Shadows on the Ivy Read Online Free

these suburban streets would have been filled with children dressed as ghosts and witches and Superman and Harry Potter. How did parents come up with those costumes? Maggie had never even mastered the hemstitch in eighth-grade home economics.
    She concentrated on her driving and tried not to think about the work waiting for her at home. Holding down two jobs was often exhausting, much as she enjoyed them both. Teaching American Studies took up her time during weekdays and even some weekends, such as when she had to go to a “must be there” reception. Like today. And when she wasn’t at school or preparing for classes, she had to mat engravings or sort inventory items. She called her business Shadows because prints were a reflection of life the way it used to be, a view into the past. The income from Shadows, Maggie hoped, would help frame her future.
    Her life had changed in so many ways during the past year. Now a widow for ten months, she’d decided to continue both her academic and antique-print careers, and, if possible, to increase the antiques side of her life to try to compensate for the loss of Michael’s income. The truth was, she missed his monetary contribution to their marriage more than she missed him. His presence in their marriage had been questionable before the car accident that ended it completely.
    She was handling everything well—perhaps too well, her friend Gussie sometimes said. Michael’s death and the estate issues; the knowledge of his betrayal; getting back into teaching and antiques; even finding a new potential romantic interest.
    Maggie smiled softly to herself as she thought of Will Brewer’s strength and patience and kindness. The feel of his arms around her.
    Will’s own antique business kept him on the road most of the time, and his home base was Buffalo, New York, not Somerset County, New Jersey. They’d met at an antique show last Memorial Day weekend. That had been just five months ago, but they’d been closely in touch, or together, since then. His caring filled an empty space in her life. His daily e-mails kept her checking her computer on days when she needed to lean on an emotional shoulder. “I wouldn’t have time for a man in my life, full-time,” she told herself. There was too much she needed to do first. Will’s long-distance caring worked for now and allowed her to maintain her crowded schedule. Unromantic? Maybe. But true.
    Or was she finding excuses not to have a man in her life on a regular basis? Michael had frequently traveled on business; there were often weeks when he’d arrived home on Friday after she’d left town to do a weekend antique show. Was she repeating a pattern? Was it simpler to live her life without a man in it?
    Maggie shook her head. Her world was the way she needed it to be. Except for those long nights when e-mail messages couldn’t take the place of a man to share her bed and to remind her she had a body as well as a mind. Except for those days when she wondered whether Will was really the right person for her after all.
    At thirty-eight, Maggie knew her options in some areas of life were limited, and she had almost decided she wanted to be a mother. No. She knew she wanted to be a mother. She just didn’t know whether she was brave enough to become a single mother like the women at Whitcomb House. Will had made it clear he wasn’t father material. And she wasn’t so old that she didn’t fantasize about having a husband before she had a child.
    Maggie groaned inwardly and shelved her personal issues as she approached the hospital. Tonight she must think about Sarah, not about her own issues.
    “Sarah Anderson.” The young blonde woman at the front desk looked bored and annoyed as Maggie asked again. “I’m here to find out about Sarah Anderson. She was just brought in by ambulance.”
    Five or six people sat in the pale green waiting room filled with orange plastic furniture. Maggie could hear voices and machines beeping behind