Montana Love Letter. Charlotte Carter

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ I stay here in Bear Lake, I would like to sing in the choir. But I haven’t left Raeanne alone since—”

      “Since your husband died?”

      She nodded.

      “I understand. It’s hard to adjust after you lose someone you love.”

      Even harder when it turned out the one you loved didn’t love you in return. Certainly not exclusively.

      * * *

      After a quick lunch, Adam went into the garage and sat down at his desk. He had to figure out this tax business before things got any worse. And they would get worse. He’d finally deciphered the letter from the IRS. He was expected to appear at a hearing just weeks away.

      Chances were good that if he didn’t have some answers by then the lien on the bank account would be the least of his worries. He’d be behind bars.

      He got out the paperwork and turned on his computer, pulling up his tax return. For a moment he stared at the monitor. The numbers swam across the screen like minnows fleeing a largemouth bass.

      He blinked and knuckled his eyes. When he looked again, the image of Janelle appeared superimposed over the tax return. Smiling at him. Her lips slightly parted. A hint of laughter in her eyes.

      An ache tightened in his chest, and a rush of wanting caught him by surprise.

      Shaking off the sensation, he chided himself for even thinking about Janelle. He had the IRS to worry about. The fact that she and her daughter seemed to fit so perfectly with him and Hailey wasn’t worth considering. He barely knew the woman. She had her own issues to work out, needed to make a home for her daughter. Needed to start over clean.

      No way would she want to get tangled up in his life.

      Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to drag out the stack of invoices from last year and his bank records. He’d start over, too. If he concentrated hard enough, he’d get it right this time. He picked up a pencil and found a lined notepad.

      He wasn’t a stupid guy. He could do this.

      Immediately his palms began to sweat. His fingers cramped around the pencil. Pain crept up the back of his neck. Just like it always had when he’d taken tests in school.

      But this time he couldn’t fake the answers.

      There was no question. He needed help.

      He could take this pile of gibberish to one of the

      Rotary guys who was a CPA, but then he’d have to explain why he couldn’t handle his own record-keeping.

      There were probably lots of accountants in Missoula or even Kalispell who could do the job for a fee. But in many ways, western Montana was one small community. Word would get back to Bear Lake.

      The heat of shame rose up his neck. He’d worked so hard, so many years, to keep his secret.

      Somehow he’d have to do it himself.

      He didn’t know how long he’d struggled trying to make sense of his records when he heard a light rapping on his open office door. He looked up to find Janelle smiling at him.

      “I’ve packed up our things and put them in your loaner car, so we’re about to leave. It’s almost three. We can check into the motel now.”

      “Oh, yeah.” He spun his chair around and stood. He tossed his pencil on the pile of invoices. Janelle was leaving and suddenly he didn’t want her to go. “I guess you’ll need the key, won’t you.”

      Her lips twitched. “I imagine it goes faster with the engine turned on.”

      “You could always ask Rae to push while you steer.”

      She laughed. “I’m sure she’d be willing to try, but I don’t think we’d get very far.” Her gaze skipped to his cluttered desk and the mess he’d made of things. “Looks like you’re having a bad bookkeeping day.”

      “Yeah, I am.” He tucked his fingertips into the pockets of his jeans. He didn’t think he’d ever had a good bookkeeping day. “Numbers just aren’t my thing. They make me crazy.”

      “Is there something I can help you with? We don’t have to be at the motel right at three o’clock.”

      “No, that’s—” He mentally stepped on the brakes. He had a problem and needed help. Janelle needed a part-time job and a place to stay while she house hunted. Maybe, just maybe...

      He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Look, I just had an idea. I’m sort of in trouble with the IRS. I messed up my tax return, I guess.” Big-time! “Maybe we could help each other out. You stay in the cottage for as long as you need to while you’re house hunting, and in your spare time you can straighten out the mess I’ve made with my taxes. I could pay you whatever you think is right.”

      Janelle’s jaw dropped. He was offering her a place to stay and a job?

      “I...I don’t know.” Her gaze fell on his desk. A chaos of paperwork covered the top, and one drawer was so full it couldn’t be closed. On some level that much disorder offended her sensibilities, and her fingers itched to straighten out the mess. Fix it.

      “You and Rae would be a lot more comfortable here than at the Pine Tree Inn,” he pointed out. “Not that it’s a bad motel. But here you have the run of the house. The lake’s right at your doorstep.” He shrugged as if it should be the easiest decision in the world.

      It should be, except that staying in such close proximity to Adam was far too tempting. “Isn’t there an accountant here in town?”

      “Sure there is.” He took a couple of steps toward her. His eyes looked tired, his hair mussed. “Except I don’t like everyone in town to know my business. You seem like someone who could keep stuff confidential.”

      She sensed there was more to his story than he was telling. “Just how much trouble are you in with the IRS?”

      He shifted his gaze to a couple of cars in the garage that were waiting for repair and cleared his throat. “They’ve put a lien on my bank accounts. There’s a hearing in a couple of weeks. If I don’t have my books in order by then...”

      He left the thought hanging, but Janelle knew that it would mean big problems for him. With fines and penalties, the problems could be big enough to bankrupt him. She wondered how he’d gotten himself into such a deep hole.

      “I only took one class in tax accounting in college, and that was years ago. Beyond that, I’ve done the family taxes and my husband’s business returns.” She eyed the paper maze on the desk again. Would she even be able to find the bottom of the pile? “I’m not all that experienced if you’ve got a complicated return.”

      He brought his gaze back to hers. “There are a couple of schedules for the business. Not much else. It shouldn’t be that hard. I’ve got one of those computer programs that’s supposed to do all the adding and stuff.”

      Then why couldn’t he do it himself? Because he’d established no sense of order? Or was he simply averse to dealing with the IRS?

СКАЧАТЬ