Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series) Read Online Free Page B

wheat bread were set before me. I asked if she would join me, but Mrs. Douglas shook her head.
    “I’ve already eaten. Mr. Douglas and I had this for our lunch. I stowed some away so there’d be enough for your supper.”
    I grinned, dipped a corner of the bread into the thick gravy and ate like I’d not eaten in days. It felt that way, even though I’d had a snack on the plane. Food is comforting, in life and in mourning, and I knew I’d feel better once I’d eaten. Mrs. Douglas spoke of the days when I’d visited Gran. She went on about Gran’s love of Dragon Hill and that her one wish was that I would take over the estate upon her death.
    Surprised to hear that she knew of Gran’s wishes, I put the spoon down, sat back in the chair and asked, “She really said that?”
    “She did. I would never lie about a thing like that. Essie was determined to keep Dragon Hill intact. She knew your father was a wanderer who’d never been happy to stay put for long. He wanted to know, and see, what lay on the other side of the hill, the world, even.” She shook her head. “And then there’s Charles. Essie figured he’d cash in on Dragon Hill as fast as he could. She made sure he couldn’t do that, Linty.” With a slight harrumph, Mrs. Douglas finished drying the stew container.
    “How’s that?”
    “She made a new will on her deathbed that gives you everything, of course.” Mrs. Douglas lifted the teapot, refilled my cup, and set the cozy over the pot when she’d returned it to the thick knit warming pad. She fumbled in her pocket and withdrew a folded envelope that she slid across the table to me.
    A bulging, cream colored, vellum envelope sat next to my bowl. It had my name scrawled in Gran’s handwriting on the front. I touched the paper, ran my fingertips over the smoothness of it, and was reluctant to open it lest it contain words that would reduce me to a tearful idiot. I hadn’t had much time for that sort of thing and wasn’t about to fall apart in front of anyone again, as I had with Mr. Smythe.
    Slipping her coat on, Mrs. Douglas said, “Go ahead, take it, you can read it later. If you have any questions, give me a call.”
    I slid the envelope into my sweatpants pocket and finished the bowl of stew before it grew cold. As Mrs. Douglas placed the bowl and silverware in the sink, she said, “If you want me to keep house for you, just let me know.”
    “Please, consider the job yours. It’ll take a few days for me to acclimate, but I’d like you to stay on,” I assured her. No way could I manage the house and grounds alone. “Do you know who’s been keeping the grounds? They’re in terrible shape.”
    “Essie let them go to wrack and ruin. She’d become a tad paranoid these last months and wouldn’t allow the lawns and flowerbeds to be cared for. She thought the less people who came here, the better. I have no idea what prompted that mindset, and she never said. Maybe it’s in the letter.” Mrs. Douglas dipped her head and then left with a promise to return with groceries in the morning.

Chapter 3
    A cool breeze ruffled my hair as I left the house. I gathered my jacket close and ambled along the path and across the yard. It had stopped raining, and while I didn’t look forward to getting caught in an unexpected downpour, I needed fresh air. Evening had cast shadows that lurked in places I hesitated to explore. In making the rounds of Gran’s property, I’d slipped in the mud, slid on wet grass, and landed hard when I lost my balance.
    Annoyed at my clumsiness, I grumbled over it and stood up, wiping my hands on my sweatpants. A slight movement caught my eye and I turned to the left. Nothing was visible, other than the sway of branches in the breeze. I listened for the thud of feet, a word spoken, or the rustle of overgrown garden debris. Still nothing. I shrugged and trudged on into the family cemetery in the small valley past a thick grove of fir trees behind the house.
    Headstones