A Cedar Cove Christmas by Debbie Macomber Read Free Book Online Page B

stable—something another Mary had done before her.

6
    O livia reluctantly left the library by herself. Weak as she was these days, it made more sense for Mary Jo to go home with Grace. Nevertheless, Olivia felt a certain obligation toward this vulnerable young woman.
    Olivia had never had positive feelings toward her stepbrother, and this situation definitely hadn’t improved her impression of him. Ben’s son could be deceptive and cruel. She knew very well that David had lied to Mary Jo Wyse. Sure, it took two to tango, as that old cliché had it—and two to get Mary Jo into her present state. But Olivia also knew that David would have misrepresented himself and, even worse, abdicated all responsibility for Mary Jo and his child. No wonder her family was in an uproar. Olivia didn’t blame them; she would be, too.
    The drive from the library to Harbor Street Gallery took less than two minutes. Olivia hated driving such a short distance when at any other time in her life she would’ve walked those few blocks. The problem was that those blocks were a steep uphill climb and she didn’t have the energy. The surgery and subsequent infection had sapped her of strength and energy. Today, however, wasn’t a day to dwell on the cancer that had struck her so unexpectedly, like a viper hiding in the garden. Today, Christmas Eve, was a day for gratitude and hope.
    She parked outside the art gallery her brother had purchased and was renovating. Olivia had been the one to suggest he buy the gallery; he’d done so, and it seemed to be a good decision for him.
    Will was waiting for her at the door. “Liv!” he said, bounding toward her in his larger-than-life way. He extended his arms for a hug. “Merry Christmas.”
    “The same to you,” she said, smiling up at him. Her brother, although over sixty, remained a strikingly handsome man. Now divorced and retired, he’d come home to reinvent himself, leaving behind his former life in Atlanta. In the beginning Olivia had doubted his motives, but slowly he’d begun to prove himself, becoming an active member of the town—and his family—once again.
    “I wanted to give you a tour of the gallery,” Will told her, as he led her inside.
    The last time Olivia had visited the town’s art gallery had been while Maryellen Bowman, Grace’s daughter, was the manager. Maryellen had been forced to resign during a difficult pregnancy. The business had rapidly declined once she’d left, and eventually the gallery had gone up for sale.
    Gazing around, Olivia could hardly believe the changes. “You did all this in less than a month?” The place barely resembled the old Harbor Street Gallery. Before Will had taken over, artwork had been arranged in a simple, straightforward manner—paintings and photographs on the walls, sculpture on tables.
    Will had built distinctive multi-level glass cases and brought in other inventive means of displaying a variety of mediums, including a carefully designed lighting system. One entire wall was taken up with a huge quilt, unlike any she’d seen before. At first glance she had the impression of fire.
    Close up, it looked abstract, with vivid clashing colors and surreal, swirling shapes. But, stepping back, Olivia identified an image that suddenly emerged—a dragon. It was fierce, angry, red, shooting out flames in gold, purple and orange satin against a background that incorporated trees, water and winding roads.
    “That’s by Shirley Bliss,” Will said, following her gaze.
    “It took me weeks to convince her to let me put that up. I only have it until New Year’s.”
    “It’s magnificent.” Olivia was in awe of the piece and couldn’t tear her eyes from it.
    “It isn’t for sale, however.”
    “That’s a shame.”
    Will nodded. “She calls it Death. She created it shortly after her husband was killed in a motorcycle accident.” He slipped an arm through Olivia’s. “Can’t you just feel her anger and her grief?”
    The quilt