Threads of Love Read online

  INTRODUCTION

  Patterns of Love by Frances Devine

  Dragged away from the scene of her magical childhood—including a promising career as an ice skater—and raised in poverty, Carla Daniels is delighted to return to Colorado Springs. But the man who loves her back home fears she may never return. How can he convince her that what they have is magic, too?

  Unraveling Love by Cynthia Hickey

  Zoe Barnes left Colorado Springs the day after high school graduation, dumping her sweetheart without so much as a phone call on her way out of town. So it’s poetic justice that he happens to rescue her when her car breaks down on her way back. Can two wary, wounded souls survive a road trip to Colorado Springs?

  Stitched in Love by Winter A. Peck

  Pro volleyball player Danni Lindsay runs into her old love in the airport, a man from whom she’d parted when their careers diverged—hers to the beach and his to the Army. Now neither knows the other’s career is soon to change. Will pride and an independent streak keep their hearts from changing?

  Designed to Love by Marilyn Leach

  Career gal Eve Kirkwood looks forward to a much-needed vacation in Colorado Springs to work on her grandmother’s quilt, but her stay in a luxury hotel is ruined when her quilt squares are stolen. The hotel detective says he’s on the case, but he’s not moving fast enough for Eve. Could it be that he intends to steal her heart?

  Patterns of Love © 2013 by Frances Devine

  Unraveling Love © 2013 by Cynthia Hickey

  Stitched in Love © 2013 by Winter A. Peck

  Designed to Love © 2013 by Marilyn Leach

  Print ISBN 978-1-61626-749-0

  eBook Editions:

  Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-62416-012-7

  Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-62416-011-0

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.

  Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: Kirk DouPonce, DogEared Design

  Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Patterns of Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Unraveling Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About the Author

  Stitched in Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Designed to Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  About the Author

  Patterns of Love

  by Frances Devine

  Dedication

  To all my friends at the Michelle Kwan Forem. Thanks for all the great fun through the years. To all the skaters of the world. And to the most graceful, talented skater who ever put on a pair of skates, Michelle Wing Kwan, thank you for the wonderful adventure.

  Commit your works to the Lord and your plans shall be established.

  PROVERBS 16:3

  Chapter 1

  Anticipation nibbled at Carla Daniels and threatened to explode into full-throttled, unbridled excitement. Rapid breathing accompanied each swish of the bleach-soaked dishcloth across the shiny, red vinyl table.

  “Carla, are you trying to rub a hole in that table?” Todd Berry’s voice sounded friendly, but a hint of something not so genial underlay his tone.

  Carla straightened, tossing her thick blond braid back over her shoulder where it belonged and glanced at her friend and employer. Todd stood at the register filling a large bank bag with the day’s proceeds. She threw him an apologetic grin before moving on to the next booth in her station.

  She was going home. Would it feel like home? It had been twelve years since her parents had packed their belongings into a U-Haul trailer and changed their lives forever. This was the time of year when Carla grew a little homesick. The air would be crisp in Colorado Springs and the trees ablaze with color. If her memory served her right, snowfall was usual in October, so maybe she’d see some white stuff earlier than here in Cedar Hill, Kansas.

  Ten minutes later, the chrome and vinyl booths gleamed with sanitized cleanliness. Carla nodded as she compared them to Hannah’s pristine station. The older woman had trained her, and although Carla didn’t intend to work as a server in the diner forever, she still took pride in doing her job well. Grabbing the pail of bleach water, she headed across the silent diner to the kitchen.

  When she stepped back into the dining room, Todd was sitting at a corner booth, two cups of steaming coffee in front of him.

  “We need to talk before you leave.” A glossy black curl fell over his forehead as he nodded toward the seat across from him.

  Resisting the urge to smooth his hair back into place, Carla tossed her purse on the table and slid onto the seat. “I know this is a bad time for me to be taking off work.”

  “No, no.” He waved his hands. “That’s all right. Hannah has a couple of friends eager to earn some Christmas money. They’ll come in to help. And after all, except for your grandmother’s funeral last year, you’ve never asked for time off before.” But the tapping of the spoon against his cup indicated something was bothering him.

  “So you’re okay with me leaving?”

  He turned his gaze on her and pain flashed in his azure eyes. The next instant it was gone. Maybe she’d imagined it.

  “You are coming back, right?”

  “Of course. I’ll only be gone for three weeks.” She’d already told him that. A twinge of guilt nagged her conscience. She didn’t really need three weeks to fulfill Grams’s request to complete her memory quilt. In fact, the reservation in the magnificent Broadmoor Hotel didn’t even begin until the end of the second week of her vacation. She flicked the annoying thought aside. She needed the extra couple of weeks for herself. She had some past to come to terms with and maybe some ghosts that needed to be laid to rest.

  Todd nodded and raised the tan vintage coffee cup
to his lips.

  “Why would you think I might not come back?”

  He shrugged. “Isn’t Colorado Springs where you trained to be a figure skater?”

  “Yes. Years ago.” She sighed. “I had big dreams in those days.”

  “You still have big dreams, Carla.”

  She nodded and gave him a sideways grin. “But when I was fourteen, I dreamed of skating for gold in the Olympics.”

  “Whatever happened to that guy you skated with?” He ran his finger around the rim of his cup.

  “Leland Swann? He got another partner. They made it to Nationals last year.”

  She’d wondered from time to time just how far she and Lee could have gone in their career if Mom and Dad hadn’t dragged her across the country so suddenly. Another of Dad’s wonderful job opportunities that didn’t last.

  “I should get home and pack, Todd, then get some sleep. I have an eight-hour drive ahead of me in the morning.”

  He nodded and rose. “I hope everything works out well for you. Maybe the inheritance will make you rich. You might not need to work at a crummy diner after this.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t think my inheritance will make me rich, considering it’s divided four ways, although it should still be a pretty nice chunk, I guess.” She waggled her finger at him. “And don’t call the Berry Patch a crummy diner. I think it’s one of the coolest spots in Cedar Hill.”

  She stood and faced him, looking up into his gorgeous face. “Wish me a safe journey.”

  Todd’s lips curved in a smile, and he reached over and tipped her chin up. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll pray for you.”

  “Good idea. Take care of yourself while I’m gone.” She stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek, but he pulled her to him, and his lips pressed against hers.

  The kiss lasted only a moment, but warmth surged through her, and suddenly she wasn’t so sure about leaving, even for three weeks.

  Jerking herself back to reality, she said a hasty good-bye and made her escape. But the memory of Todd’s lips on hers stayed with her as she drove to her apartment, even while she gave herself a pep talk. They were just friends. Sure, they’d dated a few times, but only friendly dates. She raised her fingers to her lips, still tingling from his kiss.

  Thirty minutes later, she stood in front of her closet, staring helplessly at the row of slacks, sweaters, jeans, and skirts. Should she call one of her cousins to find out the proper dress for the swanky Broadmoor Hotel? She bit her bottom lip. Nope. It was bad enough being the youngest of the four. And the least successful. She wouldn’t announce she was probably also the poorest. She’d promised God she wouldn’t give in to feelings of inferiority anymore.

  She walked into the living room and retrieved the attorney’s letter from her handbag, skimming it once more, although she practically knew the contents by heart.

  Grams had left instructions in her will for her four granddaughters to get together at the Broadmoor Hotel in their hometown of Colorado Springs. They were to bring the quilt squares she’d left them, create their own squares, and put them together to make a memory quilt. If they complied, they would then receive their inheritance.

  Carla sighed and picked up the quilt square she’d worked on the night before. She bit her lip and frowned at the crooked stitches. Two ice skates hung by their laces. Did they even look like ice skates? She sighed. How was she supposed to help make a quilt when she couldn’t even sew a stitch straight? Maybe she should call the attorney and tell her she couldn’t come. But Grams had made it clear she wanted her family reunited. It was all or none. If even one of the cousins didn’t show up, no one received their inheritance. And Carla could certainly use some extra cash. Besides, her cousins would kill her if she didn’t show. She wondered if she would feel close to them. Eve was only a year older than she, and they’d been friends before Carla got so involved in skating and no longer had time for anything much except training, practice, and school.

  She looked at the square again and slapped her hand to her forehead. Her ice skates. Jumping up, she walked into the hall and retrieved her skate bag from the coat closet. She set it by the front door, giving it a pat. She’d been so busy at the diner lately she hadn’t had much time to spend on the ice. At least there would be lots of time to catch up on her skating over the next couple of weeks. Her mind went to the small rink where she used to train, but she pushed the thought away. Why pour salt on the wound of her disappointment? She’d skate at the new arena.

  She went back to her chair, picked up the needle and thread, and began again, immediately pricking her finger. She jerked her hand away and grabbed a tissue. She wasn’t about to show up at the quilting session with blood on her squares. She dabbed at the wound until the tiny drops stopped forming then picked up the needle and started again.

  Todd paced his living room floor. Why hadn’t he told Carla how he felt about her? He’d let his foolish pride hold him back. But what did he have to offer her? A crummy diner that was barely bringing in enough to cover expenses. She deserved better. She had big dreams, and they’d never come to pass if she tied up with him.

  Maybe he should accept Jacob Harrington’s offer to back him. He could open a nice restaurant that would pay its way and more. Something he could be proud of. Of course, even though the man said there’d be no strings attached, Todd wasn’t sure. Harrington’s daughter, Julie, hadn’t exactly been subtle in her flirting when they’d met at a banquet the year before. Besides, he wanted to make it on his own. Not take a handout from someone.

  The doorbell rang and he grabbed his wallet from the coffee table and headed for the door.

  The pizza delivery guy on his front porch grinned. “Here you go, Mr. Berry. Fresh and hot. That’ll be …” He peered at the ticket attached to the oil-splattered box. “Fourteen ninety-nine.” Todd traded a twenty for the box and told him to keep the change.

  After one slice of the meat-and-cheese-loaded special, he shoved the box aside and took his iced tea out on the deck.

  The woods at the back of his immense yard were thick with evergreens and oak. Up closer, the lawn was dotted with what he called his Christmas trees. Cedar and pine. Perfectly shaped. Courtesy of his Uncle Jack, who’d left Todd the house when he passed away back in May.

  Okay, he needed to get himself out of this crummy mood.

  So Carla was going away for three weeks. It wasn’t the end of the world. She’d come back. But what if she didn’t? What if that Swann guy was still around? She’d talked about how close pairs skaters were. Had to be. And she’d admitted she’d had a crush on her older partner. Todd had a crush on a girl when he was fourteen, but couldn’t even remember what she looked like. He’d seen a recent photo of Swann in one of the skating magazines Carla left laying around. He looked like one of those golden boys. Perfect physique, perfect smile, perfect hair.

  Suddenly realizing how ridiculous his thoughts were, Todd gave a short laugh.

  He breathed in deeply of the crisp autumn air then let it out with a whoosh. You’d think he was a kid the way he was acting. He’d be thirty in a couple of months. Carla wasn’t some moonstruck kid either. That girl had a head on her shoulders. He grinned. And besides, she’d kissed him back. Not for long. But she’d kissed him all right. Nearly bowled him over—and she’d looked a little shaken when she left the diner, too.

  She’d promised to call when she arrived in Colorado Springs tomorrow. In the meantime, he needed to stop wallowing in self-pity. He had a business to run, even if it wasn’t a fancy restaurant. Maybe he needed to concentrate on improving Berry’s Diner instead of pining after what he didn’t have. Carla always called it the Berry Patch. Said the name gave it character. Maybe she was right. Should he change the name? Nah. Whoever heard of a diner called the Berry Patch?

  Chapter 2

  The hotel wasn’t the Broadmoor, but it was clean and affordable, had a coffeepot in the room, and would provide free breakfast. Carla hummed while she peered in the mi
rror over the dresser and applied fresh makeup. When she’d arrived at four, it was too early for dinner, so she’d tried to take a nap. When her thoughts kept straying to the skates in her bag, she’d hopped off the bed, made a quick call to the arena, and found out they had public skating at six. Then she’d jumped into the shower.

  She finished with her makeup and braided her hair, grabbed her jacket and skates, and headed for her car. Late afternoon traffic was heavy, and she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel while waiting for an opening to turn left. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to drop by and see if any of her former friends still trained at the old rink. She turned the wheel to the right and pulled out. But this was silly. They were almost sure to train at the new arena. Oh, well. She’d like to at least see the place. Maybe take a few turns around the ice.

  The outside of the building looked pretty much the same, although it appeared to be freshly painted. The sign above the door still said FROMAN’S ICE PALACE. Carla’s stomach tightened. A reflex action from memories of taut nerves when she was a child. Funny, she hadn’t remembered how nervous she used to get coming here. Every time she had to learn a new routine. Every time she competed in a competition. Every time her mother—she drew in her breath—her mother scolded her for missing a jump or a spin or even getting a hand movement wrong.

  Carla laughed. A short little laugh that almost sounded like a hiccup. She’d built things up in her imagination, just as most children did.

  She shoved the memories or impressions or whatever they were back into the recesses of her mind and got out, slamming the car door behind her.

  By the time she stepped inside the building, her excitement had returned. She glanced around the lobby. A young man she didn’t recognize was crossing the foyer. He nodded and went through the double doors leading to the hallway.

  She walked toward the counter with a cash register at one end. Shelves behind the counter held skates and other paraphernalia. Candy lined a glassed-in case beside the register. The tall stool was empty and no one seemed to be in charge. Not very professional. That station was manned at all times in the old days.