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eBook Category: Romance
eBook Description: After seven long years, Jackson Miracle has come home to Oklahoma. The one girl who held his heart, Laura, had married another man all those years ago and was surely by now a seasoned parent and wife, with a house full of children. After the wedding Jackson had left town and hadn't been back. Why had he come to realize the depth of his feelings for Laura on her wedding day? Too late ... or is it? Someone has fixed up the Krenshaw place ... a single woman with a young daughter ... the famous painter, L. Turner. Who is this L. Turner? Jackson has to investigate. And the woman he finds there still makes his heart do flip-flops. And as he models for her latest painting, he has to think of a way to reach her after all of this time...

eBook Publisher: Awe-Struck E-Books, Published: 2000
Fictionwise Release Date: July 2002

39 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [450 KB], eReader (PDB) [207 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [193 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [177 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [650 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [217 KB], hiebook (KML) [434 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [213 KB], iSilo (PDB) [159 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [200 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [227 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [262 KB]
Words: 63000
Reading time: 180-252 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"My ideal romance must have two characters that compliment each other superbly. Laura and Jackson in That Miracle Man could not be a more perfect match! This character-based romance is so tender and sensuous; I was entranced from the opening page! Laura may have been shy when she was younger, but there is a touch of brazen temptress that pops out every now and then that drives Jackson wild. The dialogue and narrative between the two is exceptionally steamy throughout, but each character is hesitant to commit due to the fact that they barely know each other after six years. The dialogue and narrative are deliciously crisp, humorous and sexy! I think every woman needs a touch of Jackson in her significant other!"--Tracy Farnsworth, theromancereadersconnection.com

"...So I'm leaving you."

Laura sat very still on the edge of the bed watching her husband fuss with those designer shirts she could never seem to launder to his liking and pack them neatly into his suitcase. He closed it with a click and turned to face her.

"I know this is hard for you to understand," he said slipping into his new leather jacket and stealing a quick glimpse at the mirror to smooth his hair. He had his priorities. "Now you're not going to go and cry on me, are you?"

She looked at him and clenched her teeth. My God, he was actually waiting for her to cry. Hoping that's what she would do. Cry. Beg for him to stay. Say she would do anything as long as he wouldn't leave, and then he could leave feeling as powerful as he always wanted to.

Why had she married such a coward as Scott Turner less than eighteen months ago? No. She knew why. There was no need to go over that again. She had done what she thought she should do. But now, did he really expect her to run after him, pleading for him to stay? As if she could run anywhere eight-and-a-half months pregnant.

She got up slowly from the bed and smoothed her nightgown over her swollen stomach before she walked to the bedroom window and looked out. He had left his new sports car running in front of the house and Laura could see his blond "friend" tapping time to the music from the car radio. From the ranch house window, she looked out over the Oklahoma prairie. There was the smell of rain in the spring night and a breeze was picking up. It would rain hard soon and wash the dust out of the air. Tomorrow the colors would be brilliant. Perfect for painting, and her fingers itched, just thinking about the feel of her paintbrush capturing their brilliance.

Laura smiled. Her husband was leaving her. And she was relieved. Yes, she could paint in the morning and all afternoon and the next day and the next. And never again would she have to endure his comments. Laura's little paint by numbers--'course she can't count very high. Painting, oh, it just keeps her busy while she's off her back. Yeah, she learned everything she needed to know in kindergarten--finger-painting.

Laura remembered the shocked look on the Houston art dealer's face after he finished looking at Laura's windblown landscapes and heard her husband's comments.

He had cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Mr. Turner," he had said gently, but firmly, "your wife's paintings are some of the freshest, most original work I've seen in years. This isn't everyday talent."

She also remembered the look on Scott's face as the dealer drove away after carefully loading six of Laura's paintings into his late model van. He'd made her promise to call him the moment she had others finished.

Scott had looked, how would her mother have described it had she still been alive? He looked peeved. He had actually pouted. Like a small child who was angry because it was a sibling's birthday and he wasn't getting enough attention. Or in Scott's case, Laura had suddenly realized, all the attention. He was no longer the high school football hero. His days as the president of his college fraternity had faded quickly as his grades began to slip. And he wasn't even spending too much time at the bank after being groomed by his father to take his place as president.

"You'd better get going, Scott," said Laura gazing out the window at the uneasy Oklahoma sky. "I think it's going to rain."

"Well, all right then, missy, have it your way," he said and left, once again throwing the blame in her lap, angry that there had been no tears.

She heard him stomp down the stairs and watched him throw his bag into the back of the red car before climbing in himself and bestowing a clumsy kiss on the blonde for Laura's benefit.

Then he was gone.

Why had he married her? Maybe because her father had the biggest spread in this part of the state and Scott never looked more attentive than when there was talk of an inheritance. That was something he had been an expert on. How not to work for money. Although he had made considerable jokes at Laura's expense about how it had been "work" to court her.

Maybe he had married her because tall, gangling Laura Manning had been no competition for him. Everyone had been surprised when Scott Turner had focused his slick charm on Laura, the shy brown-haired, brown-eyed art student. She certainly wasn't like the buxom, blond-haired ladies he usually dated. But then one of them couldn't have played the part of the respected banker's wife while he cooled his heels waiting for the expected inheritance. For awhile it had worked. He attended the barbecues that peppered the countryside in the fall with his new bride, dancing and flirting with the beauties he favored and then leaving, weaving more than a little as the season dragged on, with Laura, ignored until he needed a ride home. It had been after one of those parties, a particularly long one for Scott's drinking, that a rancher had complimented Laura on one of her paintings that he had seen at the local library. It had been the first time anyone had complimented her so. Scott had grabbed her when she had helped him up the stairs and flung her onto the bed, taking her more brutishly than usual before he fell into a drunken sleep.

It was after that night, with no questions asked, that she had moved into one of the spare bedrooms and three weeks later she realized she was pregnant. She had locked her bedroom door after that. But it didn't seem to matter. Scott seemed to realize he had overstepped the boundaries for even his behavior. He had stayed away--probably with his blond friend, thought Laura.

She had been relieved. She hadn't been any too experienced with sex when she married Scott. Maybe he had counted on that, too. Because their time in bed had been, well, a disappointment. Just like in his waking hours, his needs always came first. If Scott Turner had been good at one thing, it had been at making Laura feel inadequate. None of his other women--and he always made it clear that he had had plenty--had questioned his performance.

"Must be you, missy," he'd grunt before turning over.

No. She wouldn't be crying over Scott. True. He'd left her eight-and-a-half months pregnant. But she'd manage. Her paintings were selling. She could support herself. It was actually a blessing. If Scott had had a difficult time dealing with the attention she got, she'd shuddered to think how he would have reacted to the attention an innocent child would get.

No. No tears for Scott. But then why as she watched the car lights disappear down the country road did she dab away the wetness on her cheeks with the sleeve of her gown?

Then she realized. She wanted to talk to Jackson. Her friend, Jackson Miracle. Best Man at her wedding, because, Jackson had told her, he would look damn silly in one of those peach-colored dresses she had chosen for her bridesmaids.

Peach. That's what Jackson had called her. She never knew why. Never knew why that great big man had become her closest friend. Big bones, big hands, over six feet five easily, but with a soft-spoken calm that flowed over a person like a gentle breeze.

Gentle Jackson. That's what Laura called him privately. And wouldn't she give just about anything to talk with him over a glass of root beer right now. But she couldn't. She'd only heard bits and pieces about where he was when she ran into his dad in the grocery store. He'd left hours after her wedding for God knows where.

"Jackson," Mr. Miracle would say proudly, "that boy can smell oil." And smell it he did all over the world as a private consultant. "The oil companies think Jackson is okay," he'd laugh with pride at his son's success. They kept him so busy he never seemed to get home.

The baby kicked a good one and she opened the window wide to breathe in the fresh night air. It was late. At least it was in Bantam, Oklahoma. But what time was it wherever, in God's name, Jackson Miracle was. Was the sun coming up? Was it blazing hot? Laura leaned on the windowsill and squinted her eyes as if trying to see something that wasn't there.

Where was Jackson? But more importantly, would he ever be coming home?