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Hideaway Home Excerpt Page 1 |
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**REMEMBER
THAT YOUR UP AND DOWN ARROW KEYS WILL SCROLL THE TEXT**
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Something
was wrong. The news hadn't reached California yet, but Bertie
Moennig knew something had happened. She couldn't pinpoint
when she'd decided she wasn't jumping to conclusions, but
her instincts had never failed her. She would have to wait
and see.
It frustrated her no end, because she didn't like to wait
for anything. Still…in the midst of this wretched
war, she'd grown accustomed to it.
Bertie paused in the noisy workroom of Hughes Aircraft to
untie the blue bandana from her head. Her hairnet had ripped
this morning, too late for her to get a replacement, and
there were strict regulations about keeping long hair restrained.
Now, half of her bun had fallen down over her neck and shoulders.
As if this plant wasn't already hot enough! Folks liked
to chatter on and on about the wonderful weather in Southern
California; those folks must've never worked in a busy,
noisy aircraft plant on a sunny day.
Another trickle of perspiration dripped along the side of
Bertie's face, and she rubbed her cheek against her shoulder
while fiddling with the bandana. She'd take a summer afternoon
on the farm in the Missouri Ozarks over working in the heat
of this plant any day.
Not that she disliked California. She loved it most of the
time—the weather, the ocean, the mountains—but
it could be a challenge for a country girl to get used to
the crush of people and traffic, even after living here
for eight months.
In Hideaway, Missouri, Bertie would've ridden her bicycle
the three miles to work, but here she saw more cars passing
by the apartment than she would see in a year back home.
The crazy pace of Southern California had shocked her upon
arrival and—
"Hey, hillbilly!"
She winced at the sound of the barrel voice approaching
from behind her. Looking around, then up at the department
supervisor, Franklin Parrish, she braced herself for yet
another earful of complaining.
"Yessir?"
"Get back to work. And get that hair up," he snapped, looming
too close, as he always did. He eyed the blond hair that
fell around her shoulders, then his gaze wandered.
Even though he mocked her Ozark accent and figures of speech,
he made no secret of the fact he liked her figure well enough.
She tied her hair back on top of her head. "A man in your
position should mind his manners, Mr. Parrish," she said
quietly, wishing Edith Frost, her roommate, was here. She'd
have an extra hairnet.
Franklin leaned closer to Bertie, his face flushed like
that of a child who'd been caught snooping in his mother's
purse. "And you'd better mind who you're talking to, hillbilly.
I can turn you out of here by signing the bottom line of
a little sheet of paper."
Bertie met his gaze, trying hard not to show her irritation.
After three hundred hours of instruction in St. Louis, she'd
been sent here as a trained machinist at the company's expense.
If he fired her for no good reason, he'd have to answer
for his actions.
"You want these parts to pass inspection, don't you?" she
asked. "We still have a war to win against the Japanese,
and I aim to help win it." She knew she should smile to
take the bite out of her words, but she held his gaze, straight-faced.
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From the book :
Hideaway Home
by Hannah Alexander
Love Inspired Historical
Publication Date: March 11, 2008
# ISBN-10: 0373827830
# ISBN-13: 978-0373827831
Copyright © March
2008
By: Hannah Alexander
® and
™ are trademarks of the publisher.
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin
Books S.A.
For more information surf to: http://www.steeplehill.com/
Used by permission. Unauthorized duplication prohibited
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Hideaway Home Excerpt Page 1 |
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