Army Captain Millanie McAllen finally arrives at the
Amarillo, Texas airport
after traveling half way around the world with shrapnel in
her leg and a
cast on her leg. Returning a hero, with no family except
a brother in New
York and dozens of cousins in Harmony, this is the only
place she can call
home. At nineteen both of her parents were lost within
one year, leaving
Millanie with nothing but memories of Harmony, where she
spent the first
ten years of her life before they moved to Dallas.
With all the rent-a-car booths now closed, finding a ride
to Harmony
might have been a problem if a nice professor/accountant
type man, Drew
Cunningham, from Twisted Creek, hadn't offered her a ride
on his way
home. She only wants to find a place where she belongs.
Millanie is
barely settled in at the Winter's Inn run by a crazy older
woman, Martha Q
Patterson, before she is inducted back to service for an
undercover
investigation to locate a man with ties to funding trouble
all over the world
who might be hiding in the panhandle of Texas. Her local
contact, a
young woman posing as a palm reader/psychic, Kare
Cunningham, is
none other than Drew's quirky sister. Drew has secrets of
his own,
hindering Millanie's ability to give in to feelings of
love and trust.
I certainly enjoyed this charming tale full of excitement,
mystery,
suspense and an abundance of love and emotion. Jodi
Thomas is a pro at
giving us those realistic and emotional characters that
worm their way
into our minds and souls. ONE TRUE HEART is an intriguing
story that encompasses the small
town heartwarming characters that make Thomas' stories
wonderful reads. I
read every single book I can get my hands on by Jodi
Thomas. She gives
me hours of pleasure and is my hero!
New York Times bestselling author Jodi Thomas takes
us back to Harmony, Texas—a small town where love blooms
and
secrets of the past threaten to alter the
future…
Millanie McAllen is always logical. But
after returning to her childhood home, she learns that
some
things are beyond explanation—like her undeniable passion
for Drew Cunningham…
After finding success as a
singer on the road, Beau Yates returns to Harmony to make
peace with his dying father—only to find the woman he’s
been
dreaming of for years. But the secrets they discover might
be too much for him to bear…
When Johnny Wheeler is
charged with his wife’s murder, he turns to the only
person
who believes he’s innocent. Fortune teller Kare
Cunningham’s
life has always danced around reality—but Johnny is able
to
ground her like no other…
As their paths cross in
new, captivating directions, the townspeople of Harmony
need
to learn to love and let go in order to live together in
their little slice of heaven.
Excerpt
Rick Husband International Airport
Amarillo, Texas Late August
Chapter 1
Millanie McAllen used the backs of the airline seats to
hop
her way from the tiny toilet to the exit as the flight
attendant pulled out her crutches from the front storage.
“Sorry, Captain McAllen, I thought everyone was off.” The
girl apologized with a quick smile at Millanie.
“No problem. I needed a few minutes to change.”
Millanie’s
army jacket rested over her arm. Her name bar and ribbons
sparkled in the plane’s lighting. She traded the
attendant
her uniform for the crutches as she read the girl’s
nametag.
“Trudi, would you mind folding this into my bag? When I
walk off, or rather limp off, this plane and into Texas,
I’m
no longer in the Army.”
While the attendant did as requested, Millanie tried to
straighten the wrinkled long-sleeve blouse and gathered
prairie skirt she’d changed into. They weren’t her
style,
far too lacy, but when she’d bought them at the airport in
Dallas all she’d been thinking about was something easy to
get on over the cast on her right leg.
“I could call for a chair.” Trudi looked at her with
trained sympathy in her eyes. “This time of night they’re
never busy.”
“No, thanks. I can handle this.” After four plane
changes,
an all night layover at La Guardia with a leg hurting like
they’d left shrapnel in it, simply walking out of the last
airport seemed a piece of cake.
“What time of night is it?” Millanie guessed she sounded
a
bit crazy but she’d lost all track of time flying from
halfway around the world.
“Almost eleven. The airport will be closing soon. We’re
the last flight, I think.”
Looping her purse over one shoulder so it was out of the
way
and wrapping the bag strings around the long strap, the
newly decommissioned Captain McAllen hobbled off the
plane.
She refused to look back and take one more glance of
sympathy. She’d had enough to last a lifetime.
The air was different here in West Texas. Unlike anywhere
in the world. Thin and pure with the smell of the earth
spiced in by the wind. She hadn’t been back to Harmony
for
six years, but she swore she could smell cattle and oil
circulating in the air conditioned breeze even inside the
terminal.
Part of the crowd who’d come to stand and wave flags and
cheer for hometown warriors returning on her flight were
now
milling around, picking up streamers they’d thrown and
rolling up flags. She’d heard soldiers talking when
they’d
waited
at the USO in Dallas. One had been told about the
welcoming
group that would be waiting for
them when they landed in Amarillo.
All the men got excited to be going home to a place where
they would be welcomed by a crowd of friends, family and
fellow veterans.
Millanie had limped her way down half a mile of crowded
gates at DFW to find a clothing store. It sold the
gaudiest
western clothes in Texas. Her choices had been jeans with
rhinestone crosses on her butt or a gathered skirt that
looked like it had been hanging around since the sixties.
Her choice was made simply on which would go over her
cast.
Looking down at her attire, she decided her
great-great-grandmother probably wore the same kind of
outfit when she climbed off the covered wagon almost a
hundred and fifty years ago to homestead. Patrick and
Annie
McAllen hadn’t been
much more than kids when they’d helped start Harmony.
Maybe
that was why, no matter where she traveled, the little
town
would always be home. Her roots were here and maybe,
somehow, she’d find a life here.
She took a deep breath and smiled. Two more hours and
she’d
be able to rest. She’d be in Harmony.
By the time she made it downstairs to luggage claim
everyone
else on her flight was long gone, and she’d sweated so
much
her brown curly hair lay plastered as if it were a swim
cap.
Her army issued duffle bag was circling like a homely
drunk
after last call.
I can do this, she set her mind. Grab the bag. Drag it
the
thirty feet to the rent-a-car booth. Somehow she’d manage
to get her right leg in the car and drive with her left.
The thought crossed her mind that she was an idiot for not
calling Major Katherine Cummings or one of her dozen
cousins
in Harmony to come get her. But Millanie, as always, had
to
prove she could handle everything on her own. She’d
been that way since she was nineteen and lost both her
parents within a year.
Besides, the major had married the local funeral director
and had a baby since they’d seen each other and Millanie
had
no idea what her married name was. They weren’t really
friends, just two soldiers who had a town in common.
Millanie had listed Harmony as her hometown and Katherine
had been going there when she retired.
And now I’m returning, Millanie thought. Something she
figured she’d do after twenty or thirty years in the army,
not after twelve. One stranger in a crowd outside an
embassy one night had changed all her plans and ended her
career. Nothing personal. She was just in the wrong
place
when he wanted to kill himself.
Correction, the wound not only ended her career, but every
plan she ever made. Now she had no direction, no life,
and
no future in a job she loved. She was simply drifting and
any direction, even Harmony, Texas, seemed a good place to
go.
As she reached down trying to balance on one leg while she
grabbed for the duffle bag, the strap of her purse slid
forward causing her to miss the handle.
“Damn,” she mumbled.
A laugh came from just behind her.
She straightened and turned slowly, shifting her weight to
regain her balance. No matter the injury, she’d be ready
to
fight. Twelve years as a soldier didn’t wash away
overnight.
As she’d been trained to do, she sized up the man standing
a
few feet away. Tall, lean, in his mid-thirties with hair
too long to be stylish and intelligent eyes behind his
dark
framed glasses. A teacher or an accountant by the way he
dressed, unarmed of course, and single she’d guess. Men
who
had a woman in their life gave it away in
more than wearing a ring.
She relaxed and faked a smile.
“Sorry.” He waved his hands in front of him as if erasing
his outburst. “I shouldn’t have laughed, but for a moment
you looked like you were playing some kind of strange game
people waste their money on at the county fair. Reaching
for the impossible.”
“You hang out at a lot of county fairs?” she asked
thinking
this guy didn’t look like he ever left the library, or
study, or lab, or wherever geeks like him hide out. She
could almost picture a tiny hoarder’s apartment with
stacks
of books serving as tables. He probably drove one of
those
compact cars that could almost serve as a
paperweight when it wasn’t puttering along.
“I hang around them all the time. Can’t stay away from
the
great fried food.” He lied of course. “How about I grab
your bag when it comes around again as my apology?”
She nodded her thank you, guessing he wouldn’t be able to
lift her bag. But she wasn’t a captain in the army
anymore;
maybe she shouldn’t be so critical. She must simply look
like a woman, poorly dressed and stranded in an airport.
Maybe
she’d play the role all the way to the rent-a-car counter.
Then she’d say thank you and he’d leave thinking he’d done
his good deed for the day.
The bag circled and, to her surprise, he picked it up.
Without lowering her one piece of luggage to the ground,
he
said, “Where you headed? I’ll carry it for you.”
She smiled, thinking this plan was too easy. “I’m going
to
a bed and breakfast in a little town called Harmony but
that’s too far for you to carry my bag. How about just
dropping it at the car counter over there?”
They both started toward the far end of the terminal just
as
the light above the last car booth blinked twice and went
out.
“Great,” Millanie muttered. “Now I’ll have to find a cab
and stay in Amarillo tonight.”
The professor type next to her spoke. “You could ride
with
me. I’m heading that direction and would be happy to give
you a lift.”
No was already on her lips, but when she looked at him she
almost laughed. The man couldn’t look less like a serial
killer. Odds were he’d be a safe driver who never
traveled
more than five miles over the speed limit. Her mother’s
warning of not getting in cars with strangers surely
didn’t
apply to this geek.
When she didn’t answer, he must have felt the need to
testify. “You’re in no danger, miss. I have a cabin out
near Twisted Creek. It’s no trouble to drop you in
Harmony
on the way.” He didn’t seem to be trying to talk her into
the
ride, just stating facts.
“I wouldn’t mind paying for half the gas,” she offered.
“Oh, no. I’ll be happy for the company. A little
conversation will keep me awake. I make this flight to
visit my mother in Chicago and this last leg on the road
home always seems endless when I’m driving alone.”
Now she knew she was safe. He’d been to visit his mother.
How sweet. He’d have to live near Harmony if he knew
about
Twisted Creek and everyone out there knew everyone else.
“I’ll hike out to the far parking lot and get my car. You
wait here by the side door. I’ll be right back.” He
shoved
her duffle bag by the side entrance and disappeared.
She blinked, then had to force her eyes to stay open. The
endless traveling without sleep was catching up to her.
The
stillness of the empty terminal offered her nothing to
focus
on, nothing to help her stay awake.
She wasn’t sure which way the professor type had gone.
Between the pain in her leg and the lack of sleep, she
might
have drifted off while still on her feet, suspended like a
fashion nightmare of a scarecrow between two crutches.
Moving through the side door, she welcomed the cool air of
the panhandle plains night.
Since she’d been injured, her life had gone completely to
hell. The doctors patched her up, but she’d had no close
family to call. She could handle this part of the
recovery
on her own. Her one brother lived in New York and would
have just complained that she should have listened to him
and not joined the army anyway if she’d bothered to call
him. Or worse, want her to come to New York until the
cast
was off.
Millanie needed peace, not people. She needed time to
find
a direction, to find a life.
Breathing deep relaxing breaths, she stared up at the full
moon. In a few hours she’d be back to where she’d spent
the
first ten years of her life. The day before she’d turned
eleven, her dad got transferred to Dallas. The family
moved
to a bigger house, her father made more money, but she’d
never felt she belonged there. Dallas was just where she
lived for a while; Harmony would always be home. Harmony
was a place where all the world seemed balanced, even if
it
was mostly just memories in her mind.
Out of the darkness behind the terminal building, Millanie
heard movement and tried to focus her tired mind on
reality.
The noise came again, muffled laughter, hurried footsteps.
Custodians taking a smoke break? Teenagers painting the
outside of the building? Huge rats? She didn’t really
care.
All she wanted to do was get to the room at the bed and
breakfast she’d rented and sleep for three days.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw them. Three
men
advancing in the tall, dry grass. For a moment she was
back
on embassy guard duty. Listening. Standing ready. On
alert.
Opening her eyes, and her ears, she took in her
surroundings
in the circles of light that she stood between. Amarillo,
Texas. Not another country. Not a war.
Her vision adjusted. The three men were shadows now,
crouched low, hiding behind the bushes made from pampas
grass. They were keeping off the sidewalk, but she could
hear their every move.
She knew the moment they spotted her. Halted footsteps.
Lowered voices.
The one in front straightened and slowed his pace. The
other two followed. Now, the men who’d been creeping
closer
appeared to be simply walking toward her. They were
young,
loose jointed probably due to drugs or too much alcohol.
“Hey, lady, that door still open?” the leader asked
casually
as if he couldn’t have easily guessed she’d just come out.
She nodded, her tired body feeling adrenaline begin to
pump.
They all three wore old ball caps and dirty, baggy jeans
low
on their hips. Druggies, early twenties, probably armed
but
untrained. Out of habit, her mind filed facts about each.
Only one came nearer and looked in the terminal. “No
one’saround,” he whispered back to the others.
“Well, let’s grab it and go.” The second one moved
closer,
his whisper carrying easily on the wind.
Millanie kept her head down as if she were paying them no
attention but their planning drifted to her in the
midnight
air.
“We could grab this woman’s purse,” one mumbled. “It’s
probably got more cash in it than we’d get for that laptop
Cherie left out.”
Millanie fought the urge to glance back and see which one
of
the rent-a-car counters had a laptop setting out. She’d
bet
it was the counter below where the last light had blinked
twice.
The leader took off his hat and scratched his head as if
to
stimulate his thinking. Then he nodded and they all three
advanced toward her.
“You waiting for somebody?” the leader shouted. “We could
help you to your car, lady.”
She forced her body to relax as she shifted just enough
that
her purse slipped to the
concrete at her feet. The bag followed. “I’m fine.” She
finally turned her full attention to the pack. “You boys
don’t want to do this.”
“What?” the talky one said still edging closer. “We’re
just
offering to help a poor lady in distress. How about you
let
me carry that expensive looking purse you just dropped? I
don’t mind taking it off your hands.”
“Step away,” Millanie said with cold calmness. “I don’t
want to hurt you.”
All three laughed and showed their teeth like wild dogs.
“Step away,” she repeated just as the leader jumped
forward,
bending to grab the bag at her feet.
Reacting, trained into her muscles by practice and combat,
fired her movements.
She swung her crutch, hitting the leader in the knee and
sending him down hard on the concrete. When the second
one
advanced from the other side planning to grip one of her
arms, she let the other crutch fall against the building
as she
delivered a chopping blow across his throat sending him to
ground fighting to draw air.
The third man had crept forward, but hesitated when one of
his friends gasped and the other began to cry as he whined
that the bitch had broken his knee.
Millanie lifted her crutch as if it were a rifle and
shoved
it hard into the third man’s abdomen before he could
react.
When he winced in pain she said, “Pick up your friends and
get out of here. I’m too tired to turn you three in, but
if
I ever see any of you again, you’ll be sorry.”
Holding his middle, the coward of the group, and probably
the smartest, helped his friends limp away. Within
seconds
they were no more than whispered swear words in the
darkness.
Millanie leaned against the building and closed her eyes
as
the sound of a car pulling around to the side of the
building reached her tired senses. She remained still as
the
vehicle stopped and the driver jumped out.
“I’m sorry I took so long,” an educated, low voice said as
her professor/accountant approached her. “Oh, you’ve
dropped your crutch. You poor thing. Let me help you.”
A strong arm circled her waist and helped her to a
battered
van. She made no protest as the tall man from Twisted
Creek
settled her into the passenger seat, carefully lifting her
broken leg and locking her seat belt. His hands were
gentle, a caretaker’s hands as he spread a blanket over
her
and propped her cast up with a huge stuffed toy unicorn.
Of all the questions she could have asked this stranger,
the
one thing she could think of after he loaded her duffle
bag
in the back and climbed into the driver’s seat was, “You
carry a unicorn in your van?”
“It’s my little sister’s. She still believes in them.”
Millanie knew she was safe. No man who carries around his
sister’s toy could be a threat to her. “How old is your
sister?” she asked as he pulled onto the highway.
“Twenty-four. She’s a fortune teller at the bookstore in
Harmony. For your own safety I’d advise you to avoid
her.”
He continued but she was too far gone into sleep to think
how strange his words sounded.