Janice Johnson - Someone Like Her

“About?” Adrian asked as he paused in his task of sorting through the box.

“Misjudging you.”

He met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “Are you so sure yet that you did?”

She nodded. “Pretty sure.”

After a moment of searching her face, he said, “Thank you for that, then.” He stood and held out a hand. “I know you don’t have all afternoon. Shall we move on?”

Lucy stared at his hand, absurdly afraid that if she laid hers in it, she truly would be sorry.

Because touching him might be dangerous to her peace of mind.

Once Upon a Wedding by Stacy Connelly & Accidental Princess by Nancy Robards Thompson

The Midwife’s Glass Slipper by Karen Rose Smith & Best For the Baby by Ann Evans

Seventh Bride, Seventh Brother by Nicole Foster & First Come Twins by Helen Brenna

In Care of Sam Beaudry by Kathleen Eagle

A Weaver Wedding by Allison Leigh

Someone Like Her by Janice Kay Johnson

A Forever Family by Jamie Sobrato

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Janice Kay Johnsonwrites novels about love and family – about the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have on us throughout life. Her 2007 novel Snowbound won a RITA® Award from Romance Writers of America for Best Contemporary Series Romance. A former librarian, Janice raised two daughters in a small rural town north of Seattle, Washington. She loves to read and is an active volunteer and board member for Purrfect Pals, a no-kill cat shelter.

Cover Page

Excerpt “I’m sorry,” Lucy whispered. “About?” Adrian asked as he paused in his task of sorting through the box. “Misjudging you.” He met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “Are you so sure yet that you did?” She nodded. “Pretty sure.” After a moment of searching her face, he said, “Thank you for that, then.” He stood and held out a hand. “I know you don’t have all afternoon. Shall we move on?” Lucy stared at his hand, absurdly afraid that if she laid hers in it, she truly would be sorry. Because touching him might be dangerous to her peace of mind.

Other Books By Available in May 2010 from Mills & Boon® Special Moments™ Once Upon a Wedding by Stacy Connelly & Accidental Princess by Nancy Robards Thompson The Midwife’s Glass Slipper by Karen Rose Smith & Best For the Baby by Ann Evans Seventh Bride, Seventh Brother by Nicole Foster & First Come Twins by Helen Brenna In Care of Sam Beaudry by Kathleen Eagle A Weaver Wedding by Allison Leigh Someone Like Her by Janice Kay Johnson A Forever Family by Jamie Sobrato

Title Page Someone Like Her BY Janice Kay Johnson www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author Janice Kay Johnson writes novels about love and family – about the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have on us throughout life. Her 2007 novel Snowbound won a RITA® Award from Romance Writers of America for Best Contemporary Series Romance. A former librarian, Janice raised two daughters in a small rural town north of Seattle, Washington. She loves to read and is an active volunteer and board member for Purrfect Pals, a no-kill cat shelter.

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

Preview

Copyright

“EVERY TABLE FULL except the reserved one, and it’s a Tuesday.” Carrying two glasses of iced tea, Mabel paused to grin at Lucy Peterson. “Those new soups are a hit.”

She continued into the crowded dining room of the café. Lucy, who had just finished ringing up a customer, looked around with satisfaction. Mabel was right. Business kept getting better and better.

The bell over the door rang. Lucy’s head turned as her guest slipped in, her carriage confident, her gaze shy. The hat lady.

Last time Lucy had seen her, the day before yesterday, she’d carried herself decorously and yet with regal authority. The pillbox hat had said it all. She was often Queen Elizabeth—the second, she always emphasized. She didn’t actually look much like Queen Elizabeth II, being slender rather than matronly in build, with hair that had been blond when she first appeared in Middleton, perhaps ten years ago. Now her hair was primarily white, as wispy and flyaway as the woman whose head it crowned.

But today, she wore a flower-printed dress and a broad-brimmed hat festooned with flowers. Her face was softer, her carriage more youthful, her gaze vaguer.

This was always the awkward moment. Lucy had to pretend she knew who Middleton’s one and only homeless person was. Calling her by the wrong name seemed so insulting.

Talk in the café hadn’t dimmed at all. Everyone knew the hat lady was a project of Lucy’s. Lucy’s Aunt Marian called, “Your majesty,” and resumed her one-sided conversation with Uncle Sidney, who almost never said a word, and failed entirely to notice the hat lady’s astonished stare.

Lucy went to her and said in a gentle voice, “I’m so glad you could come to lunch today. Your table’s right here, by the window. Did you see the crocus are blooming?”

The hat lady smiled at her, her face crinkling with pleasure. “God’s gifts put man’s best dreams to shame.”

Okay. It was a clue. She still had a British accent, which was mostly a given, although not long ago she’d been Elizabeth Taylor, the accent wholly American. She had an astonishing gift for accents; a few months ago, she’d done a splendid Eliza Doolittle, starting with a nearly indecipherable Cockney accent skillfully revised over several weeks until she spoke with a pure, somewhat stilted upper-crust accent worthy of the most carefully tutored student.

Lucy had taken to rereading English literature and watching classic films so she wouldn’t be completely lost every time the hat lady changed personas.

“Please. Sit down.” Lucy gestured her to the tiny table for two in front of the bow window, which she’d reserved especially for the hat lady. Yellow and purple crocuses bloomed in the windowbox outside. Her shopping cart, neatly packed, was parked on the sidewalk where she could see it. That was why Lucy always saved the window seat for her. “Would you care for tea?”

“Please.”

She gazed with seeming delight and no boredom out the window until Lucy returned with a teapot, loose tea steeping inside. One did not offer the hat lady tea improperly made.

From the menu she chose only soup and a scone. Lucy had tried persuading her to have a hearty meal when she was here, but had never succeeded.

“Won’t you join me?” she did ask, with vague surprise as if unaware there was a busy restaurant around them, and that Lucy was in charge.

“I might sit down with you for a moment a little later,” she promised. Her friend had aged noticeably these past few months, Lucy noted with dismay. Her spine was as straight as ever, her pinkie finger extended as she sipped tea, but she must have lost weight. She seemed frail today. If only she could be persuaded to settle into a rented room! Hiding her worry, Lucy asked, “How are you?”