feel safer.

Neighbors greeted me as I walked, some stopping to talk and others merely calling out or waving. It seemed everyone wanted to escape the confines of their homes for a while before opening the shops.

As I rounded the corner of the brewery after visiting with Kitty, I saw someone heading into the parking lot. I recognized the back of the jacket — and the long stride of the man wearing it.

I bypassed talking with the woman who ran The Looking Glass and headed after Brandon. If I hurried, maybe I could catch him.

I was on the road between the town and the cars when I saw a beat up truck pulling out. A dent in the tailgate taunted me for being too late as Brandon turned the black pickup onto the road.

A weight settled on me. I didn't like the way we'd left things — okay, the way I'd left things. Brandon would have addressed the ridiculous misunderstanding right then if I hadn't been stupid enough to want space to think about it. A phone call or text was an option, but he deserved an in-person apology.

I turned back. Waving at Max as I passed him on his way to his normal spot, I kept an eye out for high fashion. I wanted to talk to Charlotte before we were busy helping customers with yarn selections and answering knitting questions.

Not that Charlotte knew how to knit. She couldn't help anyone find a dropped stitch or fix a purl in a row of knits — not that I was great at it yet, either — but she was good at distracting them with stories of how some famous designer or other had fixed a problem at a fashion show or photo shoot she'd modeled for while I looked up a video to help the customer fix their problem.

Just as I got to the place where the main paths intersected, a hand grasped my arm and hot breath hit my neck as someone spoke into my ear from behind me. “Have you considered what I said?”

A trickle of ice slid down my spine as I recognized Stirling's voice. I started to turn.

His fingers dug deeper into my arm.

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