Read Online A Warmth in Winter by Lori Copeland - Free Book Online Page A

sure it landed beneath the logs. For good measure, he tossed in a couple of other sticks, then shut the door and latched it tight.
    Brittany’s blue eyes were wide. “How’d you learn how to do that?”
    Bobby shrugged. “Nothing to it, really.”
    He looked at his bed. The temptation to curl beneath the covers was strong, but something told him he couldn’t afford to go back to sleep. Grown men should not lie in bed for more than a day without eating or drinking water. The grandfather needed help.
    Serious help.
    Bobby stood, then ran his fingers through his hair as he moved toward the bathroom. “Get yourself dressed,” he said, keeping his voice low. “We’re going out today. The grandfather needs us.”
    â€œBut we’re not supposed to—”
    â€œWe’ll be careful. But the grandfather needs us to go because we don’t have any Tylenol.”
    After stuffing down a quick breakfast of bread, cheese, and molasses cookies, Bobby led Brittany outside. They’d walked along the beach a few times before, but always with the grandfather keeping watch from the window halfway up the lighthouse, where he could see anyone coming. They knew Puffin Cove, where the grandfather kept his rowboat, and the rocky shore bordering the north end of the island. They also knew the graveled road and had been expressly forbidden to follow it.
    â€œWhat do you suppose is over that way?” Bobby pointed toward a wind-swept field stretching from the lighthouse to a series of sand dunes.
    â€œDon’t know.” Britt lifted her hand to shade her eyes from a bright morning sun. “Hills.”
    â€œBut what’s behind the hills?”
    â€œDon’t know.”
    Bobby moved forward, his chin lifting. “Why don’t we find out?”
    His eyes scanned the field as they moved over the gravelly path toward the dunes. No trees stood here, but tall silvery gray grasses stirred as the wind blew over the sand. The grasses whispered to themselves as they walked toward the town, saying, “Shh! Shh!”
    Bobby felt like walking on tiptoe.
    A few minutes later they lay on the cold sand, the dampness of the earth seeping through the thin fabric of his jacket. From where they lay against the dune he could see a street bordered by pretty houses, a restaurant, a small brick building, and a white church with a tall steeple.
    Brittany pointed toward the church. “Does God live there?”
    â€œDon’t know.” Bobby frowned as a man stepped out of the church, locked the front door, then moved across the lawn to a blue house. “Maybe. But why would they lock him in?”
    â€œLook at that.” Britt pointed toward the tall house across the street from the church. A small, puffy figure stepped off the front porch, followed by a tiny white dog. To their amazement, the child—for that’s what the puffy thing was—began to walk in their direction, the dog running ahead, straight toward . . . them.
    Brittany’s round eyes focused on the animal. “Should we hide?”
    Bobby considered. Ordinarily he’d say yes, but they needed help. And somehow it seemed safer to talk to another kid than to a grownup. Surely the grandfather would agree.
    Making what he was certain was the most important decision of his life, Bobby stood, climbed to the top of the dune, then waved both hands over his head, catching the other kid’s attention.
    As the puffy child drew nearer, Bobby saw that the kid was a boy about Britt’s age, pink-cheeked and plump, with a tangle of brown curls escaping from the hood of his padded snowsuit. He stared at Bobby and Brittany with eyes as wide as saucers, then grinned.
    â€œHey,” he called, running toward them with the dog. “You been up to Puffin Cove?”
    Bobby nodded. “Ayuh. We’ve been there. But there aren’t any puffins around today.”
    â€œNo?” As the little white