Confessions from the Quilting Circle by Maisey Yates (ebook reader color screen txt) 📕

right now. And she was going to have to tell them that their dad was going to court. That they were going to have to tell a judge what they had seen and what they hadn’t.

But she was sitting here, at this unfamiliar kitchen table, eating food that she’d chosen, and her kids were there. Her sisters were there.

So maybe she couldn’t see into the future. But she could see this. And she felt... Safer than she had in a long time. Happy might be a stretch. But she did feel like maybe... Just maybe things would be okay. And as assurance went, she would take it.

Later that night she went upstairs and took out Anabeth’s diary. Because she found courage in those little passages written by that woman so long ago. Courage in her strength to start over.

And for some reason, that connection with the past brought her a greater connection with the present than just about anything else.

24

The girls and I had a falling out because I got the part and Elsie didn’t. Sam says I can stay with him. It’ll be easier anyway. I’m sick of their complaining. They act like children. You can’t be a child here.

Ava Moore’s diary, 1924

Hannah

Hannah had been out buying groceries, which felt like a novelty experience. But now that Avery and her kids were living here, she did feel like maybe it would be best if there was actual food in the house. And it kind of felt nice to do a favor for her sister. She didn’t go grocery shopping. Sometimes, she got groceries delivered to her house, but mostly she just brought takeout home. She was busy.

Cooking and buying food didn’t really have a place in that. But she felt cheerful as she walked through the door of The Dowell House, and then a little bit confused when she saw that it was empty. It was evening, and she had expected everyone to be there. The Craft Café would be closed and Avery should have gotten the kids from school. She was used to walking into empty houses. She lived alone. And she liked it. And being in close proximity with the amount of people she had been with for the past few weeks really should make her feel claustrophobic. But instead, the lack of them felt strange.

She had felt separate from her family for a long time, but these past weeks, and their wine soaked shouting match had made her feel...

Part of them.

She liked it.

She walked through the living room, and stared through the kitchen to the back door that led out to the yard. And she saw lights. Curious, she moved forward. Rope lights. Strung from the rafters of the house, to a pole at the center of the yard. And underneath that was a table. Set for dinner.

Dinner for two, though. Definitely not for all the people that lived in this house.

Her heart thundering, she went outside, and she saw Josh. Dressed in dark jeans and a black T-shirt, which she had a feeling was dressed up for him.

She spent a lot of time around men in suits. Very nice suits. Well tailored suits.

Nothing beat Josh Anderson in dark jeans and a T-shirt, when it was especially for her.

“I made dinner,” he said.

“Did you also tie my family up and stash them in the basement?”

“No. They took a generous gift card and went out to dinner.”

She looked around. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said.

She was stunned for a moment. Absolutely stunned. Because they had been sleeping together, certainly. And the way things were between them, it wasn’t like she could pretend it was casual. No, the need between them was far too sharp for that.

She also couldn’t stop being with him, so she was willing to deal with the emotional ups and downs she felt every time they shared a bed.

But this was like dating.

No, this was like something she hadn’t experienced in... Ever.

Because she just didn’t. Men didn’t do things like this for her.

You never stay with them long enough to give them the chance.

“Thank you,” she said, cautiously. “But I’m not sure I understand.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” he said. “There’s no catch.”

“There’s always a catch, Josh, or have you not heard the one about the free lunch?”

“This is a free dinner. And since I’m the person that made it I think I’m the one that gets to decide whether or not it’s free, don’t you?”

She tilted her head and looked at him from the corner of her eye. “I don’t even have to put out?”

“No,” he said. “Anyway. You put out for nothing, Hannah, so, I don’t know why you would think I made you lasagna to get you have sex with me.”

“I think mostly because I’m not sure what you want.”

He looked at her, and something in her melted. Outright melted. And she felt... Like she was in more danger than she had ever been in before.

“I just want your time. That’s it. Do you think you can give me that? For a little bit?”

She nodded, mute. He pulled the chair out, and she sat down at the table, where there was lasagna and salad.

“Did you really cook this?”

“Yes. Basic survival skill.”

“One I don’t even have.”

“What do you do?”

“There are many apps that allow you to push buttons and have food magically appear at your front door.”

“Not here.”

“Yeah. One of the many reasons that I find this place to be a hellscape.” But she looked up, at the string of lights, and the rosy gold sky, at the green trees and the tips of the mountains that she could see beyond the yard. At the man across from her. And she had a very hard time applying the word hellscape to any of that.

“I think it’s pretty beautiful.” His eyes were on her, and her heart squeezed. “I did think about leaving,” he said. “You know, for a while there. But then Dad died, and that left ranchland to run. And