Key Of Valor

Key Of Valor by Nora Roberts Page B

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Authors: Nora Roberts
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for an entire afternoon with nothing but a book and a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade.
    The hammock swung, gentle as a cradle, and the book lay, neglected and unread, on her belly. The taste of tart lemonade was still on her tongue.
    Her eyes were closed behind shaded glasses, and she could feel the breeze blowing sweetly over her face.
    She didn’t know the last time she’d been so relaxed. Mind and body totally at rest. There was nothing to do but bask in the quiet and peace.
    She drifted along with a sigh of perfect contentment.
    And was standing in the trailer, sweating in the vicious heat. It was like living in a can, she thought as she swept shorn hair into a pile on the floor.
    She could hear her brother and younger sister arguing, their voices spilling through the stingy windows. High and tight and angry. Everyone always seemed so angry here.
    It made her head pound, viciously.
    Moving to the door, she shoved it open to shout out to them.
    Be quiet! For God’s sake, be quiet for five damn minutes and give me some peace .
    And found herself wandering in a forest, with winter snow thick under her feet. Wind screamed through the pines, whipped the branches toward a sky the color of stone.
    She was cold, and lost and afraid.
    As she began to trudge, hunched into herself against the blizzard, she wrapped an arm under her swollen belly to anchor the baby.
    He was so heavy, and she was so tired.
    She wanted to stop, to rest. What was the point, what was the use? She would never find her way out.
    Pain vised her belly, doubled her over in shock. She felt a gush between her legs, and stared down in horror at the blood spilling onto the snow.
    Terrified, she opened her mouth to scream, and found herself back in the hammock, in the shade, tasting lemonade again.
    Choose.
    She bolted up from her own kitchen table, shivering while Moe stood beside her snarling at thin air.

Chapter Four
    I T was trickier than Zoe had expected to talk Simon into spending the day with one of his school friends instead of coming with her to work at Indulgence.
    He liked hanging out with the guys. He wanted to play with Moe. He could help with stuff. He wouldn’t get in the way.
    In the end she fell back on the most successful parental ploy of all. Bribery. They would stop by the video store on the way and rent two games and a movie.
    When it turned out that Moe was welcome to join the play date and romp in the backyard with young Chuck’s yellow lab, Simon wasn’t only satisfied, he was in heaven.
    It alleviated a big chunk of the guilt, and the worry, and gave Zoe the opportunity to explore her first theory.
    If the journey in the clue was hers, and the forest a kind of symbol, maybe it referred to her life in the Valley. The paths she’d taken in the place she’d made her home.
    She’d been drawn here, to this pretty little valley town,and had known it was her place the moment she’d driven through it nearly four years earlier.
    She’d had to work, to struggle, to sacrifice to find the joy and the fulfillment. She’d had to choose her paths, her directions, her destinations.
    She reacquainted herself with them now, driving along the streets she knew so well. Quiet streets, she thought, on this early Sunday morning. She cruised the neighborhoods, as she had years before when her mind had been set on finding a house for herself and Simon. She’d done that first, she remembered, to give herself time to find the rhythm of the town, to see how the houses struck her, how the people made her feel as she watched them walk or drive.
    It had been spring, late spring. She’d admired the gardens, the yards, the settled feel of the place.
    She’d spotted the For Sale sign on the scrubby lawn in front of the little brown house. And with a kind of inner click of recognition, she’d known it was the one. She stopped at the curb, as she had then, studied what was hers while trying to see it as it had

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