Missionary Daddy Read Online Free

up. Someone still didn’t want Kelly’s husband, Ross, to investigate the old falsified adoption records and had recently sent a threatening letter to the agency.
    As a newcomer, Eric often had trouble keeping up with events that had happened before he’d arrived. But he’d been blessed with a great new church and new friends, and was knee-deep in fund-raising efforts for his African projects. Life was good. Different but good.
    Anne Williams, the agency’s bookkeeper, appeared from the back of the long, narrow building. Eric liked the shy gentle woman, and he was glad she had married an old missionary acquaintance of his, Caleb Williams. In fact, Caleb, now a youth pastor, was the man who had recommended Eric for his current position.
    A newspaper tucked beneath her arm, Anne said, “Andrew Noble called while you were conferencing with that new family.”
    Eric reached for the telephone. “Should I call him back?”
    Anne shook her head. “He only wanted to thank you again for chairing the youth-group committee for the upcoming fund-raiser.”
    Every year the Noble Foundation held a picnic to raise funds for charitable groups. Eric was thrilled because this year the fund-raiser was earmarked for orphanages in Africa.
    “Considering it’s a project close to my heart, I’m glad to do it. And the kids at the youth center are full of ideas. A good bunch, too.” He already knew most of them from his Sunday school class at the Chestnut Grove Community Church. Grabbing a pen, he scribbled a note to get snacks for tonight’s meeting. Teens worked better when food was part of the deal. “Did Andrew mention if he or Rachel had found a cochair?”
    The new international adoption program was taking a lot of his time. Add his already busy schedule, church and an occasional night out, and Eric wasn’t sure he could swing the full responsibility of organizing the youth’s portion of the fund-raiser. He hoped that Andrew and his cousin Rachel would soon pick a cochair for the event.
    “Andrew says Rachel has someone terrific in mind and is awaiting a call back.” Even though the pregnant Rachel was on bed rest, she remained involved with foundation work by telephone and computer.
    “Did he say who?” Not that it mattered. Eric would work with anyone who desired to help his kids.
    “You’re going to like this.” Anne placed the newspaper on the desk in front of him and tapped a picture. “If Rachel can convince her, this is your cochair.”
    Eric looked down at the newspaper photo. All the air whooshed out of his lungs.
    Samantha Harcourt. The woman he couldn’t forget even if he wanted to. The woman who disturbed his dreams and whose memory sent waves of humiliation flowing over him. He’d nearly made a fool of himself in Africa. Had actually prayed for God to send her back after that first amazing day. Had spent many late nights standing outside the orphanage, listening to the call of the jackal, and wishing he could forget her.
    But how could he?
    Now that he was back in the States, he found her picture was literally everywhere. Billboards, magazines. Sam Harcourt, ad model for Style Fashions, the hottest trend in America.
    As a man who’d lived most of his adult life in Third World countries, he’d had no idea the sweet missions’ worker was a top fashion model.
    Once he’d discovered her identity, he’d felt like a total idiot. He’d also understood why she’d never returned to the orphanage. She wasn’t a missions’ worker at all. Like celebrities everywhere, she loved publicity and what better press than to say she’d worked among the poor, starving orphans of Africa?
    Wasn’t this photo proof enough? He remembered when she’d asked one of the kids to take it. She had both arms wrapped full of children, Matunde and Amani in her lap. The unfinished orphanage served as background.
    A souvenir, she’d claimed. Yeah, right. Publicity, plain and simple.
    He hissed in a slow, anxious breath.
    Sam