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Montana Love Letter Page 19


  “Oh?” Puzzled, she tried to read his expression and got nowhere. “I’m leaving the girls here. I should be back soon. Is that okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll keep an eye out. Better than I did last time.” He handed her an envelope.

  The exterior was blank. No name on it. “What’s this?”

  His gaze skittered away. “It’s a note.”

  She started to open the envelope.

  “You don’t have to read it now. Maybe when you get to Sharon’s office.”

  How odd. The contents of the envelope didn’t feel thick. A single piece of paper. Why did he want her to wait? she wondered.

  He opened the car door for her. Filled with curiosity about the letter, she slid inside. He closed the door after her and stepped away. What in the world was he up to?

  Realizing she wasn’t going to get an answer from Adam, or until she opened the envelope, she turned the key in the ignition, shifted into gear and drove out onto the highway. Traffic was light through town, although she noticed the parking lot at Pine Tree Diner was filled with cars. She still hadn’t had a chance to try their potato pancakes. Maybe this weekend.

  Sharon’s car was parked in the Lake Country Real Estate lot when she arrived. Janelle pulled in next to it.

  With a few minutes left before her appointment, Janelle decided to satisfy her curiosity. She ripped open the envelope and unfolded the single piece of white paper inside.

  She drew in a quick breath as she read.

  Dere Janie. Befor u buy a hous I need to tel u how I feel.

  She placed her hand over her heart as though to slow its rapid pounding. His handwriting was no better than Raeanne’s. His spelling was atrocious. But there was no doubt about it. Adam Hunter, who struggled to read and write at all, had written her a love letter.

  I no I am just a mechanic an u ar smart an butiful. But no man could luv you more. I luv the way yor hair brushes yor sholders. I luv yor smil an the way u look at Rae with so much luv. I luv the sound of yor laufter.

  Tears began to creep down Janelle’s cheeks and drop on the note. She dragged in a shaky breath.

  I luvd u when u fel out of the boat and could still laf.

  An unexpected laugh escaped between her tears.

  Most of al I luv al of u. I want to mary u and luv u the rest of my lif.

  Adam.

  P.S. I luv Rae to an want to be her daddy.

  Janelle covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob. “I love you, too, Adam. With all my heart.” Her voice shook.

  Wiping her eyes, she started the car and wheeled out of the parking lot. She picked up her cell and punched in Sharon’s number. Briefly she told the Realtor she wouldn’t be making an offer on the house after all, promising to explain later.

  She’d vowed not to get involved with another man until she’d gotten her own life and Raeanne’s together. Apparently, her heart—and the Lord—had decided otherwise. There was nothing more she wanted than to marry Adam and share her life with him and the two beautiful girls they both loved.

  Within minutes she was back home at the garage. She’d barely brought the car to a stop when she leaped out and ran into the garage.

  “Adam!”

  He looked up from his work in time to catch her when she flew into his arms.

  She kissed him and held him. “I love you, Adam. With every ounce of my being, I love you and always will.”

  A smile tilted one corner of his lips. “My letter worked?”

  “Oh, yes! Yes! I’ve been praying and hoping and wanting—”

  “Then you’ll marry me?”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying. Yes, I’ll marry you. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Adam Hunter.”

  “You changed your mind about getting your own place, starting over?”

  “The only way I want to start over is with you.”

  He kissed her then, full on her lips, and her heart soared.

  After what seemed like a delicious eternity, she broke the kiss. “There are a few things I have to tell you, though.”

  He cocked a brow.

  “First of all, I never want to hear you refer to yourself as just a mechanic. You’re a wonderful, wonderful mechanic who can fix anything on wheels, and everyone in town knows it.”

  “Okay.” He grinned. “I can accept that.”

  “Furthermore I don’t want you to change. I apologize for backing you into a corner and forcing you to learn how to read. Whether you can read or not, I love you exactly as you are. Exactly the way God made you. With all your goodness and loving heart and your dyslexia.”

  “That’s good. But those internet lessons are helping. I’m reading better.”

  “I know. And I love you for that, too.”

  “Will you love me when I’m old and bald?”

  She laughed a joyous sound. “Absolutely. Will you love me when I’m old and fat?”

  “There’d be all the more of you to love, then.”

  He tugged her closer and she held on to him with all her strength and all the love she felt for him.

  Behind them, Vern cleared his throat. “Guess you’re too busy to take care of Mr. Rashmere’s transmission right now.”

  A flush burned Janelle’s cheeks. She tried to step away from Adam, but he kept his arms around her.

  “You take care of Rashmere, Vern. We’ve got something else we have to do.”

  She gave him a questioning look.

  “Let’s go tell the girls. I think this news is exactly the thing to lift their spirits.”

  Janelle agreed. “You think it’s okay if I use your address when I enroll Raeanne in kindergarten? Even though we’re not married yet.”

  “It’s our address,” he emphasized. “All four of us. And you can be sure you’ll be my wife as soon as I can get the preacher over here to do the deed.”

  She laughed. “Maybe we shouldn’t marry quite that fast. I imagine your parents would like to attend the service. And your brother.”

  “My mother would be here tomorrow if I told her we were getting married. Dad, too, if she had to drag him here.”

  Janelle imagined so. The thought of such loving parents becoming part of her life thrilled her and made her miss her mother and father all the more.

  But now she’d have a true family of her own.

  Arm in arm, they walked into the house to tell their two daughters that they were all going to be a family. A family filled with love, happiness and a shared future.

  Thank You, Lord, for leading me to this wonderful man.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of Montana Dreams by Jillian Hart!

  Dear Reader,

  Over the years our family has enjoyed many camping and fishing trips to Montana. (I admit I need a little remedial help with my fly-fishing technique and I really don’t look very stylish in waders.)

  I’m fortunate to be able to “return” to Montana through my writing and recall the lovely sunsets, glistening clear lakes, wild animals strolling along the roadside and the restorative scent of clean air and pine and fir trees. I hope you’ve enjoyed visiting some of those same experiences through this story.

  The hero of this book, Adam Hunter, has dyslexia. According to the International Dyslexia Association, as many as 15–20% of the population have some symptoms of dyslexia, including slow or inaccurate reading, poor spelling and writing, or mixing up similar words.

  For purposes of this story, I compressed Adam’s progress in learning to read as an adult. But there is help available for those who cannot read well, both online and through library and adult education programs.

  Above all, a person who has dyslexia should not feel ashamed of his or her disability. As Janelle, our heroine, says of Adam, “G
od made you that way.” An individual with reading problems can seek help to improve his or her reading skills without fear of blame or censure.

  Meanwhile, I wish you...happy reading!

  Charlotte Carter

  Questions for Discussion

  Did it surprise you that Janelle had moved away from her hometown after the death of her husband? Why or why not?

  If you had fallen in love with someone who could not read, would that have bothered you? Why or why not?

  Janelle and Adam’s first kiss took place in a public place. How would you have felt about that?

  Do you have friends or family members who are dyslexic? How do they cope with their dyslexia?

  Does your school district have a reading specialist who works with students with reading difficulties? If not, have you or others in the community supported an effort to fund such a position?

  What were your children’s favorite picture books when they were young? What were yours?

  Do you and your family enjoy camping and fishing? If so, where is your favorite spot to fish?

  Have you ever visited Glacier National Park? If so, what impressed you the most?

  What would it be like to live in a tourist town? Would you enjoy that?

  Do you know any blended families with his and her children? What adjustments have the families had to make to live together in harmony?

  Do you, or did you ever, sing in a church choir? What was that like?

  What effect do you think Janelle’s losing her parents before she was twenty had on her?

  What difficulties do single parents face when raising a child on their own? Does it make a difference if the child is young or an adolescent? Boy or girl?

  Have you ever written a love letter? Or received one? Have you saved those that you received?

  Adam and Janelle are mature adults. What age do you think is a good age to get married? Why?

  Do you think it would be easier for a single parent to raise a child of the same or opposite sex? Why?

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

  You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

  Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.

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  Chapter One

  “You always were good for nothing, girl.” Her father’s bitter voice grumbled through the small, unkempt house. “Get the lead out of your lazy butt and fetch me something to eat. I’m gettin’ hungry.”

  Millie Wilson straightened up, mop handle clutched in one hand, closed her eyes and prayed for strength. The Lord had to help her because she wasn’t sure she could do this without Him. The call in the middle of the night, a doctor’s voice on the other end of the line, her father’s collapse and terminal prognosis. If only there had been anyone—anyone at all—to take over his care. “I have to go to the market, Dad.”

  “You should have thought of that earlier,” he barked from the other room.

  And I came back, why? She swished the mop into the sudsy bucket, wrung it out and scoured the last patch of kitchen floor. Marginally better, but it was going to take more than one pass over. She didn’t want to think how long it had been since the floor had a proper cleaning—it would take a scrub brush and a lot of elbow grease to get out the dirt ground into the texture of the linoleum—a job for another time. Her back ached just thinking of it.

  “Millie?” A knock echoed above the hum of the air conditioner. A familiar face smiled in at her, visible through the pane of glass in the door. The foreman tipped his Stetson and rolled the tobacco around to his other cheek while he waited for her to open the door.

  “Hi, Milton. What’s up?” She squinted in the bright summer sun.

  “We got problems. Paychecks bounced. Again.” Milton paused a moment to gather his spit, turn aside and spew a stream of tobacco juice into the barren flower bed. “The boys aren’t going to stand for this. They’ve got rent due and mouths to feed.”

  “I know.” Why didn’t this surprise her either? She rubbed her forehead, which was beginning to pound. “I’m overwhelmed here. I haven’t even thought about Dad’s finances.”

  “They’re a shambles, that’s what.” Milton shook his head, his weathered face lined with a mixture of grief and disgust. “Work is scarce in this part of the county. No one wants to walk away from a job right now. I know Whip is sick, but if he doesn’t take care of his workers, then we can’t work for free. Those cows need to be milked no matter what.”

  “Give me a day to problem solve. Can you ask everyone to wait? I’m here now, I’ve been here for two hours. Let me figure out what’s what, and I’ll do everything I can to make good on those checks.”

  “We appreciate that, Millie. I know you’ll do your best by us, but I don’t know what the boys will go for.” Milton tipped his hat in a combination of thanks and farewell before he ambled toward the steps. “Keep in mind that if things don’t get better...”

  “I hear you.” Someone had to do the work, and it took a team of men to do it. As Milton headed off back down the driveway, Millie wondered if she remembered how to run a milking parlor. That part of her life seemed a world away, nearly forgotten. Probably intentionally.

  “Put ice cream on that list, girl, and get a move on.” In his room, Pa must have hit the remote because the soundtrack from a spaghetti Western drowned out every other noise in the house and kept her from arguing. The pop of gunfire and the drum of galloping horses accompanied her while she upended her mop bucket over the sink, stowed the meager cleaning supplies and made a mental grocery list.

  Time to blow this place. She grabbed her purse and the big ring of farm keys. She called out to her dad, not sure if he could hear her over the blaring television and hopped out the front door.

  “Mom.” Simon looked up, pushed his round glasses higher on his nose with a thumb and held out a handful of wildflowers. “I picked them for you.”

  “You did?” Just what she needed. One look at her nine-year-old son eased the strain of the tough last couple of hours. Love filled her heart like a tidal wave as the black-haired boy with deep blue eyes ran across a lawn that had gone wild. Blossoms danced in his fist as he held them up to her.

  Better than roses any day. “Thank you. They’re wonderful. I love them.”

  “I thought you needed something, you know, to make you smile.” He shrugged his shoulders, his button face puckered up with worry. “You’ve frowned the whole time, ever since you said we had to come here.”

  “Really? Oh, I didn’t mean to. Sorry about that, kiddo.” She took a moment to admire her bouquet of yellow sunflowers, snowy daisies, purple coneflowers and cheerful buttercups. “These certainly should do the trick. Am I smiling?”

  “Yeah. Much better.” When he grinned, deep dimples cut into his cheeks, so like his father’s that it drove straight to her heart.

  It was one pain that would never fade. She’d stopped trying to make it disappear years ago. There was just no use. Once, she’d loved Simon’s father with all the depth of her being. Losing him had shattered her. Ten years later and she still hadn’t found a way to make her heart whole.

  Being back home in this little corner of Montana made her wonder. Just how much would she remember—things she couldn’t hold back? She sighed, thinking of how young she’d been, of how truly she’d loved the
man and, yes, it hurt to remember. She ran a hand along her son’s cheek—such a sweet boy—and kept the smile on her face.

  Simon was what mattered now.

  “Guess what?” she asked. “I need a copilot.”

  “I’m on it.” Simon leaped ahead, dashing toward the old Ford pickup. “Where’re we goin’?”

  “To the grocery store, unless you want to eat stale crackers and dried-up peanut butter for supper.”

  “Not so much. Can we have pizza?” He yanked open the black truck’s door. The rusty old thing squeaked and groaned as he scrambled behind the steering wheel and across the ripped bench seat. “It could be the on-sale kind. Want me to see if we got a coupon?”

  “That would be a big help.”

  She eyed the truck warily. It had been a long time since she’d driven a pickup. Totally different from her compact car and she had to adjust the seat, the mirrors and dig for the seat belt—it was buried in the crumbs, hayseed and grain bits that had accumulated in the crack of the seat over what had to be decades.

  “I’m on it.” Simon slipped his hand into the outside pocket of her handbag, extracted an envelope and began sorting through her coupon collection. His forehead furrowed in concentration. His cowlick stood up straight from the crown of his head in a lazy swirl.

  Just like his father’s.

  Stop thinking about that man. She had enough to contend with without borrowing heartache. She refused to wonder what had happened to the man. The love she had for him was long dead and buried. Did he still live around here or had he moved? It wasn’t as if she’d kept in touch with anyone in the valley, so she’d never heard a scrap of the news since her father had thrown her out of the house when she was nineteen.