Shear Misfortune (Melanie Hogan Mysteries Book 7) by Rhonda Blackhurst

Author:Rhonda Blackhurst [Blackhurst, Rhonda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-10T23:00:00+00:00

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I woke early and lay in bed for a minute, enjoying the quiet, the stillness, and the warmth of my bed. I lay looking through the skylight. The moonlight revealed clouds gathering in the sky. A late spring snowstorm was in the forecast for tonight, and it looked like we just might get it. It would be a good night to be tucked in my house, snowed in with Levi. Or maybe it would be a good night to have Daisy spend the night. We could have some girl time, just the two of us.

I lay there pondering the possibilities, grateful I’d decided not to hit the gym anymore. Not to mention the evenings when Claire and I had met there after work. I could reclaim my mornings for having coffee on the deck overlooking the lake. I longed for summer to sit out there in my Adirondack chair, my feet propped up on the black wrought iron railing, admiring the water’s surface, smooth as glass. And the orange sailboat that lazily drifted by every summer morning. I missed the birds singing and the squirrels playing. Until the weather was warm enough to do that, having the extra time at home let me sit in my reading chair with coffee and my devotional, followed by reading the St. Cloud Times on my iPad.

Yes, I’d made the right decision. I would start looking for a treadmill and an elliptical today to put in my basement. I could set them up in front of the large picture window and look at the lake while I’m exercising. Since it wasn’t a New Year’s resolution, I might stand a chance of succeeding and not sell the equipment in a yard sale in six months which, more often than not, was the norm for people who purchased equipment. I mused at all of the yard sales I’d seen over the years with treadmills, ellipticals, rowers, you name it, that looked brand new. Between all of it, however, the thought of bodies kept interrupting. I couldn’t get away from them anywhere.

After one last stretch, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, stood, and slipped into my robe. All was quiet downstairs. Jack wouldn’t be awake for at least another hour. I whipped my hair into a ponytail and padded downstairs, opening the blinds along the stairs as I went. The sky was beginning to lighten ever so slightly, lending a grayish cast in the air. I wasn’t a fan of spring storms from fear of breaking branches on trees that leafed early and smashing my already-struggling tulips and daffodils along the front of the house.

I’d forgotten to program my coffee maker last night. After I got it up and going, the machine gurgling and choking to life—sounds letting me know I needed a new one immediately—I picked up my iPad from the kitchen table and hunkered down in my chair. I tucked my legs underneath me and covered up with a gray sherpa throw blanket, cutting the damp morning chill.

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