At Home in Dry Creek

At Home in Dry Creek
Janet Tronstad

With two kids to raise and her ex-husband in jail, Barbara Strong moved to Dry Creek for a fresh start. She loved the town, but apparently her feelings weren't reciprocated. Didn't the folks in Dry Creek trust her?Truth was, Sheriff Carl Wall had asked everyone to leave Barbara alone so she could heal. The sheriff had vowed to protect the pretty, vulnerable newcomer–from suitors and from any of her ex-husband's cronies who might try to contact her. But would he be able to do his job if he was in danger of losing his heart?

Sheriff Wall watched Barbara walk outside, leaving the reception behind.

Ordinarily he wouldn’t have followed her, but if anyone was going to make contact with her, they would do it at some event like this—a wedding—where they’d blend in. Strangers stood out in Dry Creek, but tonight any number could walk around, and no one would pay attention as long as they had a cup filled with punch.

Of course, the sheriff wasn’t worried about Barbara seeking her ex-husband’s criminal partners. He’d talked with her enough to know she wasn’t likely to turn to crime. But that didn’t mean her ex-husband’s partners wouldn’t try to get to him through her. Yeah, the sheriff told himself, he’d better go talk to her—just to make sure everything was okay….

JANET TRONSTAD

grew up on a small farm in central Montana. One of her favorite things to do was to visit her grandfather’s bookshelves, where he had a large collection of Zane Grey novels. She’s always loved a good story. Today, Janet lives in Pasadena, California, where she is a full-time writer.

At Home in Dry Creek

Janet Tronstad

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

Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it.

—Psalms 127:1

This book is dedicated to all of the

Mrs. Hargroves of the world who teach

Sunday school, befriend their neighbors

and do good to others.

Dear Reader,

I wish for all of you many days of pouring coffee and sharing fellowship at your church. Our lives are meant to be lived in community and, as often as not, that means taking time to serve each other.

I thoroughly enjoy writing about the church in Dry Creek, primarily because it is a focal point of the community. It is the place where troubles and joys are shared with the whole town.

I’d like to give a nod of thanks to people like Mrs. Hargrove who help such local communities run. I’ve known many women—and men—like her in the churches I have attended. You’ll usually find such people in the kitchens or in the Sunday school rooms or serving communion on certain Sundays. Without them, our shared communities wouldn’t be nearly as rich as they are.

Sincerely,

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

It wasn’t against the law for her to catch the bridal bouquet, Barbara Strong told herself as she cupped her hands to catch the flowers that had been thrown so expertly at her. Besides, if the bride didn’t care that the bouquet went to someone who wouldn’t fulfill the prediction of being the next to marry, what did Sheriff Wall care?

The sheriff was standing across the room from Barbara and scowling at her as if she’d just lifted the silverware. There was enough music and chatter all around that Barbara doubted anyone else noticed the sheriff’s frown—especially not now that everyone was looking at her.

Great, she thought, as she forced herself to smile. The whole town of Dry Creek, Montana; all two hundred people, had seen her catch Lizette’s bridal bouquet, and now they had one more story to tell each other about her.

For months, Barbara had thought that the interest people here showed in her and her two young children had been because their arrival was the only thing that had happened in this small town for a long time. The days had been cold and people hadn’t been able to make the trip into Billings very often. Some days there had been so much snow on the roads no one went anywhere. Added to that, everyone had complained that the television reception had been worse than usual for some reason this past winter.

People had been bored.

Barbara had understood why they would be looking for something new to entertain them. But she and her children had been here almost five months now. In television terms, they were last year’s reruns. Nobody should be watching them with such keen interest, especially not the sheriff.

The chatter increased as people came up to Barbara and congratulated her. It was dark outside, but inside the large community center, strings of tiny white lights glowed along the rustic wood walls. A circle of people stayed around Barbara after the initial flurry of congratulations had died down.