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

workshop.”
    Small talk, huh? Of course, there was more to the call today than keeping in touch. Jonna wasn’t a colleague who liked to “keep in touch.” Jonna was still probably blistering with anger over the last job she’d lost out to Kelly.
    “So what are you up to this far south? Your studio hours away.”
    Be wise as a serpent . . . the phrase from the Bible came to her mind. “I’m checking out a prospect. I’m only in town for a few days.” She wanted to add, You’re safe from me , but thought better of it.
    “I see. Well, do everyone a favor and don’t undercut the bid. Cheapest isn’t the best in our industry, but I suspect you know that.” The words nipped at her across the airwaves.
    “Of course, cheapest isn’t the best. Look, I hope you enjoy that new contract of yours. I really need to go.”
    “Bye, Kelly.” The phone went silent.
    Kelly allowed herself a sigh. Textile conservators were a unique lot. There were the divas, the self-appointed authorities like Jonna Spivey who saw themselves as the queen bees of a small hive. Then there were the free spirits, like Kelly. They worked alone or in small groups, employing interns and graduate student volunteers, to help shepherd the next generation of conservators. Both had the same goal but had very different ways of reaching it.
    Who was she kidding? Free spirit. Lone wolf was probably more accurate. If she got this job, she’d be paid handsomely for her work. Twenty grand would help a lot. But she’d have to do this one alone.
    She quit ruminating and rose from the desk chair and went to the window. Instead of checking for new e-mail every five minutes, she ought to take a walk by the harbor. The ocean breeze and call of the gulls used to soothe her as a child. She’d been so busy lately that she hadn’t taken time at the waterfront. The Lord knew what He was doing by creating so much ocean. Probably He knew the world would need a lot of soothing.
    Kelly was in her car and heading for the historic district and the harbor front before she reasoned herself out of it. Yes, maybe the free-spirit tag fit. She had no one to claim her time, no one to answer to except God above. She should be thankful.
    She angled her car into an empty parking spot and watched as another car passed on the cobblestoned street. Nice, how New Bedford maintained the charm in its historic district. The city had a lot of history, though she had her rough edges. Kelly chuckled to herself and kicked a wayward shell on the pier. So did Haverhill, so did most cities with their mixture of good and evil.
    Her phone buzzed. She almost jumped and dropped the phone. But it wasn’t a call. Instead, a calendar reminder set for twelve noon, May 5. Lottie’s birthday. Lottie was turning sixty today, Lottie who had given Kelly her first sewing machine when she was twelve and allowed her to sequester herself in the junk room of the five-bedroom house that brimmed with foster children. She owed Lottie so much more than sharing a slice of birthday cake with the sweet woman. A phone call wasn’t nearly enough.
    The breeze cut through her jacket, so she made her way up a couple of blocks from the harbor. A few shops lined the street. A carved wooden sign swung above one storefront, Soup Nation. Someone opened the door, and a swirl of scents drifted onto the sidewalk.
    Kelly’s stomach growled. She’d skipped breakfast while making the final touches on her bid that morning. She entered and inhaled the mouthwatering aroma. Someone had just pulled a loaf of bread from the oven, too.
    She ordered half a grilled cheese panini and a bowl of the fresh tomato soup, then slid into an empty booth. The tiny restaurant enveloped her with its warmth as she sipped her soup and enjoyed the tang of the cheese sandwich. Lottie would greet her with a grilled cheese sandwich after school, once she and the posse of kids walked from the school bus.
    Kelly lifted her soup as if in a silent toast, then set