Also by Kathy Bosman

Chapter One

It was Valentine’s Day and, by ten o’clock, Mia was run off her feet, ringing up sales, showing lost customers where to find things, and restocking empty spots on the racks of her friend, Janet’s, quaint card and gift shop. She took in a deep breath, as the shop was momentarily still, ran to a shelf to straighten some cards that were left in disarray, and stood back to check that the shop looked as gorgeous as it should. Janet deserved this break. She hadn’t had a date with her husband since her kids were born. Mia was going to get her as many sales as she could today. Even though she’d had a steady stream of customers, sales were small and way below planned. Things had to pick up fast to make the sales target Janet had hoped for.

A man walked into the shop and strolled toward the cards. He had to bend down under the Valentine’s balloons and streamers because he was so tall, and his spiked-up hair brushed a balloon with a fizz of static. Mia grinned until she saw his face. Maybe this man would break the pledge she’d made to herself that she was flying out to London the next day for an extended vacation unless she found love. Her mouth went dry. Could such a handsome man actually exist? Especially in Gooding? Not that the guys in Gooding were bad, but she knew them all and none of them were for her. She’d dated enough to find that out.

The man sneezed loudly in a deep voice, and Mia suppressed a giggle.

She quickly scanned through an order she’d prepared for a customer two shops down. At least that would help with Janet’s sales a bit.

“Excuse me.”

Mia looked up into navy blue eyes framed by almost-black eyebrows and a puzzled frown. “Yes.” The handsome customer. She swallowed.

“I need help finding a card.”

“What type of card are you looking for?”

“A Valentine’s Day card.”

“Well, here are all the Valentine’s Day cards.” She walked toward the rack where Janet had displayed her Valentine’s Day cards and waved her arm toward them. Big, shiny, red and white balloons hung above the rack. How could anyone miss it?

“I know that.” He sighed.

Mia’s face froze, and her mind worked furiously to find an answer to his statement. “I’m sorry. I’m not too sure what you need assistance with.” This guy must be from out of town. He had a sense of mystery about him, like he belonged to another world. Maybe he was from Boise or another state.

“I don’t know what to give my girlfriend. There are so many good cards here – how do you choose?”

The thing she loved about Janet’s shop, Dream Giving, were the cards. The words were poetic and meaningful and decorated with beautiful artwork. They were sure to touch any heart. But she hadn’t read through them all for a long time – at least eight months – from when her relationship with Simon had hit an iceberg, and she didn’t need to find any more for herself. And she hadn’t filled in for Janet in over two years. It was a favor she’d done for her friend many times while studying her college level courses by correspondence.

“Just choose the words that match what you feel in your heart,” she said, wondering what was in his heart toward another woman.

“I don’t know how to do that.”

Glancing at him and then at the rack, she pursed her lips. Her insides were a little shivery from the way he stared at her, like he was looking right through her.

“I don’t know how to help you. I’m sorry.”

“Which of these cards would you give your boyfriend, or your husband, I don’t know which?”

This guy was getting too personal now.

She picked up a random card and read it. “How about this one?”

“It’s too floral. She’s a bold, life-of-the-party lady. Not a country-bumpkin, stay-at-home type.”

“Well, this one has bright colors and clean lines.” She took out a card and handed it to him. His hand brushed hers for a moment, and she nearly dropped the card. Super-charge. This guy gave off such energy. Why hadn’t she found him before the bold, classy woman did? Silly thought really, because he had no clue how to be romantic. But he was certainly appealing to her senses.

He opened the card and the frown furrowed deeper on his forehead. “That’s all it says: ’To the one in my life – Happy Valentine’s Day.’”

How could Janet have bought something so meaningless? She usually chose the best.

“Ooh, not romantic at all. You could always put in your own words though. That would touch any woman’s heart.” She’d hated it that Simon had never ever written his own words in. “In fact, it’s better than choosing the best card in the world.”

“Really?”

“Yes. A woman wants to see the words from her man’s heart – not some words written by a poet or writer at a card company to make money. Oh, they can be good, but straight from the heart is better by far.”

“Even if he can’t write a single sentence well?” He raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth simultaneously, giving him an exotic look. Mia didn’t need to go to London for true adventure – he was right here in Idaho.

She shook her head to dispel the crazy thoughts.

“No. I knew it. I’m not going to make her happy this Valentine’s Day. I can’t even spell.”

“I mean that it doesn’t matter how it’s written, as long as it comes from the heart.”

“Do you sell pens?”

She giggled. “We have Valentine’s Day pens here.”

“I just need a simple pen to write the words.”

“You can borrow mine.” She walked toward the front counter and handed him a pen with a sweaty hand.

“May I buy this card?”

Mia was pleased to get rid of the awful card, but didn’t say so. She rang it up, and then he opened it out of its cellophane packaging and began to write. She sat back on the barstool-type chair behind the counter so as to not see his personal words on the card. But she continued to watch him. His hair flopped as he wrote. He would write a word, place the back of the pen in his mouth and stare at the wall behind her, then write a bit again. Then he would write a bit again. Every cell in her body was longing to know what he had written. How often had she longed to be part of a true romance? Her relationships had always been dysfunctional and so had her parents’ marriage. Simon had been a friend for years and then they had become physical overnight. There had been no romance in between. It had been exciting at the time – now she knew how stupid she’d been.

“Take a look at what I’ve written,” he said after what felt like hours.

“No, I couldn’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. I’m asking you to.”

“It’s not right.”

“I’ll never see you again, so what difference does it make?”

Hurt surrounded her heart. Never see him again? How awful.

“Oh, all right then.”

He laughed out loud and she scanned the shop for other customers. It was supposed to be the busiest day of the year, but where was everyone? The little shop seemed to close her in with this man, making her feel like they were bouncing together in a pot of soup, warm and comforting and delicious. She breathed in his slightly sweaty, clean-linen scent as she bent over the card to read.

Dear Beautiful Girl,

The minute I saw you, I knew that you were the one for me. It sounds crazy, yeah, but it’s true. I spotted you from a distance, and I had to stop in my tracks and stare at you for a moment because I thought maybe you were a figment of my imagination.

For someone who apparently doesn’t know how to spell, he sure knows how to write. It was pure relief that she wore long sleeves today so he couldn’t spot the goosebumps running up and down her arms like tiny elves, taunting her. They were headed for her neck.

Maybe it’s those mesmerizing eyes, or it could be the soft lilt of your voice, or the gentle hesitancy you take before you speak. But I think it’s just that “knowing” somewhere – I don’t know where it came from – that you’re the one for me, forever.

Luke

Her whole neck was awash with goosebumps, and she blinked away some tears that had slipped out the corners of her ears.

“So, do you think that will touch her?” he asked, his voice deep and almost intimate.

Breaking out of her daze, she pulled away and fell back down on the chair with a bump. “Um… it’s beautiful. Um… she’ll love it.” And I hate her!

“You sure?” He peered at her strangely, and she loosened the polar neck of her shirt which seemed to be constricting her breathing.

“I’m sure. You said that very well. You should work for a card company. Oh, what am I saying? Those words were too personal to put on a generic card. They were so utterly romantic. She’ll have the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

“I’m just going to browse for a gift quickly,” he said.

Oh bother! He was staying longer. She didn’t think she was going to keep off an all-consuming blush from her face any longer. She wiped her brow and bent her head down to study the order that she had been busy with before he spoke to her. How embarrassing to be fawning over one of Janet’s customers, especially when he was clearly taken. Taken with a beautiful woman with gorgeous eyes and voice.

Where were the other customers? It was almost as if he’d chased them away. She peeped up to find him picking up ornaments, turning them around, and placing them back. Watching him for ages, she drank in the way his body moved in his unique way.

He must have gone through the whole shop before he came to her with one tiny item – her favorite item in Janet’s shop that she’d been meaning to buy for months but always thought it would be another dust collector. Then when she’d decided she was leaving for London, she’d packed up all her ornaments and donated them to a charity shop so there was no use buying this one.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” She picked up the miniature snow globe with the Rocky Mountains as a backdrop and a minute grizzly bear catching a fish out of a river in the front of the picture. Shaking it made swirls of light; soft, white flakes fill the picture.

“Fascinating. Looks like it’s been handcrafted.”

“Oh, it has. Look underneath.” She took it from him and showed him the “Made by Hand” label on the base.

“What is the time?” His whole face froze in horror.

She bent her head round to look at the clock on the wall behind her. “Um… I think that clock has stopped.” She pulled her sleeve away to look at her wristwatch. “Mr… Where did you go? You left your stuff!”

Mia searched the whole shop, which took her about twenty seconds. She even peeped in the stock room and the small bathroom, but nothing. She ran outside the shop and craned her head to look down the street both sides, but nothing.

He’d left behind the card that he’d written in and the snow globe, which he hadn’t actually paid for yet. Oh, well, he was sure to be back. After packing the snow globe in a box with some tissue paper, she decided to wrap it for him free of charge. He’d been such an interesting person and was probably regretful that he’d left for a meeting or something in such a hurry and left his precious cargo behind.

Mia chose a Valentine wrap with red and white roses and tied a silver bow around it. She placed the card in an envelope, and quickly checking that no one was watching her from outside the shop, she took a whiff of the card to see if any of his scent had lingered behind in his writing. Nothing, of course. What was she thinking, being so nostalgic all of a sudden? She placed the card in the envelope and folded it closed – she didn’t want to seal it in case he wanted to put a gift in there – maybe some delicate rose-shaped earrings or a tear-drop diamond pendant. Of course, a bold, classy lady wouldn’t go for that, only a silly romantic like her. After putting the card and present under the counter, she walked to the rack and began to neaten up the cards. Customers came in and out for the next few hours, some only looking around but not buying and others probably spending months of savings on extravagant cards, gifts, and wrappings. But there just were too few. What would Janet do if they had to close shop? She’d built up the shop after years of collecting goodies and gifts all over the world. It was a bright spot in Gooding.

Mia kept on checking the clock on the wall that was working since she replaced the battery, but the time was ticking on. The shop closed at eight and it was close to six. If he was going on a date with this “beautiful girl,” she wasn’t going to get the card. If only he’d put a surname on the card so she could find his number and phone him.

She watched the last few late shoppers rush in and buy their Valentine’s gifts, and as the few shops in the street became bathed in night and sprinkled with lights everywhere, a sadness swept over her. Would it change the course of their lives forever – him not giving this woman that card? Her jealousy toward the girlfriend had disappeared. Now, she so wanted him to have happiness in his life – to have this beautiful woman of his dreams, even if it wasn’t her. Really, it didn’t need to be her. She was going to London tomorrow. She’d found someone she wanted to love, but love hadn’t found her here.

Maybe she was just tired. It was all the busyness of the day and the excitement of traveling. She’d never gone further than a few hundred miles out of town on a camping trip with her parents or to Twin Falls or Boise. No wonder she was out of sorts. Once she’d settled down in London after a few weeks, she would be soaring from tree to tree.