Invisible Increase - Lift the side leg of the stitch below the stitch that is now on your right needle. Knit that loop. (do not lift the bar between the stitches to make this increase.)
Pattern:
CO – ten (10) stitches using a long tail cast on
Knit every stitch and every row for fifteen (15) rows. Slip the first stitch of each row as if to purl and you will have a nice edge that makes for easy stitch pick-up later on.
You will now have a garter stitch square.
Now you will pick-up stitches around the square to begin the knitting in the round.
You have ten (10) sts on one needle (needle #1)
Now on each side of the square, pick-up six (6) stitches. (needles #2&4)
On the side opposite needle #1 (needle #3) pick-up ten (10) sts.
Now you have one (1) square with a needle on each of the four sides.
Now you begin at needle #1 and start knitting in the round – you are always working on the front side.
Knit one round (knit every stitch on every needle until you are back at needle #1) Place your stitch marker between the last stitch of row #4 and the first stitch of row #1. This will help you keep track of where you are in the process.
Round 1 –*k1, M1, knit to the end of the needle.* Repeat from *-* on all four (4) needles.
Round 2 – knit one complete round on all four (4) needles
Round 3 – *Knit to the last stitch, M1, knit last stitch.* Repeat from *-* on all four (4) needles.
Round 4 - Repeat Round 2 (you should now have 40sts.)
Round 5 – Repeat Round 1
Round 6 – Repeat Round 2
Round 7 – Repeat Round 3 (you should now have 52sts.)
Rounds 8-19 – Repeat Round 2
Brim:
Starting back at needle #1 (do not count needles at this point, but full rounds.)
Round 1: k1, p1 (this is a basic rib stitch)
Rounds 2-5: Follow Round 1 remembering to knit the knit stitches and purl the purl stitches.
BOIP – This bind off is worked in pattern using the basic bind off.
k1, p1 – *then with these two stitches on the right needle, pass the right stitch over the left stitch and off the end of the needle.*
Work the next stitch in pattern and follow from *-*. Work in this manner around all four needles until you have one loop left on one needle. Snip about a 6 inch tail of yarn and pass that yarn through the last loop, pulling it closed.
With your tapestry needle weave in the yarn tails.
Viola! You’ve made your first hat All Around the Square.
Tide to Atonement
Book 2, Pawleys Island Paradise
By Laurie Larsen,
EPIC Award-winning author of Preacher Man
COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Laurie Larsen
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
All Content by author Laurie Larsen
Cover Art by Steven Novak
Published by Random Moon Books
Published in the United States of America
License Statement
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Life knocked him down. Faith lifted him up.
Jeremy Harrison served his time — ten years in prison paid his debt to society for bad business practices. Now released, his plan for rehabilitation is clear: put his faith in God, work hard and put his past mistakes behind him. The last thing he wants is to be featured in a magazine article about ex-cons who successfully re-acclimated into society. Worse still, the gorgeous reporter takes an instant dislike to him.
Emma Jean Slotky knows that one of the interviewee names in her new magazine article assignment sounds familiar. Her dad helps her figure out why — Jeremy Harrison was responsible for the destruction of his employer and ultimately, Emma's family, all those years ago. How can Emma possibly face the man who ruined her family with professionalism, and not disappoint her boss?
As Jeremy works to redeem himself in his new life, acts of sabotage plague his fledgling custom-made furniture business. He and Emma discover growing feelings for each other, but how can their relationship blossom with such a dubious foundation? As pressures mount, an innocent life is put in danger and the two must work together to find the person responsible in time to prevent disaster.
Chapter One
Jeremy Harrison was in the zone. He laid one last swipe of his brush across the top surface, then took a step back to study his latest creation. A homey shade of blonde maple, the dresser reached slightly over waist-high — at least, to a six-foot-two body like himself. It was his latest design, the “his and her” model, a column of five drawers on each side, separated by an open armoire-style cabinet. The stain was complete. Now, to soak in for a day or possibly two, to allow the high sheen to be brushed with fingertips without danger of leaving prints. After that, he'd check the drawers and make sure they rolled in and out smoothly with no sticks. Then he'd choose handles — brass? No, something more burnished.
He absentmindedly rubbed a hand over his lips, then spit out the taste of polyurethane. Searching for a clean cloth, he lifted his feet high, careful not to knock over any cans of thick liquid, the finishing tools of his trade.
A distant sound wormed into his consciousness. Buzzing, sort of like a mosquito or an angry pack of them. Infuriating in its persistence. Sounded like an alarm. Had he set …?
“Well, dang it!” He ran off the canvas tarp laid in his backyard that he called his work space and into the house through the backdoor. The timer on the microwave was buzzing away and after a quick study, Jeremy realized it had been sounding for at least four, five minutes. He turned it off. He'd set it this morning, knowing he'd get wrapped up in furniture-making and lose track of time — he always did. And normally, that was good. But not today.
Today he had an important appointment in town he couldn't miss. Miss? Heck, no, he couldn't even be late. He hustled to the bathroom at the back of the tiny house and shucked off his sweatshirt, boots and jeans. Jumping into the shower, he emerged two minutes later, dried with a towel, and raced into his bedroom. A quick study of his closet had him pulling out a pair of khaki pants and a button-down light blue shirt. Didn't take much study. There weren't that many choices in there anyway.
Who needed a Wall Street wardrobe when you lived in a beach town in rural South Carolina?
Dressed now, he swung back to the bathroom and made a quick swipe of his hand over his jaw. Shave? His eyes lighted on the digital alarm clock on the counter. Nah, no time. He'd shaved sometime in the last, what, three days? Neil wouldn't mind.
Passing through the kitchen, he peered out the window for a glance at the dresser in the backyard. He shifted his gaze to the sky. No rain in the forecast, nothing but sun expected today. The dresser would be fine.
He raced out the front door and jumped into his truck. These monthly meetings were part of his life now, and he best learn to accept them. At least he'd moved to monthly from weekly. That was one thing to be thankful for.
And one meeting a month with Neil was a heck of lot better than where he came from.
* * *
He didn't mean for his t
ruck tires to squeal as he maneuvered into a parking space. But tardiness was frowned upon and he was cutting it close. He jumped out of the old pickup and took a cleansing breath, lowered his shoulders and walked intentionally.
The County Courthouse in Georgetown was a mere eleven miles from his home on Pawleys Island, but tourist traffic being so erratic, he'd settled into the habit of allowing at least forty minutes for the drive. Now that tourist season was over and autumn had made residence, he didn't need the full timeframe, but as Neil had taught him, it was better to be prepared. Early was always better than late.
Screvens Street sparkled today with the sun glittering off the scrubbed sidewalks and immaculate brick buildings. At the center of them all stood the courthouse, a Pawleys Island historic landmark. It was a pastel yellow and white wooden building with six impressive pillars adorning the second floor balcony. In order to reach that level, Jeremy had the choice of identical closed stairways on the right or left of the building that circled up and met at the front door.
His visits to this landmark had become so routine that he barely noticed the grandeur today. He trotted up the stairs, entered the building, walked to the Probation Office at the back of the third floor, gave his name to the receptionist and sat in a folding chair in the waiting room, amidst about a dozen other offenders. He was twelve minutes early.
He lowered his head to examine his shoes. No eye contact with those seated around him, that was something he learned during his decade in prison. Mind your own business. Keep to yourself. There was no telling when you might see something or hear something you would be asked about, just because you had your head up, curiously looking around. Not worth it.
“Hey, man.” The voice came from the chair beside him. He swiveled his head and recognized a guy who'd spent a few of his last months with him in Columbia at the pre-release center. He scanned his brain for a name but couldn't come up with one.
“Hey.” He nodded at the man, dressed in a similar outfit as his — neat-looking khakis and a button-down shirt. This man had sneakers and white athletic socks on though, instead of dress shoes like Jeremy's. Heck, it didn't matter. The ex-con was making an effort. Scraping up extra money for luxuries like leather shoes when the only time you wore them was to your probation appointments, took time. “How you doin'?”
“Good, good.” He was nervous, Jeremy could tell. He sat hunched, his shoulders rounded, and rubbed his palms briskly together, creating an uncomfortable slipping sound. “Trying to find a job. Ain't easy.”
“No. No, it's not.” One of the court's requirements, hold gainful employment. You had to report on your job-hunt attempts at every appointment. Among other things. Drug testing, community service.
The man sighed, his manic tension cutting through Jeremy's calm façade, making him feel nervous, too. Jeremy turned his head and tried to create an invisible wall between them. He didn't mind helping, but he needed to stay calm, serene. That was the name of the game with this process.
“I'll do anything, man. I've tried getting the most menial jobs. Fry cook, bus boy, bag boy at the grocery store. They just don't want me. I'm dying here.”
Jeremy squeezed his eyes to the desperation in the guy's voice. There were consequences to not meeting the court's probation requirements. He himself hadn't had to serve them, thank God. But you had to keep your nose clean. Don't stand out. Follow the rules, as best you can.
“Sorry, man. Keep looking. Ask your officer for a hand. Maybe he could make some calls for you.”
The man wiggled in his chair. “What about you? You working? What're you doin'?”
Jeremy exhaled. “I'm trying to start up my own business.”
“Oh yeah?” The man looked over at him with interest and in Jeremy's opinion, leaned a little too close. “Doin' what? You wanna hire me?”
Jeremy let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “Nobody on the payroll. I'm barely making ends meet. But doin' what I love. Wood working. I make furniture.”
“Oh.” The man turned away, to Jeremy's relief. “I don't do nothing like that. I wonder if I could start my own business. Might be the only choice I have left.”
“Harrison.”
Jeremy looked up, glad to be called. “Good luck, man.” The man nodded as Jeremy checked in with the receptionist. Jeremy said a quick silent prayer, not even fully formed thoughts and words – just a sincere sentiment to God: help this man, help get him on his feet.
“You can go on back to Neil's office.”
Jeremy nodded and headed back.
The word “office” was a stretch, but hey, who was he to judge? He edged into Neil's closet-sized room stuffed full with a desk, Neil's chair, two facing chairs and a filing cabinet. A few framed certificates scattered across the walls, but Neil didn't seem to be much into decorating. Stacks of files littered his desktop and the man himself was so big, he dwarfed everything around him.
Neil had been Jeremy's parole officer since he'd been released towards the end of the summer. He'd quickly recognized Neil as an advocate to help him adjust to life in the free world. Neil had high expectations and held him accountable for his behavior, but he made the rules clear and praised Jeremy when he saw results. That was fine with Jeremy. He never should've made the mistakes that had landed him in prison anyway and after serving his sentence, all he wanted now was to get his life back on track. He understood the odds stacked against him — he'd earned every single one. But by following the rules, he'd get there.
One step at a time.
Neil was bent at the waist, his powerful lineman's body folded in half in his chair as he tried to get a closer look at something under his desk. They had talked once or twice about his college career at Clemson. Football had never been Jeremy's sport, but he could certainly see how Neil would intimidate the defenders lined up across from him before the whistle blew. But inside that monstrous body and competitive scowl was the heart of a saint.
Jeremy waited in the doorway. Neil mumbled, sounding frustrated. “Can I help you find something?” Jeremy ventured.
Neil straightened at the sound and banged his head on the partially-opened desk drawer. “Dang!” the big African-American man eked out in pain.
Jeremy scooted around a chair and over a box of papers sitting on the floor, trying to get closer. “I'm sorry. Did I surprise you?” He reached out a hand toward the big man.
Neil was rubbed his aching head, distracted, a smile playing on his face. “When do I move out of this cubicle into a space befitting my size and accomplishments? That's what I want to know.”
Jeremy smiled, thankful that he was cracking jokes.
“Can you reach that business card on the floor there?” Neil asked, pointing.
Jeremy leaned, reached, picked it up, handed it to Neil.
“No, it's for you. Keep it.”
Jeremy frowned at the card. “Seminal Magazine?”
“Yeah. Have a seat.”
Jeremy made his way back to his chair and did as he was told. He waited for explanation, knowing it was coming.
“Do you know what the word seminal means, Jeremy?” Neil slid into his own chair, folded his hands on top of his desk and focused on Jeremy.
Jeremy took a breath. He was never good at English, had a horrible vocabulary. Books were never really his thing, he was always good with his hands. “Ummm …”
Neil shook his head. “No matter.” He reached under a stack of files and pulled out a thick book — a dictionary. He handed it to Jeremy.
Jeremy flipped pages till he located the word. “Influential, formative, pivotal, inspiring.”
“Good.” Neil held a palm up and Jeremy handed the dictionary back. “Nice name for a magazine, huh?”
Jeremy nodded cautiously, wondering what this had to do with him.
Neil continued, “I got a call from them last week. They like to do stories about people who display some of those words you read. Pivotal, inspiring. Ground-breaking. Me and the editor talked over some story ideas. Turn
s out they want to do a feature on some of our success stories.”
Jeremy fidgeted, not liking where this was going.
“I told the lady some of our Values Statements. You know all those. You memorized them a few months ago.”
Jeremy nodded, hoping to God Neil wasn't going to call on him to recite them.
“Promoting and maintaining a safe community. Treating people with dignity and respect.” Neil leaned back in his chair, let his eyes roll thoughtfully to the ceiling. “What are some others?”
Jeremy sighed, the small card now digging into his palm. “Uh, the ability of offenders to change.”
“Yes! That's a good one.” Neil's smile formed, white teeth amidst dark complexion. “What else?”
Jeremy could come up with one more, so he hoped that was the last one Neil was after. “The relationship between staff and client can have a profound impact on successful outcomes.”
“You got it. I knew you would.”
That was one of the things Jeremy liked about Neil. He was genuinely happy when one of his caseload succeeded. The man could scare the crap out of him, and had on several occasions, but he was not without his virtues.
“So, I shared those values with her, and all the rest …,” he pointed to the framed paper hanging on the wall behind him. Jeremy swore to himself. They were right there, behind Neil's head! “…and she asked me if I had any success stories she could interview and feature in an article about Georgetown County.”
Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3 Page 26