Read Online Messenger by Moonlight by Stephanie Grace Whitson - Free Book Online

haphazard arrangement of fabrics in dozens of colors and patterns. The variety reminded her of flowers blooming in a field, each one distinct and yet, when seen from a distance, blending into a beautiful whole.
    A memory surfaced. Ma sitting in a rocking chair, stitching. When it threatened to fade, Annie held onto it. The blurred edges filled in a bit. A rocking chair
by the fireplace
. Ma humming. A different bit of patchwork, this one far more organized than the one in Annie’s hands. Vibrant colors—orange and red and green against dark blue. What had happened to it?
    Annie raised the quilt to her cheek and closed her eyes. A few deep breaths, and the knot in her stomach relaxed a bit. Perhaps breakfast would stay down after all. When she spread the faded quilt atop the elegant bed, she kept the patchworkside facing up. Only the blue striped backing fabric showed once she’d finished folding, rolling, and securing the resulting bedroll with rope.
    She had just tucked her comb into her pocket and was about to lock her trunk when Emmet slipped into the room with a black metal box in hand. “You probably don’t remember this, but Pa kept it beneath one of the floorboards in his room. You’ll be the family banker for the next couple of years.” He handed her the key, and she strung it onto the ribbon around her neck.
    After Frank and Emmet left to transport their trunks and bedrolls to the livery, Annie took a last walk in the hotel courtyard to admire the blooming flowers. She sat on one of the marble benches and listened to the fountain. Finally, she climbed the stairs to the second floor and gazed into the ballroom, remembering the beautiful music she’d heard while dancing there.
You’ll hear beautiful music again. This isn’t the end. It’s part of your new beginning.
    The next morning, Annie reveled in the luxury of lemon-scented sheets one last time until, finally, Frank called through the door. “Are Emmet and me gonna have to come in there and drag you out of bed?”
    With a sigh, she threw back the covers. “I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.” One last turn of the magical water spigot. One last use of the dainty linen facecloth with the embroidered hotel monogram. One last morning peering out the window at the street below and pretending to be a princess.
    She braided her thick hair, leaving the braid to trail down her back. Simple was best for what lay ahead. With a final look around the room, she grabbed the broad-brimmed hat she’d always worn on the farm—Pa had said it was a dragoon’scast-off—pulled the door closed behind her, and went downstairs. She’d just handed her room key to Mr. Pierce and bade him good-bye when Frank stepped up, looking annoyed.
    “There you are. Finally.”
    Annie looked past him. “What are you upset about? I beat Emmet and Jake down.”
    “No, you didn’t. They went on ahead.” He nodded at Mr. Pierce, who turned around, took a box off a shelf behind him, and set it on the counter. Frank slid it toward Annie. “Emmet said I should do the honors. It was my idea, but it’s from both of us.”
    The Paxtons were not a gift-giving family. Annie stared at the box. “What is it?”
    “Open it.”
    Setting her hat on the counter, Annie untied the string and lifted the lid. Boots.
New
boots.
    “Well now,” Mr. Pierce said quietly. “That’s as fine a pair of boots as I ever saw.” He smiled at Annie. “You wear them in good health, Miss Paxton. And don’t forget your friends at the Patee House.”
    “We didn’t know what color,” Frank said. “I personally thought red was the way to go, but you know Emmet. Always so conservative.”
    “They’re perfect,” Annie croaked. She’d never had a pair of new boots in her life. Every spring, Pa took a piece of paper and a pencil and drew around her foot. He carried the paper to town, usually managing to return with the right size, but always with a pair so worn Annie suspected he’d dug them out