Among The Tulips. Cheryl Wolverton

Among The Tulips - Cheryl  Wolverton


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      She hoped tonight she might have some time with Victor alone. Tonight she would tell him how she felt, if he didn’t tell her.

      A knock sounded at the door.

      She carefully made her way across to the door and pulled it open.

      Her mouth dropped in stunned shock.

      Victor stood there, dressed in what had to be a very expensive tux, waiting to be allowed in.

      “I take it you like it?” he asked, mildly amused.

      “I—wow!” She blushed. He was every bit the movie star now.

      He walked in and turned to her, taking her hands. “You are a fresh breath of beauty in a world too old and cynical, my dear.”

      “I feel like Cinderella at the ball,” she said lightly.

      CHERYL WOLVERTON

      RITA® Award finalist Cheryl Wolverton has well over a dozen books to her name. Her very popular Hill Creek, Texas, series has been a finalist in many contests. Having grown up in Oklahoma, lived in Kentucky, Texas, Louisiana and now home once more in Oklahoma, Cheryl and her husband of more than twenty years and their two children, Jeremiah and Christina, always considered themselves Oklahomans transplanted to grow and flourish in the South. Readers are always welcome to contact her at P.O. Box 106, Faxon, OK 73540, or e-mail at [email protected]. You can also visit her Web site at www.cherylwolverton.com.

      Among the Tulips

      Cheryl Wolverton

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      You say, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.” But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich.

      —Revelations 3:17-18.

      My family, for helping clean and do laundry while this story poured out of me!

       Thanks Steve, Christina and Jeremiah.

      And my online friends, who are always so supportive and helpful.

      Dear Reader,

      Sometimes ideas just come to you—in the middle of the night. And as any writer will tell you, when that happens you must get up right then and start writing, or else.

      This was one of these books.

      This has been one of the hardest years of my life, yet God has blessed me richly in my career and my spiritual walk. As I thought of the many areas in which God has blessed me, I thought of the verse in Revelations that tells us we often think we are rich when in reality we’re naked.

      That’s the case for our hero, who has everything money can buy, yet is empty inside because he’s missing the greatest gift of all—Jesus Christ.

      Enjoy the read, and any mistakes in Dutch are my fault.

      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

      Chapter Sixteen

      Prologue

      You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich…

      Revelation 3: 17, 18

      “It’s going to be your fortieth birthday. That calls for something really special. I say go for it!”

      Thirty-nine-year-old Annie Hooper glanced at blond Cynthia, one of the friends she was having her early birthday dinner with. She shook her mousy brown-haired head at her fairer friend and thought again how different the two looked. Cynthia looked fresh from a salon while Annie felt she looked like…a mother. “I don’t even know where I’d go. Besides, the kids need me.” Annie laid down her fork and lifted her napkin to pat her lips.

      “Susan and Mark?” Amy piped up, her auburn eyebrows shooting up with a bit of disbelief. “Oh, come on, Annie. Mark is thirty-three and has a great job and Susan is thirty-two and is working as a nurse. Face it. Your stepkids are grown and need to stop depending on you for everything. They certainly don’t need you here providing food and shelter for them. You have to start living again. You’re still young.”

      Although Susan and Mark weren’t officially her children, she thought of them as such, though they rarely called her Mom. No, they had their real mother, with whom they still stayed in contact. After running a hand through her hair she sighed. Unfortunately, the kids always had a way of guilting her into staying at home when she tried to plan something, like last year when she’d said she had been going to get a passport and had actually brought home some travel brochures. But her friends were right. She was young; the kids were older, so shouldn’t she start living again?

      Annie dropped her napkin on the table.

      Her two friends sighed in unison.

      They knew that wasn’t all that was bothering her. “The kids still miss their dad,” Annie said simply. She leaned back in the cushioned chair covered in lovely mauve brocade.

      “It’s been four years,” Cynthia replied. “They need to move on with their life. You need to move on with your life.” She too had finished her lunch. She nodded as the waitress took her empty plate.

      It had been four years since Annie had lost her husband. They had been hard years in some ways, lonely years as well. Sometimes his death seemed as if it happened only yesterday, especially when problems were building up or the kids were pulling a number on her. At night, however, when she was alone in bed or watching something on TV, it seemed as if he’d been gone forever.

      “You always said when Harry retired, you were going to go somewhere different for a real vacation,” Amy added. “I know you got your passport last year with just such an intention.” Amy took the last bite of her dessert and then handed her plate to the waitress.

      Yes, Annie had gotten her passport. In a fit of frustration and desperation she’d decided she was going on a trip. Her kids, however, had been aghast that she’d forgotten their daddy so easily and was going to traipse off into the unknown.

      “Your kids like knowing you’re there so they can bum more of Daddy’s money off you—” Cynthia started.

      “And get you to do their laundry—” Amy added.

      “This isn’t about their dad being gone,” Cynthia finished.

      Annie lifted her water glass and took a sip, allowing the ice-cold water to wash down her throat and take away the building tension.

      “I just don’t know if I can travel there by myself or even if I should.” Frustration slipped in, and she silently prayed for


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