The Most Famous Illegal Goose Creek Parade

BOOK: The Most Famous Illegal Goose Creek Parade
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Books by Virginia Smith

T
ALES FROM THE
G
OOSE
C
REEK
B & B

Dr. Horatio vs. the Six-Toed Cat

(prequel)

B
OOK
1 —
The Most Famous Illegal Goose Creek Parade

B
OOK
2 —
Renovating the Richardsons

B
OOK
3 —
The Room with the Second-Best View

Books by Lori Copeland and Virginia Smith

T
HE
A
MISH OF
A
PPLE
G
ROVE

“A Home in the West”

(free short story e-romance prequel)

B
OOK
1 —
The Heart's Frontier

B
OOK
2 —
A Plain and Simple Heart

B
OOK
3 —
A Cowboy at Heart

S
EATTLE
B
RIDES

B
OOK
1 —
A Bride for Noah

B
OOK
2 —
Rainy Day Dreams

HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS

EUGENE, OREGON

Published in association with the Books & Such Management, 52 Mission Circle, Suite 122, PMB 170, Santa Rosa, CA 95409-5370,
www.booksandsuch.com.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover by Garborg Design Works, Savage, Minnesota

Cover illustration and photo © Pink Pueblo, Vlue / Bigstock

THE MOST FAMOUS ILLEGAL GOOSE CREEK PARADE

Copyright © 2015 Virginia Smith

Published by Harvest House Publishers

Eugene, Oregon 97402

www.harvesthousepublishers.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Smith, Virginia, 1960-

The most famous illegal Goose Creek parade / Virginia Smith.

pages ; cm.—(Tales from the Goose Creek B&B ; Book 1)

ISBN 978-0-7369-6477-7 (pbk.)

ISBN 978-0-7369-6478-4 (eBook)

1. City and town life—Kentucy—Fiction. 2. Bed and breakfast accommodations—Fiction. I. Title.

PS3619.M5956M67 2015

813'.6—dc23

2014047114

All rights reserved.
No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author's and publisher's rights is strictly prohibited.

Contents

Books by Virginia Smith

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Mother Richardson's Lemon Cake

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Millie's Mini Vanilla Scone Recipe

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Creating a Healthy Crabitat

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Dog Cookies

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Millie's Chewy Chocolate Cookies

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Acknowledgments

Dr. Horatio vs. the Six-Toed Cat

Renovating the Richardsons

The Room with the Second-Best View

Read More from Virginia Smith

About the Publisher

Chapter One

O
h, Albert, isn't it lovely?”

Al tore his gaze from the towering monstrosity before him to cast a disbelieving stare at his wife. Hands folded beneath her chin as if in rapturous prayer, Millie's eyes sparkled. She gazed at the house as if she'd just caught sight of Buckingham Palace. He glanced back at the colossal three-story structure looming on the horizon across a stretch of neglected lawn the size of a football field. In fact, the house did have a castle-like look about it, with that round tower spiraling upward from a disturbingly asymmetrical roof.

The weather had finally turned mild after a brutal Kentucky winter, and they'd been able to resume the pleasant habit of an evening stroll after supper. The slight breeze that ruffled Al's hair—he must remember to stop by Fred's for a trim this weekend—still held a chill, but nothing like the icy blasts that had persisted all the way through the second week of March. Al preferred their regular route, which took them down Goose Creek's picturesque Main Street, but tonight Millie had wanted to walk through the town's oldest neighborhood to see if she could spot any blossoming jonquils. They spied sprouts aplenty, clusters of narrow green leaves with slender stalks straining skyward to catch the last rays of evening sunlight, but the blossoms were still tightly cocooned within their protective wrappings. Kind of like Al. He huddled deeper within the collar of his heavy jacket and looked again at the house.

Millie seemed to be waiting, so he ventured an answer. “It's the old Updyke place.”

A completely unenlightened comment, but a cautious one. Thirty-six years of marriage had taught him a few things. Until he uncovered the reason for that gleam in his wife's eye, the wisest course was to stick with stating the obvious.

She ignored him, as she was apt to do when concocting an idea in that brain of hers. “Look at the gables, all those charming levels of the roof. And the chimneys. And that bay window! It's absolutely gorgeous.”

He cocked his head to change his angle of inspection. Under no definition of the word would he call a broken, boarded-up window
gorgeous.
“Be expensive to replace that curved glass. Probably a special order.”

“And you know there's a verandah in the back. It overlooks the lake.”

The faint sound of alarms began clanging in the recesses of Al's brain. Surely this conversation wasn't headed where he feared. “It's not a lake, it's a pond. Probably covered in scum. Water draws skeeters,” he cautioned. “And gnats.”

She dismissed his warning by waving a set of pink manicured fingernails in his direction. “That's what screens are for. That verandah could be screened in easily, and think how peaceful it would be to look at the water over coffee in the mornings. I'll bet there are geese or ducks or something. We could be like Katharine Hepburn and Henry Fonda in
On Golden Pond.

The volume of the alarms rose in his inner ears. Now she was imagining herself in that disaster of a house. Al didn't like the way this conversation was going, not one bit. “Those shingles are in bad shape. Bet they leak. Probably water damage inside. I can't even imagine how much it would cost to put a roof on that place.”

A faint nod in answer told him she was barely listening. He added a note of sternness to his tone.

“And I'd be afraid to step onto that porch. Looks like it might collapse. No telling what shape the rest of the house is in after sitting empty for so long. Must be ten years since the Updykes left.”

“What a silly thing to say. It's perfectly safe.”

“How can you be sure? Nobody's been in that place in a decade.”

“Of course they have. Louise Gaitskill says the interior is in wonderful shape considering the house is over a hundred years old.”

The ringing in his ears became a claxon. Louise Gaitskill was not one of Millie's circle of friends. To his knowledge they didn't know each other well enough to enter into a casual chat about a deserted Victorian eyesore like this house. But a professional conversation?

Louise Gaitskill was a realtor.

He whirled to study his wife head-on through narrowed lids. “What are you getting at, Mildred Richardson? Out with it.”

A wistful smile twitched at the corners of her lips. “Only that I've loved this house since I was a girl. I went to a birthday party there once. We ate cupcakes out on the verandah and played croquet.” A quiet sigh escaped her lips. “I used to wonder what it was like to be rich and live in an elegant house like this one.” She did not meet his eye but continued to stare at the house. “And I happened to hear that the Updyke brothers have finally agreed to sell it.”

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