Quilt Trip: A Southern Quilting Mystery by Elizabeth Craig Page A

voice. “Which, according to Beatrice, is a total possibility.”
    “I think I’ll run breakfast up to her,” said Meadow. “Was she awake when you came down, Holly?”
    “No, she sure wasn’t. She didn’t stir at all, not even when I left.”
    Beatrice’s breath caught in her throat.
    Meadow didn’t seem at all concerned. “Well, it’s been a while now. Surely she’s up by now. I’ll bring her up a plate . . . She’ll be wanting hearty food on a cold morning like this.”
    Unless she was dead, thought Beatrice grimly. “I’ll go with you, Meadow.”
    Meadow raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Don’t bother. I’ve got it, Beatrice. You haven’t even finished your salmon and grits.”
    “Well, I’ve . . . I’ve got to go upstairs anyway.”
    “There’s a restroom downstairs, you know,” Meadow said helpfully.
    “Yes. Thank you. I do know that. Look, I’m going to come upstairs.”
    “Suit yourself.” Meadow glared at her.
    As they headed up the stairs, Meadow said, “What was that all about?”
    “It just occurred to me that Dot Giles might not have a pulse, Meadow. That’s all,” Beatrice said with asperity. She tried to keep her voice low since voices definitely carried in the drafty old house.
    Meadow tripped up a step. “Ohh. Really? Do you think so?”
    “No, I don’t
think
so, but I wanted to make sure for myself that it wasn’t the case.”
    When they reached the top of the stairs, Meadow paused and said, “Well, she’s not the only one who didn’t come downstairs, you know. There were others. It’s not like there’s anything else to do around here—I guess people decided they may as well sleep in.”
    “Who else? Who else didn’t come down for breakfast?”
    “Let’s see. I’m sure Miss Sissy didn’t. She’d have eaten those grits before you’d had a chance to complain about them.”
    That was true. “Anybody else?”
    “Colton,” said Meadow. “But then, I guess he did say he was really tired before he turned in last night. He went to bed really early, Beatrice.”
    “So shouldn’t he already be up?” asked Beatrice.
    Meadow nodded slowly. “So we should check on Miss Sissy and Colton, then?”
    “After we’ve checked on Dot Giles.”
    Beatrice gently tapped on Dot’s door. She felt tremendous relief when Dot called out in a sleepy voice, “Come in.”
    “We’ve brought you breakfast, Dot,” Meadow said cheerily. “Hot grits! But you have to eat them now or they’ll be cold grits, which is somewhat less appealing.”
    Dot grinned at her and struggled to push herself up in the bed. “Cold or hot, I’m a grits fan. Can’t go wrong with grits.”
    Meadow said, “If only these were my favorite grits. Garlic cheese grits! But I couldn’t find any garlic and the cheese Muriel had in the fridge was a bit moldy. So I gave up on the idea.”
    Beatrice cleared her throat. “Sorry we woke you up, Dot. We were also checking in to make sure you’re okay.”
    “Oh, I’m not at all upset that you woke me up,” Dot said. “It’s so bright outside that I must have really slept in. I guess I was even more worn out than I thought I was.”
    “Having an accident can take it out of you,” said Meadow.
    “How do you feel now?” asked Beatrice.
    Dot considered the question, gingerly moving her leg around. “I think it’s a little less sensitive than it was last night.”
    “But you’re not putting any pressure on it,” said Meadow. “The real test will be when you try walking on it.”
    Beatrice shifted restlessly, thinking about Miss Sissy and Colton. “Meadow, why don’t we go ahead and leave Dot to her breakfast?”
    Meadow glanced quickly over at her. “Good idea. Enjoy, Dot!”
    They gently closed the door behind them. Beatrice said quietly, “Thank goodness she’s okay. I was really worried about her when Holly said she didn’t stir this morning.”
    “I know. But like I said, when you hurt yourself, just dealing with the pain