A Week From Sunday
Contents
Copyright © 2007 by Dorothy Garlock
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Grand Central Publishing
Hachette Book Group USA
237 Park Avenue
New York, NY 10017
Visit our Web site at
www.HachetteBookGroupUSA.com
.
First eBook Edition: November 2007
ISBN: 0-446-50253-7
I. Title.
HEARTFELT PRAISE FOR
DOROTHY GARLOCK
AND HER CAPTIVATING NOVELS
“Dorothy Garlock writes about real people and real life.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine
“No one brings home small-town America in a more picturesque manner than bestselling author Dorothy Garlock.”
—Under the Covers Book Reviews
“A gifted writer.”
—Chicago Sun-Times
ON TALL PINE LAKE
“Moving . . . lyrical . . . Garlock’s mastery as a storyteller shines through in this engrossing tale full of touching romance and an entertaining romance.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine
“A delightful treasure . . . an edge-of-your-easy-chair thriller that romantic suspense junkies will not want to pass up.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Romantic suspense fans will enjoy every moment of Garlock’s novel.”
—Stuart News
(FL)
TRAIN FROM MARIETTA
“An enjoyable and relaxing curl-up read for a cozy Sunday afternoon! . . . Lots of climactic adventure in the wild . . . Sit back for a fun and sweet novel.”
—Historical Novels Review
“A sweet, satisfying romance.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Garlock’s characters come to life . . . Fans and newcomers alike will appreciate this fulfilling novel . . . Four stars.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine
“Terrific romantic suspense . . . The action-packed story line never slows down.”
—HarrietKlausner.wwwi.com
RIVER RISING
“Garlock is the queen of American tales, and
River Rising
is a perfect example of her superior writing talent.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Stirring . . . strong suspense . . . top-quality reading.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine
“Once again, Garlock captivates . . . Her three-dimensional characters make this Depression-era town a living place that readers will want to visit and remember for years to come.”
—Historical Novels Review
“Garlock does a terrific job . . . Fans will be delighted.”
—Booklist
SONG OF THE ROAD
“Outstanding . . . Garlock introduces a charming group of . . . characters that will leave you laughing out loud and clutching your hand to your chest as they all come together on Route 66.”
—ARomanceReview.com
“This romance is a treat, buoyed by strong characters and Garlock’s old-fashioned, no-nonsense storytelling.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Garlock’s writing perfectly captures these plainspoken people overcoming the challenges of their hardscrabble lives.”
—BookPage
“A wonderful romance . . . that readers will long remember.”
—Affaire de Coeur
HOPE’S HIGHWAY
“Delightful . . . This is a story that reminds us that dreams do come true.”
—Rendezvous
“An entertaining cavalcade of characters . . . Garlock, known for her heartwarming Americana, does not disappoint here . . . a heart-throbbing romance.”
—Publishers Weekly
“No one evokes the Depression like Garlock . . . A great, hopeful read.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine
“An engaging Depression-era Americana tale. Dorothy Garlock knows her road rules as well as anyone.”
—Affaire de Coeur
MOTHER ROAD
“Bestselling Garlock’s endearing characters and vividly depicted milieu will enchant her legions of readers. Garlock’s claim, ‘I write to entertain my readers,’ is fully validated with this suspenseful romance.”
—Booklist
“An engaging tale, spiced with Depression-era detail.”
—Publishers Weekly
“
Mother Road
is a colorful personalization of a highway and the people who work and play along its byways. Garlock captures the work ethic and spirit of Americans during the Depression years with understanding.
Mother Road
is a novel of tribute to the common men and women of that era.
—BookReporter.com
B
OOKS BY
D
OROTHY
G
ARLOCK
After the Parade
Almost Eden
Annie Lash
Dreamkeepers
Dream River
The Edge of Town
Forever Victoria
A Gentle Giving
Glorious Dawn
High on a Hill
Homeplace
Hope’s Highway
Larkspur
The Listening Sky
Lonesome River
Love and Cherish
Loveseekers
Midnight Blue
More than Memory
Mother Road
Nightrose
On Tall Pine Lake
A Place Called Rainwater
Restless Wind
Ribbon in the Sky
River Rising
River of Tomorrow
The Searching Hearts
Sins of Summer
Song of the Road
Sweetwater
Tenderness
This Loving Land
Wayward Wind
Wild Sweet Wilderness
Wind of Promise
Wishmakers
With Heart
With Hope
With Song
Yesteryear
Lindy, this one is for you!
RUNAWAY BRIDE
Crimson and gold, purple and blue
Through the stained-glass panes
The light shines through.
I stand in the hallway of what was my home
’Mid the gleaming possessions
That once were my own.
Gone, all gone, like my parents so dear
And in their stead
A man I loathe and fear.
Be ready, he says, to become my wife
A week from Sunday
You begin your new life.
I’ve just time to run, just time to hide
From this day forward
I’ll be a runaway bride.
—F.S.I.
Shreveport, Louisiana, 1935
“I
’
M TERRIBLY SORRY
, my dear. Your father will be missed.”
Adrianna Moore listened to the older woman’s condolences with a slight nod of appreciation before moving on. The small parlor was filled with smartly dressed men and women, all wearing black, who had come to pay their respects to the recently deceased. Some of the faces she recognized, mostly older gentlemen who had done business with her father over the years, but nearly all of the names escaped her. She knew she should say something, at the very least thank them for coming, but she couldn’t manage to get the image of her father’s coffin out of her head. It all seemed a horrible dream. Her sadness kept her mute amid the soft murmur of voices and the clink of coffee cups against their saucers.
The funeral itself had been a quiet affair. Thankfully, the Louisiana spring had cooperated; although drizzly rain had been falling for days, the morning had dawned with warm sunlight and only a light breeze rustling the treetops. High on the lone hill of the cemetery grounds, they’d laid her father to rest. Now, with that business concluded, she was required to play the role of hostess, a task that normally she’d be well equipped to handle. Today was anything but normal.
She moved from guest to guest, each stopping her for a few measured words of sympathy. She looked into forlorn faces, hands gently holding hers. Adrianna knew that they all meant well, but the things she was hearing only intensified her grief:
“Charles Moore was a lion of a man.”
“Regardless of the crippling effects of his polio, he never let it get the best of him.”
“I can’t begin to tell you how much I learned from him about the banking business. It’s a debt that I can never repay.”
“He’ll be watching down on you, Adrianna.” A matron wiped tears from her fat cheeks.
Once, when an older gentleman with enormous jowls was telling her of a hunting trip he’d taken with her father before he had become stricken with polio, she found herself desperately fighting back tears. It wasn’t the story that had upset her; she’d heard it a half dozen times before. What made her cry was the realization that her father had
become
a story, a legend in town. It had taken all the strength she could muster to get through the day, but somehow she’d managed to keep her composure through it all.
Finally, as the last rays of the spring sun disappeared over the horizon, all of the mourners had gone, leaving Adrianna alone in the large home she’d shared with her father. Built from the earnings of Moore Bank and Trust, the stately manor house had been constructed with the finest of materials. The interior was decorated richly but tastefully: a marble fireplace, an antique clock from Germany, as well as a crystal chandelier that hung over the dining room table.