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      Love Is Only A Letter Away

      So what if Joann Yoder’s Amish community deems her a spinster? She’s content to stay single. In the meantime, she’s working hard to finally buy her dream house. So it’s problematic when she’s fired from her job to make room for the nephew’s owner, Roman Weaver. His blue eyes aside, she simply can’t stand him! Good thing she has the secret letters she’s been exchanging with a mystery man to keep her going. But who is writing her letters? And could she possibly fall for him in real life, too?

      “My buggy is just around the corner. Would you care to share a ride?” Roman asked.

      There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. He had no reason to offer her a lift today. “It doesn’t look like rain.”

      “I thought since we were going the same way…” His voice trailed off. He cocked an eyebrow and waited.

      It was a long walk after a long day, but she’d rather crawl home on her hands and knees than spend another minute in his company. Thankfully, Joann managed not to blurt out her opinion. “I have errands to run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      Tomorrow would arrive all too quickly.

      “Suit yourself.” Without another word, he walked away and turned the corner.

      Had he actually sounded disappointed?

      PATRICIA DAVIDS

      After thirty-five years as a nurse, Pat has hung up her stethoscope to become a full-time writer. She enjoys spending her new free time visiting her grandchildren, doing some long-overdue yard work and traveling to research her story locations. She resides in Wichita, Kansas. Pat always enjoys hearing from her readers. You can visit her on the web at www.patriciadavids.com.

      Plain Admirer

      Patricia Davids

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      And God blessed them, and God said unto them,

      Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish

      of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.

      —Genesis 1:28

      This book is lovingly dedicated to my father, Clarence—a man who can look at any stretch of water and tell just where the fish are. Thanks for teaching me, my daughter and my grandchildren to bait our own hooks. Love you. Let’s go fishing soon.

      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

       Dear Reader

       Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      “This isn’t easy to say, but I have to let you go, Joann. I’m sure you understand.”

      “You’re firing me?” Joann Yoder faced her boss across the cluttered desk in his office. For once, she wasn’t tempted to straighten up for him. And she didn’t understand.

      “Ja. I’m sorry.”

      Otis Miller didn’t look the least bit sorry. Certainly not as sorry as she was to be losing a job she really needed. A job she loved. Why was this happening? Why now, when she was so close to realizing her dream?

      She’d only been at Miller Press for five months, but working as an assistant editor and office manager at the Amish-owned publishing house was everything she’d ever wanted. How could it end so quickly? If she knew what she had done wrong, she could fix it. “At least tell me why.”

      He sighed heavily, as if disappointed she hadn’t accepted her dismissal without question. “You knew when you came over from the bookstore that this might not be a permanent position.”

      Joann had moved from a part-time job at the bookstore next door to help at the printing shop after Otis’s elder brother suffered a heart attack. When he passed away a few weeks later, Joann had assumed she would be able to keep his job. She loved gathering articles for their monthly magazine and weekly newspaper, as well as making sure the office ran smoothly and customers received the best possible attention. She dropped her gaze to her hands clenched tightly in her lap and struggled to hang on to her dignity. Tears pricked the back of her eyelids, but she refused to cry. “You told me I was doing a good job.”

      “You have been. Better than I expected, but I’m giving Roman Weaver your position. I don’t need to tell you why.”

      “Nee, you don’t.” Like everyone in the Amish community of Hope Springs, Ohio, she was aware of the trouble that had visited the Weaver family. She hated that her compassion struggled so mightily with her desire to support herself. This job was proof that her intelligence mattered. She might be the “bookworm” her brothers had often called her, but here she had a chance to put her learning to good use. Now it was all being taken away.

      She

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