Read Love Inspired November 2014 #2 Online
Authors: Lorraine Beatty,Allie Pleiter
“I'm honored.” He flashed that smile and ignored the dog.
Nadine pinched his arm, getting mostly wool coat. “Ooohhhh, nice material. Faith, look out for this one. Pastor Ethan's got competition here.”
Faith felt her eyes bulge as she gave her mom a pointed look.
But her mother kept going. “Faith's our only daughter left unwed. Julie, our youngest, hitched up last month. As did my oldest boy.”
“Mom!”
“Well...it's true.” Nadine smiled.
Dale listened with forced interest. This guy was polished with a capital
P,
but he humored her mother, who made them sound like a bunch of backward clodhoppers.
“Show Dale to his room, honey. Your father's at a meeting in town, so dinner will be a late. Dale, you're dining with us.” Her mom gave him a wink. “Do you have any allergies we should know about?”
Dale cocked an eyebrow. “None, Nadine. And dinner sounds fine.”
If he was put out by her mom's orders, Dale didn't show it. Well, maybe not too visibly, but Faith had seen his chin lift a tad. The man had manners and ironclad control on his facial expressions.
She gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”
Dale hoisted his suitcase and followed her without a word. He was probably shell-shocked.
Taking each step of the wide staircase, Faith was aware of every movement made with Dale behind her. What was he thinking? Wait, she didn't want to know. Men like him thought women were trophies or belt-buckle notches.
Not this woman. Faith rubbed her hands, made rough from ranch chores, her fingertips callused from her violin. She was smarter now.
She glanced back at the man who'd be underfoot for at least a week. He'd be around long enough for the homecoming celebration this weekend and the Thanksgiving parade the following week. “Will your family join you?”
A muscle rippled along Dale's jaw. “No.”
“Oh.” Faith kept moving. They were worlds apart. She couldn't imagine a holiday without family. Maybe she was as naive as ever to think family mattered to everyone.
Cord had told her that Dale was the head of an international real estate services company, built strong by the Massey family. No doubt Dale had been surrounded by important people all his life. She peeked back at him. Right now, he looked terribly alone.
* * *
Dale heard the knock at the door but didn't dare move. He had a good spot by the window with a view of the mountains. “It's open.”
He'd left the door to his spacious guest room ajar, and Faith slipped inside.
He held up his hand. He'd be with her in a moment. “No, no, no. If they wait on this one, it'll be gone.” Then nothing. Silence. “Dad? You there?”
Dale lowered his phone with a growl. “What is it with your cell service? That's the fourth time my call's been dropped.”
Faith shrugged her pretty shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal. “We've always had bad coverage here, but we have a landline you can use.”
Dale clenched his jaw. He couldn't conduct sensitive business in someone's living room. “Thanks, I'll see how I fare with my laptop.”
“Got a piece of paper?”
He handed her his legal pad.
“Here's the password for our internet connection. It's probably slower than what you're used to.”
Where was he, the edge of the planet?
He stared at her.
She kept talking, completely unfazed. “If you need privacy, you can use my father's office. It's right before the dining room. Just close the door. He won't mind.”
“Thank you.” He waited a moment for her to keep chattering.
She didn't. She stared at him, her eyes wide.
“Did you need something?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks colored. “Dinner's ready.”
She'd changed her clothes. She still wore jeans, but her top was soft and pretty. A gray fuzzy sweater that made her blue eyes glacial. Icy-blue.
He looked down at his rumpled white shirt, which was unbuttoned. He'd been in the process of changing before he'd gotten a call on his cell. No time to shower, but he could wash up and throw on clean clothes. “I'll be a minute.”
Her cheeks blazed and she looked anywhere but at him. She backed up and bumped into a chair. “Of course.”
He cocked his head, and then it dawned on him that she was embarrassed by his open shirt. His chest wasn't bare; he wore an undershirt. Sure, it fit like a second skin, and maybe that's what had flustered Miss Shaw.
He felt the corners of his mouth twitch.
“You can't miss our dining room. Just follow the noise.” She gave him a shy smile and bolted.
Dale stared at the door a moment. Was she for real? Then his phone buzzed and vibrated. “Dale Massey...”
Nothing.
Gritting his teeth, he tossed the phone on the bed and headed for the bathroom to wash up before dinner.
Seriously. Where on earth was he? And how soon could he get done what he came here to do and return to the real world?
Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781460342381
His Small-Town Family
Copyright © 2014 by Lorraine Beatty
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now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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ISBN-13: 9781460348796
Copyright © 2014 Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
Saved by the Fireman
Copyright © 2014 by Alyse Stanko Pleiter
His Small-Town Family
Copyright © 2014 by Lorraine Betty
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ⢠are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.