Montana Love Letter. Charlotte Carter

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СКАЧАТЬ TV was mounted between the dining and living areas. Two large wagon-wheel chandeliers hung from the high ceiling.

      A coffee mug had been left on an end table, and some of Hailey’s toys and books were scattered about. A lived-in room. A room where friends would be welcomed.

      Adam was standing at the kitchen counter eating the last few bites of his sandwich.

      “What a beautiful place you have.” The space oozed potent masculinity and solid dependability, and Janelle had to remind herself that appearances could be deceiving. She’d learned that lesson too late to save herself from heartbreak. “Have you lived here long?”

      He leaned against the counter. “All my life. My dad built the basic house pretty much by himself. Later, when my brother and I were older, we helped him add on another bedroom and upgrade the kitchen.”

      “Are your parents still living?”

      “Yep. Living the good life in Arizona. Dad was having some breathing problems and arthritis. They thought the drier climate might help. Now he’s playing golf, though he says his handicap is about twenty and that’s for nine holes.”

      She chuckled. “Not quite ready for the senior pro tour yet, huh?”

      “Not likely. My mother has stuck with bridge and water aerobics. They seem to keep pretty busy.”

      “Does your brother still live here in Montana?”

      “Nope. Marc’s a big-gun contractor in Phoenix. He’s close enough to the folks to pop over to see them if there’s a problem.”

      Rae and Hailey came running back into the living room. Rae wrapped her arms around Janelle’s hips.

      “I’ve got some video games. Is it okay for Rae to play them with me?” Hailey asked.

      “As long as they’re not violent games, it’s fine with me,” Janelle said.

      “Trust me, they’re age appropriate, though they still might be a little old for Rae,” Adam assured her. “I make it a point to check ratings and ask other parents before I buy any game.” He dusted the bread crumbs off his hands. “Hailey, you can offer them a snack if they’re hungry, but remember, no going out on the boat on your own. You have to wait for me.”

      “I can drive the boat by myself,” she protested.

      “You can, but only when I’m with you.” He hooked his arm around his daughter and gave her a squeeze. “I’ll see you all about dinnertime. Bathroom’s down the hall, and there are fresh towels in the cupboard.”

      “Thanks. You’ve been more than generous, letting us stay in the cottage and have the run of your home. We’ll be fine,” Janelle said. It really was incredibly kind of him. Trusting, too, since she was as much a stranger to him as Adam was to her.

      He turned to leave, and she immediately sensed the vacuum he left behind, almost as though his leaving caused the vibrancy in the air to dim and the oxygen to be pulled from the room.

      With a shake of her head, Janelle thrust such fanciful notions away.

      * * *

      His head filled with thoughts of Janelle, Adam went directly to his office. Something about her stirred in him a desire to protect her, keep her from harm, although he didn’t think she’d appreciate his concern. She appeared perfectly competent, even calm despite her

      run-in with a tree.

      Even so, he’d seen a hint of sadness in the depths of her brown eyes. He’d felt a connection with her, an undefined link that echoed his own sense of loneliness.

      Her elemental feminine mystique called to him, as did her quiet sophistication. Chances were good she wouldn’t feel the same way about him—a guitar-playing mechanic with grease stains on his hands and lube oil in his veins.

      She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Which didn’t always mean a woman wasn’t married. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder.

      Scratching the back of his head, he forcefully set aside any thought of Janelle Townsend. He had to find out what glitch had kept him from paying on credit.

      Sitting at his desk, he punched in the number of Devin McCain at the auto-parts store in Missoula. While he waited for an answer, he looked out the window above his desk, past the play yard to his house, and wondered what Janelle was doing.

      “McCain,” his friend answered.

      “It’s me, Adam. What’s going on, Devin? What’s this about your delivery guy asking for cash only?” Adam strummed his fingers against the edge of his desk in an agitated beat.

      “You tell me, Adam. I ran your credit-card number through the system like I always do, and it was declined. You overextended on your limit?”

      “Not likely.” He stared at the pile of invoices that needed to be paid. No more than usual, he was pretty sure. “There’s gotta be some kind of glitch in the system. Did you try it a second time?”

      “Three times, man. Rejected every time. You’ve never had trouble with credit before.”

      “No, I haven’t.” Since Lisa died, he’d barely kept up with the paperwork that she used to do so easily. But he hadn’t overdrawn his account, he was sure. “Wish you’d given me the benefit of the doubt and called me. Kind of embarrassing to be told by some kid my credit’s no good.”

      “Sorry, man. I really am. But I’ve got a business to run.”

      “Right.” So did Adam. If a mix-up cut him off from his line of credit, it would be tough to keep things going smoothly. There was always a lag between buying parts for a job and getting paid by the customer. He had to find out what was going on.

      “Look, Devin, we’ve known each other a long time. You know I’ll work out whatever misunderstanding has happened. But I need you to cover me while I get things back to normal.”

      “I don’t know...”

      “A woman came in a bit ago. Her front end collided with a tree. Lots of damage. I’ve got most of the parts I’ll need on hand, but I’m going to need a new radiator for her, a headlight and an air bag for a three-year-old Honda. Run a tab for me, will you? You know I’m good for it.”

      Devin sighed into the phone. “Okay. But get this credit thing straightened out fast. In this economy, my sales are way off.”

      “Don’t worry. Just ship that stuff to me next week.” Adam gave Devin the model number he needed. With a sense of relief, Adam hung up and immediately called the president of the bank in town, a man he’d known most of his life.

      Paul Muskie gave him an answer he didn’t want to hear. “The IRS put a lien on all your bank accounts.”

      That news drove Adam back in his chair. “You’re kidding me.” A joke, that’s what it was. The Rotary guys were always pulling stunts on each other. Adam had done his share of leg-pulling over the years. “Come on, Paul. Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”

      Muskie was quiet for a moment. “Didn’t the IRS send СКАЧАТЬ