Montana Bride

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by Joan Johnston

Your loving sister,

  Miranda

  “Are you going to Texas, Mom?” Grace asked.

  Karl was grateful Grace had asked, because he couldn’t speak past the painful lump in his throat.

  “Not right away,” Hetty said, laying a hand on her very pregnant belly.

  “But once the baby is born you’ll be leaving the valley to rejoin your family?” Grace persisted.

  Hetty turned to meet Karl’s gaze, and reached out to grasp his hand. “My family is right here.”

  Karl pulled Hetty from her chair and held her tight. “I love you, Hetty.”

  “I love you, too, Karl.” She shot him a mischievous grin and said, “And maybe, someday, you’ll really believe it.”

  Karl thought of all the pain he’d felt, wondering if Hetty would ever love him. It was a sign of how certain he was of her love that she could now tease him about it. He looked forward to meeting her family and to having them meet his and Hetty’s children. “I want you to see your family again,” he said.

  “And I want to see them.” Hetty pulled Grace close as Karl reached for Griffin. “Maybe we can all go to Texas together in the fall.”

  “Does this mean I don’t get a dog?” Griffin said.

  Karl laughed and said to Hetty, “How did you pick these kids?”

  “I lucked out,” Hetty said. “They picked me.”

  “I guess we’re going to have both a dog and a cat running around the house,” Karl grumbled.

  Griffin whooped. “I get a dog, Grace!”

  Grace smiled and reminded Karl, “I’m taking Socks with me when Andy and I get married next June.”

  “June is a whole year off,” Karl said. “I’m happy to enjoy the chaos until then.”

  “I’ll be taking my leave,” the Pinkerton said. “I’ll be in touch, Mrs. Norwood, when I locate your sister.”

  Once the Pinkerton was gone, Karl sent an excited Grace and Griffin back to their room to get dressed. Then he pulled Hetty into his arms and hugged her tight—and felt the baby kick his hip bone.

  “Charlene is kicking again,” he said, placing his hand on her belly where he’d felt the kick.

  She took his hand and put it on the other side of her belly, where he felt a distinct bulge. “Charles is making himself known, too.”

  Karl stared at her blankly. “What do you mean?”

  She grinned and said, “I’d think a scientist like you would have figured it out by now.”

  “Figured what out?”

  “I’m a twin, Karl. I come from a family filled with twins.”

  Karl felt poleaxed. “Twins? You’re having twins?”

  “I can’t be sure. But I keep finding a foot over here.” She pointed to one side of her belly. “And another foot way over here.” She pointed to the other side of her belly. “What does that suggest to you, scientifically speaking?”

  Karl laughed and wrapped Hetty in his arms. “Double the joy. Double the fun. And a whole lot more love.”

  This book is dedicated to

  Roseanna J. Dirmann

  I had the joy of visiting the Bitterroot Valley in the fall of 2012 to do research for this novel. I want to thank the individuals who invited me into their homes and shared their family histories in the valley with me, including Dale and Juanita Maki and Bill and Donna Kyle. A special thank-you to Ernie and Sherry Palin, with whom I had a memorable meeting at the Montana Café in Darby.

  Helen Bibler gave me the idea to infect some of my loggers with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. The Flatheads and Salish didn’t know why folks got sick and died when they spent time in canyons on the west side of the Bitterroot River in spring, but they stayed away and stayed safe. Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, which was most often fatal at that time, was transmitted to humans by ticks found on animals like mountain goats, squirrels, and chipmunks.

  For the record, the lumber industry didn’t really get going in the Bitterroot Valley until the 1880s, but there were always small mills where lumber was cut.

  I couldn’t have begun my research without the introductions and directions (including maps) I got from Pat Easley at the Bitterroot Valley Chamber of Commerce. Thank you, Pat! I also want to thank Tamar Stanley, director of the Ravalli County Museum in Hamilton, for making the Bitterroot Valley Historical Society tome Bitterroot Trails, a wonderful history of the valley, available to me.

  A loving thanks to my writer friends Kat and Larry Martin, who provided bed and board in Clinton, so I could make my daily treks “up the valley” (which was really south) to Darby, where I set this book. You haven’t really lived until you’ve watched wild turkeys and a herd of deer trek across the front lawn while you’re having supper.

  I also want to thank my editor, Shauna Summers, for her suggestions to make this a better book. You’re a joy and a treasure!

  If you’ve come this far along the trail with me, you’re ready for the next installment of Wentworth family adventures. I’m already working on my next Bitter Creek novel, Josie’s story, which is coming soon.

  I welcome your comments or suggestions about my novels. You can reach me through my website at www.joanjohnston.com or through Facebook at www.facebook.com/joanjohnstonauthor.

  Happy reading,

  BY JOAN JOHNSTON

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