Praise for Janine Rosche and
This Wandering Heart
“This Wandering Heart is a heartwarming novel that embraces all the wondrous elements of romance: love to last a lifetime, family values, loyalty, forgiveness, and second chances. Janine Rosche has crafted an amazing book that will remain in your memory long after you turn the last page.”
—Catherine Anderson, New York Times bestselling author of Huckleberry Lake
“As the story unfolds across the pages of This Wandering Heart, the characters pulled me deeply into a romance I wanted to happen even as the obstacles seemed insurmountable. This book is perfect for readers who love romances filled with heart and characters you can’t quit rooting for. And traveling vicariously through the heroine? An added bonus in an already heartwarming book.”
—Cara Putman, award-winning, bestselling author of Delayed Justice and Shadowed by Grace
“In this debut novel, high school sweethearts are reunited in a tender second-chance story that takes the reader on a journey of self-discovery. Up-and-coming author Janine Rosche deftly uses a dash of humor to balance out weightier issues in This Wandering Heart. Romance readers are sure to fall in love with this adventurous heroine and swoon-worthy hero!”
—Denise Hunter, bestselling author of the Bluebell Inn series
“Warm and charming, with a uniquely vulnerable and affecting hero, This Wandering Heart moves with insight and grace. Janine Rosche’s writing hits all the right notes about family, fidelity, and faith.”
—Jo Goodman, USA Today bestselling author of A Touch of Forever
“Janine Rosche’s debut novel sparkles with romance, reconciliation, and deep emotions. I thoroughly enjoyed traveling to beautiful settings, exploring the ties that bind us to our family, and experiencing the hero and heroine’s second chance at love. . . . A delightful beginning for a talented author!”
—Becky Wade, Christy Award–winning author of Sweet on You
“A tender look at how the wounds of the past impact the present. It delves into spiritual aspects of forgiveness, second chances, and refocusing our priorities on a God-centered view instead of a fear-centered view. The dialogue is fun, the growth is sweet, and the hero . . . well, he’s just absolutely wonderful. This story is reminiscent of Becky Wade’s My Stubborn Heart, with a heroine who needs a lot of help, hope, and love to get her sights turned in the right direction. What a fun story.”
—Pepper Basham, author of the Mitchell’s Crossroads series and My Heart Belongs in the Blue Ridge
“With her emotionally rewarding debut, Janine Rosche sets herself apart as one to watch. Lush imagery, relatable characters, and a spot-on balance of humor and heartache come together to create a romance that speaks to the wanderer in us all—and the part of us that wants nothing more than a place to call home. This Wandering Heart is a must-read for anyone who believes love is the greatest adventure of all. Highly recommended!”
—Bethany Turner, award-winning author of Wooing Cadie McCaffrey and Hadley Beckett’s Next Dish
“This Wandering Heart is a charming romance; a classic tale of love lost and found, told with warmth, humor, and energy. Readers will cheer for these engaging characters, and leave this book believing in happy endings and eager for more from this talented new author.”
—Katherine Spencer, New York Times bestselling author of Thomas Kinkade’s Cape Light: When Christmas Comes
“Janine Rosche is a fresh new voice in the world of contemporary romance and her debut is full of heart and soul! With an intriguing premise and relatable characters, This Wandering Heart is a delightful story of secrets and second chances.”
—Melissa Tagg, Carol Award–winning author of the Walker Family series and Now and Then and Always
Titles by Janine Rosche
this wandering heart
wildflower road
glory falls
A JOVE BOOK
Published by Berkley
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
penguinrandomhouse.com
Copyright © 2021 by Janine Rosche
Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.
A JOVE BOOK, BERKLEY, and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™
Ebook ISBN: 9780593100554
First Edition: January 2021
Cover art by Chris Cocozza
Cover design by Judith Lagerman
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Praise for Janine Rosche
Titles by Janine Rosche
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
To my brother, Robert, a hero always and everywhere.
Prologue
Heroes don’t wear crooked capes.” Cecelia “Blue” Walker straightened the knotted ends of the pillowcase in front of Thomas’s throat. She fluffed the rest of the fabric, pretending not to see the babyish pattern. When she was older, her movies would be so amazing they’d probably have a Lord of the Rings–sized costume budget. But at eleven years old, she needed to make do with the stuff her mom wouldn’t notice was missing. She scr
unched her nose. If her parents could afford that ritzy-ditzy private school in Los Angeles and a summer home on Montana’s Madison River, they could definitely afford more than this.
“Why am I wearing a cape again? I thought this was a prince and princess story.” Thomas Beck tugged at the collar. Weird. He never fought her. At least not for very long. It was always Yes, Blue, or You got it, Blue with the occasional Only if you promise not to tell, Blue. Yep, he was the best kind of friend, even if he was a boy.
She sighed. “You can’t possibly expect me to rewrite the same old story that’s been told a million and a half times, do you?”
“Guess not.”
“So in this scene, the superhero slayed—”
“Shh.” Thomas pressed his finger to his lips.
Blue glanced over her shoulder to where Cassie, Thomas’s seven-year-old little sister, slept on the barn floor with her fingers clutching the pink sleeping bag close to her mouth. “Sorry,” she said, lowering her voice. “You already slayed the magician’s dragon. Now, it’s time to save the princess.”
“How am I gonna do that? I thought she got turned into a frog.”
“She did. Now, where’s Fergie?”
“Over here.” Thomas grabbed the food storage container spotted with air holes and sat with it on his lap. Inside, the frog tried to climb up the sides. “What are we going to do with her?”
“Change her back into a princess with true love’s kiss.”
“What?” Thomas lunged back, nearly dropping the container. His penny-colored eyes almost fell out of his head, and Blue pinched her lips to keep from laughing. This wasn’t the time for silliness. Not when she’d been planning this moment all summer long.
A sleeping bag rustled on the far side of the barn where Cassie slept.
Thomas leaned forward and seethed through clenched teeth. “I’m not kissing any stinkin’ frogs!”
“But you have to. It’s in the script.” She held up her black-and-white composition notebook, its pages warped from a summer of writing by waterfalls and rivers.
“No way. I’ll get rabies.” When he shook his head, long strands of dark hair whipped around his face.
“I thought you were brave.”
“I am brave. Just not dumb. And hasn’t that been done before anyway? What happened to not writing the same old story?”
“You’re right. It’s stupid.” Blue felt a lump rise in her throat. “I’ll have to rewrite it, but we return to California on Friday. We won’t have time to act it out. It’ll have to wait until next summer.” She tossed the composition book on the pile of empty juice boxes as tears burned the back of her eyelids. “Why do I have to go back there every school year anyway?”
Thomas mashed his lips into a pencil-straight line. He closed his eyes, and his thick, dark lashes fanned his sunburned cheeks. Mom said God wasted those gorgeous lashes on a boy. Mom was weird sometimes. But Thomas was pretty in a way. Like her favorite actor, Heath Ledger, back when his hair was dark. Sometimes Blue liked to look at Thomas when he wasn’t paying attention. Then her tummy got all twisty, and her palms would sweat.
He opened his eyes and smiled a little bit. “It’s not stupid. One day you’re gonna win tons of awards for the movies you write.” He gulped. “I’ll do it for you. I mean, for the story.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know. I want to.”
She twisted the light until it circled him, then pretended to press record on her grandfather’s old, broken video camera.
He reached over to where she’d thrown her notebook, then settled back into the spotlight. He rummaged through the pages, eventually finding the scene. “And now, Princess Catriona, I shall save you with my—” Thomas rolled his eyes.
“Just say it.”
“With my velvety lips.”
Okay, not her best line. Carefully, she lifted the frog with both hands. “Now, close your eyes, and I’ll touch the frog to your lips real quick. But keep your eyes closed.”
“Will that make it less nasty?”
Blue shrugged. “The script says, ‘Hero closes his eyes.’ See?”
“Fine. Ugh. I can’t believe my first kiss is gonna be with an amphibian. You owe me a Popsicle, you know.” He squeezed his eyes closed and puckered his face.
Blue held Fergie out, then taking a deep breath, she lowered the frog, leaned forward, and pecked Thomas’s lips with her own. He jerked backward, bumping his head on the stall wall. He spat on the floor a bunch of times and used his shirt to wipe off his mouth. “That was the grossest of gross things ever.”
After a quick turn away, Blue put Fergie back in her tote and latched the lid.
“What scene’s next? I don’t want to think about that one anymore.”
She yanked the elastic out of her hair, letting the long blond strands shield her flaming cheeks. Tears would cool them, but she trapped them inside.
Thomas nudged her foot with his. “Hey, Blue, you okay? If I didn’t do it right, I guess I can do it again. I don’t want to mess up your story.”
“No, you did good. That’s a wrap for tonight. It’s super late, and Mom and Dad will want me home.”
When she stood, he followed. Like he always did. If only she could take him with her to California. That would make sixth grade way easier. No more taunts on the playground. Thomas was the gentle kind, but if it came down to it, he’d stand up for her against those bullies in school. She couldn’t help it that she came from Hollywood royalty.
Thomas bent down to Cassie. “Hey, Cass, it’s bedtime. Let’s go inside.” His prod did nothing except make her snore louder than the Madison River across the highway.
Blue opened the top half of the barn door, and the opening framed Thomas’s house. It looked like a movie scene with the blue-black sky rising above the mountains in the Madison River Canyon. With just three bedrooms, it was a small house, especially compared to Blue’s. But it was also dirty and packed full of his parents’ things—one of the reasons they spent so much time in the barn, down by the creek, or in her basement.
Ugly words sliced through the late-summer air. Dad said Mr. and Mrs. Beck should at least close their windows when they got going. Blue prayed their fights would leave the house for good if they left the windows open. So far, that prayer was a bust. Thomas joined her at the door, propping his arms on the still-closed bottom half.
“Do you think they’ll ever stop fighting?” she asked.
He shrugged his skinny shoulders. “Why does anyone want to get married anyway?” He didn’t talk much, but that was okay. At the café down the road, Mr. Matthews said Blue talked enough for both of them. They were a team, after all.
“We better sleep out here again.” Thomas grabbed the red sleeping bag off the shelf and unrolled it. Then, he placed it next to his sister. “See you tomorrow?”
“Sure. Maybe my mom and dad will take us to the café for breakfast. Robbie and Ryann can help me with the next scene. Ryann would make a great princess, don’t ya think?”
Thomas gave a small nod. He totally had a crush on Robbie’s older sister, Ryann. Meanwhile, he didn’t even know Blue was a girl.
A crash sounded from inside the house. Broken glass, then more yelling. No wonder he didn’t want to get married. As for her, she couldn’t wait to get hitched. What could be better than having someone to sit next to on the porch swing, someone to dance with in the kitchen after dinner, or someone to kiss the way the movie stars do? Too bad she’d have to find someone other than Thomas to marry. No one on earth was as perfect as him.
As Thomas settled onto the ground, his little sister cuddled up to him. He put his arm around her. “G’night, Blue.”
“Good night.”
Blue hiked herself over the door, shutting the upper half, although she was more concerned with keeping the fighting out than any of the Montan
a wildlife. Her home, with its three stories and big windows, looked like a castle compared to Thomas’s. Because it butted right up to the mountains, the front yard was really a big hill. Blue and Thomas loved to race up it. She was still faster, but sometimes she let him win. In the front window, her mother’s shadow blocked the light from the family room.
Blue went in through the garage door. A quick turn would take her into the basement where earlier, she and Thomas had built the best blanket fort in the West. Instead, she climbed the back stairs that led to the main floor. When she heard her parents talking, she ducked into the mudroom, keeping an ear perked out into the hall.
“Poor Thomas and Cassie,” her mother said. “Such sweet children. They deserve a better home life.”
Sometimes, Blue felt guilty. She’d hit the jackpot with her parents. Not only did they love Blue like crazy, but they also still loved each other, twenty years after meeting on the set of a movie musical. Her father was the screenwriter, and her mother was the choreographer and voice coach. No wonder her mother’s voice was like whipped cream compared to Mrs. Beck’s Tabasco sauce.
“Linda, come sit with me. Touched by an Angel is on.”
“How can I ignore it? It’s breaking my heart. Should we call Child and Family Services?”
“And what if we did, and they acted? Blue would never forgive us if they took Thomas away.”
Blue bumped the broom, and it clattered on the floor.
“Blue?” her father called.
“Hey, Dad.” She followed the short hall into the kitchen. Her nose picked up the buttery sweet scent of her mother’s chocolate chip cookies. She sniffed it out, beyond the kitchen island, to the plate of baked deliciousness on the mahogany dining table with two more chairs than their three-person family needed.
“Come here, girl. I haven’t seen you all day.” Her father rose from the couch a few yards away, stretching out his arms to her.
She hurried to him, accepting his hug. It was almost enough to soothe the sting of her embarrassing blunder. If she wanted, she could talk to them about the frog-kiss catastrophe, but then Dad would put an end to their sleepovers for sure. She’d just have to bury that one down deep.