Tempest's Course: Quilts of Love Series Read Online Free

as he nudged his brother. “That’s a long road of education.”
    “We’ll be ready as we can be.” Nick smiled across the table at Hunter.
    “What did you want to be when you grew up, Uncle Tom?”
    The question hung in the air.
    “I wanted to be a soldier.” He took another bite before he was expected to say more.
    “But you’re not a soldier no more.” Hailey’s voice rang out.
    “No, not anymore.” Reality bit into him once again, in front of the ones who should buoy him up the most. “Hey, Ma, is there fresh coffee in the kitchen?”
    “Sure, Tommy. I can get it for you.” She shifted on her chair.
    “No, I’ll get it. Thanks, Ma.” He left the table and pushed through the swinging door that separated the dining room from the kitchen.
    Of course, his father’s unspoken disapproval rang out. No, his crash and burn in the armed forces wasn’t his fault. A myriad of things that could go wrong, did. Sort of like the sinking of the Titanic .
    “Go to college,” he’d been told after his medical discharge. The thought of being in a classroom with kids ten years younger than him, the self-absorbed generation that they were, grated on his nerves.
    He poured a cup of coffee and inhaled the aroma. Nothing beat a good strong cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee. The fluorescent light over the kitchen sink buzzed, the sound covered up by more laughter from the dining room.
    The door creaked open behind him. “Ah, Tommy . . .”
    He turned around. “Ma.”
    “It seems like you and Nick were right around Hunter and Hailey’s age, and now look at you.” She carried a stack of plates to the counter.
    “Here, I’ll take care of these.” Tommy turned on the faucet and took the plates from his mother.
    “But thirty-one . . . you’re still so young . . .” His mother pulled open the dishwasher door. “Your father . . . he’s old school. He doesn’t understand there are many ways to get where you want to be.”
    That was precisely the problem. He didn’t know where he wanted to be.

    The old man’s chest rose and fell as a tube supplied life-sustaining oxygen to the figure lying on the bed. Earlier that day, the visiting physician had recommended that hospice come in and evaluate the old man for comfort measures.
    “Do whatever you think is best to keep him comfortable,” he had said to the doctor. The old man protested, just once.
    “Is she there, at the house?” the old man asked.
    “She was. We’re expecting her bid at any time,” he replied. “If you’re sure she’s the one . . .”
    “She is.” The two words held a bite that made him glance at the old man. “She is.”
    “Say what you will, but my responsibility is to protect your interests.” His own words surprised him.
    “My interests are not long for this earth.” The old man’s voice resumed its normal placid tone.
    “You’ve said that for years.”
    “I’ve had to. My interests are all I have left.”

3
    K elly clicked the send button on the e-mail and shot the bid for the quilt project into cyberspace. Either she would score the biggest job of her shaky career or she’d just committed career suicide. In her written report, she was honest about the damage to the quilt and what would be necessary to keep it from disintegrating further. She determined not to sell herself short, either, so as not to be accused of underbidding.
    Her cell phone warbled. She glanced at the number and tried not to roll her eyes. Jonna Spivey, her rival, her nemesis. What now? “Jonna, hello.”
    “Kelly. I heard you’re at the south shore right now.” Her voice sounded silken, smooth as cream. “I’m in Newport, Rhode Island.”
    “Ah, right down the road. You’re working on a job, I take it.”
    “Yes. Just landed a job that’ll keep me and my staff occupied through next year. A tapestry collection. You should see the faded threads and the polyester someone used to patch the wool. We’re scheduling transport of the first item to the