Inner Harbor

Inner Harbor
Lois Richer

Struggling to single-handedly raise her orphaned godson until a guardian was found, Annie Simmons was beginning to question God' s plans for her life. Russell Mitchard' s sudden appearance on her doorstep only added to her confusion. Especially when the stranger claimed that his grandfather' s will dictated that he marry Annie!As Russell saw it, Annie ought to accept his proposal. After all, without a husband, she wouldn' t stand a chance of gaining custody of the godson she obviously loved. But once she relented, Russell suddenly wasn' t sure about anything. Especially not being a family man. Could Annie' s strong faith help Russell dispel his doubts… and embrace the rich future God had planned for all of them?

“I wanted to talk with you about something else, Annie.”

“What could you possibly have to talk to me about? We’ve only just met.”

“I have another reason for staying in Safe Harbor.” Russ peered at her.

“Really?” She laughed nervously. There was something about those unusual eyes. “Well, according to the Chamber of Commerce there are a lot of reasons anyone would choose Safe Harbor.”

“It had nothing to do with the Chamber of Commerce. I’d already decided to set up shop here, just not quite yet. But then my grandfather upped the ante. More particularly, his will did.”

Something—a fizzle of awareness—shot through her. “Your grandfather’s will said you had to live in Safe Harbor?” she whispered.

“No.” He took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye. “My grandfather’s will said I have to marry you.”

Safe Harbor—

The town where everyone finds shelter

from the storm.

LOIS RICHER

lives in a small Canadian prairie town with her husband, who, she says, is a “wanna-be farmer.” She began writing in self-defense, as a way to escape. She says, “Come spring, tomato plants take over my flower beds, no matter how many I ‘accidentally’ pull up or ‘prune.’ By summer I’m fielding phone calls from neighbors who don’t need tomatoes this fall. Come September, no one visits us and anyone who gallantly offers to take a box invariably ends up with six. I have more recipes with tomatoes than with chocolate. Thank goodness for writing! Imaginary people with imaginary gardens are much easier to deal with!”

Lois is pleased to present her latest book for the Steeple Hill Love Inspired line. Please feel free to contact Lois at: Box 639, Nipawin, Saskatchewan, Canada S0E 1E0.

Inner Harbor

Lois Richer

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

You are my refuge and my shield,

and Your promises are my only source of hope.

—Psalms 119:114

Dear Reader,

Hello again. I’m glad you joined me for Inner Harbor. I hope you enjoyed Annie and Russ’s struggle to know God’s plan in their lives. Aren’t we humans funny? We put such limits on ourselves, limits that God ignores. But isn’t that the way it should be? In Him, our options are vast. He is always there, always listening, always waiting for us to come back, snuggle into His lap and listen. Then, when we know His way, we’re ready, like newborn lambs, to wobble onto our own feet and take tiny steps toward the life He wants for us. As spring brings rebirth, I wish for you new hopes and dreams, fresh plans and the chance to plant much joy in this world. And, of course, may God send you an abundance of love.

Blessings,

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

Prologue

The letter arrived by courier on Thanksgiving eve, a bulky missive with a legal firm listed as the sender.

A strange quiver of excitement rippled through Annie Simmons as she dropped the sandpaper block she’d been rubbing against a battered oak table and tore open the envelope with trembling fingers.

What now?

A legal-size white envelope with her name printed on it lay tucked inside, along with a letter. She sank down on the floor and scanned the typewritten words from the executor of Wharton Willoughby’s estate, informing her the envelope’s sealed contents had been discovered on his desk, addressed to her. She noticed that the stamp had never been canceled. Why hadn’t he mailed it?

Annie slit the envelope, slid out three pages covered in a thick black scrawl. She began to read.

Dear Annie

It’s been several weeks since I last visited you in Safe Harbor. I expect that you are well under way with your renovations now. Soon your bed-and-breakfast will be welcoming folks through its doors. Congratulations!

Annie, you’ve become the granddaughter I never had. We’ve shared so many things, allowed the other to pray over our worries. Perhaps that’s why I trust you won’t be offended by this letter from an old man who dares to make an outrageous request.