Handprints. Myrna Temte
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Abby Walsh was the answer to their problems.
She was warm and nurturing and certainly knew a lot about children. She’d make a terrific mother for his daughter, Kitty, or any other child. All Jack had to do was marry her and his life finally would get back to at least a semblance of normal.
Yeah, that would work. Marry Abby. Solve Kitty’s problems. Solve his own problems and get a sexy wife in the bargain. Even if she did irritate him at times, there was no problem with physical attraction. Not on his part, anyway.
Jack didn’t think Abby was indifferent to him, either, though he couldn’t say whether that was his ego or his instincts talking. It wouldn’t hurt to check it out. Subtly, of course. It might even be fun. What a concept.
He’d be so smooth and charming, Abby would never know what hit her!
Dear Reader,
It’s the little things that mean so much. In fact, more than once, “little things” have fueled Myrna Temte’s Special Edition novels. One of her miniseries evolved from a newspaper article her mother sent her. The idea for her first novel was inspired by something she’d heard a DJ say on her favorite country-western radio station. And Myrna Temte’s nineteenth book, Handprints, also evolved in an interesting way. A friend received a special Mother’s Day present—a picture of her little girl with finger-painted handprints and a sweet poem entitled “Handprints.” Once the story was relayed to Myrna, the seed for another romance novel was planted. And the rest, as they say, is history….
There are plenty of special somethings this month. Bestselling author Joan Elliott Pickart delivers Single with Twins, the story of a photojournalist who travels the world in search of adventure, only to discover that family makes his life complete. In Lisa Jackson’s The McCaffertys: Matt, the rugged rancher hero feels that law enforcement is no place for a lady—but soon finds himself making a plea for passion….
Don’t miss Laurie Paige’s When I See Your Face, in which a fiercely independent officer is forced to rely on others when she’s temporarily blinded in the line of duty. Find out if there will be a Match Made in Wyoming in Patricia McLinn’s novel, when the hero and heroine find themselves snowbound on a Wyoming ranch! And The Child She Always Wanted by Jennifer Mikels tells the touching tale of a baby on the doorstep bringing two people together for a love too great for either to deny.
Asking authors where they get their ideas often proves an impossible question. However, many ideas come from little things that surround us. See what’s around you. And if you have an idea for a Special Edition novel, I’d love to hear from you. Enjoy!
Best,
Karen Taylor Richman, Senior Editor
Handprints
Myrna Temte
Many thanks to the following people for help with research for this book: Mary Buckham, Teresa Buddington, Brentwood Elementary School; Alison Colson, ASCW; Kathie Hayes, Chase Middle School; Rachel E. Sterett, Deputy Prosecuting Attorney; Laurie Summers, M.B.
This book is dedicated to the loving memory of Pepper, my furry little friend, dear companion and tireless dispenser of unconditional love. I hope you finally get to catch those evil squirrels in doggy heaven.
MYRNA TEMTE
grew up in Montana and attended college in Wyoming, where she met and married her husband. Marriage didn’t necessarily mean settling down for the Temtes—they have lived in six different states, including Washington, where they currently reside. Moving so much is difficult, the author says, but it is also wonderful stimulation for a writer.
Though always a “readaholic,” Myrna never dreamed of becoming an author. But while spending time at home to care for her first child, she began to seek an outlet from the never-ending duties of housekeeping and child rearing. She started reading romances and soon became hooked, both as a reader and a writer. Now Myrna appreciates the best of all possible worlds—a loving family and a challenging career that lets her set her own hours and turn her imagination loose.
HANDPRINTS
You like a shiny, tidy house,
And sometimes I do, too.
But I have lots of things to learn,
Like tying my own shoes.
I hurry to try this and that,
And often make a mess.
But gee, I always have such fun,
’Cause, Mommy, you’re the best.
You always love my pictures,
My mud pies are great art.
So please don’t clean these handprints up,
I made them for your heart.
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
Epilogue
Chapter One
Assistant County Prosecutor Jack Granger parked his dark blue sedan in the visitors’ lot at Mountain View Elementary School, muttering, “Why me and why today?” Rubbing the knotted muscles at the back of his neck, he racked his brain for any excuse to leave without seeing his daughter Kitty’s teacher. Unfortunately none existed.
It didn’t matter that it was 6:10 on a Thursday afternoon, or that he’d had a brutal day at work, or that he had a briefcase stuffed with case files he needed to read before morning. Kitty was his responsibility. When Ms. Walsh requested a conference, he felt obligated to be there.
Again. And again. And again.
Any normal teacher would have given up on him and gone home by now, but Ms. Walsh was hardly normal. She was the most frustrating individual he’d ever met; considering he worked in the criminal justice system, that said something about her. Okay, maybe that was too harsh—but having a rational discussion with her seemed about as likely as finding a completely reformed sex offender.
With Ms. Walsh, everything was about feelings, not facts. Jack would rather be locked up in a cell for an hour with an armed serial killer than have to figure out her thought processes. He wondered if even God knew where that touchy-feely little woman’s mind would go next.
To give Ms. Walsh her due, however, Jack admired her dedication to her students. If she said she’d wait until he arrived, she would do exactly that—even on a sunny afternoon in May. Even if she had to wait until midnight.
Resigning himself to another round of aggravation, he straightened his tie and got out of the car. He reached back inside for his suit coat, hesitating while he questioned the need for such formality. On second thought, when it came to dealing with Ms. Walsh, he needed all the formality he could get.
The last time he’d met with her, she’d nearly driven him crazy. With the constant