A Timeless Romance Anthology: Love Letter Collection Read online

  Maggie disappeared inside her tent to wait until everyone had gathered their things and left. She’d have been happy to stay there all day, but the sun made the tent feel like a greenhouse— hot and stifling— and soon she was forced out into the cooler air. She grabbed a book out of her backpack and headed to a camp chair.

  “How did it go last night?” Barbara asked. Maggie looked at her questioningly. “I heard the girls talking. They said you two left camp together last night. I figured you might have some news.”

  Maggie shook her head. “No news. Did you hear any of their conversation last night after you went to bed? Lucas doesn’t want an aggressive woman.”

  Barbara laughed. “That’s not what I got out of that.”

  “So you heard?”

  “They weren’t exactly quiet.” Maggie smiled. “I heard a man who’s a romantic at heart say he wanted a woman to drop hints.”

  “I don’t have the first idea how to do that.” Maggie closed her book. “All day yesterday, I planned and practiced what I was going to say, and then I heard them talking and knew I couldn’t say any of it.”

  “So don’t say it with words. Say it with your actions. Give him his hints.”

  “If only it were that easy.”

  Barbara hesitated, then continued. “Actions speak louder than words.” She paused. “Seize the day.” Another pause. “There is nothing impossible to him who will try.” Maggie looked at Barbara. She was smiling. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

  Maggie smiled. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

  “Don’t stop me now, dear. I’m on a roll. A stitch in time saves nine. Look before you leap. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Come on, Maggie. Join me. This is fun. Birds of a feather flock together.”

  “Carpe diem,” Maggie said.

  “Be original, Maggie. That means the same thing as seize the day.”

  Maggie laughed. “Give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. Teach him to fish, he’ll eat for a lifetime.”

  “Nice one. There’s a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

  “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Maggie said.

  “Hey, don’t call me old. How about, youth is wasted on the young?”

  “No pain, no gain.”

  “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Maggie stopped. An idea was forming.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Barbara asked, then collapsed into laughter.

  Maggie couldn’t help but laugh with her. “No, I think I have an idea.”

  “Give me another one,” Barbara said.

  “Not yet. I need to think about this.”

  “Then go think about it and let me get back to my book,” Barbara said. She opened her book and started reading.

  Maggie went to her tent, got her notebook, and headed for a spot by the stream where she could be alone.

  “Dropping hints doesn’t have to be hard,” Barbara said, lowering her book and calling after Maggie. “Don’t overthink it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Friday night with Lucas on the trail meant pizza and music.

  Maggie returned to camp to find Lucas making preparations for dinner.

  “Good, you’re back,” Lucas said.

  “I told you not to worry about her,” Barbara said.

  “I just had some thinking to do,” said Maggie.

  “Do you need any help?” Barbara asked.

  “You’re on vacation,” Lucas said. “I do the cooking on pizza night.”

  By the time everyone had gathered back to camp, Lucas had twelve balls of pizza crust ready to go. “I haven’t figured out how to bake twelve pizzas at once on a camp stove, so we eat in shifts on pizza night.” Two at a time, they came to the table. Lucas rolled out their crusts and put them in the bottom of a cast-iron skillet. He covered them with pizza sauce, then each of them topped their own crust. He had bags of pepperoni, onions, mushrooms, cooked sausage, Canadian bacon, and pineapple. Once they’d topped their pizzas, he covered them with a vented lid and let them cook for about twelve minutes.

  Dinner took almost two hours from beginning to end, but the pizzas were delicious, and the campers loved them.

  Maggie was tense and quiet. She had a plan but she wasn’t sure when to put it into action. She’d prefer to do it when everyone had gone to bed, but after last night, she was pretty sure Jane and Montana would be waiting and watching. Maybe she should just forget about them. So what if they saw? She’d never see them again after tomorrow, right? Her face burned at the thought of doing something so private so publicly. Barbara smiled at her across camp, and something about her smile and optimism gave Maggie courage. She’d do it as soon as Lucas finished with dinner. It was time.

  “You bringing out your guitar?” Maggie asked him as they finished up their pizzas.

  “In a while.”

  “Go now. I’ll clean up while you play,” she said.

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Maggie cleaned and packed up most of the kitchen while Lucas circled the chairs around a couple of lanterns and pulled out his guitar. Jane and Montana quickly snagged the chairs on either side of him. Lucas sang a couple of songs and then asked for requests. Dennis asked if he knew any Elvis, and Lucas played “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.” Dennis joined in on the chorus, singing to Barbara. Their married children smiled, but the rest of the group groaned and rolled their eyes in a good-humored way.

  When Maggie finished cleaning, she went to her tent and retrieved the stack of folded notes she’d prepared that afternoon. Already she was having second thoughts. Maybe this was a mistake. Did she really want to embarrass herself in front of all these people? She pulled up a chair next to Barbara and listened to Lucas sing an old Johnny Cash song. His voice was mellow and pleasant. His accent almost disappeared when he sang, but every once in a while, a word came through with a sound that was pure Lucas.

  “Maggie, what do you want me to play?” Lucas asked, and she realized he was watching her. Could this be her sign?

  “‘Annie’s Song,’” Maggie said. Lucas and Dan had teased her as teenagers because she was the only girl her age who listened to John Denver. She’d begged Lucas to learn “Annie’s Song” when he’d taken guitar lessons, and she’d requested it so many times that several years ago, he’d sworn it off entirely, saying he’d never play it again. If he teased her and said no, she would leave the papers in her pocket and abandon her plan. If he relented and played the song, she would follow through. Bargaining with herself like this was silly, but she didn’t care.

  Lucas looked at her, and she held his eyes. Please play the song. Lucas’s mouth turned up into a little smile. “We’ll call this ‘Maggie’s Song’ instead of ‘Annie’s Song.’ I’m pretty sure she’s listened to it more than anyone named Annie.”

  Maggie did her best to keep her expression neutral, but she could feel eyes on her from all around the circle of hikers. Lucas started playing the introduction on his guitar, and Maggie kept her eyes on him. Barbara reached over and patted her hand, and she realized she was white-knuckling the arm of the chair. She took a breath and tried to relax as Lucas started singing about filling up senses like a storm in the desert. She’d always loved this song, and now it was reaching her in a place she’d never thought possible. Her heart was pounding so hard, she could feel it in her clenched hands and hear it in her ears. Lucas glanced at his hands a few times, but most of the song, he watched Maggie.

  Strangely, the words about love and laughter and dying in each other’s arms calmed Maggie’s nerves and gave her courage. As Lucas played the last chord, Maggie stood and walked across the circle to him. She reached in her pocket, pulled out the papers, and dropped them. Most landed in his lap, but one sat perched on top of the guitar, and a couple had fallen onto the ground.

  Before Lucas could open any of the notes, Maggie sat back down in her chair, doing her b
est to look calm, even though breathing was difficult and her hands were shaking.

  Maggie cringed when Montana picked up the two that had fallen on the ground, but when she handed them to Lucas without opening them, she felt a rush of gratitude.

  Lucas picked up one of the notes and unfolded it. He looked at Maggie, a question in his eyes. He opened the second. Jane craned her neck to see what they said. When Lucas unfolded the third paper, a look of understanding crossed his face, and he smiled. No one spoke as he opened each of the papers, but eyes from around the circle darted back and forth between Lucas and Maggie. She knew she was blushing, but it was too late to do anything. She’d followed through with her plan, and now all she could do was wait to see what Lucas would do.

  When the last paper had been unfolded, he leaned the guitar against the side of his chair and put the papers in his jacket pocket. “If you’ll excuse us, Maggie and I are going to take a little walk.” He crossed the circle and pulled Maggie from her chair. Her legs were wobbly, and she was afraid they wouldn’t carry her. Lucas held her hand as they walked out of the circle. “We’ll be okay. You don’t have to come check on us,” he said and winked at Jane and Montana.

  They hadn’t even made it to the trailhead when Jane spoke up. “Hint. The notes all said ‘hint.’ What does that even mean?”

  “She’s just dropping a few hints,” Barbara said, and Maggie could hear the excitement in her voice.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The last sliver of sun fell below the walls of the canyon silhouetting the jagged rocks against a gold backdrop. With every step, Maggie’s heart slowed to a pace that didn’t threaten a heart attack. In fact, every step brought a feeling of peace and calm. Lucas was still holding her hand. That had to be a good sign. She glanced at his face. He looked happy.

  They turned onto another trail, and Maggie knew where they were going— Dan’s Ledge. Finally Maggie spoke. “We’re going to be stuck out here in the dark.”

  “I’ve got a flashlight.”

  When they reached the ledge, Lucas sat and pulled Maggie down beside him. Then his arm went around her waist, and held her close against his side. “Oh Maggie, you’re too much.” He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek against her hair.

  What was he saying? Suddenly she felt nervous again. Was he trying to let her down gently?

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I can take a hint.” He turned her face toward him, and his lips brushed hers. “It means I’m glad you’re braver than I’ve been.” He kissed her again. “I wasn’t...” But Maggie didn’t want to talk. At least not yet. She’d been waiting too long for this kiss to let words cut it short. She put her hand behind his neck and pulled him toward her, meeting his lips with her own.

  She pulled away. “I was so afraid you were going to hate me and we wouldn’t even be friends anymore.”

  “That’s exactly why I haven’t had the guts to see if there’s more here than just friends. You’ve been my best friend for so long, I was afraid if I said too much, you’d dodge me.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “You heard us talking last night?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Good. I was trying to talk loud enough for you to hear, although I thought maybe you’d grab my arm to feel my muscles or wink at me. I didn’t know you’d actually drop hints.”

  “Too bad we don’t have a campfire to put those in,” Maggie said.

  “Are you kidding? I’m hanging onto these forever. They may be the closest thing to a love letter I ever get.”

  “You mean my first day ever writing a love letter, I wrote a dozen of them?”

  “You were a busy girl.”

  They kissed again and again as the stars replaced the setting sun.

  Everyone was asleep when they returned to camp. Lucas held her face in his hands as he kissed her goodnight at the door of her tent before she zipped herself inside. On her sleeping bag was a note.

  Did your bravery pay off? I’m so proud of you. –Barbara

  The next morning, Maggie heard the sound of the zipper as someone opened the flap of her tent a few inches, dropped in a folded paper, and closed it again. She sat up and reached for the paper.

  Dear Margaret,

  I called you Margaret so you’ll know I’m serious.

  In my attempt to catch up to the dozen love letters you gave me, you can count this as my number one. I spent most of the night thinking about you. Staying in my tent was quite a challenge.

  I’ll do my best not to kiss you today on the trail. It will be difficult, but we should probably try to be professional. Just know that I’ll be wishing I could.

  I’m thinking we should go on a real date, so how about I pick you up at seven tonight? We’ll go out for a nice dinner neither of us has to cook.

  I love you, Maggie. I’ve loved you as a friend for ten years. I have a feeling this kind of love is going to be even more fun.

  Happy trails!

  Yours,

  Lucas

  Maggie tucked her first love letter into her notebook and packed it in her backpack. She tried to wrestle her smile into a less obvious expression before she unzipped the door. After a minute, she gave up and greeted the morning with the contented smile of a woman who’d just read a love letter she’d been waiting for all her life.

  Click on the covers to go to the Amazon purchase site:

  KAREY WHITE grew up in Utah, Idaho, Oregon and Missouri. She attended Ricks College and Brigham Young University. Her first novel, Gifted, was a Whitney Award Finalist.

  She loves to travel, read, cook, and spend time with family and friends. She and her husband are the parents of four talented and wonderful children.

  Find out more about Karey at www.kareywhite.com.

  Chapter One

  Wren Lario sat in her car outside her grandfather’s house. Her mom would be inside, going over paperwork, making phone calls. Wren gazed at the small white house, the trimmed lawn and row of lilac bushes dormant in February. Simple. Just lawn and lilacs. But it had been lawn and lilacs for decades, and Wren couldn’t help wondering what it would look like a year from now. Ten years from now.

  On Saturday, William Tivegna, Gramps, Wren’s seventy-four year-old grandfather, had shocked them all by lying down for a nap. The next shock had hit when he didn’t wake up.

  Wren looked at the appointment card in her hand. Her doctor had said they would have her test results back in a few days. But she’d asked them to hold onto the results until after the funeral. They would be too much to deal with, and her mom needed her now. As she’d left the office, the doctor had handed her this card with his cell number scrawled across it. “Wren, we don’t know anything for certain until the test results are in. Call if you change your mind. Knowledge is a powerful thing.”

  Wren knew that. But endometrial cancer had taken Grandma Tivegna in her late thirties, soon after Wren was born. And she just couldn’t deal with the possibilities. Not this week.

  Wren shrugged against the knot in her chest. Gramps had raised her, taking care of her so her single mom could work her way up to managing the Walgreens. Wren was on her own now, in an apartment in their little town of Palisade, Colorado, with a good job. Gramps had been the only dad she’d ever known. She could’ve used one of his hugs right now.

  She managed to call out as she entered the house, struck by the lingering scent of Gramps’ aftershave. “Mom?”

  “Come in here. I want you to look at something.”

  Wren found her mom at the kitchen table, sorting through piles of bills, notes, and mail. Sue Lario appeared older than she had three days ago. How much sleep had she gotten?

  She looked up over her reading glasses. “Hey, sweetie.” She handed her a paper. “Do you know anything about this?”

  “What is it?”

  “Read it.”

  Wren sat on a kitchen chair and focused on the slanted handwriting.

  Billy,

  Everything is all set. It to
ok some finagling with the boy, but we’re good to go. I hope you’ve gotten up the nerve to tell that daughter of yours, because there’s no turning back. This is your baby, and I must say, one of your better ideas. It feels like Christmas Eve.

  I’ll pick you up at the airport on Wednesday. Tell Sue. More as not, she’ll be excited for us. Can’t wait to see you.

  Yours,

  Dot

  Wren frowned. “Who’s Dot?”

  “I was hoping you’d know.”

  Wren turned the paper over. “How old is this?”

  “It came in the mail today. With these.” She held out an envelope.

  Wren peered at the contents and pulled out more paper. “Boarding passes. Seattle?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “These are for Wednesday.”

  “As the letter says.”

  “But it’s Monday. Does this person know that Gramps—” She stopped, unsure how to say aloud what she’d hardly begun to understand.

  Her mom finished for her. “That he’s passed away? I doubt it. I’ve barely finished letting extended family know.”

  The letter had come from Marysville, Washington, but there was no name above the return address.

  “I wish Dad had used his cell phone more often.” Mom shook her head. “There’s no Dot on his contact list.”

  Gramps had never cared for cell phones. “There’s a reason I leave my phone at home,” he’d always said.