Montana Hearts. Charlotte Carter

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      And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.

      But the greatest of these is love.

      —1 Corinthians 13:13

      Special thanks to my agent, Pam Strickler, for her hard work, dedication and guidance.

      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

      Epilogue

      Letter to Reader

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      Was she on a fool’s errand?

      Sarah Barkley’s stomach knotted and her chest ached on a whole raft of second thoughts. She just had driven two-and-a-half days from Seattle to reach Sweet Grass Valley, Montana.

      Now, sitting at the counter of an old-fashioned diner in the small rural town, the only place she could find to eat, she wondered if she’d be smart to turn around and go back home.

      Unsure what to do, she mindlessly rubbed the nine-inch scar hidden beneath her cotton blouse. Her doctor had warned her against trying to locate the family that had lost a loved one—and had generously saved Sarah’s life. “Unless they specifically request contact, organ donors and their family should remain anonymous,” the doctor had told her. “You can cause a grieving family to relive their pain and loss.”

      She had written the family a letter of thanks, but that seemed like paltry appreciation for the extraordinary gift she had received.

      The heart that beat steadily in Sarah’s chest had once belonged to someone’s loved one. The gratitude she felt was as big as the Montana sky. She wanted to find some way to thank the family.

      But how?

      There’d be no need for them to know that the heart that beat so strongly for her now had once known this town, the streets and sidewalks, very likely even this diner.

      If her research had identified the right heart donor.

      Sarah looked up as the waitress arrived with her order of a turkey sandwich on wheat bread, no mayonnaise, and fruit. The lunch rush had apparently passed and there were only a couple of older men lingering over their coffee in a booth by the wall.

      “Here you go, hon. I’ll freshen that iced tea for you.” A brassy-blonde in her forties with short hair and a great smile, she refilled Sarah’s glass. Her name tag read Bonnie Sue. “You just passin’ through?”

      “I’m not quite sure,” she admitted, adding a packet of sweetener to her tea.

      “We don’t get many tourists.”

      “It is a bit off the beaten path.” So far off the beaten path, she’d almost missed the turn off from Highway 2 in the northern part of the state.

      “I’ll say. I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s a good place to be if you like neighbors who are good ol’ down-home folks and you aren’t interested in living high on the hog.”

      “No big city lights, huh?”

      Bonnie Sue laughed a hearty sound. “Hon, we don’t even have sidewalks after seven o’clock. We roll ’em up and tuck ’em away till five the next morning.”

      Sarah smiled, wondering what it would be like to live in such an out-of-the-way place. Peaceful, she guessed. A far slower pace than Seattle.

      The bell over the diner’s door tinkled. Sarah glanced in that direction. A long-legged cowboy wearing СКАЧАТЬ