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Authors: Janice Hanna

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Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas

BOOK: Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas
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BY JANICE HANNA
S
umme
RSI
de
PRESS

Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas
© 2009 by Janice Hanna

ISBN 978-1-935416-16-6

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.

All scripture is taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

The town depicted in this book is a real place, but all characters are fictional. Any resemblances to actual people or events are purely coincidental.

Cover and interior design by Müllerhaus Publishing Group |
www.mullerhaus.net
.

Published by Summerside Press, Inc., 11024 Quebec Circle, Bloomington, Minnesota 55438 |
www.summersidepress.com
.

Fall in love with Summerside.

Printed in the USA.

“Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.”

SONG OF SOLOMON 2:10 KJV

Dedication

To my friend Kathy Nelson. We met on a bus in Jamaica
(of all places!) but our hearts are forever linked to your hometown
of Poetry, Texas. Thank you so much for your help!

And to the real Adeline Rose—prettier than a picture
and sweeter than a poem.

Acknowledgments

To my editor, Rachel Meisel. I can never thank you enough for taking an interest in this quirky, fun-loving story. May this be the first of many awesome projects together!

To my copyeditor, Connie Troyer. Thanks for the Texas spit-shine! The story sparkles because of you!

To my agent, Chip MacGregor. Thanks for always finding value in my work and for placing my stories with just the right houses. I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed working with Summerside!

To my critique partners, Kathleen Y’Barbo, Martha Rogers, and Linda Kozar. Ladies, I’m overwhelmed by your goodness. You are a constant source of encouragement, and I depend on your critiques and your wisdom. Bless you all.

O
N
H
IGHWAY
175 E
AST
,
ABOUT AN HOUR

S DRIVE FROM THE
Dallas–Ft. Worth Metroplex, you will stumble across a bend in the road that was once the town of Poetry, Texas. In this part of the country, you are far more likely to see cows and horses than skyscrapers and bumper-to-bumper traffic. Poetry was established in 1837 by Elisha Turner and initially went by the name of Turner’s Point. The name was later changed to Poetry. Some say the town got its moniker because it was as beautiful as a poem in the springtime, but no one knows that for sure. By 1904 the population of Poetry was about 234, and in its heyday it boasted a hotel, a hall, a grocery store, a post office, multiple churches, a cemetery, and several saloons. Today, one can find mostly green, rolling fields covered in tiny purple flowers known as vetch and dotted with oak, elm, and pecan trees. When I visited Poetry, I felt as if I’d stepped back in time—and that’s exactly how I hope you feel as you read this whimsical tale.

Janice Hanna

Chapter One

Poetry, Texas, 1904

“Belinda, I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Truly. But what in the world has possessed you? A marriage broker? Do you really think you’re...you’re...”

Belinda Bauer felt heat rising to her cheeks as she waited for her cousin to finish the question.

“...q–qualified?” Greta said at last, looking more than a bit dubious.

After drawing in a deep breath, Belinda dove into her rehearsed speech. “One does not have to be married in order to
arrange
marriages,” she explained. “These days, a good match is simply a matter of business. And science.”

“Science?” Greta did not look convinced. “What is so scientific about falling in love and getting married?”

Belinda gave a brusque nod and continued on undeterred. “In a town such as this, filled with railroad men and farmers, women are in short supply. Elsewhere, women bow their knees at night, clutch their hands together...”—here Belinda dramatically clasped her hands as if in prayer—“and plead with the Almighty for husbands.”

Greta paled. “Yes, but what does that have to do with
you
?”

“I will make it my job to reconcile the one with the other. With the Lord’s help, of course.” Belinda released her hands, triumphant. Surely Greta would see the good in this. And, in time, so would the others in the little town. After all, her goal to civilize the quaint town of Poetry, Texas, was a fine one. Once the women started arriving, the place would begin to blossom, possibly rivaling nearby Terrell. Or maybe—Belinda’s excitement grew as she thought about it—maybe even Dallas. Yes, once proper ladies started arriving, the area would become quite citified.

“You make it sound so...simple.” Her cousin paused to tie an apron around her broad waist, just as she did every morning before Poetic Notions, the town’s mercantile, opened. “But if finding a mate is really as easy as you say, then why, with men surrounding us on every side, do you and I remain unattached?”

Belinda swallowed hard and then chose her words with great care as she reached to straighten several jars on a nearby shelf. “I cannot speak for you, of course.” She turned to grasp her cousin’s hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. “To be quite honest, I do not understand why some handsome fellow hasn’t marched in here and swept you away to a life of marital bliss. You, of all people, would make the perfect wife and mother.”

“Thank you.” Greta let out a little laugh, and her cheeks turned pink.

Belinda released a sigh as she contemplated her own situation. “But I do believe, after much prayer on the matter, that I can answer the question about myself.” She stood straight and tall, taking full advantage of her height. “I have come to the conclusion that I was born for a greater purpose.”

“Oh?” Greta’s brow wrinkled, and the color seemed to fade from her cheeks.

“Yes. And, most likely, I will never marry. To do so would only interfere with my work, my calling.” Belinda let out an exaggerated sigh for effect.

“N–never marry?” Greta looked stunned. “How can you say such a thing?” A dreamy-eyed expression took over as she continued. “Why, I can hardly wait to be a bride. I’ve been dreaming of my wedding day since childhood. All girls do.” She ran her fingertips along a bolt of delicate lace, eyeing it with a sigh, then looked up at Belinda. “Surely you have longings to marry, to have a family.”

BOOK: Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas
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