Read Online Debbie Macomber by Where Angels Go - Free Book Online Page A

Shirley, who hadn’t moved from her position on the motorized grocery cart. Shirley seemed to assume the other two had left the premises, and Mercy let her think that. She studied the cart for a moment. These little numbers were a breeze to operate. Not that Shirley, so righteous and well-behaved, would know that…. With the lightest touch of her finger, Mercy fired the cart’s engine to life.
    Stunned, Shirley glanced around, obviously wondering what had changed and why. Mercy wasn’t about to tell her. The cart took off into the store with Shirley on board.
    Shoppers gasped and leaped out of the way. Several people reached for their cell phones to snap pictures of the runaway cart, careering through the store minus a rider.
    Mercy covered her mouth to hold back a laugh. Goodness joined her, laughing, too. Shirley wasn’t nearly so calm.
    â€œMercy!” she screamed. “Help! Do something.”
    â€œI believe she already did.” Goodness chuckled and disappeared once again. Mercy did, too. Since Shirley had time on her hands, she could use it figuring out how to turn off the cart.

7
    B eth wasn’t imagining it. The relationship between her and Peter had shifted since the night of her mother’s call. That’d been two days ago, and whenever they logged on to the game she lowered her guard a fraction more. So did Peter.
    The biggest difference was that they chatted far more than strictly necessary. And their messaging didn’t concern the game as much as it did each other.
    You’re right on time, I notice, he wrote when she logged on.
    Beth kicked off her shoes as she settled into the chair by her desk. She set aside the soda she was drinking in order to respond. You’re ahead of schedule.
    I was anxious.
    Beth read his words and leaned away from her desk. She wasn’t sure how to decipher that comment. Did Peter mean he was anticipating her arrival? Or was he implying that he was worried she’d be late? It was hard to tell.
    Anxious why? she asked, preferring the direct approach.
    To talk to you.
    Now that they’d reached level forty in World of Warcraft, the option to purchase a mount had been offered to them. It was a big advantage and one they’d been considering. Any particular reason? she asked, wondering if that was what he wanted to discuss.
    Yeah.
    That didn’t tell her anything. Would you care to explain?
    His reply didn’t come for a couple of minutes, as if he needed to think about it first. So this obviously wasn’t about the possibility of adding a mount to their list of resources.
    We’ve been partners—how long? he asked instead.
    Six months.
    It seems longer.
    Again Beth didn’t know what to make of that.
    Really?
    I trust you.
    She laughed. As well you should. I’ve covered your butt often enough, oh mighty Timixie.
    I’ve covered yours, too.
    For which I’m most grateful.
    That’s only appropriate.
    Beth laughed, enjoying the light, teasing quality of their exchange. She typed quickly. Are you going to chatter all night or are we going to play?
    Can’t we do both?
    Beth felt a rush of warmth. It was a pleasant sensation and one she’d almost forgotten. Talking with the opposite sex was awkward for her, except in situations that didn’t involve potentially romantic expectations—with family, for instance, or male colleagues or friends like Sam. She felt comfortable with Peter, at ease. Although they hadn’t even spoken on the phone, let alone face-to-face, it was the first time she’d had that kind of reaction to a man since John.
    Despite what her mother said, Beth had dated after her divorce; she just hadn’t done it successfully. Most social conversations with men felt stilted. She struggled with how much to say or not to say.
    Her record was three dates with the same man. Luke Whitcomb. He’d been a nice guy, entertaining and funny. His sense of humor had carried