Bride Of Dreams. Linda Wisdom Randall
right now I feel like a bug under a microscope. There’s a table across from us where some older ladies are sitting, and they’re watching us,” she whispered.
Cooper shifted in his chair as if he was making himself more comfortable, but so he could also see who Caroline was talking about. He muttered a curse when he saw them. “Have you heard of the Tyler Quilting Circle?” he asked.
She nodded. “Of course. The ladies at Worthington House who get together a couple times a week to work on quilts. They recently donated one for a raffle for the children’s library.”
“That’s the one. When you’re talking about people who are genuinely interested in you, you’re really talking about them. They can get information the FBI wouldn’t have a prayer of finding out,” he replied. He wasn’t about to tell her about the legend of the Quilting Circle’s quilts. He wasn’t the only man who believed telling the legend could make it true. For him.
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