Read Online Finding Floyd by Melinda Peters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melinda Peters
Tags: fbi agent, Bed & Breakfast, blue ridge mountains, black bears, southern recipes, bluegrass music, fiddle tunes, floyd country store, floyd virginia, red tom cat
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simply stared
unsmiling, with those deep onyx eyes. He sighed, looked away and
ran a hand through his short blond hair.
"Tomorrow, how about you flash his picture
around the local businesses? See if anyone recognizes him. He has
to buy food. Maybe he's gone all the way to Roanoke or some other
place."
"Yeah, I'm gonna do that. He's been shopping
all right. There's wine, a little fruit and other stuff inside.
Found a couple of receipts for local stores too. He paid cash," she
said, pausing. "The guy's a slob. There's trash everywhere in
there."
"Well, that's something. It's a start. Let's
get out of here. I need a shower and a bite to eat," he said,
heading down toward the road and their cars.
Chapter 7
Becky clung to Ethan like a
drowning person tossed on the flood. The ground heaved beneath
them. A tremendous series of thunderclaps came out of the west and
washed over them. Although they’d experienced the first quake just
five weeks before, they were no less frightened by this one. It
seemed as though the whole world was coming apart. Ethan thought
that this second quake was at least as violent as the first. The
girl held onto him, face buried on his chest and whimpering with
terror.
Eventually the motion of
the earth subsided. Ethan couldn’t have told how long the violence
continued. It hadn’t collapsed their lean-to shelter of pine
boughs, but shook needles in a fragrant stickiness upon them. They
lay in one another’s arms, the comforting scent of pine filling the
narrow space. Finally, they lifted their heads. Becky’s blue eyes
were misted with tears, and her blond hair, shaken loose, fell over
her shoulders and across Ethan. For a long moment, the couple
stared into each other’s eyes, their fear slowly subsiding. At
least they weren’t alone, in a world gone eerily silent and still.
He softly whispered her name and their lips met in a kiss so
passionate, it took them both by surprise.'
From Reelfoot Legacy, by
Melinda Peters
"Sure, I know all about them earthquakes,"
said Jeremiah. The old man shifted his weight in the porch rocker,
leaned back, and squinted at the distant blue-green hills as if
what he wanted to say was written there. "Reason is, my
great-great-granddaddy settled out there, right near the
Mississippi, about two-hundred years ago. It was the Territory
then, but now it's Tennessee." He stopped his rocking, leaned over
the arm of his chair, and gave her a curious frown. "What you want
to know about all that for, young lady? Most folks nowadays just
aren't interested in them old stories."
Vicky swept her dark auburn hair over her
shoulder and leaned toward the old man, excited at the thought of a
personal story to further her research. "Oh, but I'm interested Mr.
Evans. I'd love to hear them all. I'm fascinated by the past."
Since deciding on the historical setting for the next book, she'd
taken to asking people what they knew about the New Madrid
earthquakes. Until now, the only responses she'd received were
blank looks.
Jeremiah looked at her suspiciously. "Are you
now?" Shrugging, he tugged on the legs of his overalls, and settled
into the cushions. The chair began to gently rock again.
"Did your ancestors ever write anything down
about the earthquakes, Mr. Evans?" she asked hopefully.
"Nah. Nothing like that." He waved a hand
towards her dismissing the idea. "Leastways, not here in Virginia.
My granddaddy said once he thought his kinfolk out in Tennessee
wrote it all down, but I don't know for sure." He rocked for a
moment before continuing, "There's a passel of stories handed down
over the years though. There's things my daddy told me, that his
daddy and granddad told him. Some of it fearsome enough to make you
go all over gooseflesh, and that's a fact."
"So your family lived there before it was
part of Tennessee?" she asked encouraging him.
"It was the first Jeremiah settled out there
with his folks. I'm named for him, don't ya know." Warming to his
story, he
unsmiling, with those deep onyx eyes. He sighed, looked away and
ran a hand through his short blond hair.
"Tomorrow, how about you flash his picture
around the local businesses? See if anyone recognizes him. He has
to buy food. Maybe he's gone all the way to Roanoke or some other
place."
"Yeah, I'm gonna do that. He's been shopping
all right. There's wine, a little fruit and other stuff inside.
Found a couple of receipts for local stores too. He paid cash," she
said, pausing. "The guy's a slob. There's trash everywhere in
there."
"Well, that's something. It's a start. Let's
get out of here. I need a shower and a bite to eat," he said,
heading down toward the road and their cars.
Chapter 7
Becky clung to Ethan like a
drowning person tossed on the flood. The ground heaved beneath
them. A tremendous series of thunderclaps came out of the west and
washed over them. Although they’d experienced the first quake just
five weeks before, they were no less frightened by this one. It
seemed as though the whole world was coming apart. Ethan thought
that this second quake was at least as violent as the first. The
girl held onto him, face buried on his chest and whimpering with
terror.
Eventually the motion of
the earth subsided. Ethan couldn’t have told how long the violence
continued. It hadn’t collapsed their lean-to shelter of pine
boughs, but shook needles in a fragrant stickiness upon them. They
lay in one another’s arms, the comforting scent of pine filling the
narrow space. Finally, they lifted their heads. Becky’s blue eyes
were misted with tears, and her blond hair, shaken loose, fell over
her shoulders and across Ethan. For a long moment, the couple
stared into each other’s eyes, their fear slowly subsiding. At
least they weren’t alone, in a world gone eerily silent and still.
He softly whispered her name and their lips met in a kiss so
passionate, it took them both by surprise.'
From Reelfoot Legacy, by
Melinda Peters
"Sure, I know all about them earthquakes,"
said Jeremiah. The old man shifted his weight in the porch rocker,
leaned back, and squinted at the distant blue-green hills as if
what he wanted to say was written there. "Reason is, my
great-great-granddaddy settled out there, right near the
Mississippi, about two-hundred years ago. It was the Territory
then, but now it's Tennessee." He stopped his rocking, leaned over
the arm of his chair, and gave her a curious frown. "What you want
to know about all that for, young lady? Most folks nowadays just
aren't interested in them old stories."
Vicky swept her dark auburn hair over her
shoulder and leaned toward the old man, excited at the thought of a
personal story to further her research. "Oh, but I'm interested Mr.
Evans. I'd love to hear them all. I'm fascinated by the past."
Since deciding on the historical setting for the next book, she'd
taken to asking people what they knew about the New Madrid
earthquakes. Until now, the only responses she'd received were
blank looks.
Jeremiah looked at her suspiciously. "Are you
now?" Shrugging, he tugged on the legs of his overalls, and settled
into the cushions. The chair began to gently rock again.
"Did your ancestors ever write anything down
about the earthquakes, Mr. Evans?" she asked hopefully.
"Nah. Nothing like that." He waved a hand
towards her dismissing the idea. "Leastways, not here in Virginia.
My granddaddy said once he thought his kinfolk out in Tennessee
wrote it all down, but I don't know for sure." He rocked for a
moment before continuing, "There's a passel of stories handed down
over the years though. There's things my daddy told me, that his
daddy and granddad told him. Some of it fearsome enough to make you
go all over gooseflesh, and that's a fact."
"So your family lived there before it was
part of Tennessee?" she asked encouraging him.
"It was the first Jeremiah settled out there
with his folks. I'm named for him, don't ya know." Warming to his
story, he
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