Love Thy Neighbor?
After years of wandering, Daisy Johnson hopes to settle in Turnabout, Texas, open a restaurant, perhaps find a husband. Of course, she’d envisioned a man who actually likes her. Not someone who offers a marriage of convenience to avoid scandal.
Turnabout is just a temporary stop for newspaper reporter Everett Fulton. Thanks to one pesky connecting door and a local gossip, he’s suddenly married, but his dreams of leaving haven’t changed. What Daisy wants—home, family, tenderness—he can’t provide. Yet big-city plans are starting to pale beside small-town warmth….
“There is some talk already circulating around town.”
Daisy rubbed her cheek, trying to take in what this meant. “Be honest with me—how bad is it?”
“To speak bluntly, our reputations will be tarnished, and it may very well spill over onto Abigail, as well.”
Her spirits sank. Was her dream of being a welcomed member of the community over so soon? She wouldn’t accept that. “But surely if we just go on about our business, in time the rumors will die down.”
Everett shook his head.“I wish that were true. But this sort of thing can take on a life of its own, and folks have long memories. Believe me, I know.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?”
“There’s only one thing we can do—you and I must immediately announce our engagement.”
Daisy halted in her tracks and stared at him, not sure she’d heard correctly. Was he serious? The only hint of emotion she could see in his face, however, was that irritating hint of cynical amusement he wore like armor.
WINNIE GRIGGS
is a city girl born and raised in southeast Louisiana’s Cajun Country who grew up to marry a country boy from the hills of northwest Louisiana. Though her Prince Charming (who often wears the guise of a cattle rancher) is more comfortable riding a tractor than a white steed, the two of them have been living their own happily-ever-after for more than thirty years. During that time they raised four proud-to-call-them-mine children and a too-numerous-to-count assortment of dogs, cats, fish, hamsters, turtles and 4-H sheep.
Winnie has held a job at a utility company since she graduated from college. She saw her first novel hit bookstores in 2001. In addition to her day job and writing career, Winnie serves on committees within her church and on the executive boards and committees of several writing organizations, and she is active in local civic organizations—she truly believes the adage that you reap in proportion to what you sow.
In addition to writing and reading, Winnie enjoys spending time with her family, cooking and exploring flea markets. Readers can contact Winnie at P.O. Box 14, Plain Dealing, LA 71064, or email her at winnie@winniegriggs.com.
The Bride Next Door
Winnie Griggs
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
—Matthew 6:19–21
To my accountability partner, Sherrie, who helped me stay on track as I was writing this book. And to my sister Tammy, who took the time from her busy schedule to read the finished product and give me her honest feedback.
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Questions for Dicussion
Excerpt
Chapter One
Turnabout, Texas, April 1895
The ornery, splinter-ridden door refused to budge, no matter how hard she shoved. Or how hard she glared.
Daisy Johnson stood on the darkened sidewalk, glowering at the weathered barricade that stood between herself and her new home. She absently scratched a splinter from her thumb as she glanced down at the black-and-white dog sitting patiently at her heels. “Don’t worry, Kip. I’m going to get us inside, one way or the other.”
Kip gave her a supportive yip, then began scratching his side.
A noise from over to her left caught Daisy’s attention. Down the street, a shadowy figure exited the livery and headed unsteadily down the sidewalk toward the hotel. Probably coming from one of the poker games the locals held there—an activity she was unfortunately all too familiar with.
Other than that, things were quiet. Which was fine by her. Kip was the only company she needed tonight.
Daisy spared a quick glance at the adjoining building, which housed the newspaper office, and thought briefly about knocking on the door to see if she could borrow something to use as a pry bar. But she discarded the thought almost before it had fully formed. Not only was the hour late, but from what she recalled about the man who owned the place, he was an uppity gent with a highfalutin accent of some sort. His attitude reminded her too much of her grandmother. Not the sort who would take kindly to being roused from sleep. Or someone she’d want to owe any favors.
Turning back to the stubbornly closed door, she jutted her chin out and tilted her hat back. No warped slab of lumber was going to get the better of her, not when she was so close to her goal.
Using her foot to shove aside one of the rotten boards she’d pried from across the door frame, Daisy jiggled the key and turned the knob again. There was just enough light coming from the glow of the nearby streetlamp to confirm the door wasn’t locked. Which meant it was just stuck.
“If you think you can out-ornery me,” she muttered at the door as she rolled up her sleeves, “then you better think again.” With that, she took firmer hold of the knob, twisted it as far as it would go, and led with her shoulder as she rammed against the door. Kip stopped scratching and gave her a you-can-do-it bark.
The door held a moment longer, then scraped noisily open a few inches. Progress. But not enough. Kip might be able to squeeze through that opening, but not her.
Steeling herself, Daisy threw her shoulder into it one more time, grunting at the impact. With a last creak of protest, the door gave up its fight and opened wide enough to allow her to pass.
With a triumphant grin and a prickling of anticipation, Daisy retrieved her pack, tossed her bedroll up on her shoulder and met Kip’s curious glance. “This is it, boy. We’re home.”
With a deep breath, Daisy took her first step inside the building, Kip at her heels. The room was mostly cloaked in shadows, illuminated only by what light filtered in from the streetlamp, and it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust.
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