Virtue Falls by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online

Smith, and Margaret’s own tenacious nature had given her.
    All Margaret’s kind feelings toward Aurora evaporated, and in the cutting tone with which Margaret had controlled her staff, her sons, and her dear departed husband, she said, “No offer is generous enough to force me out of my home and away from the work which God has given me.”
    Aurora was too self-absorbed to recognize the threat to her well-being and to the comfort of her stay at the resort. In that amused and patronizing tone that adults reserve for cute children and the elderly, Aurora said, “Surely God allows us all a time to relax at the end of our lives.”
    “When I’m at the end of my life, I will let you know.” Margaret smiled with all her teeth.
    Only then did the stupid woman realize her mistake.
    Luckily for Aurora, Margaret’s manager watched over her. He recognized her rage when he saw it, and swiftly interrupted with an emergency that required Margaret’s attention.
    She excused herself and followed him to the table where the server from their featured winery poured her a small glass of pinot noir. And although she usually didn’t indulge in wine before dinner, she hung her cane on her arm and took it with thanks.
    Harold kept his voice low. “They are all fools. Especially her.”
    “You don’t even know what she was talking about.” Margaret took a sip and grimaced. The floral notes were not to her taste.
    “I have a good idea. She was asking questions earlier.” Harold Ridley was tall and gaunt, a Vietnam vet who’d lost his leg to a grenade. He’d been unemployable, alcoholic and drug-addicted, until she’d picked him off the street and given him a chance. He’d been ready for that chance; he’d cleaned up his act and been her manager for thirty years.
    “I wish…” She paused, startled and confused, and stared at the rocking chairs.
    They were rocking by themselves.
    The resort shivered, as if the old building felt a chill wind. The deck bucked beneath her feet. She stumbled against the table, dropped her glass. It shattered, sending red streamers of wine flying through the air.
    What reason? Why?
    Her panicked mind immediately seized on her greatest fear.
    Stroke!
    She couldn’t get her balance. She was hallucinating. She must have suffered a stroke.
    What other explanation could there be?
    Yet it wasn’t merely her glass that broke. The glasses on the table, the open bottles, flew into the air, creating a havoc of shards and red wine and white wine.
    Someone shouted, “Earthquake!”
    Margaret sagged with selfish relief. It wasn’t her old system betraying her. She wasn’t yet condemned to lie in a bed, drooling and helpless, until the Grim Reaper came to take her to her reward.
    This was merely an earthquake.
    She—and the resort—had lived through them before …
    The earth gave a giant shrug, rolled, and rolled again.
    Harold caught Margaret’s arm to steady her. Then he stumbled away, staggering on his artificial leg, driven by the power of the buckling earth.
    She needed to herd her guests inside, to follow the well-rehearsed program for earthquake survival. But her staff had never rehearsed for this. No one had ever imagined this , an earthquake so massive the inn rose and fell like a ship in a storm off the North Sea, sending the staff and guests lurching, slamming against the sturdy outdoor iron furniture.
    The resort groaned and complained at the unnatural stresses put on the structure, but oddly, the guests were wide-eyed, in shock, and preternaturally quiet.
    And the earthquake went on. And on. Never in all of Margaret’s long years on the coast had she experienced anything so violent, so extended, so terrifying.
    Still holding the table, she turned and shouted, “Inside! Stay calm and get inside!”
    White-faced and paralyzed with terror, the guests stared at her.
    But she had already established her authority over them and the situation. She gestured.
    They headed toward the open French