Read 3 Madness in Christmas River for Free Online Page B

Daniel.
    Just got to town.Will call this afternoon. Don’t work too hard today. Miss you already.
    I wrote him back and then lay back down in bed.
    I inhaled deeply, the scent of his aftershave still on my pillow.
    “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered out loud. “It’s only a week.”
    Outside, a cloud passed over the sun, dimming the light in the room. The wedding dress fell back into the shadows of the closet.
    I was tired, but any chance of getting back to sleep had passed me by.  
    I got up and threw on a robe before heading downstairs.
     

 
    Chapter 10
     
    “You look like hell, Cin,” Warren said, handing me a steaming cup of coffee.
    Not exactly what a lady wants to hear first thing in the morning, but I knew Warren didn’t mean anything by it.
    I took a sip, the warm liquid reviving me as it traveled down my throat.
    “It felt like a long drive back from the airport this morning,” I said. “And I didn’t sleep all that good when I got back. I had another nightmare.”
    Warren poured a cup for himself and joined me at the table.
    “I’ve been there,” he said. “The weeks before I married your grandmother were particularly hard on my dream state, I tell you what.”
    “You had cold feet?” I asked.
    He shook his head.
    “No. I knew from the moment I met your grandmother that I really lucked out,” he said. “But I was nervous as hell before the wedding. I guess I was afraid I’d fail her somehow. Or maybe I was afraid that I’d do something really stupid to mess it all up. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I never regretted marrying your grandmother. Even when she was a real pain in the you-know-what.”
    He put a little more creamer in his coffee and took a sip. He stared out the window a second, a faraway look in his eyes.
    I had barely known Grandma Mae. She died before I even learned to walk.
    Sometimes it was easy to forget just how much tragedy Warren had endured in his life. He never felt sorry for himself and always had such a glass-half-full attitude, it was easy to forget that he’d lost his wife and his daughter, both before their time.
    I didn’t see him do it often, but occasionally he’d gaze at an old photo of my grandmother, a distant look on his face. It was an old photo taken during their honeymoon to Scotland, so many, many years ago. Back when they were both young, with not a wrinkle on either of their faces.
    Warren took another sip of his coffee, then cleared his throat.
    “Maybe you oughta take the day off,” he said. “You have those two youngsters to run things at the shop today, don’t you?”
    I shrugged.
    “Yeah, but I should really be there. It’s a busy time.”
    “Only as busy as you want to make it.”
    “There’s too much to do.”
    “Suit yourself,” he said. “But you should give yourself a break every now and then. It’s important.”
    “Take your own advice, brewmaster,” I said, smiling. “You’re slaving away in that garage day and night.”
    “It keeps me young,” he said, winking.
    He glanced back toward the stairs. 
    “I swear, that Marie sleeps in later than a teenage boy,” he said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Do you think she’ll be up before the sun goes down today?”
    “Aw, c’mon, that’s just her way,” I said. “She’s always been like that.”
    “Between her sleep schedule and mine, I’ve only seen her a few hours this whole trip.”
    “Well, lucky for us, she’s sticking around a while,” I said, finishing the last of my coffee. “Hey, where’s your newspaper, old man?”
    “There’s a wicked wind out there this morning and I couldn’t risk it blowing my hair out of place.”
    I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, got up, and rubbed his balding head on my way over to the door.
    I opened it up, a burst of that wicked wind blowing past me and into the house. I looked up at the sky, the blue quickly disappearing under a high film of steely-looking grey clouds.
    I