I’m delighted to welcome British mystery author Veronica Helely who is going to tell us the story of a modern Ruth and share about her latest mystery. Here’s Veronica:
“Hard times in a northern country meant that a new family moved down to live in Ruth’s village and began to learn the language and the local customs. The young people were only too pleased to help the two young men in the family – within the limits of what was right and proper, of course. The newcomers soon found work and in due course Ruth and one of her friends were delighted to be chosen as the young men’s wives.
An added bonus was that their new mother-in-law was the most delightful company. She brought with her much native wisdom and folk lore from her homeland and the love of her caring God shone through in all her dealings. Soon, no doubt, Ruth and her friend would have children, and the family would be properly absorbed into the village.
Month after month passed and Ruth was distressed to find she still had not conceived. At first she feared her husband might reject her as barren and return her to her family, but as the years went by and neither she nor her friend became pregnant, they lost hope that they would ever have children.
Tragedy struck after ten years. First their father-in-law died, and then his two sons. Their mother-in-law was distraught. Bereft of husband and sons, she decided to return to her own village. Ruth and her sister-in-law both wanted to go with her, but in the end it was only Ruth who made the journey. And there in Bethlehem she found a new life, a second husband and bore a son – a grandson at last for Naomi.
Being unable to conceive can be a great sorrow for a woman. Nowadays some are helped with medical techniques, but some have to accept that they will never bear a child. My mystery heroine Ellie Quicke had a series of miscarriages after the birth of her daughter Diana. These sapped her strength at the time but gave her an understanding of sorrow, and an empathy with those who suffer. Perhaps she would never have gone out of her way to help youngsters in trouble, if it had not been for the miscarriages which had seemed so devastating at the time.
MURDER IN MIND finds her reaching out to rescue two young members of a family at risk, not to mention taking in the difficult son of a single parent family. I dread to think what would have happened to all three, if she had not made her heart large enough to take them in. What she learned through her own losses helped to make her the strong, sympathetic woman we know and love.
A touching connection between the past and present, Veronica. And it’s so true–our most trying experiences form us into the people we are–for better or worse. Some use their sad experiences to tear down others while many use them to help and encourage others. James says in his book, “Count it all joy when you fall into all kinds of trials.” (Lyn’s paraphrase) I haven’t gotten as far as counting it as a joy, but I can see how God has used my hardest times for my good and for the good of others. Do any of you want to relate what trials have helped you help others?–:Lyn
My guest today is Author Renee Andrews and she is going to tell us how she gave a gift no one else could. She’s also offering an autographed copy of Love Reunited and an autographed copy of Guideposts’ Mornings With Jesus 2013 to one commenter. So don’t forget to leave a comment! Here’s Renee:
In May 2010, I met a 24-year-old young man named Matt who had been on dialysis for 4 years. He reminded me of my boys. Matt had recently married and wanted to start a full life with his new bride, but the dialysis was gradually failing. On the day I met him, I told my husband that I felt in my heart that I might be a match. My husband said that no one in Matt’s family had matched. The doctors anticipated he had 5-10 years to live if a match wasn’t found.
I couldn’t get Matt off my heart or my desire to try and help. I honestly believe God gave me that knowledge, whispering to my heart that I could help and that I should act on that desire. Without telling Matt, I called the hospital the next day and asked if I could be tested. They said it’d be a long shot but said I could come in for the first test. They called the next week and let me know the first test matched.
I went through two more months of testing, each test showing a match, before my husband and I invited Matt and Brittany to dinner to tell them what I was doing. I’ll never forget telling them, seeing their tears and knowing that God wasn’t finished yet. Sure enough, Matt and I both went through the remaining two months of tests and then on November 11, 2010, I donated a kidney that matched, according to the doctors, “better than a sibling.” The odds were against us matching, but with God, all things are possible, and that match was all God.
Now, it took more courage than I’d have thought I had for me to have the surgery that gave Matt the chance at a full life. And I wouldn’t have had it on my own, but with God, I felt strong, able and blessed to have the opportunity.
In my book Love Reunited, Georgiana Sanders was raised as the golden girl of Claremont, Alabama. Homecoming queen and small town beauty, she is as stunning inside as out, and is loved by everyone. She marries the star quarterback, moves to Tampa and begins what the town sees as a perfect marriage. But when an accident takes her sight and Pete sees her as less than perfect, he becomes verbally abusive and then ultimately leaves his wife. Georgiana returns to her hometown with their daughter Abi. There, with the help of her family, the community, and her childhood friend Landon Cutter, she lets God speak to her heart again, telling her He loves her and that He will be with her always. With God and with Landon, Georgiana finds the strength to truly live again…and love again.
Available through Guideposts, either their book club or online. The
link is: http://www.shopguideposts.org/mornings-with-jesus.html
Thanks, Renee, you have my respect. I would have enough trouble thinking of having surgery again for myself–much less someone else. Now don’t foget, Renee is offering a copy of her two books to one commenter. Here’s the question:
Have you ever seen someone demonstrate sacrificial love?–Lyn
Today’s guest is one of my FUN friends. Author Annie Jones has a fun outlook and a sassy charm I find invigorating. 🙂 If you haven’t visited her zany VINTAGE blog, Dear Helen Hartman, YOU MUST! Here’s Annie’s story of finding the strength to break free:
“When Lyn invited me to be a guest blogger I had a million ideas about what I would say! Ideas, all of us writers usually have more than we know what to do with. When those ideas are new and we have the fire for them it’s all we can do to keep them under control. But that’s what writing is, what good story telling is at its heart — controlling the ideas and crafting them into a form that others can relate to and understand.
Nothing taught me how to do that like writing for the genre romance market. From the category romance (such as Love Inspired) world I learned what I so often teach: Every word must serve the story. It should reveal character, advance the plot or underscore the theme. I love writing like that. Keeping it tight and the focus narrowed on the hero/heroine journey. But as I branched out into larger books and larger markets I found that instead of allowing storytelling to grow right along with it all, all too often the demands of marketing, editorial preferences and word count became as much a part of writing as the storytelling was! Let me tell you, making every word count is difficult when you have to deliver 90,000 to 100,000 of those words! Then add the idea that there are a whole list of words you cannot use, even in their innocent common usage? YIKES! (Is that okay to say, y’all?) For me this is the blessing of having back list books in my control once again. Through self- published e-books, I had the chance to do it all again. My words are once again MY words. In bringing older books a new life the first and most obvious task is updating – it’s so funny to read references to cell phones as rare and mysterious inventions! That’s the easy stuff. The hardest part was finding all the times when I refused to ‘kill my darlings’, letting wordy sentences or ever scenes stand (oh, that word count!). I hope not too many of those ‘darlings’ survived in the wonderful new world of writing I’ve found releasing my revised books to Kindle!
The best part of this new adventure is that having lived with these books and having seen and heard how others responded to them I was able to hone in on the things that mattered most – character, story and theme. It has been a learning experience that I will carry forward in all my writing. I encourage anyone who has an older book or even unpublished manuscript around to do what I have done. Give it, and yourself, a second chance to tell that story that once burned within you. You won’t regret it.”–Annie/Helen
I don’t know about you but Annie’s Christmas book looks FAB! And even if you aren’t a writer, I think you can take what Annie said and apply it to almost any endeavor. is there something that used to be fun and has lost that zest? Go back and find that joy.--Lyn
What readers are saying about Christmas Sisters:
“ I was sad when it ended because I really got to know the characters. ”
“ It is a story of hope, forgiveness, redemption and standing strong in the midst of challenging circumstances. ” Lady Holly
“ This is a heartwarming story that will give you that warm fuzzy feeling clear to the end. ”
AND IT’S ONLY 99 CENTS!
BTW, Melody D won a copy of Legacy of Love by Christine Johnson. Congrats!
My guest today Author Christine Johnson is one of the newer voices to write for Love Inspired Historicals. She’s offering a giveaway of her latest book. Here’s Christine:
“I’m thrilled to join you here today. Do you know someone with quiet strength? I’m not talking about the boastful or physical kind, but about the sort of strength that often goes unnoticed. It’s sometimes called inner strength, the thing we call upon when the going gets tough.
Mrs. Simmons in my Pearlman series has that quality. She tragically lost her husband years before and, with two children to raise, has to clean houses and take in mending to make ends meet. That kind of fortitude generates the wisdom to see the big picture.
I’ve been blessed with some wonderful role models of quiet strength. One of them was my grandmother. When her husband joined the war effort in WWII, she had to raise four children with few resources. She wasn’t alone. Many wives faced that same struggle…and still do. It can’t be easy. I salute those military spouses that hold together the family while their husband or wife is overseas.
My grandmother’s door and arms were always open. Many boarders drifted in and out of their house through the years. I remember them like colorful pages in a picture book. She always made people feel special. Together with my grandfather she helped impoverished children in Mexico get an education.
But her most courageous battle was with Alzheimer’s disease. It runs in the family, and as the youngest she watched older sisters fall victim to this terrible illness. The prospect of it must have terrified her. You see, she was a prolific letter and journal writer. Her journals from the 1920s have inspired my stories. Alzheimer’s disease steals both the mind and the victim’s dignity. Like her sisters, she could not evade it, and ever so slowly it took away the grandmother I knew. Our visits to the nursing home left me anguished, and many nights I dreamt that my grandmother was her old self again. But those were only dreams. Toward the end, she could no longer speak, but she still sang. The words were garbled and the tune difficult to make out. Hours later, I finally realized that her last song was “Jesus Loves Me.” Even during the ravages of disease, she knew her strength lay with Him.
In my books, Mrs. Simmons faces many trials. Through every one, she abides in quiet, unbreakable strength, for she knows that Jesus is by her side. My grandmother is just one of the Lord’s witnesses in my life. Who in your life has shown quiet strength?
Today I’ll be giving away a copy of my book, Legacy of Love, in which Mrs. Simmons’ restless, imaginative daughter, Anna, aspires to become an Egyptologist and discover lost tombs, like the newly-discovered tomb of King Tutankhamun. With no funds for such an adventure, it’ll take the wisdom of quiet strength to show Anna that sometimes the greatest treasure can be found right at home.”–Christine
Christine, Thanks so much for being my guest and sharing about your grandmother. What a woman. To be entered into the drawing, please answer Christine’s question:
Fearless by Maimah S Karmo is an inspiring book. I read with interest about Maimah’s early life in Liberia, Africa and her adjustment to immigrating to America when political unrest made her home country unsafe. Maimah begins to live the American dream, getting an education, living the “good life.” But when she is diagnosed with breast cancer at only 32, that ME life crumbles.
When she faces this, she says that her “sitcom faith” failed her and she searched for God and understanding.
Maimah does an excellent job of portraying the shock of being diagnosed with cancer and describing the experience of undergoing a lumpectomy, chemo and radiation while still trying to be a mother to her little girl, Noe. In the process, she gains a new purpose for her life, to help others who suffer early breast cancer.
I would recommend this book for anyone who wants to read an inspiraitonal true life story. My only caveat would be that Maimah expresses some New Age spirituality (such as former lives) that I don’t accept. However that didn’t dim my appreciation for her life story and her commitment to helping others through her Tigerlily Foundation. Note: I received this book free but this is an honest review of the book. I write nothing less!
Here is Maimah Karmo’s foundation http://www.tigerlilyfoundation.org/
My guest today is Love Inspired Author Leann Harris. She has something to say about the “can do” spirit. Here’s Leann:
“In my latest book, Fresh-Start Ranch, the heroine, Dr. Tessa Grant, is a woman who struggled against the odds of having her father leave the family. Her mother and Tessa struggled to make it alone. When the creditors came to their ranch, Tessa worked out a deal with the new owners of the farm to keep her horse there at the farm and work for horse breeder to help with his stock. Tessa doesn’t take no.
That spirit was inspired by my mother, who knew that a poor girl in the wrong neighborhood in her city wouldn’t make it, so she transferred to another high school on the other side of town. She took 2 buses to get to school. Mom also was so bad in chemistry she blew up the chemistry lab and got a D. But that didn’t stop her. It was my mom’s “can do” spirit, and “nothing will stop me”, attitude I drew upon as I wrote the book.
Tessa had her flaws, but God was able to deal with her wounds and heart. I hope my children think their mom has a can do attitude as their grandmother.”–Leann
Leann, thanks for sharing about your mother and her positive approach to life–an inspiration to all of us!–Lyn
My guest today is my good friend Gail Martin (who also wrote at Gail Gaymer Martin) and she is going to share her mother’s story of perseverance. Here’s Gail:
WOMEN’S STRENGTH TO PERSEVERE
When I think of strong women, I think of my mother who grew up during the Depression, quit school in the tenth grade, married at sixteen, and yet accomplished amazing things in her lifetime. Raised in poverty, my mother never let that affect her self-worth. She encouraged my sister, brother and I to be all that we could be. She encouraged our faith growth serving as an example by participating weekly in worship, women’s activities and singing in the choir where my father also sang. We grew up lovers of music and art. My own love of the same provided me a wonderful backdrop to express myself in song and in word. After my father died, leaving my mother a widow at forty-four, she went back to school, graduated from high school and went on to college where she became a licensed practical nurse and worked for many years as a hospital pediatric nurse. She lived to the age of eight-three, loving the Lord, active in her faith, optimistic, cheerful, kind and generous. She was loved by many for her giving and joyful heart.
When I began my romantic suspense, Finding Christmas, the story of Joanna Fuller who lost her husband and three year old daughter in a tragic accident on a winter night when their car was found below the surface of Lake St. Clair, I thought of the same kind of perseverance. Though the husband’s body was recovered her daughter’s was not. A continual premonition that her daughter was alive unsettles her life. She is encouraged by everyone to let the pain and struggle end, but as the third anniversary of their deaths arrive close to Christmas, a disturbing telephone call won’t leave her mind. Taking her belief to the police, they do nothing since she has no proof except a phone call, her strong will, and a deep feeling of motherly love. Determined, she pursues the search for her daughter on her own, piecing together shards of information and pursuing leads. Witnessing her resolve, Ben Drake, a friend and coworker of her late husband, supports her yet still encourages her to let the police do their job. She trusts no one and bravely endangers her own life to find her daughter.
I enjoy novels that show women’s strength and admire strong women like my mother and Joanna Fuller. I want to give my women the same characteristics in my stories of life, love and faith.”–Gail
My guest today Award-winning author Robin Lee Hatcher tells about her spunky heroines AND the Journey Toward Trust. Here’s Robin:
“I come from a long line of strong, courageous women. Women who came to America from Sweden and Ireland and England to forge better lives. Women who moved west with their families when the west was still raw.
Strong and courageous are words I would use to describe my mother, although she would have declared to her dying day (she graduated to heaven in 2010) that she was neither of those things. But she did a great job of raising me and my brother alone after the death of my dad in a plane crash when I was four months old. I admired her more than I can express.
In 2009, a starred review in Library Journal said, “A master of lively historical romances, Hatcher demonstrates an expert ability to craft spunky, unlikely heroines who go against the tide of the times in which they live, making for fun, exciting stories.”
I guess “spunky heroines” are one of my trademarks, but I confess I didn’t set out to make it so. I simply write about the kind of women who interest me, the kind I admire, the ones I want to cheer for and see succeed.
That’s the way I feel about Julia Grace. She stepped onto the front porch of her log ranch house in western Wyoming and straight into my heart. A woman who has known great betrayal, she now faces an uncertain future on her own. Human nature, after we’ve been hurt by another, is to withdraw and self-protect. And as Julia’s creator, I wanted to see her learn to trust again. Enter Hugh Brennan, who knows a great deal about rejection and pain himself.
Here’s the official blurb for Betrayal, my 66th book (November 2012, Zondervan):
It’s the turn of the twentieth century and drifter Hugh Brennan is a man well acquainted with betrayal. Hugh finds himself drawn to the attractive widow, Julia, yet when he looks into her eyes, he recognizes the same hurt that haunts him.
Julia Grace has little reason to trust men, but she’s going to have to trust someone if she’s to keep her ranch from the clutches of her dead husband’s half-brother. Is it possible God had a hand in bringing Hugh to her door?
The latest historical romance from award-winning author Robin Lee Hatcher and the second book in the Where the Heart Lives series, Betrayal will take you to the high desert of western Wyoming, through the crags of the Rocky Mountains, and into the hearts of two seekers learning to trust God’s love no matter the circumstances.
RT Book Club says: “Hatcher is a consistent ‘must read’ author. Her books are always engaging, and Betrayal [a Top Pick for November] is no different. The characters are very real, their trials and tribulations are easy to relate to and the setting is well researched. You’ll feel a warm, satisfying glow after turning the final page of this touching novel.”
I hope you’ll join Julia and Hugh as they journey toward trust––in God first and then of each other.”-Robin
Robin Lee Hatcher is the best-selling author of over sixty-five books. Her well-drawn characters and heartwarming stories of faith, courage, and love have earned her both critical acclaim and the devotion of readers. Her numerous awards including the Christy Award for Excellence in Christian Fiction, the RITA Award for Best Inspirational Romance, Romantic Times Career Achievement Award, the Idahope Writer of the Year, and the RWA Lifetime Achievement Award. For contact information or to learn more about Robin and her books, please visit her website at: http://www.robinleehatcher.com
Thanks, Robin, for sharing your story. Our mothers do affect us our whole lives. I’m glad you were able to be close to your mom right to the end of her life here on earth.–Lyn
For the past two days, I’ve been introducing you to my newest heroine and now we meet her hero, Noah Whitmore. Here’s a blurb about the book and then the story begins!
Their Frontier Family Excerpt
First book in Lyn Cote’s NEW “Wilderness Brides” series.
Blurb: No one is more surprised than Sunny Licht when Noah Whitmore proposes. She’s a scarlet woman and an unwed mother—an outcast even in her small Quaker m community. But she can’t resist Noah’s offer of a fresh start in a place where her scandalous past is unknown. In Sunny, the former Union soldier sees a woman whose loneliness matches his own . When they arrive in Wisconsin, he’ll see that she and her baby daughter want for nothin g…except the love that war burned out of him. Yet Sunny makes him hope once more—for the home they’re building, and the family he never hoped to find.
Chapter One Pennsylvania, 1869 “Harlot.” Sunny heard the harsh whisper across the nearly empty General Store, knowing she was meant to hear it. Her heart clenched so tightly that she thought she might pass out. Two women at the door looked at her, lifted their noses, then turned and left the store, rudely jangling the little bell above. She bowed her head, praying that she wouldn’t reveal the waves of shame coursing through her. Though she wore the plain clothing of the Quakers, a simple unruffled gray dress and bonnet, she hadn’t fooled anyone.
A male throat cleared. The storekeeper wanted her out. Could she blame him? While she shopped here, no “decent” woman would enter. She set down the bolt of blue calico she’d been admiring, hiding the trembling of her hands. Feeling as if she were moving through a cold, rushing flood, she moved toward the storekeeper. “I think that will be…all.” She opened her purse, paid for the items Mrs. Gabriel had sent her into town to purchase. Outside, she kept her head lowered and dragged up her composure around her, trying to avoid further slights as she hurried across the muddy street to the wagon. Approaching hooves sounded behind her but she didn’t look over her shoulder. Just as she reached the wagon, a man stepped out of the shadows. “Let me help you up,” he said. She backed away. This wasn’t the first time he’d approached her, and she had no trouble in identifying what he really wanted from her. “I don’t need your help. I don’t want you help.” She made her voice hard and firm. “Please do not accost me like this. I will tell Adam Gabriel….” “He’s a Quaker,” the man sneered. “Won’t do anything to me. Just tell me to seek God or something.” He managed to touch her inappropriately. She stifled a scream. Because who would come to her aid if she called for help? A prostitute–even a reformed one–had no protectors. “I’m a Quaker,” a man said from behind Sunny, “but I’ll do more than tell thee to seek God.” Sunny spun around to see Noah Whitmore, sliding off his horse. Though she’d seen him at the Quaker meeting house earlier this year, she’d never spoken to him. The man who’d accosted her took a step back. “I thought when you came back from the war, you repented and got all ‘turn the other cheek’ again.” His tone sneered at Noah too. Noah folded his arms in front of himself. “Thee ever hear the story about Samson using the jawbone of a jackass to slaughter Philistines?” Noah’s expression announced that he was in the mood to follow Samson’s example here and now. Sunny’s heart pounded. Should she speak or remain silent? The rude man began backing away. “She isn’t the first doxy the Gabriel family’s taken in to help.” The last two words taunted her. “And if she’s not like them, where’s the father of her brat? She’s not foolin’ anybody. She can dress up like a Quaker but she isn’t one. And we all know it.” Noah took a menacing step forward and the man turned and bolted between stores toward the alley. Noah removed his hat politely. “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “You have nothing to apologize for,” she whispered. “Thank you.” His pant legs were spattered with mud. He looked as if he had just now gotten back from the journey that had taken him away for the past a few months. She’d noticed his absence–after all, it was a small church. Honesty prompted her to admit that Noah had always caught her attention, right from the beginning. Noah wasn’t a truly handsome man like some gambler in a fancy vest. But he was good-looking and something about the bleak look in his eyes, the grim set of his face always tugged at her, made her want to go to him and touch his cheek. A foolish thing I could never do. “Is thee happy here?” Noah asked her. The unexpected question startled her. She struggled to find a polite reply. He waved a hand as if wiping the question off a chalkboard. She was relieved. “Happy” was a word she rarely thought of in connection with her life. What had just happened to her here had once more cut up her fragile peace. She forced down the emotions bubbling up, churning inside her. She knew that Mrs. Gabriel sent her to town as a little change in the everyday routine of the farm, a boon, not an ordeal. I should tell her how it always is for me in town. But Sunny hadn’t been able to bring herself to speak of the insults, snubs, and liberties she faced during each trip to town, not to the sweet unsullied Quaker woman, Constance Gabriel. The woman who’d taken her in just before Christmas last year and treated her like a daughter. Sunny then realized that Noah was waiting to help her up into the wagon and that she hadn’t answered his question. “Oh!” She hastily offered him her hand. “Yes, the Gabriel’s have been very good to me.” Two women halted on the boardwalk and stared at the two of them with searing intensity and disapproval. Sunny felt herself blush. “I better go. Mrs. Gabriel will be wondering where I am,” Sunny said. Noah frowned but then courteously helped her up onto the wagon seat. “If thee doesn’t mind since I’m going thy way, I’ll ride alongside thee.” What could she say? He wasn’t a child. He must know what associating with her would cost him socially. She slapped the reins and the wagon started forward. Noah swung up into his saddle and caught up to her. Behind them, both women made loud huffing sounds of disapproval. “Don’t let them bother thee,” Noah said, leaning so she could hear his low voice. “People around here don’t think much of Quakers. We’re misfits.” Sunny wondered if he might be partially right. Though she was sure the women were judging her, maybe they were judging him too. Certainly Quakers dressed, talked and believed differently than any people she’d ever met before. She recalled now what she’d heard before, that Noah had gone to war. For some reason this had grieved his family and his church. Without planning to, this slipped out–“You went to war.” His mouth became a hard line. “Yes, I went to war.” She’d said the wrong thing. “But you’re home now.” “Physically.” She didn’t know what to say to this terse reply so she fell silent. Twice wagons passed hers as she rode beside a pensive Noah Whitmore on the main road. The people in the wagons gawked at seeing the two of them together. Several times along the way, she thought Noah was going to say more to her, but he didn’t. He looked troubled too. She wanted to ask him what was bothering him, but she didn’t feel comfortable speaking to him like a friend. Except for the Gabriel’s she had no friends here. Finally when she could stand the silence no longer, she said, “You’ve been away.” He could take that as a question or a comment and treat it anyway he wanted. “I’ve been searching for a place of my own. I plan to homestead in Wisconsin.” His reply unsettled her further. Why she couldn’t say or even think why. “I see.” “Has thee ever thought about leaving here?” “Where would I go?” she said without waiting to think about how she should reply. He nodded. “That’s what I thought.” And what would I do? She had no way to support herself except to go back to the saloon. Sudden revulsion gagged her. Did those women in town think she’d chosen to be a prostitute? Did they think her mother had chosen to be one? A saloon was where a woman went when she had nowhere else to go. It wasn’t a choice; it was a life sentence. Then they reached the lane to Noah’s family’s farm. “Sunny, I’ll leave thee here.” He pulled at the brim of his hat. “Thanks for thy company. After weeks alone, it was nice to speak to thee.” We didn’t say much. But Sunny smiled and nodded, her tongue tied by his kindness and politeness. And more importantly, he’d been polite to her in public. At the saloon, men were often polite but only in the saloon. Outside, they didn’t even look at her, the lowest of the low. With a wave, Noah rode down the lane. Sunny drove on, still in turmoil. A mile from home she stopped the wagon and bent her head, praying for self-control. If she appeared upset, she would have to explain the cause of her distress to Constance Gabriel. And she didn’t want to do that. She owed the Gabriel family much. In Idaho territory, she’d met Mercy Gabriel M.D., the eldest Gabriel daughter. Dr. Mercy had delivered Sunny’s baby last year and then made the arrangements for Sunny to come here to her parents and try for a new start. “I have to get away from here. Start fresh.” Without warning, the words she’d long held back were spoken aloud into the quiet daylight. But she had no plan. No place to go. No way to earn a living–except the way she had in the past–on her back. She choked back a sob, not for herself, but for her daughter. What if the type of public humiliation she’d suffered today happened a few years from now when her baby girl could understand what was being said about her mother? Noah’s questions came back to her. What am I going to do? # Feeling like a counterfeit, Sunny perched on the backless bench in the quiet Quaker meeting for another Sunday morning of worship she didn’t understand. She sat near the back on the women’s side beside her Constance Gabriel, who had taught Sunny to be still here and let the Inner Light lead her. But how did that feel? Was she supposed to be feeling something, something besides bone-aching hopelessness? What was she going to do to move forward, to make a life for her and her six month old baby? Little Dawn stirred in her arms and Sunny patted her six month old daughter, soothing her to be quiet. I’ve brought this shame upon my daughter as surely as my mother brought it onto me. She pushed the tormenting thought back, rocking slightly on the hard bench not just to comfort Dawn, but herself as well. The door behind her opened, the sound magnified by the silence within. Even the devout turned their heads to glimpse who’d broken their peace. He came. Awareness whispered through Sunny. Noah Whitmore stalked to the men’s side and sat down near, but still a bit apart from his father and five older brothers. Today he was wearing his Sunday best like everyone else. His expression was stormy, determined. Dawn woke in her arms and yawned. She was a sweet-tempered child, and as pretty as anything with reddish blond hair and big blue eyes. As Sunny smiled down at her, an old, heartbreaking thought stung her. I don’t even know who your father is. Sunny closed her eyes and absorbed the full weight of her wretchedness, thankful no one could hear what was in her mind. Noah Whitmore rose. This was not uncommon. The Quaker worship consisted of people rising to recite scripture, discuss it or to quote scripture. However, in her time here, Noah had never risen. The stillness around Sunny became alert, sharp. Everyone looked at him. Unaccountably reluctant to meet his gaze, she lowered her eyes. “You all know that I’ve been away,” Noah said, his voice growing firmer with each word. The congregation palpably absorbed this unexpected, unconventional announcement. In any other church, whispering might have broken out. Here though only shuttered glances and even keener concentration followed. Sunny looked up and found that Noah Whitmore was looking straight at her. His intent gaze electrified her. “I’m making this announcement because I’ve staked a homestead claim in Wisconsin but must accumulate what’s necessary and return there while there is still time to put in a crop.” Still focusing on her, he paused and his jaw worked. “And I need a wife, want a wife, have chosen a wife.” A wife? Sunny sensed the conspicuous yet silent reaction Noah’s announcement was garnering. And the fact that since Noah was staring at her, everyone was now studying her too. He couldn’t… No, he– “Adam Gabriel,” Noah said, his voice suddenly gruffer, “I want to ask for thy foster daughter Sunny’s hand in marriage. And I want us to be married now, here, today.”
I loved writing Sunny’s story.
When I finished writing, Her Healing Ways, the last in my Gabriel Sisters series, Sunny’s character just wouldn’t let me fail to tell her story. And then in my mind, I saw her in the meetinghouse and Noah stood up and proposed. And I was off–typing as fast as I could. I hope you’ll agree with me that Sunny and Noah’s marriage of convenience story is deeply emotional and ultimately satisfying.–Lyn
