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      Wanted: A Husband

      Sophie Tanner gave up hoping for Nathan O’Malley’s approval—and love—long ago. Getting married is the only way to protect her younger brother and keep her family’s Smoky Mountain farm. As much as she’d like Nathan to be the groom, he can’t seem to get past their friendship…or their differences.

      Since they were children, Nathan has known Sophie was too impulsive, too headstrong. She’s forever rushing into situations without thinking them through, like this scheme to snare a husband in under a month. Nathan always thought he’d fall in love with someone like himself—sensible, cautious, levelheaded. Sophie is his polar opposite. So why can’t he picture anyone else at his side?

      Smoky Mountain Matches: Dreams of home and family come true in the Smoky Mountains

      “What do you think of Sophie’s new look, Nathan?”

      Cheeks burning, Sophie couldn’t bring herself to look at him, watching instead his large hands near the chessboard, how they clenched and the knuckles went white.

      “I would say she hasn’t changed all that much.”

      “How can you say that?” said Nathan’s mother, who’d just entered the room and was setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table.

      Sophie inwardly cringed. Of course. She’d known, hadn’t she, that a new dress wouldn’t alter the way Nathan viewed her.

      “She hasn’t changed,” Nathan drawled softly in the gathering silence, “because she’s always been beautiful, inside and out.”

      Startled, Sophie’s gaze shot to his face. Surely she hadn’t heard right? And yet there, in the softening of his mouth, the flicker of a smile, she witnessed appreciation and approval. A giddy sort of joy infused her insides, warming her from the inside out.

      Indicating the board, where he had no legal moves left, he said, “Stalemate.”

      She stared. Very rarely did they call a draw. The game’s outcome was clear, however. Neither one of them was a winner.

      KAREN KIRST

      was born and raised in East Tennessee near the Great Smoky Mountains. A lifelong lover of books, it wasn’t until after college that she had the grand idea to write one herself. Now she divides her time between being a wife, homeschooling mom and romance writer. Her favorite pastimes are reading, visiting tearooms and watching romantic comedies.

      The Husband Hunt

      Karen Kirst

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

      —Isaiah 55:8–9

      For a beloved aunt, Linda McLemore, whose support and encouragement mean the world to me. Thanks for all the laughs and the prayers. I love you.

      This dream would not be possible without my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

      John 15:5: I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.

      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

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       Chapter Twenty-Five

       Chapter Twenty-Six

       Epilogue

       Dear Reader

       Discussion Questions

       Excerpt

      Chapter One

      Gatlinburg, Tennessee

      August 1881

      She was trapped. Stuck high above the ground in her place of refuge—a sugar maple with a trunk too wide to get her arms around and century-deep roots—cornered by a skunk, of all things. The varmint had sauntered up and planted itself at the tree’s base and showed no intentions of leaving.

      Gripping the branch above her head, Sophie leaned forward and commenced trying to reason with him. “Yoo-hoo! How about you move along? I’m sure there are tastier earthworms along the stream bank. You might even catch yourself a frog.”

      His frantic digging continued. How long was she going to have to wait?

      “You’re keeping me from my chores, you know.” She blew a stray hair out of her eyes. “Will and Granddad will be wanting their supper soon.” Beans, fried potatoes and corn bread again. Her specialty.

      The snap of a twig brought her

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