Rekindled by Barbara Delinsky

Author:Barbara Delinsky [Delinsky, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780060847548
Publisher: Avon Trade
Published: 1993-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Lilac Awakening

In memory of my father, who gave me an eye for detail.

Nightfall was nature’s last resort in a bid to blot out her own splendor. For much of the afternoon across the upper Vermont countryside, ominous dark clouds had hung over the forested peaks, swarming, breaking, and regrouping in a macabre arabesque. Rather than stifling beauty, they enhanced it with a muted gray softness, sifted over the deep greens of the hillside. The power of the land was an awesome one, embodied in the proud posture of the pines on the hill, the free flow of the river winding through the valley, the gaiety of the orange Indian paintbrush swaying with meadow grass in the breeze. Darkness was only a thin veil over this primal beauty. Seeing through it, Anne Boulton felt blessed, and doubly grateful that she had left the city.

The summer had been an oppressive one in New York. Heat and humidity had rivaled each other, stubbornly clinging to highs that beaded foreheads and furniture with sweat, and made everyone and everything sticky. As the sky scrapered congestion closed in on her, so had wellintending friends and family, coaxing her out to lunch, when she wanted a tall cola and a salad at home, dragging her to the theater, when she craved a quiet evening alone, spiriting her away for a weekend of busy companionship, when she fancied a good book and healing solitude. In the end she wanted Jeff, but Jeff was gone.

Now, cocooned by darkness, she curled in a large upholstered chair. The wood fire in the hearth offered the only light, its orange and gold flames flickering hypnotically before her dark eyes. This was her first evening here. If the isolation, the peace were a harbinger, she had made the right decision in renting the house for the week. Time was precious, but it abounded here. She planned to read, to take walks, even to work. Mostly, though, she planned to think.

Late September in Vermont was the perfect time for soulsearching. With promises of misty mornings and golden afternoons, newly ripening apples and sweet corn, deer and squirrels and crisp mountain air, it was a perfect antidote for her malaise. The small house on its high perch was everything the rental agent had promised. No matter that her small car had nearly come apart jolting over bumps and ruts in the steadily climbing dirt road, the house was charming. It sat peacefully in the arms of giant maples and towering firs, its brown weathered shingles and silver slate roof blending with the earthen road and the gray of the sky. Low shrubbery, aged a fall green, bordered the house. Taller lilac bushes, their fragrant blossoms long gone but imagined, straddled the ebony front door.

Inside, the cottage was as compact as its surroundings were generous, with an open-hearthed living room at the front, a kitchen, bedroom, and bath at the rear. A narrow stairway on the far side led to a dormered attic. Decorated functionally

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