Quilter's Knot Read Free Page A

definitely know more about the life and times of Sarah Ness then anyone ought to,” Mavis chuckled.
* * * *
    The Angel Harbor Folk Art Center consisted of three large pavilions hidden in a stand of old growth forest five miles south of the community of Angel Harbor. The pavilions were large round buildings surrounded by a series of smaller outbuildings. Robin pulled her mini-van into the visitors parking area in front of Building B, the Fiber Arts Center.
    "Let's go get our room assignments and keys,” she said and got out of the car.
    Harriet followed the other Loose Threads as they picked up their class schedules, room keys and meal tickets and returned to the car. Robin drove them down a narrow lane through the cool dark forest, parking in front of a cedar-shingled building that looked more like a grounded Tree House than a cottage.
    "Wow,” she said as she got out of the car and had to tilt her head to see the top floors of the place she would call home for the next week.
    "They've really done a nice job of blending their buildings into the woods,” DeAnn explained. “Our dorm is actually called The Tree House.” She breathed deeply of the damp, fragrant forest. “I love spending time here. It's so peaceful I could stay forever."
    Inside, Harriet carried her overnight bag up a series of stairs that narrowed with each flight she ascended. She had checked the box on her registration that said she was able to climb stairs and realized now they were serious when they'd asked.
    The rooms were paneled in rough cedar plank and were furnished with two single beds, two desks, night stands and lamps and a row of pegs under the window that looked out into the woods and divided the room into two identical halves. Their bathroom was down the hall, but at least they didn't have to share it with anyone else. A vase of dried wild flowers sat on a small wooden stand near the door.
    "How does it look?” Mavis asked when Harriet came back down the stairs.
    "It looks cozy—I think the comforters are real goose down. You'd think they would have artistically handcrafted bed quilts."
    Mavis looked away.
    "What?” Harriet asked.
    "What Mavis doesn't want to tell you is that the first floor rooms are filled with unique handcrafted items,” Robin said. “The decorator hasn't gone upstairs yet."
    "They probably don't tour prospective guests beyond the first floor,” DeAnn said as she came down the stairs. “If the dried weed decoration in our room is any indication, these folks aren't rolling in money. Either that, or they pour their money into their art."
    "What she's trying to say is, they're stingy with the heat and most meals are some kind of soup,” Lauren informed them. “And be careful when you sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Its springs are killer."
    Count on Lauren to hit the low points, Harriet thought.
    "Come on, ladies, we should go on down to the fiber arts pavilion—new student orientation will start in...” Mavis glanced at her watch. “...fifteen minutes, and if she has to lecture Carla and Harriet on punctuality it will be that much longer until we get our tea."
    The women gathered their purses and sweaters and left the Tree House.
    "Who is she , and does she lecture a lot?” Harriet whispered to DeAnn as they walked along the wooded path that led to their destination.
    "She is Selestina Bainbridge, the head of the fiber arts department and owner of the whole shebang,” DeAnn replied, and waved her arms to indicate the woods around them. “Legend has it she inherited it from her husband who died years ago in the arms of his lover at the no-tell motel out by the highway. Apparently, he was sent to meet his maker by the lover's unforgiving spouse."
    "So she doesn't have any issues, right?” Harriet said with a laugh.
    DeAnn just rolled her eyes skyward.
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Chapter Four
    "Please come in and take a seat,” said a short, wiry woman with dull blonde hair that was just starting