A Tangle of Knots by Lisa Graff Read Free Book Online Page A

smells delicious. Marigold loved the one you made her, you know.”
    Cady smiled. She’d baked Marigold a lime pound cake the day the Ashers had moved in last week, and the girls had been fast friends ever since.
    In the passenger’s seat, V finally seemed to snap out of her trance. She held the duffel bag while Mrs. Asher helped her with her seat belt.
    “What kind of cake are you making today?” Mrs. Asher asked.
    Cady shifted the groceries to her hip and twirled the small bunch of yellow wildflowers in her left hand, watching the petals spin in dizzy circles. They were nothing like the dazzling purple petunias and multicolored pansies Miss Mallory cared for at the Home for Lost Girls, but they made Cady ache just the slightest for the place all the same. She looked up at Mrs. Asher. “Did you know you’re a honey cake?” she said. “Rich with dark sweetness, and a surprising kick of spices.”
    Mrs. Asher helped V to her feet. “That is just remarkable, ” she said, shaking her head. “You’re right, that does sound like exactly the perfect cake.”
    Cady looked down at her feet. “I’ll have to make it for you sometime.”
    She felt the warm hand on her shoulder before she saw it. “Sweetheart?” Mrs. Asher said. “Everything okay?”
    Cady bit her bottom lip. “I just want Toby to be happy with me, is all.” What if the reason he was so reserved was that Cady wasn’t the daughter he’d always dreamed of? What if, tonight at the bakeoff, he told Miss Mallory to go ahead and take Cady back?
    Mrs. Asher opened her mouth to reply, but just at that moment, the wordless woman—V—made a noise like a startled horse. She dropped her duffel bag, right in the dirt, and when Cady looked up, she saw that the woman was staring at her.
    V bolted for the Emporium door.
    “Oh dear,” Mrs. Asher said, rescuing the duffel. Her gaze followed V to the door. Wha-pop! went the wood against the frame. “She’s had a difficult week,” she told Cady.
    Cady nodded.
    “Before I forget . . .” Mrs. Asher hoisted the duffel to her shoulder and drew the red whatever-it-might-be from underneath her arm. With quick fingers she worked the needles through the yarn, finishing off the last row of loops, then snipped the loose end with a pair of scissors she pulled from who knew where. She traded the object to Cady for the bag of groceries. “This is for you.”
    It was a knitted red apron, perfect for cake-baking. Cady ran her fingers over the knotty red flowers stitched into it. It was the first piece of clothing that anyone had ever made her. “Thank you,” she said.
    Mrs. Asher squeezed her hand. “Of course. And Cady?” Cady looked up from the apron. “All a parent really wants from his child is her happiness. So if you’re happy, Toby will be, too.”
    * * * 
    Cady was bending down to pick a particularly beautiful wildflower when she saw the plume of dirt curling down Argyle Road. At the far end of the drive, Cady could just make out a man on a bicycle, kicking up more and more dust as he headed ever closer. The man was huge, towering, even on a bicycle (although he rode it well). He was wearing a gray suit. And no matter how hard Cady squinted, she couldn’t determine the man’s age. He might have been forty, he might have been older.
    There was a single powder blue suitcase strapped to the back of his bicycle.
    The man rode right up to the front door. He swung a leg easily over the center bar of his bike and leaned the contraption against a dying hedge. “Good morning,” he greeted Cady, unhooking the suitcase from the back.
    “Morning,” Cady replied.
    The man bent down and picked up the flowers Cady hadn’t realized she’d dropped. He handed them to her, a sideways sort of grin on his face. It was a grin that suggested he knew more about the world than he was letting on.
    From the bottom of his suit jacket, she could make out several bits of knotted rope.
    “Thanks,” Cady said, taking the