Dreams of Fire (Maple Hill Chronicles Book 1) Read Free Page A

coffee from the moment she got out of bed, he thought. Or maybe she had an untreated manic condition.
    Thrusting a printout at him she said, “You’re late. It must be nice to be able to sleep in without a care in the world. I’ve been here since seven. Here’s the punch list for the day. Keep the billing straight, will you? You’ve been sloppy, and it’s a bitch to straighten out.”
    Bitch. Right. He thought it but didn’t voice it. She wasn’t likely to find another handyman as good as he was, so in spite of her complaints, she paid him a living wage. All the same, he didn’t usually rock the boat. Looking at the sheet, he saw it was another day of annoying repairs and paint jobs and sighed quietly.
    “The Thomas place on Violet is being rented finally so make sure you stop by and turn the electricity on first thing and bring the key back. The tenant moves in at eleven today, and I need to let her in,” SueAnn said briskly.  
    The Thomas place on Violet? He thought. That’s been empty awhile. He vaguely remembered a brief occupation by a lady from the city a year or so ago. She hadn’t stayed long. He remembered having to go fix something there but couldn’t for the moment remember what it was. That bugged him. Usually he remembered places by the things he’d had to paint or fix.  
    “What are you waiting for? Get going!” SueAnn urged him out the door.  
    “Keep your shirt on, Talmadge,” he murmured resignedly. “I’m on it.”  

      Kelly threw her arm over Sarah as they lay under the sheet together and whispered, “ ’Morning, I love you.”
    “Mmmm,” Sarah replied sleepily.
    “I’m going running before it gets too hot. See you at breakfast.” She kissed her partner’s cheek before slipping out of bed.
    “Love you too,” Sarah mumbled and rolled over. She could never understand Kelly’s energy so early in the morning. Seven-thirty was early enough for her. None of this five a.m. stuff.
    Two hours later Sarah woke again to the sounds of Kelly clattering in the kitchen below. She’d had a vague, disturbing dream, the details of which were rapidly fading. She was familiar with most of Maple Hill’s inhabitants, either from growing up here or through the law firm where she worked, and sometimes had premonitions about them. Often they weren’t very clear, though, which was frustrating. This time there was an impression of a woman running away from someone through a field of little purple flowers. That could fit pretty much half the population of Maple Hill. She sighed and figured she’d just have to wait and see what developed.
    Her thoughts turned reluctantly to the big meeting this afternoon at work. Smith, Walgust and Brown, the biggest law firm in town, often handled the Ballister family’s affairs. The Ballisters were arranging to purchase a historic piece of property. She wasn’t looking forward to it much since the Ballisters treated her at arm’s length rather than as the solid, respectable lawyer she was. In spite of that, she was always professional and bent over backwards to do her homework and prepare each document and case thoroughly.  
    She’d grown up in Maple Hill, gone away to law school, and come back a competent professional. But somehow, it was hard to change people’s minds about her. Being openly gay was becoming less of a problem even in the small Hudson Valley town, but her ability to converse with the dead was just too weird for most people. Even though it had proved useful on more than one occasion. People often focused on the wrong things, she shook her head sadly. Mercifully, the partners who ran the firm trusted her and respected her judgment, or else she’d never be able to keep her job.

    The doorbell sounded a Big Ben chime, and Marianne hurried to the front door. Two burly men were standing on the stoop, their maroon moving van with “Burgdorf’s Moving Service” in black and gold fancy lettering was parked at the end of the