Free The Double Cross by Clare O'Donohue Page A

Eleanor was no longer even trying to hide her annoyance.
    “I may not know anything about quilting, but I know how to shop,” Rita said, a slight snap in her voice. “And obviously the younger generation of quilter agrees with me.”
    “I’m not an expert,” I pointed out.
    “But you’re open to new things, and that’s what this shop will be all about. The latest and coolest things in quilting. I don’t want any old, stuffy shop.” She glanced toward Eleanor, who rolled her eyes at the snub. “I want something cutting-edge.”
    “In the Adirondacks?” It came out of my mouth without thinking. I could see that it hurt Rita, but Eleanor was smiling ear to ear.

CHAPTER 11
    The Adirondacks is a national forest and a popular destination for hiking and boating in the summer, skiing in the winter. With the southern tip only four hours north of New York City, and the top just to the south of Canada, it’s large enough to sustain enormous tourist trade while still leaving some towns untouched.
    Winston was one of those untouched towns. Or maybe forgotten would be a better word. It wasn’t near the places likely to draw large numbers of visitors, like Lake Placid or Lake George. And it wasn’t near the major highways, where anyone on their way to somewhere else, like Montreal, would be likely to stop for a quick look around.
    Though quilters are an adventurous bunch, going on organized cruises to Alaska or on tours of China, I doubted many would venture to the Patchwork Bed-and-Breakfast or its quilt shop. The whole thing seemed like a waste of time. Eleanor, who lived to pass on her love of quilting, clearly felt drained. Susanne was teaching a ragtag bunch of conscripted students. Bernie was reliving a painful chapter from her past. And while I was stuck up here, Jesse was in Archers Rest, dating redheads.
    “Let it go,” I said out loud, once I’d walked outside and into the woods. “Focus on the beauty around you.”
    I looked around. The trees were pretty. The sky was darkening, but the air was fresh and there was a lot to explore. Barney and I headed toward a hiking trail that led from the main road into a patch of forest. It was an isolated area, with sparse foliage and a few fallen and rotting trees. There was something haunting and, I had to admit, beautiful about the place—once you got away from the inn.
    I sat on a rock and took out my small sketch pad. Susanne was right. Keeping a small drawing pad and pencil with you at all times led to the most interesting discoveries. I tried to remember Oliver’s advice about getting out of my own way and seeing beyond the ordinary. While Barney sniffed at a patch of earth nearby, I sketched a pile of branches that had fallen a few feet away. I was feeling peaceful for the first time since arriving at the retreat, and even when drops of rain began hitting my head, I didn’t want to leave.
    “What are you doing there?”
    I jumped up and spun around, startled by the sudden presence of another person, but I relaxed when I saw that it was only Pete walking toward me.
    “Is class out already?” I asked.
    “Lunch.” He patted Barney on the head. “I thought I’d head home for a bit rather than eat with that crowd.” He turned a little red. “I mean, Susanne is nice, and the class is actually quite enjoyable, but the other students . . .”
    “You don’t have to explain. But I would have thought you knew the others from town.”
    “I know Helen and Fred. Don’t know the twins. Don’t want to know the twins.” Pete picked up a branch, showed it to Barney, and then threw it down the road. Rather than chase it, Barney looked at me, then went back to sniffing the earth.
    “Hey, guy,” Pete called to Barney. “Go chase the stick.”
    “He gets a little confused sometimes,” I explained. “And he’s nearly deaf.”
    “That’s all right. He’s loyal, looks like, and that’s all you need in a dog. Though around here he could step into a mess pretty