Pieces of Dreams Read Free

with immense dignity, it patted the starburst under it, then took a tentative step.
    “Call to it, girls,” Aunt Dora directed. “Come on, now. You have to do your part if you want it to be a fair trial.”
    “Here, kitty, kitty,” Sarah cajoled, obliging as always.
    “Over here, cat,” Esther said, trying not to laugh.
    Biddy eyed it askance. “Don't let that creature come near me or I'll start to sneeze and won't quit till doomsday.”
    “Sweet little kitty,” Lydia crooned with a grin and a competitive glance at the others. “Come here, darling bitty kitty. Over here, come to Lydia.”
    The cat sat down and started to lick a paw.
    A gust of giggles and half-smothered jeers greeted the performance. Melly looked toward her aunt with humor flashing bright in the black-eyed-Susan-brown of her eyes. She made no effort to coax the kitten herself, of course, since she knew perfectly well when she would be married, and to whom. “Now what?”
    “Call it again,” Aunt Dora urged the others as she placed her fists on her hips. Her frown was earnest, as if she actually expected the kitten to foretell the future happiness of at least one of their number.
    They did as suggested, except for Biddy who made shooing motions in the direction of the others with her small hands. The kitten looked up from its ablutions and pricked its ears, but made no move to leave its seat.
    “Oh, dear,” Lydia moaned in mock dismay. “Does this mean we're all hopeless?”
    “Don't be ridiculous,” Melly said bracingly. “It's my belief you're all trying to avoid your fate. Call him as if you mean it!”
    At the sound of Melly's voice, the kitten blinked and turned his head in her direction. Then as if executing a tiresome duty, the small animal rose and glided into a dainty walk, picking its way over silk and satin and the gold featherstitching that outlined the connecting seams of the squares. At once, the bridesmaids renewed their giggling, cajoling efforts.
    The kitten paid no attention. It did not hesitate, did not pause, but made its way straight to Melly. Dropping into a crouch in front of her, it launched into a graceful leap. As she caught it in her arms, it climbed up to snuggle into the tender curve of her neck. Immediately, it began to purr.
    “Hey! No fair!” Lydia cried.
    Biddy made a sound of mild disgust. “What can you expect? The silly thing belongs to Melly, after all.”
    “She is definitely going to be married, you'll have to give the cat that much,” Sarah pointed out on a throaty chuckle.
    At that moment, the front door swung open. The young women turned as one to see who had arrived. Their lively chatter died away into sudden, breathless silence.
    The man who stepped into the room was tall and broad and bronzed, with hair so bleached by the sun that it had the color and sheen of spun gold. Standing relaxed and four-square in the doorway, he appeared as sure of his welcome as a conquering Caesar. As he saw the women staring at him, his blue eyes took on a brilliant sheen of merriment while a slow grin curved his mouth.
    “Caleb!” Melly cried. Driven by amazement for the opportune arrival, she lowered the kitten to the quilt, pushed back her chair, and sprang up. Then, laughing, she ran to fling herself into her fiancé’s arms.
    A soft grunt of surprise left him as he caught her against his chest. An instant later, his blue gaze turned smoky with the rise of desire. His firm lips parted for a quiet oath, then he lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers.
    It was like stepping into a whirlwind, a spinning fury of the senses. Melly's lips tingled, heating with the contact. Her heart seemed to stop. She felt buffeted, storm-tossed, lost in a delirium of sheer, pulsating magic. Dimly she was aware of the parlor, her aunt, her friends, but they did not seem to matter. All that had being or reason was the warm, hard arms around her and the sweet, tender taste of the man who held her so close to his