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  ACCLAIM FOR LINDSAY HARREL

  “A historical mystery and sweet modern-day story entwine to offer a message of healing, hope, and second chances set in charming Cornwall.”

  —Rachel Linden, author of Becoming the Talbot Sisters and Ascension of Larks, on The Secrets of Paper and Ink

  “In a delightful weaving of past and present, Lindsay Harrel creates authentic characters around a moving story that both inspires and encourages. The Secrets of Paper and Ink is about broken people, second chances, hope, and—my personal favorite—the incredible power of story.”

  —Heidi Chiavaroli, Carol award-winning author of Freedom’s Ring and The Hidden Side

  “In The Secrets of Paper and Ink, Lindsay Harrel explores the power of love—and how it influences us to make choices that bless others, as well as ourselves. Or sometimes, we can do just the opposite and make choices that harm us and others—all the while calling it love. Harrel pens an honest, true-to-life novel that’s woven through with the Truth that offers hope when our decisions—or the decisions of the ones we love—wreck our dreams for happily ever after.”

  —Beth K. Vogt, Christy-award winning author

  “A bucket list from the diary of an organ donor sparks a healing journey for two sisters in this poignant tale from Harrel . . . [The Heart Between Us], with many descriptions of delicious foods and famous landmarks from around the globe, will please readers of travel fiction looking for an inspirational story.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Narration by both Meg and Crystal, full of emotion and soul-searching, will resonate with anyone who has struggled to see another point of view. Both characters are drawn as independent and persistent, occasionally to their detriment, but not too stubborn to get past stumbling blocks. Harrel’s (One More Song to Sing, 2016) second novel is a charmingly gentle read that will please those who enjoy faith-based, hopeful fiction with a delightfully positive tone.”

  —Booklist on The Heart Between Us

  “Harrel’s second book is a well-crafted, compelling story about love, hope, relationships, family importance, and God’s trustworthiness.”

  —CBA Market on The Heart Between Us

  “Lindsay Harrel has penned a charming story that is sure to touch the hearts of her readers. Through the stories of Megan and her sister Crystal, readers get a glimpse of adventure, restoration, conquered fears, and realized dreams. Lindsay will no doubt win readers with this heartfelt story.”

  —Lauren K. Denton, USA TODAY bestselling author of The Hideaway and Hurricane Season, on The Heart Between Us

  “A sweet story of sisterhood, familial bonds, sacrificial love, and finding your own identity amidst the storms of life. Poignant with tender moments, as well as laughter, The Heart Between Us is a touching novel that is sure to please.”

  —Catherine West, author of The Memory of You and Where Hope Begins

  “I love this story of facing our fears. Harrel pens a clever, well-written love story between two sisters, the men in their lives and the dreams of a heart donor. Life is more fleeting than we know and this timeless story reminds us to love well.”

  —Rachel Hauck, New York Times bestselling author, on The Heart Between Us

  “The Heart Between Us is an absolute gem of a story. The intriguing premise drew me in from the start, but it was the authentic characters and their relatable struggles that kept me reading. I especially loved getting to travel vicariously through Megan and Crystal! A heart-tugging, not-to-be-missed book from an author who belongs on your keeper shelf.”

  —Melissa Tagg, author of the Walker Family series

  ALSO BY LINDSAY HARREL

  The Heart Between Us

  The Secrets of Paper and Ink

  © 2019 by Lindsay Harrel

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.

  Published in association with the Books & Such Literary Management, 52 Mission Circle, Suite 122, PMB 170, Santa Rosa, California 95409-5370, www.booksandsuch.com.

  Third party information is accurate to the best of author’s knowledge as of the date printed.

  Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please email [email protected].

  Scripture quotations are taken from The Message. Copyright © by Eugene H. Peterson 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Epub Edition January 2019 9780718075736

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Harrel, Lindsay, author.

  Title: The secrets of paper and ink / Lindsay Harrel.

  Description: Nashville, Tennessee : Thomas Nelson, [2019]

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018041167 | ISBN 9780718075729 (paperback)

  Classification: LCC PS3608.A7794 S43 2019 | DDC 813/.6--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018041167

  Printed in the United States of America

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  For Kent Walker

  Daddy, you’ve always been there for me,

  always believed in me, and always modeled for me

  how a man should treat and care for the woman he loves.

  I love you more than words can express.

  There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

  —Maya Angelou

  CONTENTS

  Acclaim for Lindsay Harrel

  Also by Lindsay Harrel

  Prologue

  1. Sophia

  2. Ginny

  3. Sophia

  4. Ginny

  5. Sophia

  6. Sophia

  7. Ginny

  8. Sophia

  9. Emily

  10. Ginny

  11. Sophia

  12. Emily

  13. Sophia

  14. Emily

  15. Ginny

  16. Emily

  17. Sophia

  18. Ginny

  19. Emily

  20. Sophia

  21. Ginny

  22. Sophia

  23. Emily

  24. Ginny

  25. Sophia

  26. Emily

  27. Ginny

  28. Sophia

  29. Emily

  30. Ginny

  31. Sophia

  32. Emily

  33. Ginny

  34. Sophia

  35. Ginny

  36. Emily

  37. Sophia

  38. Emily

  39. Sophia

  40. Ginny

  41. Sophia

  42. Ginny

  43. Sophia

  44. Ginny

  45. Sophia

  46. Ginny

  47. Sophia

  Epilogue: Emily

  A Note from the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Discussion Questions

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  Edward,

  Hello, new friend. I must say, the hollow of this tree is the p
erfect location to leave you a note. Thank you ever so much for allowing me to share your special spot. It’s nice to have a friend. All the children back home thought I wasn’t a proper enough lady because I prefer climbing trees to needlework. I am glad you are not like them.

  Cordially,

  Emily Fairfax

  Edward,

  You will not believe what happened today. While waiting for you to come by after your studies, I climbed into our tree, higher than I’ve ever climbed—even past that large branch overhanging the ocean where you normally sit and try to frighten me—and I became so hypnotized by the waves that I slipped and nearly fell! It was quite an adventure, one I’m quite sure Captain Nathaniel Pike would have been proud of (if he was more than just a character in our favorite stories, of course). My mother would have had a few things to say if she’d seen me, though I believe she secretly likes my antics.

  From the girl at the tree,

  Emily

  Edward,

  Thank you for the note and the new book you left for me to read. I can hardly wait to dive into its depths and learn more about America. It looks to be a wild land full of adventure, one where people are not so constrained by decorum. I think I should like to see it one day. Would you care to go with me?

  Your friend,

  Emily

  Edward,

  It’s hard to believe you’ve been gone for three months (you will have many letters piled up in the tree’s hollow by now), but I look forward to Christmas holiday when you will return.

  I have kept up my studies, and I read late into the night when I am able so you won’t have an advantage over me. I may never be able to go to a fancy school like you, but that does not mean I’ll let you whip me so easily! Be prepared to match wits upon your return, my friend.

  With affection,

  Emily

  Edward,

  I leave tomorrow to begin life as a governess. I do not love the thought, but ’tis the way of things for girls whose fathers are poor reverends, and I am proud to begin earning my own wage. Now that you are away at Oxford, life around here has grown quite dull, and I am thrilled to see what excitement this new life will bring.

  My sister has already been gone from home for two years. Can you believe it? Mother has spent that time teaching me all she knows. As always, she has encouraged me to remember that what others see as my faults may be my greatest strengths. Oh, how I pray that is true!

  I do not know when next we will meet in person, but perhaps you will find this note before then. Whenever I do return for a visit, I will run immediately to our tree to see if you have left me a note of your own.

  I have come to love our exchanges. You challenge me more and know me better than anyone else ever has, or ever could.

  Your friend always,

  Em

  Edward,

  Mother is gone. My sister too. Cholera has taken them both. My life is not what it once was. Father is a shell of a man, and I have moved home to care for him.

  I have turned to writing more than merely letters. Every night I sit at my desk and pour out my pain from pen to paper. Stories of every variety gather inside and beg for release, so I obey.

  And I have found the one subject that brings me joy—you, dearest Edward.

  Because I love you.

  I think I always have, ever since at age eleven you told me that you thought ladies were dull and you much preferred being in my company. You scampered up our tree, pausing and asking me to follow. And follow you I did. And follow you I would, if only you would ask.

  But I know that will never occur.

  I can never admit my feelings to you, and because of that, this is the one note that will never find its way into our tree. But I will burst if I do not at least express it somehow.

  And so I turn to the written word, and my love for you is a secret I will keep hidden, forever etched only in paper and ink.

  Yours ever truly,

  Em

  1

  SOPHIA

  When life was busy, three months had a way of flurrying by.

  But Sophia Barrett’s last ninety-two days had passed in a drizzle of constant monotony. She’d spent them curled up napping on her leather couch, reading well-worn novels, and sitting in a slew of therapy sessions.

  Thank goodness today was day ninety-three and she was finally standing in front of her office. She straightened her freshly pressed blazer, adjusted the strap of her laptop bag across her shoulder, and blew out a breath. At long last, a return to normalcy. Her trembling hand pulled on the large black door to Suite 608 and swung it open.

  Sophia walked through the door and did her best to pretend like she was still the strong, confident woman whose mission in life was to help others through their pain.

  The waiting room smelled like lavender as always, the view of downtown Phoenix from the window behind the secretary’s desk remained unchanged, and the wall fountain to her right still had a way of soothing her nerves.

  But something about being here felt different. Maybe it was simply Sophia who had changed.

  Kristin’s head popped up from the large, oak secretary desk. “You’re back!” The intern unhooked her headset and rushed from behind the desk, throwing her arms around Sophia. “We’ve all missed you.”

  “I’ve missed being here.” Sophia released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

  “You chopped your hair!” Kristin tilted her head and chewed her gum as she studied Sophia. “I love it.”

  “Thanks.” Sophia reached up to tug at the shorter strands, which now barely reached her shoulders. David had always liked her hair long. “It was time for a change.”

  Kristin’s smile turned sympathetic. She squeezed Sophia’s shoulder. “Good to have you back. I know Dr. Beckman has been going crazy without you.”

  “I’m sure Joy has survived just fine.”

  “No, Joy has not. But that’s beside the point.”

  Sophia turned to find her best friend standing in the hallway, hands on her hips. Joy Beckman stood at barely five feet tall, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in personality. From her blond pixie haircut to her outlandish jewelry and bright-colored clothing, no one could accuse Joy of not being her own person. Sophia, on the other hand, was much more comfortable in her black pants and cream-colored blouse, perfectly content to not stand out.

  But despite their differences and the nearly ten-year age gap between them, Joy was more friend and pseudo big sister to Sophia than a boss.

  “Hey.” Sophia leaned down to hug Joy. “It’s not like it was my idea to sit at home for the last three months. You’re the one who banished me.”

  Joy rolled her eyes. “Come on. I’ll brief you on your schedule for today.” The phone rang. “Kristin, can you get that, please?”

  “Of course.” Kristin scrambled back behind the desk and slid her headset on. “LifeSong Women’s Counseling. How can I help you?”

  Sophia followed Joy down the short hallway into her friend’s office. She picked a photo off Joy’s cluttered desk. “You got new pictures done.” In the photo, a jubilant Joy sat surrounded by five dogs.

  “I couldn’t very well have a photo without Lion. He’d be offended.” Joy took the photo from Sophia’s hands and glanced at it briefly, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

  “Lion is a tiny, nine-year-old dog with one eye that you rescued in his old age. I think it would take a lot to offend him.” Sophia plopped into the seat opposite Joy, who slid into the office chair behind her desk. “So, do you have any appointments scheduled for me today? I wasn’t sure whether you decided to transition my former clients back to me or keep them with Veronica.” Though she’d seen her outside the office several times a week, Joy had always refused to discuss work, believing it would only stress Sophia out more to know what she was missing.

  Joy searched the piles of paper on her desk and finally pulled a piece loose. “Here. I sent this via e-mail but thought we co
uld chat briefly before you got all settled in.”

  Sophia took the paper from Joy’s hand and studied it. She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one name on this list.”

  “You should start slow.” Her friend worried her bottom lip. “I’m still not sure you should be here. Three months isn’t that long.”

  “Three months is plenty long. I was wasting away on that couch and you know it.” Sophia tried hard to keep the accusation from her tone, but it slipped in anyway.

  “Nobody said you had to spend the three months twiddling your thumbs.”

  “I didn’t.” At Joy’s pointed look, Sophia huffed. “Okay, fine. I guess I did. A little.” At first, it’d been so hard to deal with the fact that she’d had a mental breakdown—in the grocery store of all places—on the first anniversary of David’s death. Somehow she’d managed to hold it together for a year—denial was a many-faceted beast—and seeing the expensive brand of protein powder he had liked on the clearance shelf had just set her off.

  How embarrassing to think back to the way she had taken every single container, unscrewed the lids, and dumped the contents onto the floor, not stopping until she was sobbing in a pile of powder and empty tubs.

  Needless to say, she hadn’t been back to that particular grocery store, even though she’d apologized profusely and paid for the mess she’d created.

  After that, facing anyone other than Mom, Joy, and Cindy—the therapist who had walked Sophia through the worst of it—had been too difficult. It had seemed easiest to bury her nose in her favorite books and just grin and bear her sentence as quickly as possible: three months’ paid leave from work.

  Most people would find that sentence glorious. But most weren’t trying to forget a dead fiancé and all the complicated feelings his death still raised in her, now more than a year after a car accident had taken him from this life into the next.

  “I’m not judging you. I’m just concerned. You know that. David did a number on you. And when he died, you stuffed all your feelings away and tried your best to pretend his death didn’t affect you.”