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A Father For Bella
Jill Weatherholt
Another roadblock…or the family she’s looking for?When single mom Faith Brennan discovers the Virginia inn she grew up in is for sale, she’s determined to make a bid. Even if that means going head-to-head with handsome real estate broker Joshua Carlson. But competing with Joshua would be a lot easier if Faith’s young daughter wasn’t growing so attached to him…and if Faith could stop picturing running the inn with Joshua by her side.
Another roadblock...
or the family she’s looking for?
When single mom Faith Brennan discovers the Virginia inn she grew up in is for sale, she’s determined to make a bid. Even if that means going head-to-head with handsome real estate broker Joshua Carlson. But competing with Joshua would be a lot easier if Faith’s young daughter wasn’t growing so attached to him...and if Faith could stop picturing running the inn with Joshua by her side.
Weekdays, JILL WEATHERHOLT works for the City of Charlotte. On the weekend, she writes contemporary stories about love, faith and forgiveness. Raised in the suburbs of Washington, DC, she now resides in North Carolina. She holds a degree in psychology from George Mason University and a paralegal studies certification from Duke University. She shares her life with her real-life hero and number one supporter. Jill loves connecting with readers at jillweatherholt.com (http://www.jillweatherholt.com).
Also By Jill Weatherholt (#u41ab1d2c-c2a6-573d-bce7-2c31a170e45d)
Love Inspired
Second Chance Romance
A Father for Bella
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A Father for Bella
Jill Weatherholt
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) (#u41ab1d2c-c2a6-573d-bce7-2c31a170e45d)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08556-4
A FATHER FOR BELLA
© 2018 Jill Weatherholt
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Joshua shot her a look. “I’m here for the auction.”
Silence filled the room.
Faith fiddled with the guest towels before she finally spoke. “If that’s the only reason you’ve come, you’re wasting your time. There’s not going to be an auction.”
Obviously, the woman was in denial. She’d lose her home and possibly her job. Maybe he could hire her—but really, why would she want to work for him? “What makes you say that?”
“I plan to contact the owner. I’ll make him an offer, so an auction won’t be necessary.”
“And you have that kind of—” He bit his tongue, realizing he’d overstepped his bounds.
She grimaced. “Not right at the moment, but I’ll get it. This property is way too important to me to let it go. I’ll explain it to the owners—they’ll understand.”
If she only knew who she was up against, she’d realize she was fighting a losing battle. His father could care less about her family. He certainly didn’t care about his own. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
—Hebrews 11:1
Dear Reader (#u41ab1d2c-c2a6-573d-bce7-2c31a170e45d),
When I was a little girl, the sound of late night sirens sent me running to my parents’ bedroom, seeking refuge underneath their covers. I feared the emergency vehicle was on its way to our house.
Unlike Faith Brennan, who experienced the devastating loss of her firefighter husband that resulted in a fear of hospitals and triggered panic attacks, my distress was unfounded. In time, I outgrew that anxiety, but others took root.
Fear seeps into all of our lives, weaving itself around our heart and mind. It comes in many forms, both big and small. Left unchecked, it can interfere with our daily living and prevent us from being in the will of God. Living apprehensive of what might happen can often create more anxiety than actually facing the fear head on.
The longer we allow fear to linger, the more difficult it is to break free. Faith and Joshua released their fears, and you can, too. Make a decision to step out in faith and live the life God has in store for you. Remember, He is greater than any obstacle you may be facing.
Thank you so much for visiting Whispering Slopes. Having the opportunity to write a second Love Inspired story, set in a fictional town of the Shenandoah Valley, has been another dream come true.
One of the best things about being a writer is connecting with readers, so be sure to sign up to receive my bimonthly blog posts via email @jillweatherholt.wordpress.com (https://jillweatherholt.wordpress.com) or email me at authorjillweatherholt@gmail.com. You can also find me on Facebook @jillweatherholtauthor (https://www.facebook.com/jillweatherholtauthor) and Twitter @jillweatherholt (https://twitter.com/jillweatherholt).
Jill
To Derek, my forever hero.
Contents
Cover (#ubf8d1f2f-45e0-5a90-9ac1-671e4835f9f0)
Back Cover Text (#u7f62f8ff-1642-5c21-89cd-95f959d64af8)
About the Author (#u7e20205c-f13c-5058-a07d-40b9d634b878)
Booklist (#ued6599d5-4927-5f7a-9152-1dfaae81ab83)
Title Page (#udb701037-b67c-54eb-a78d-090666646f7d)
Copyright (#u6d878f9d-90fc-5fa6-a033-e33856f47f3e)
Introduction (#u01286722-d451-50fd-ae2e-3ea52efe2e0f)
Bible Verse (#u1f2cc7ca-aacb-58d1-8972-6fab6b458465)
Dear Reader (#uc38f2cba-ad9e-58aa-a2ea-61ae930a139f)
Dedication (#u63ebb9b0-e789-55fc-a1d4-e50452735446)
Chapter One (#u915b21ed-3f28-5ee0-b394-d045283fb3c6)
Chapter Two (#u72f8365e-b12c-5591-8a64-4af8328e76f2)
Chapter Three (#u5f408f76-68db-5bc0-aa9b-cf5e9416e5e3)
Chapter Four (#uae93852a-bbc0-50fd-b541-651703dce01b)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u41ab1d2c-c2a6-573d-bce7-2c31a170e45d)
“After a cold day on the slopes, come in for a warm stay at the Black Bear Inn and Ski Resort in Whispering Slopes, voted Shenandoah Valley’s most popular inn.” The radio advertisement warmed Joshua Carlson’s heart as thoughts of his mother filled his mind. The Black Bear Inn—her favorite place. He had to save it.
He hit the turn signal on his silver luxury sedan. The rear wheels spun on a patch of ice as he continued up the steep driveway. A dusting of snow covered the manicured hedges lining the grounds. Puffs of smoke billowed from two massive chimneys and drifted toward the picturesque snowcapped mountains encompassing the property. Mahogany rocking chairs filled the wraparound porch on the two-story brick-and-stone home.
He zipped into the last available parking space. Good sign—the place was busy. No surprise there, because his father never owned anything that didn’t make his wallet bulge.
Joshua stepped out of the car and pulled the crisp mountain air deep into his lungs. He’d always loved the smell of fresh pine. For the first time in months, his shoulders relaxed while he repeated slow and even breaths. The bitter divorce had taken a toll on him both physically and emotionally. He sauntered up the sidewalk, forgoing his luggage for now. He gripped the icy doorknob, wishing he’d worn gloves.
The pine floor gleamed as he crossed the threshold of the front entrance. He inhaled the citrus aroma filling the air. A winding staircase led to the second floor, where he spied a young couple sneaking a kiss—probably newlyweds. I wonder how long that will last. He shook away the negative thought. Not every relationship ends with your first and only love walking out the door.
“Bella! Where are you?”
With a jerk, he bolted to the back of the inn toward a woman’s frantic scream.
“Bella!”
Joshua burst through the kitchen’s swinging door and ran straight out the open back door. “What’s going on?”
The woman jumped when he spoke. “It’s my daughter, Bella. I can’t find her.” Tall and slender, dressed in blue jeans and a crisp white blouse, she raked her fingers through her wavy caramel brown hair spilling down her shoulders. She sprinted to the side of the building.
Joshua trailed behind, shoving his hands deep inside his coat pockets. It was early January and much too cold for her to go without a coat.
“Bella!” she shouted again and pressed her palms to the side of her head. “She asked if she could play outside with Plato. I told her to stay in sight.” Her voice grew hoarse.
“Plato?”
“Her new puppy.” The woman took off like a gazelle, stopping short at the edge of the forest. “It’ll be dark soon.” She cupped her hands to the sides of her mouth. “Bella! Answer me, please.” She spun around and their eyes locked. “She’s almost six and she’s small for her age. And the forest is full of black bears and coyotes.”
He swallowed hard, but the lump remained lodged in his throat. His hand grazed her forearm and she flinched at his touch. “Sorry—we’ll find her, but we’ll need some flashlights. It’ll be dark soon.”
“I can find her myself,” she snapped.
“We’ll find her sooner with both of us looking. Please, get me a flashlight, too.” He sensed his presence made her feel like a mouse cornered by a barnyard cat, but there wasn’t time to explain who he was and that he was only trying to help. The only things that mattered were that the sun was sinking fast and her daughter was somewhere in the thick forest.
Her left eyebrow arched. “I don’t need—”
Boy, she was stubborn. “Yes, you do need my help and right now we’re wasting daylight.” He rubbed his hand across his cleanly shaved face.
She turned on her heel and bolted toward the open back door.
Joshua glanced to the sky. Daylight was fading as though on a dimmer switch.
The woman ran from the house with a flashlight in each hand, hesitating before passing it to him. “Here.” For a second, her eyes narrowed as she scanned his face. “I’m Faith Brennan. Who are you?” She stepped back. “What are you doing back here?”
Of course she’d be alarmed. A strange man comes out of nowhere and wants her to go into the woods with him. “I’m Joshua Carlson—I’m a guest at the inn.” He followed behind her as she tossed quick glances over her slender shoulder. Leaves crunched underneath his Burberry leather shoes. Massive Fraser firs canopied the trampled path. Fraser fir, the only type of tree his father ever brought into their lavish Bethesda, Maryland, home at Christmas time. They’re the best tree, and we will only allow the best in this house. He forced his father’s voice from his head. “Is Bella familiar with the forest?”
“No. The path leads to the Shenandoah River. I’ve told her the force of the water is strong since we’ve had some heavy rains, but if Plato took off down the path, she’d go after him.” Faith shook her flashlight and rammed it once against her thigh. “The batteries—they’re going dead.”
With a slight movement, his shoes slid on a patch of ice. “It’ll be black as ink soon. Let me go ahead, I can move faster alone. You head back toward the inn, but keep calling her name.” Thoughts of the path leading to the river propelled him deeper into darkness.
“Joshua!”
