Shepherds Abiding Read Online Free

positive thinking you’ve displayed in making Happy Endings a more profitable enterprise.
    Mitford has great charm, but, as you’re aware, it has distinct limitations, as well. Of the entire population, scarcely a tenthenjoys a thumping good read or has any inclination to open the covers of a book. We’ve had to go further and further afield to pay the rent and stock our shelves, and no coffee bar or gallery of so-called amusing greeting cards could ever turn this distressing circumstance around.
    Your clever marketing of HE to surrounding communities, your committed endeavors with the literacy council, and your development of a rare-books business on the Internet, have certainly paid off. But only to the extent that the rent, the utilities, and your salary are met each month, with barely enough left to restock the shelves.
    In other words, though you work very hard and have made a far better go of it than I did while living in Mitford, the profit margin remains slim and tenuous. I don’t enjoy telling you this, but it’s best to make a clean breast of things.
    The HE lease is up at the end of December, and I’ve decided I simply don’t wish to carry on in Mitford. Instead, I’m inviting you to join me at the store in Florida and help grow the business here.
    Really, my dear, I see no reason at all for you to remain in Mitford. I assure you that your dull and solitary life there will be replaced by a very exciting life here. And—Peter and I have a charming guesthouse where you can live in great comfort until you get your wings!
    I won’t ring you for a week, as P and I shall be in the Keys, and thus you shall have every opportunity to think this through and give me the answer I hope—and indeed expect —to hear!
     
    Yours fondly,
Helen
     
    P.S. We will, of course, pay all moving expenses, which should be minimal, given your minuscule accommodations over the Tea Shop.
    P.P.S. I’ll contact Edith Mallory’s attorneys tomorrow, with a sixty-day notice. As you’re aware, the dreadful fire at Clear Day handicapped her severely, and though she’s proved to be a grasping and unlovely landlord, I admit to feeling a certain pity for the poor creature.
    Don’t let the word out until Christmas is behind us—they’d all be wanting something for nothing, and I have no intention of putting on a going-out-of-business sale; remaining inventory will be moved here.
     
    The first time Hope read this letter, her heart had raced with excitement. Now she felt it racing for quite another reason.
    It was from fear of what lay ahead.

    He had every reason in the world not to do it.
    First, he’d never attempted anything like this before. Not even remotely like this.
    Second, it was the sort of project Cynthia might take on and accomplish with great success, but as for himself, he had no such talent or skill—indeed, except for a fair amount of aptitude for gardening and cooking, he was all thumbs.
    Third, there would hardly be enough hours left in the year to get the job done, though when he made an inquiry by phone, Andrew offered to help him every step of the way, vowing to call upon his professional resources for advice.
    Fourth, the thing was too large, too out of proportion for the corner of the study: some figures were easily fifteen or sixteen inches tall.
    Last, but definitely not least, he had enough to do. He was struggling with yet another piece of business for which he probably had no talent or skill—he was writing a book of essays. Truth be told, he’d hardly enjoyed a moment of writing the blasted things; he’d liketo chuck the whole lot in the trash and be done with it. But, no, he’d invested untold hours. . . .
    He put on his jacket and opened the door of the yellow house, inhaling the crisp morning air.
    And another thing . . . there were the pulpits he’d agreed to supply before the year was out—five, total, including the Christmas Eve service at Lord’s Chapel, due to Father Talbot’s trip