Spring Creek Bride. Janice Thompson. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Janice Thompson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Historical
Жанр произведения: Историческая литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408937792
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      Ida couldn’t seem to move.

      In fact, she could scarcely breathe as she took him in. Funny, standing here in this close proximity, he didn’t look like the criminal sort at all. But you could never tell with wolves, especially those so carefully disguised. She was a strong woman. She could overlook his attractions with little trouble.

      Couldn’t she?

      “I don’t believe we’ve officially met,” Mick said.

      “I know who you are, Mr. Bradley,” Ida replied.

      “And you are?” he asked, extending his hand.

      Ida didn’t want to answer his question, and yet her hand clasped his and her mouth spoke the words. “Ida Mueller.”

      “It’s a real pleasure, Miss Mueller,” he said, tipping his hat and holding on to her hand. For a moment, she was lost in his gray eyes, until Sophie cleared her throat, reminding Ida of her manners.

      She quickly removed her hand from his.

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      JANICE THOMPSON

      is a Christian freelance author and a native Texan. She resides in Spring, Texas, near her grown children and infant granddaughters. Her family is active in ministry, primarily writing, music, drama and evangelism. Janice started penning books at a young age, and was blessed to have a screenplay produced in the early 80s. From there, she went on to write several large-scale musicals. Currently, she has published more than thirty full-length novels and nonfiction books (most lighthearted and/or wedding themed). She’s thankful for her calling as an author of Christian fiction and knows the Lord has brought her to this point so that she can present stories that will change people’s lives. Romances come naturally to Janice, since she’s coordinated nearly a dozen weddings, including recent ceremonies and receptions for all four of her daughters.

      Janice Thompson

      Spring Creek Bride

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Who knows whether you have come to

       the kingdom for such a time as this?

      —Esther 4:14

      In memory of my father, Billy Hanna—

       a small-town man with a big-as-Texas heart.

      Acknowledgments

      To my agent, Chip MacGregor: You are a godsend. Thanks for believing in me and special thanks for finding just the right house for this story.

      To Krista Stroever: Thank you so much for the opportunity to write for Steeple Hill Books. You helped make a long-term dream come true. I appreciate your patience with the process. You’re a true mentor.

      To Louise Rozett, my line editor: Thanks for the spit-shine. You walked me through my first copy edit at a new company, and I’m so grateful.

      To my wonderful critique partners, Kathleen Y’Barbo, Martha Rogers, Marcia Gruver and Linda Kozar: Thanks for falling in love with my hometown of Spring, Texas, with me! Here’s to lunch at Wunsche Brothers Café! Let’s meet there again…soon!

      To the people of Spring, Texas (past and present): You have left your mark on my soul.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Chapter Twenty-Three

      Chapter Twenty-Four

      Chapter Twenty-Five

      Chapter Twenty-Six

      Chapter Twenty-Seven

      Chapter Twenty-Eight

      Chapter Twenty-Nine

      Chapter Thirty

      Chapter Thirty-One

      Chapter Thirty-Two

      Chapter Thirty-Three

      Epilogue

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      Spring Creek, Texas, 1902

      Ida Mueller pressed a lock of unruly hair behind her ear and rounded the large dining table with a chipped serving bowl in hand. Chair legs scraped against the wood-planked floor as the rowdy lumber-mill workers rushed to sit down for another one of her home-cooked meals. She couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm.

      “Smells good enough to eat!” one of the younger fellows joked.

      Ida plopped a spoonful of crisp fried potatoes onto his plate and kept moving as she responded. “You’ve eaten at my table every day for nearly a year, Carl Walken, and you haven’t found reason to complain yet.” She reached up with the back of her hand and wiped a bit of perspiration from her brow.

      His eyebrows lifted mischievously. “Ain’t just the food keeps me coming back.” A playful wink followed.

      “Ya reckon?” Another of the men elbowed him.

      Several of the fellows let out whistles and Ida felt her cheeks turn warm. She scurried to the opposite side of the room and continued on with the chore of feeding the work crew, trying to ignore their usual flirtatious ways.

      “None of that now.” Her father’s stern voice rang out from the head of the table. He always knew how to keep his men in line, especially when it came to his daughter.

      “Aw, Mr. Mueller,” one of the fellows groaned. “You never let us have any fun.”

      “Better mind your p’s and q’s,” Ida quipped. “I’ve got a platter of Wiener schnitzel in the kitchen, but I’ve half a mind not to serve it.”

      The