Montana Love Letter

by Charlotte Carter

  “This change would be a big improvement over you simply tossing everything into a pile.” She could be bullheaded, too, and she let it show in her voice. “Maybe you’d actually be able to find something yourself.”

  He pushed himself up from the chair. “Okay. Do what you want. As far as I’m concerned, you’re in charge. A bunch of colored tabs aren’t going to change the fact that I can’t read worth beans and will never be able to.”

  He marched back to the SUV, climbed inside and started the engine. A moment later he had his head stuck under the hood. A perfect place to hide from his problems.

  So much for Eileen’s idea number one.

  Humph! If Adam thought she was done trying to help him, he was wrong. There was more than one way to tame a stubborn man.

  * * *

  That evening after the girls were in bed, Adam grabbed his telescope and tripod. He wandered out onto the deck and set up his gear. A good, clear night for stargazing. He spotted Ophiuchus and trained his scope on the house-shaped constellation, adjusting the focus.

  He didn’t need any color-coded gimmicks or contrivances to find stars in the night sky. Janelle must think he was the stupidest guy in the world to believe she’d come up with that idea to make things easier for her. She did it for him. And he resented her efforts to change who he was.

  Lisa had accepted and loved him just as he was, warts and all. Except she’d warned him not to let anyone know he couldn’t read for fear he’d lose business and embarrass her and Hailey.

  Janelle was going to try to “fix” him just like his third-grade teacher who kept him after school every day trying to pound reading into his head. But no matter how much she pushed and cajoled, told him he could learn to read like other kids, the letters kept jumping around as if they were Mexican jumping beans.

  He’d tried! He hadn’t wanted to be stupid. No kid would ask for that. But the best he’d ever done was get a couple of words to stick together long enough for him to figure out what they meant.

  Then the letters would split apart to do a jitterbug dance on the page.

  As an adult, things hadn’t gotten much better. He was just better at disguising the problem. Faking it. Finding ways to work around it.

  Except Janelle hadn’t taken long to see right through his phony excuses. Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

  Except that wasn’t what he wanted, either.

  He liked having her around. He liked how she treated his daughter and how Hailey responded to her.

  He liked how she felt when he held her. When he kissed her.

  But for Adam, she was off-limits. He had to remember that. Keep his distance.

  His grip tightened on the telescope. Every day, despite Janelle’s determination to fix him, it got harder and harder to imagine what it would be like when she was no longer a part of his life.

  Her working part-time wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy him. He wanted more—a real, lasting relationship. But he didn’t dare set his sights that high. He’d only be disappointed when she rejected him.

  He heard her walking toward him on the boardwalk from the cottage. He closed his eyes, blocking out the stars in the constellation Ophiuchus and picturing the sparkle in her eyes when she laughed.

  “That’s quite a telescope you’ve got.” She stopped near him, close enough that he caught the scent of her fruity shampoo on the night air.

  He lifted his head away from the eyepiece. “You should see my dad’s. It’s five times more powerful. He liked the idea of moving to Arizona so he could take it up in the mountains and set up his own observatory.”

  “It’s nice he has a hobby like that.”

  “I think my mom gets a little tired of him going off with his amateur astronomer buddies, but she has friends there now, so they’re okay.” He gestured toward the telescope. “You want to take a look?”

  She stepped around and put her eye to the scope. “What am I looking at?”

  “The constellation of Ophiuchus. It’s about nine stars—not all of them are as bright as the others. They form a shape that looks like the outline of a house drawn by a kindergartner. It’s kind of lying on its side.”

  She stared into the scope for a minute and then lifted her head. “I don’t see anything that looks like a house.”

  He checked to see the scope was still focused properly.

  “Okay, let’s see if I can help you spot it without the telescope. Then you’ll know what you’re looking for.” He stepped behind her, his head close to hers, her hair soft against his cheek. He pointed toward the constellation. “The top of the roof is the brightest star. Do you see that?”

  “I guess so.” She didn’t move and neither did he.

  “Now, if you slide down the roof on the left side to another star that’s not quite so bright, you’ll just be able to make out a dimmer star that’s like the eave on the house.”

  When he inhaled, strands of her hair tickled his cheek.

  “Yes, I think I’ve got that.”

  “Okay, let’s look in the scope again. See if you can find that part of Ophiuchus.”

  She shifted back to the scope. “Oh, I see it! That first star is really bright and so close. I had no idea.” A smile of excitement lifted her voice.

  Still standing next to her, close enough that he could have swept those same strands of hair back over her delicate ear, he described the stars that formed the rest of the outline.

  “That’s how my dad taught me to see Ophiuchus. But actually it’s supposed to represent a man holding a serpent.”

  “What?” She back away from the scope. “A serpent?”

  “I know. It doesn’t look like that to me, either. Maybe whoever named the stars didn’t have a kid in kindergarten.”

  She laughed, and the sound rippled around him, warming him like a winter coat.

  How would he ever be able to let her go?

  Yet if she couldn’t change him, fix his problem, there’d be no way for him to keep her. Dyslexia was a part of him. Who he was. It wasn’t fixable.

  He knew because he’d tried. Because he’d prayed to God when he was a kid that he’d wake up in the morning and be able to read.

  Never happened. Not going to happen now.

  After helping her locate a couple more constellations, they sat down in the Adirondack chairs to enjoy the night sounds.

  “I’m curious,” Adam commented. “What did you do as an anthropologist with your husband?”

  “Raymond’s specialty was the study of bears as symbols in various cultures.”

  “Bears? Like Smokey the Bear?”

  “More or less. He spent a part of every summer living with some remote native tribe gathering information about how they viewed bears.”

  “Why?” That sounded like a waste of time to Adam, but who was he to say?

  She laughed. “A lot of people used to ask him that question. Usually he’d go into a long dissertation on the subject that would put the questioner right to sleep.”

  That wouldn’t take long in Adam’s case. “Did you go with him to these villages?”

  “Only once. I caught some dreadful intestinal disease and he sent me home.” A note of regret seeped into her voice.

  “You must still miss him.”

  She was silent for a moment before she replied. “After Raymond died, I discovered he hadn’t been faithful to me. Turned out all my efforts to improve his appearance from a stodgy professor to a well-dressed professional worked well to attract young coeds he met on his lecture circuit.” Her laughter held a bitter edge. “So rather than grieving, I got angry at him. I still am, but mostly now because he’d never spent the time to really get to know Raeanne.”

  “That’s a hard one to swallow. But I’ve gotta tell you, any man who’d be un
faithful to you would have to be an idiot.”

  In the starlight, he saw her smile. “Thank you.”

  Her words were no more than a whisper on the wind, but Adam felt them curl around his heart. He could guarantee, if he were Janelle’s husband, he’d never stray from home and hearth. Not ever.

  Not that he had a chance of marrying her. Even so, he secretly acknowledged he was glad she wasn’t still grieving over the loss of her husband.

  * * *

  Sunday brought with it renewed heat and the threat of an afternoon thunderstorm.

  As Janelle walked toward the church, she glanced up at the clouds gathering over the mountains. “Maybe we should have brought our umbrellas,” she said to Adam.

  “Nah. We’ll be home long before those clouds drop any rain on us.”

  They hadn’t quite reached the door when Adrienne Walker, the pastor’s wife, hurried out to meet them.

  “Janelle, I’m so glad you came to church this morning.” Breathless, she placed her hand over her chest. “Our soprano soloist has laryngitis. She can’t sing a note. Sounds like a frog, the poor dear. Could you please, please fill in for her? Our second soprano doesn’t have a strong enough voice to carry the solo and I don’t know—”

  “Mrs. Walker, I can’t sing a solo when I haven’t rehearsed with the choir.” Janelle quailed at the very thought. “I don’t even know what hymn you’re singing. Or if it’s in my key. I couldn’t possibly—”

  “Do call me Adrienne, dear. It’s not a long solo, and I’m sure you’re familiar with the hymn. It’s one of my favorites.”

  She named a tune Janelle was at least acquainted with, but not one she’d ever sung except as a member of the congregation.

  “We have a guest preacher from headquarters this morning,” Adrienne continued. “I know it’s one of his favorite hymns, too, and we so don’t want to disappoint him. Please?”

  “Go ahead,” Adam said. “Give it a shot. What could go wrong?”

  Her mouth went dry, and her eyes darted around in search of escape. Sweat formed under her arms. “I could embarrass myself and the whole choir. That’s what could go wrong.”

  “I’ve heard you sing, dear. I promise you won’t embarrass yourself.”

  Janelle’s gazed landed on Raeanne. “But I can’t leave my daughter. She’s doesn’t like—”

  “I’ll watch her,” Adam said.

  “I’ll skip Sunday School and sit with her,” Hailey volunteered. “I think you ought to do it. My mom used to say you should take advantage of the opportunities God gives you.”

  Mentally, Janelle groaned. Out of the mouths of babes.

  Adrienne slipped her arm through Janelle’s. “Come along, dear. I’ll show you where we keep the choir robes and you can run through some scales and warm up backstage.”

  Janelle realized Adrienne’s successful volunteer-

  recruitment technique involved coercion. “I don’t—” She rubbed her cheek, tugged on her earlobe and looked at Raeanne. “Will you be all right sitting with Adam and Hailey?”

  The child responded with an eager nod of her head.

  A whole swarm of butterflies took flight in Janelle’s stomach. Far more butterflies than she’d ever experienced when she’d had the lead in her high-school musical.

  “You know you may be sorry you asked me to do this,” she warned the minister’s wife.

  “Never. The Lord has blessed you with a beautiful voice. He won’t let you down now.”

  Janelle prayed Adrienne was right. This might be the one time God had made a serious mistake in judgment.

  * * *

  The first two songs the choir sang were familiar, and the soprano part carried the melody, so Janelle was able to blend her voice with the rest of the choir. But as they drew closer to singing the hymn with the soprano solo, she literally began to sweat. The music folder trembled in her hands.

  Adrienne leaned toward her. “Your voice is a gift from God. Use it to sing praise unto the Lord and He will be standing beside you.”

  Janelle stood on cue with the choir. The organist played the opening notes. Janelle filled her lungs with air and her heart with faith in the Lord. Please let me be a reflection of Your love.

  She began to sing. Hesitantly at first. Then with more confidence and power. Her voice soared toward the heavens. The choir joined in and she fused her voice with theirs again, sending up a prayer of thanksgiving.

  As soon as the service was completed and the choir had retreated to the dressing room, the members descended on her with hugs and congratulations.

  “What a lovely voice.”

  “Please do join the choir.”

  “You’ll be at choir practice Thursday night, won’t you?”

  Stunned by their reaction, she hedged, unwilling to make a promise she might not be able to keep. She didn’t want to fail these warm, friendly people who had made her feel so welcome.

  With a grateful smile, a few words of thanks and knees that were still shaking, she escaped outside, where the parishioners were gathered to chat with friends. She craned her neck in search of Adam. But before she could spot him, members of the congregation surrounded her, overwhelming her with congratulations. Her cheeks flamed hot with all of the attention and praise they heaped on her.

  “Hey, Janie, over here.”

  She heard Adam’s voice, and relief surged through her. She quickly excused herself to join Adam and the girls.

  Raeanne gave her a big hug around her waist.

  “Hi, sweetie. Were you good for Adam in church?”

  “She was perfect,” Adam said. “Weren’t you, Buttercup?”

  Raeanne giggled.

  “That was a beautiful solo, Janelle.” Hailey’s eyes shone with shared pride. “Did you hear everybody clapping for you?”

  “No, I...” She’d heard nothing after her solo except the other choir members and a roaring in her ears.

  “Daddy clapped the loudest,” Hailey said.

  Adam shrugged. “Seemed the thing to do. You were pretty awesome.”

  His praise touched her in a way no one else’s had and brought tears to her eyes. “Thank you.”

  A well-dressed woman in her sixties approached them. “Excuse me. I’m Doris Jackson, and this is my husband, Ed.” She drew her husband closer. “First, I wanted to tell you how much we enjoyed your singing.”

  Drawing Raeanne closer to her, Janelle nodded her appreciation. “Thank you.”

  “Adrienne mentioned that you were looking for a house to buy in Bear Lake,” Doris said.

  “That’s true.” Not quite sure why Doris was so interested, Janelle maintained her smile.

  “We’ve decided to move to Denver. That’s where our children are now, and we’d like to be near them and our grandchildren. We just listed our house with Sharon Brevik at Lake Country Real Estate, but if you’d like to take a look, we’d love to have you drop by.”

  Janelle caught a glimpse of Adam’s sudden scowl. Was he already gearing up to find fault with the Jackson house as he had with others that had interested her? Was the house sitting on top of an oil pipeline? Or perhaps it was the victim of some other negative feature she hadn’t even imagined.

  “It’s three bedrooms with a daylight basement you could use as a playroom and formal dining room,” Ed interjected. “A good family home and just blocks from the school. We raised our three kids there.”

  “Then I’m sure you have many fond memories of your home,” Janelle said.

  Ed handed her a business card. “Come on by to take a look when you have a chance.”

  “We like the idea of someone like you living in our place and taking good care of it,” Doris added.

  “That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll drop by soon.”

 
Adam took her arm. “We’d better get going before those clouds let loose.”

  Looking up, Janelle realized the clouds she’d seen earlier were racing overhead, and they looked ominous. Just then, a lightning bolt streaked its way across the sky.

  Before she could say goodbye to the Jacksons, Adam began tugging her toward the truck. Almost manhandling her.

  She shrugged out of his grasp.

  What was wrong with him? Every time the conversation turned to her buying a house, he went all grumpy and possessive on her. Surely he didn’t intend for her and Raeanne to live in the cottage indefinitely?

  Theirs was a temporary arrangement. That’s all he had offered and the only agreement she had made.

  With a firm resolve, she forcefully ignored the possibility that their one kiss might be the prelude to more.

  Chapter Eleven

  Thunder and lightning raged across the sky. A waterfall of rain pounded on the deck, splashing the sliding glass door.

  Inside, Adam had started a fire as soon as they’d gotten home from church, and the house was cozy and warm. The girls were on the floor in front of the fireplace playing Candy Land. Janelle was working at the kitchen table creating a fall wreath with the dried flowers, wild grass and pinecones they’d gathered at their picnic.

  Lightning flashed again, almost immediately followed by a clap of thunder. Janelle flinched, and the girls looked up from their game.

  “Let me tell you, they don’t get storms like this in Seattle.”

  Adam shot her a lopsided grin. “This is nothing. You should see it when it really gets worked up.”

  She wasn’t eager to witness a storm worse than this one. She wasn’t afraid of thunder and lightning. Not exactly. But they sure put her on edge and made her jittery. Like a good mom, though, she tried not to let her nerves show.

  “We may lose power if this keeps up,” he said. “If we do, I’ll turn on the generator. In a bad storm, trees can blow over on the power lines and the whole town can be without electricity for several days.”