Under Montana Skies. Darlene Graham

>

      

      “The man’s impossible.”

      Laura Cresswood said nothing as the supervisory nurse, Sylvia Summers, continued. “He wants everything his way, including the exact timing of our visits—which is impossible to predict. Why he chooses to live up there on that mountain—”

      “Especially with all that money,” one of the field nurses interrupted as she scooted past Laura’s desk.

      “The man is a hermit,” Sylvia continued. “And he’s already run off two physical therapists.” She handed the chart to Laura. “Now it’s your turn. The chart should be labeled P.I.A., because the guy’s a genuine pain in the—”

      “I’ve handled P.I.A.’s before,” Laura answered quietly. And I’m an expert on rich, demanding men.

      “This is a really tough case, Laura. No one wants to deal with Adam Scott, much less stay on that mountain to give him his therapy.”

      “You told me all that, and about the car accident.” Laura flipped back a page in the chart. “It says here he’s a widower. Was his wife killed in the crash?”

      “Yes.” Sylvia ran a hand through her short-cropped hair. “A terrible accident. You know, since you’re taking this on as a private contract, you’ll be totally on your own. You’re a brave woman, Laura.”

      Bravery has nothing to do with it, Laura thought as she closed the chart.

      Dear Reader,

      Have you ever noticed how, when your heart is troubled, it helps to go someplace quiet? We all have peaceful spots where we retreat when we need a moment of refuge. Mine is a small duck pond a few blocks from my home. I walk over there and stand on a small arched stone bridge. After a while, the sounds of the ducks quacking and the wind in the cypress trees and the gurgle of the low waterfall soothe my spirit.

      But sometimes there are circumstances in life when we need a greater escape, times we need a special, remote place where we can go to experience…a healing. I’ve had such times myself, and I know firsthand the magical restorative powers of the vast national forests in the mountains of northwestern Montana. The primitive cabin in this story is very much like a real cabin in the Kootenai National Forest where I stayed with some friends many years ago. After I experienced the profound peace and beauty and wholeness of that wilderness, I knew I would use it as a setting in a story some day.

      And though Laura Duncan and Adam Scott have retreated to the Montana high country for completely different reasons, it doesn’t matter what heartaches drew them there. What matters is their healing. What matters is that in the midst of that wildness and isolation, they find peace…and, more important, they find each other.

      Darlene Graham

      Your kind comments about my books are always very much appreciated. Visit my web site at http://www.superauthors.com or write to me at P.O. Box 720224, Norman, OK 73070.

      Under Montana Skies

      Darlene Graham

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      This book is dedicated to Marilyn Watley.

      Thank you, dearest friend, for taking me to high places.

      CONTENTS

       PROLOGUE

       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

       EPILOGUE

      PROLOGUE

      WAS THIS WRONG?

      Her conscience squirmed, but Laura Duncan Crestwood reminded herself that she intended to pay Stuart back, even if it took her ten years. She refused to think of herself as the kind of woman who would actually steal.

      In fact, she reminded herself and raised her chin, she was a nice woman. The kind of woman who complimented the chubby grocery sacker on his new jacket, listened to the elderly lady’s third repetition of an old story and smiled at every single baby she encountered, homely or not. A nice woman—who was robbing her soon-to-be ex-husband blind. Her chin lowered and her shoulders slumped.

      Was this wrong?

      “May I get anything else for you, Mrs. Crestwood?” the fashionable young clerk asked.

      “I don’t think so.” Laura smiled a sad little smile and handed over the platinum charge card, the one embossed with STUART HAYDEN CRESTWOOD.

      She sighed, folded her hands on the chest-high mahogany counter and studied the high-priced travel accessories under the glass.

      Okay, she admitted, she was robbing Stuart blind, and probably deaf and dumb, too, but there seemed to be no alternative.

      She watched the clerk scanning tag after tag on the heavy woolen sweaters and sturdy jeans that would serve her well in her new life in Montana. Stuart will have a fit when he gets these bills. Or a heart attack.

      Well, she didn’t want that exactly. In fact, Laura wanted Stuart to live on and on. Live on, and be completely miserable with that piglet, Charlene. Laura smiled again, not quite so sadly.

      Yeah. Wouldn’t it be just lovely if Charlene got fat, and Stuart got fatter? Yeah. Stuart would end up being the absentee father she’d always known he would be, and Charlene would morph into the whiny hag that lurked under that false-eyelashed facade.

      A