Forget Not - Part 3

Good Morning Faithful Friday Fiction Fans!
Wow! What a week this has been! It's been good and busy, or was it busy and good? Hmm, not sure. But I'll let you have a glimpse of it.

Saturday––Spent nearly all day outside working. And we weren't doing the usual "yard work" of mowing, weeding, or trimming trees. This time we were taking out half of our raised garden, moving half of Mom's flower garden which is full of bulbs and plants and moving them into part of the flower garden part into the other garden, shoveling dirt, moving railroad ties, taking down wire fences which had been stapled to the railroad ties and making the play area larger so we could built a tree fort. Then in the evening we pretended it was Sunday and ate our "Sunday supper" and watched a movie as a family.

Sunday––Church, then lunch at home since we no longer have a meal together each Sunday since we've moved on to a different church. Then in the afternoon we had my niece's 8th birthday party. We played games, ate, and did presents.

Monday––First thing in the morning I found out that my married best friend was in labor. (She and her Canadian husband are down here for two months for the birth of their baby.) Nothing ended up happening that day. I sewed, read, and wrote. Got a lot written that evening on TCR-4.

Tuesday––My friend was in labor again. Little Asa was born at 2:19 that afternoon. I sewed, edited a chapter of a book for someone, and wrote more of TCR-4.

Wednesday––Well, I was going to go visit my friend and her baby in the morning, but that didn't work, so I sewed and taught two writing classes in the afternoon. Then late that afternoon I drove the 30 minutes to the house my friend is staying at (Her twin sister was with her that day too.) and got to hold Asa and read him his first book (I am a big fan of reading to children of all ages!), visited, ate supper and then came home. No time for writing that evening.

Thursday––I had papers to grade, but I didn't do them. Instead, after sewing a little, I went outside with Mom and we shoved old cedar mulch into the back of Dad's truck from the play area. The mosquitoes swarmed me! I would rather not be one of those people who attract mosquitoes, but I am. :P We laid down new weed guard and then started putting down rubber mulch. Worked on that until lunch. In the afternoon I helped my dad load 30 more bags of mulch into his truck and then worked outside. My brother dropped all 5 kiddos off around 4:30 and they helped Papa build the tree fort. Then another friend dropped her three oldest kids off and we had 8 kids 8 and under. It was CRAZY (and fun!). :) We spent nearly the entire time outside working and playing and getting dirty and swinging and climbing. It was after 9:00 before parents came to pick them up.

Today––We clean house this morning and then . . . I don't know what we're going to do. I'm hoping to write!

So there you have my week. I told you it was busy. :) Now you can relax and enjoy this last part of

Forget Not

Part 3

    “I do not!” Carlee snapped through her tears.
    “All right, hold it,” commanded Miss Retter firmly. “Both of you take a look at that clock over there.” She pointed with her crochet hook to the old grandfather clock. As her two visitors looked at it, she went on. “That clock has been in my family for over a hundred years and it’s still working. But one time it stopped. It just wouldn’t run. It doesn’t have batteries to replace, so my grandfather took it to a watchmaker friend who took one look at the mechanics inside and said, ‘A spring is broken.’ That was it. One little tiny part of a tiny spring had broken and the clock wouldn’t run. I think you two have the same problem. If it were something large between you, you would notice and fix it, but because it is such a little thing, it has gotten overlooked and now your relationship can’t move forward. So,” she added briskly, “What are you going to do about it? Let this thing destroy something good and beautiful or follow the apostle Paul’s advice and communicate?”
    The silence of the room was only broken by the steady ticking of the grandfather clock. Tick, tick, tick, tick.
    At last Kevin turned and said softly, “I’m sorry Car, I should have listened to you instead of just shrugging it off.”
    “And I should have tried to talk about it calmly instead of getting upset and assuming you didn’t care.” Carlee had raised her head and her eyes met the dark ones on the opposite side of the couch.
    Kevin gave a short laugh. “I guess we’re not so good at communicating.”
    “Not on trifles that matter,” Carlee agreed ruefully. “I just wish we could start over.”
    “Why don’t you?” Miss Retter asked.
    Both young people looked questioningly at each and then, with a grin, Kevin stood up. “You’re right, Miss Retter. We should. Thank you for your words of wisdom and your hospitality. And you’re invited to our wedding.”
    “Kevin! Carlee exclaimed, blushing violently.
    Kevin didn’t so much as look at her, but took his coat and left the house.
    “Now where is he—?” Carlee began, rising quickly.
    “You just leave him be, Carlee Shubert. He’s doing what he should be doing, starting over. Sit back down and finish your chocolate.”
    Carlee did as she was told but still Kevin didn’t return. Rising, she said, “I’ll take the dishes to the kitchen and clean up, Miss Retter.”
    “Why thank you, Deary,” Miss Retter smiled as she watched the slender young girl move easily from the room with the loaded tray.
    Hardly had she disappeared when a knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” Miss Retter called.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Retter,” Kevin smiled. “Do you know where Carlee is?”
    “She’s in the kitchen cleaning up. Carlee!”
    “Yes?” floated back that maid’s voice.
    “Just leave those dishes. I can do them later. Your young man is here for you.”
    A moment passed and then Carlee, with flushed cheeks, appeared. “Hello,” she said somewhat shyly.
    Kevin grinned. “Hi. Want to go out for a walk with me?”
    “Through the mud?” And Carlee looked down at her dirt covered shoes. “Why not. What’s a little more dirt going to hurt?” she asked lifting a smiling face. Then she turned. “Oh, Miss Retter, we shouldn’t leave you—”
    “Nonsense!” retorted that lady from her chair. “Your young man did such a good job with that bandage that I’ll be up and about in no time. Now get along with you.”
    And so they went. Both were silent until the car had pulled out of the driveway. It was Kevin who broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Carlee. I should have listened to you. It wasn’t considerate of me to not try to understand how you felt. Will you forgive me?”
    Carlee blinked back some tears as she whispered, “Yes.” Then her voice grew a little louder as she added, “I’m sorry too, for making such a big deal out of it. Will you forgive me too?”
    “Of course I will.” and Kevin reached over and squeezed her hand. “I guess we both need to work on learning to communicate with each other.”
    Parking the car, he got out and opened the door for Carlee. “Come on,” he said, “I think we should take the path to our tree. And if the mud is too deep in places I’ll either carry you across it or lay my coat down for you to walk on.”
    At that Carlee laughed. It was the first bright, free laugh she had had for days and to Kevin’s ears it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.
    This time, the walk along the half frozen pond was full of light talk as Kevin helped “his girl” as Miss Retter had called her, over mud puddles and a few fallen branches. Though the air was cold and the wind that blew now and then was bitter, neither one noticed it.
    At last the object of their walk was reached, an old tree with their initials carved in it. Carlee looked about them with a smile of contentment. All was quiet. The low clouds had obscured the sun’s rays and gave the feeling of dusk out in the woods. When she turned to Kevin, who hadn’t said a word, she discovered him looking at her with a new light in his eyes.
    “What?” she asked.
    Instead of replying right away, Kevin dropped down on one knee before her and took her hand. “Carlee, I don’t deserve to ask you this after the way I’ve treated you these past few weeks, but we’ve forgiven each other and I must know, will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Kevin Worstell?”
    For a moment, Carlee could only stare. Never had she dreamed that he might propose this afternoon! And she had been cross with him! Oh, he was so sweet and true. He had been the first to admit he was wrong, he had apologized, he had helped Miss Retter, and been the first to take her hint about starting over. Would she marry him? With a sudden start, and flushing cheeks, she realized that he was still waiting for his answer. “Of course I will!” she exclaimed. “If you want me.”
    “Want you? Car!” Kevin looked almost reproachfully at her as with one hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. This he opened and held it out for her to see.
    “Oh, Kevin!” Carlee could only gasp.
    With tender hands, Kevin slipped the beautiful ring onto Carlee’s finger. “It’s official now, you’ve been branded as mine.”
    Carlee couldn’t reply, but her happy smile and the teary eyes which were fastened not on her new ring, but on “her guy’s” face, was all the answer Kevin needed.
    Standing up, he reached into another pocket and said, pulling out his pocket knife, “I think we need to add something to this tree.”
    Silently watching, Carlee wondered if he’d carve the date on the tree under their initials. But no, instead he painstakingly carved: “But to do good and to communicate forget not.”
    “I think this should be our verse together, Carlee,” Kevin remarked quietly when he had finally finished the last letter.”
    Carlee gave a deep sigh and nodded. After tucking her hand with its new precious ring through Kevin’s arm, she whispered, “And may we never forget this day.”
    Bowing their heads, the young couple prayed together asking for strength and courage to never forget to communicate.

Did you like it?

Do you ever have the same problem Carlee and Kevin had?

Will you be back next week for "Dr. Morgan"?

Forget Not - Part 2

Good Morning Friday Fiction Fans,
I hope you are enjoying some lovely tastes of fall. The weather has been cooler this week, but the mosquitoes are so bad we hardly dare go outside! I'll be glad when we hit a really cold spell and those pesky, villainous creatures die.

I have gotten more writing on TCR-4 done this week, but not as much as I had hoped. But I am over half way done and I have a rough plan for the rest of the book. Of course I'm not sure just when I'll have to wrap things up since I don't know how long different events will take, but I have two places I can stop. If I have to end the book sooner, then I can save the other parts for a Book 5. :) You wouldn't mind, would you?

This week I've been doing a bit of sewing, which you might know, is not a favorite activity. But I'm sewing bags this time so I really don't mind. My sister had boxes of denim scraps from sewing projects she had done for people, so we decided to turn those scraps into bags. They are the "ragged" bags and are pretty cute. We will try to sell them at a "Farm Girls Fest" next month.

I hope you all enjoy this next part of

Forget Not

Part 2

 Last week . . .
Thank you. Oh, Carlee?”
    Carlee turned in the doorway.
    “If you want to use more of the china dishes, you just go right ahead.”
    The young lady nodded and gave a slight smile. “Poor Miss Retter,” she thought. “She’s lonely and there’s no one to do special things for her. I’ll just make a tea party for her. I’d much rather do that than go someplace and have another argument with Kevin.” And she busied herself with china dishes, cookies, and hot chocolate.
    Back in the living room, Kevin, having taken off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair where Carlee had flung hers, asked, “Miss Retter, do you have a first-aid kit around here somewhere so that ankle can be taken care of?”
    “Oh my, yes. I forgot about it. Over in the right hand closet in the hall; it’s on the middle shelf. Did you find it?”
    “Sure did. Now let me see if we can get your shoe off.”
    “Are you a doctor?” Miss Retter inquired in astonishment as her shoe was taken off with capable hands and her visitor began to gently massage the injured ankle before bandaging it.
    “No, just a rancher. But we have to know how to take care of all kinds of things. It’s not the first time I’ve treated a sprained ankle.”
    “You sure know how to do it well. I declare, that feels much better all ready.” Miss Retter smiled as, her ankle firmly bandaged, a footstool was placed before her chair with a cushion for her injured limb. “Now, do sit down - Kevin, isn’t it? Carlee has told me quite a bit about you though I haven’t seen her for a few weeks. Oh, do you suppose you should go out and help her in the kitchen?”
    From the couch where he had seated himself, Kevin shook his head. “No, I’m sure she doesn’t want to see me now. I’d only get in her way,” he added hastily as a questioning look flashed across Miss Retter’s face. “I’m not much good messing around with china and dainty things like that.”
    “More at home with a grill and steaks or a pot of stew?”
    Kevin laughed. It was his first laugh all day and it felt good. “That’s it. I’m rather a clumsy chap with breakable things.”
    “How are you with hearts?”
    “Ma’am?” Kevin looked startled and flushed.
    “Human hearts are breakable too, especially a woman’s heart. I know for I am one. They must be handled with care, Kevin.”
    There was no time for Kevin to make a reply for Carlee entered the room a moment later bearing a tray loaded with a silver tea pot, three china cups and saucers and a plate of chocolate-chip cookies. This was carefully set down on the coffee table and Carlee began pouring steaming cocoa into the cups.
    “Here, Miss Retter,” she said, handing a cup to the older woman and then offering the plate of cookies.
    “Why Carlee, this is quite delightful. I haven’t had anyone over for tea or chocolate in ages! Now you just sit down there on the couch with your suitor and join us.”
    Carlee did as she was requested but didn’t give an adoring glance at Kevin as Miss Retter expected. She simply poured him a cup of cocoa and then one for herself before settling in a corner of the couch.
    Silence fell on the trio for a full five minutes until the old, ornate, grandfather clock chimed the hour of two.
    “I suppose we should go,” Carlee suggested drearily.
    “Nonsense!” Miss Retter chided. “We haven’t visited yet and neither one of you has finished your chocolate. Besides,” she added briskly, “I want to know what the trouble is between you two. Oh, don’t try to tell me there’s no trouble, Carlee. Don’t forget I’ve known you since you were five-years-old. And I may be an old maid, but I’ve been around long enough to know when young folks have problems. Now,” Miss Retter set her cup down on the table beside her, picked up her crocheting and nodded. “Which of you is going to begin?”
    Kevin glanced at the girl whose heart he had worked so hard to win. What was wrong? He wasn’t quite sure he knew except in a general way.
    Keeping her eyes on her cup of chocolate, Carlee frowned. Did she dare tell Miss Retter about their quarrel?
    “Come on, one of you had better get to talking,” Miss Retter ordered briskly. “I’ll keep you here all night if you don’t up and out with it, as my brother and I used to say when we were small.”
    “He just doesn’t care about how I feel!” Carlee burst forth with feeling.
    “How you feel about what?” Kevin demanded.
    “Everything!” she retorted. “Ever since that day when—”
    “Oh, not that again!”
    “If you’d just get off your high horse and listen to my feelings for once maybe we could drop it, but no, your way is the only way and—”
    Kevin interrupted her. “Good grief, Car. That was almost three weeks ago! Can’t you get over it?”
    “Get over it?” Carlee placed her unfinished cup down, tucked her legs under her and crossed her arms. “How can I when you won’t apologize or admit that you might be wrong! It’s probably a good thing we aren’t engaged.”
    “Why?” Kevin sat up straight and stared at the girl beside him.
    Carlee’s voice sank to almost a whisper. “So it won’t cause a commotion when we break up.”
    “What!” It was almost a shout and Carlee hid her face in the back of the couch to avoid the eyes that stared at her.
    “Now wait a minute you two,” Miss Retter put in before another word could be said by either of her guests. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about, but I do know a solution besides breaking up. That would only fix the outside, but not the real hurt. Kevin, could you hand me that Bible beside you?”
    It was silently handed over.
    Turning the leaves of the well worn book, Miss Retter went on, “You are both followers of Christ, are you not?”
    Both heads nodded.
    “Then listen to this verse in Hebrews. ‘But to do good and communicate forget not.’” Miss Retter looked up with a smile. “It sounds to me as though you two haven’t communicated enough.”
    “How can I when he won’t listen to me?” Carlee sniffed.
    “I’ve listened to you, Car, but you never listen to me,” argued Kevin. “All you do is complain when I mention it.”
    “I do not!” Carlee snapped through her tears.

What will happen?

Have you ever needed to communicate?

Will you be back for the last part next week?

Forget Not - Part 1

Good Morning FFFs!
It's a lovely, chilly morning here. Cloudy, a cool breeze from the north and the sounds and feelings of fall are just delighting me. The other day the crows were having a fit because a red tailed hawk was riding on the breeze over our neighborhood.

My week has been productive. :) I'm delighted with everything I have been able to get done or worked on. I've been feeling behind for months and now I'm finally starting to feel as though perhaps I can catch up on things and make progress on my "to do" list.

One of the things I've gotten a good bit done on, is writing. And yes, I've been working on TCR-4. Monday was the best writing day with Tuesday coming in a close second. Wednesday I was able to get a little written while teaching a writing class. :) (I know, you are probably wondering what kind of a teacher I am! My two students were each writing a short story themselves, so instead of just sitting around staring at them or the clock for 20 minutes, I figured I might as well write too. :) ) Last night I got a good bit written. That will probably be it for this week though, since tonight my grandparents will be down and we'll have a birthday party for my niece, "Pickle Puss," who is going to turn 8 next week!!!!! Then tomorrow we're all (my brother's family, grandparents and us) going to a State Park for a special day they are having.

I thought of giving you a Dr. Morgan today, but I don't know what I haven't posted and my notebook is elsewhere, so you'll have to settle for this story. I'm not sure if you'll all enjoy it, but I hope you will tell me what you think. :) I promise though, that I will give you a Dr. Morgan after this story is over. :) If you can wait.

Forget Not

Part 1

    The pond had a thin skin of ice on it, thick enough for a few geese to walk on, but certainly not strong enough for anything heavier. On the other side snow could still be seen on the slopes under the dark, bare trees. It was a grey day in February, a cold, dreary, miserable day. The kind of day no one really wants to be outside. It was just above the freezing point so the ground was sloppy and mud clung to shoes in an aggravating way.
    Carlee Schubert frowned as she tried to avoid the muddiest places along the water. “Slow down, Kevin.”
    “You should have worn boots instead of tennis shoes,” the young man retorted, stopping to wait.
    “I don’t have any. And it’s cold out here, and I would rather be home!”
    “Fine. I thought we’d go to our place and talk, but if you want to go back, we’ll go back.”
    “You don’t have to be cross about it,” the girl snapped.
    “Who’s cross? You’re the one who’s been complaining ever since you stepped outside. You didn’t have to come with me, you know.”
    The short, auburn curls quivered in indignation while the blue eyes sparked. “Of course it’s all my fault! Now I won’t go back!” And with the perversity of women, Carlee stomped forward.
    “Well, good grief, Car, make up your mind!”
    “I have! Now are you coming?”
    Kevin rolled his eyes and followed. He didn’t know what was wrong or rather, he didn’t know when it had started. “It seems like all the days are like this now,” he muttered. “Cold and gloomy.”
    “What did you say?”
    “I was talking to myself.”
    “What were you saying about me?” Carlee demanded, whirling around.
    “I said the days have been cloudy and cold.” He glanced about at the bare trees, the drab leaves and grasses, the mud and the snow. “The sun hasn’t been out for a week.”
    If he expected a reply, he was disappointed, for none came, and in silence the young couple trudged forward along the edge of the pond.
    A sudden sharp cry from across the water caused both heads to turn swiftly. The blue figure of someone tumbling and sliding down the hill towards the pond and stopped only by crashing into a tree galvanized Kevin into action. With incredible speed, considering the muddy terrain he had to cross, he sped along the pond’s edge towards the motionless figure while Carlee flew after him, not noticing that her shoes were becoming covered in mud.
    Arriving breathless as Kevin knelt beside the fallen form, she gasped, “Is she hurt? Who is she?”
    “I don’t know. I think she’s unconscious, but her pulse is strong.”
    “I— I’m all right,” a faint voice replied. “I just had the breath . . . knocked out . . . of me.” Pushing herself up on one elbow and pulling her scarf away from her face, the woman asked, “Who are you?” as she gazed at Kevin’s face.
    “Kevin Worstell.”
    “Oh, you’re Carlee’s young man.”
    “Miss Retter?” Carlee pushed forward and knelt down in the snow beside the older woman. “Should we call the ambulance?”
    “What for, Dear? I’ve got my wind back. Now if you’ll just help me up, I think I can make it home all right.”
    But when they lifted her, Miss Retter moaned and leaned heavily on Kevin. “Oh dear. I’m afraid I turned my ankle. Carlee, see if you can’t find me a stout stick while I hang on to your guy for support. Then I can make my way home.”
    “Nonsense,” Kevin broke in. “My car is just over that rise. We can get you there and then can drive you to a doctor.”
    Miss Retter smiled. “That is very thoughtful of you, but I don’t need a doctor if I can just get home.”
    Though Carlee searched for a stout stick, none were to be found and she came back looking worried. “I can’t find one.”
    Miss Retter smiled. “Don’t worry, Dear, I’ll just use this strong arm for a crutch and hobble along. You won’t mind sharing him with me for just a little while, will you?”
    Carlee shook her head.
    However, when Miss Retter tried to put the slightest weight on her injured ankle, an involuntary cry of pain caused Kevin to suddenly stoop and lift her as though she were a child. “I’ll just carry you. We’ll go faster that way.”
    “But I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” protested Miss Retter.
    It was Carlee who answered. “He’s a rancher from Oklahoma, Miss Retter. He’s used to roping cows, and toting hay bales. I doubt he’ll even notice.”
    Not another word was spoken until the car was reached and all were in. “Where to now?” Kevin turned in the driver’s seat and looked back at Miss Retter who had insisted on riding in the back.
    “If you’ll just be kind enough to drive me to my home, I’d be much obliged. I know it’s not broken and I’ll just wrap it up and put ice on it. I’m sure it will be all right in a day or so.”
    Kevin nodded and started the car; he knew she was referring to her ankle and not her house. Carlee remained silent as Miss Retter gave Kevin directions to her house. This they reached in a few minutes and Kevin got out to assist Miss Retter.
    “Carlee, won’t you come in too, Dear?” Miss Retter asked. “I baked some cookies this morning and I’d like to get to know your young man.”
    With a silent nod, Carlee climbed out of the car, took the house key from Miss Retter and unlocked her front door.
    Once set down in her favorite chair near the window, Miss Retter smiled brightly. “It isn’t very often that I have visitors on such a dreary day. Carlee, won’t you go and get the cookies? Use one of the pink and white china plates, Dear. And won’t you put the kettle on so we can have hot chocolate? Thank you. Oh, Carlee?”
    Carlee turned in the doorway.

What do you think is going on?

Will you be back next week for the next part?

This story is only three weeks long.

Being Decisive - Part 5

Hello Friday Fiction Fans!
I'm having a hard time believing it could be Friday, but I'll post anyway. :)

My week has been busy. I've had three evening of writing and have gotten some done. Not as much as I would have liked, but at least it was something. I've also done a lot of trying to catch up on things and working on odds & ends that just hadn't gotten done.
 Last night we were babysitting the kiddos. Actually we had them all morning too. But they went home to take naps and didn't return until about 5:30 or so. Tonight we have a wedding to go to, but maybe I can write Saturday night. I have lots of ideas for the 4th TCR book, but I either get stuck in little places or I don't have time to write. I'm going to try to do better. You all can pray I have time and that the story moves along. Would you all like TCR-4 by Christmas? I'm not promising anything, but I might be more motivated with more feedback. :)

Well, this is the last part of Being Decisive. I think I'll post "Forget Not" next week. Well, I'll at least start it next week. :) Perhaps in the midst of writing TCR-4 I can get a few other short stories written that are just waiting for me. I always have several stories going at once, at least in my brain. :P I know, I'm strange. But I don't like to have more than one book started that I'm reading. Go figure.

And here is the last and final part! Enjoy!

Being Decisive

Part 5

Mel’s aunt and uncle were there waiting, and Dick was swiftly transferred from the truck to the car in the midst of a babble of words from the excited younger girls, calm, direct instructions and replies from the older boys, and soothing ones from Cath and Aunt Mary.
    During the confusion, Mel managed to slip unnoticed from the truck and hobble up the steps and into the kitchen. Dropping into the first chair she came to, she leaned her tired, aching head on her arms and gave a little whimper. She wanted to go up to bed, but the pain in her feet made her delay just a little longer. The noise outside died down and then the sound of boots on the porch was heard. How Mel wanted to go hide right then! If it hadn’t been for her, no one would have gotten hurt. Oh, why had she agreed to go to Lookout Rock?
    “Mel?”
    Reluctantly, tiredly, Melody lifted her head though her eyes remained lowered. “I . . . I . . . I’m sorry,” she stammered and then bit her lip in an attempt to keep back her tears lest her cousins think her a baby.
    “Sorry?” Don exclaimed. “Sorry for what?”
    And Cath added, as she knelt down beside her cousin, “You saved Dick’s life, Mel. If you hadn’t gone to him and stayed with him, he probably would have tried to move and would have fallen again.”
    “I still don’t know how you managed to climb that cliff, though,” Tom put in.
    Mel shrugged, and winced from pain. “I just had to do it.”
    “You were decisive when it counted,” Cath whispered.
    Gently Tom turned her hands over and looked at the raw palms. “Next time you try climbing a cliff, wear some gloves,” he teased with a smile, drawing up a chair as Don set a bowl of warm water down next to a first aid box. “Now let’s get them taken care of and then we’ll have a look at your feet.”
    Mel did her best not to cry as her cousins washed her cut hands and bandaged them, though they stung and smarted. Looking at her bound hands, she wondered how she was going to be able to do any of her assigned chores. It seemed impossible to hold anything right then.
    “Did you climb with your socks on, Mel?” Tom asked, scooting his chair farther back and looking down at her stocking feet.
    “No, but—” she added quickly as Don brought the bowl with fresh water back and sat down. “Could you please not do anything to my feet yet?”
    Don looked up quickly. “Why?”
    Mel shifted in her seat and hesitated. Her cousins waited in patient silence. “They don’t hurt too much right now if nothing touches them and I don’t move them. Please!” she begged, not sure she could keep back the tears if there was more pain.
    Slowly Tom shook his head. “Sorry, Mel,” he apologized, “but if your feet are anything like your hands, the sooner they are taken care of the better it will be. If you didn’t climb in your socks, when did you put them on?”
    “As you came down.” The reply was half whispered and Melody pressed her lips together as her socks were gently pulled off, exposing her cut and bruised feet.
    Don couldn’t hold back a low whistle which brought Cath and Lou over to look. Liz, who couldn’t stand the sight of blood, remained on the other side of the room. “How you ever managed to keep climbing with feet like this . . .” Don shook his head and left his sentence unfinished.
    Jim arrived before the feet were bandaged and raised his eyebrows at the sight, though he only said, “Here are your boots, Mel. The horses are fine. Dad call yet?”
    It wasn’t until much later, after supper was eaten that the phone call came. Dick was going to be fine. He had a broken leg, as Tom had suspected, but, because Melody had reached him quickly and had kept him quiet until help arrived, it wasn’t made worse by moving.
    Melody went to bed that night feeling much relieved by the good news, but the pain in her hands and feet kept her awake for quite a while. She was still awake when a car drove down the driveway. Sitting up in bed, she listened. Yes, it was her aunt and uncle bringing Dick home. With a sudden longing to see for herself that Dick was going to be okay, Melody managed to limp out into the upper hall. There she sat down at the top of the stairs and peered through the banisters.
    Moments later her uncle came in carrying Dick, followed by Aunt Mary. Don and Cath, who were the only ones who had waited up, said a few low words to Dick before he was borne upstairs. Melody knew she wouldn’t be able to slip back to her room before she was noticed, so she remained where she was.
    “Why, Mel,” her aunt said softly, “I thought you would be in bed.”
    “I just wanted to see that Dick really was . . .” her voice faltered as her eyes rested on the doorway into which her uncle had just disappeared.
    Aunt Mary must have understood for she patted Mel’s shoulder and whispered, “I’ll be back just as soon as I make sure Dicky is settled for the night.”
    A sob welled up inside her and suddenly all the tears she had been holding back began to trickle down her cheeks, and when her aunt and uncle returned, Mel was shaking with half suppressed sobs. Without a word Uncle John lifted her and carried her down to the living room. In the tender embrace of her aunt, Melody cried as she had rarely cried before. All the fear, self-reproach and anxiety she had held in check for so many hours, poured forth, and it was some time before her tears could be checked. At last, however, her sobs lessoned, and she leaned, exhausted against her aunt.
    “Mel,” Uncle John said, taking one of her bandaged hands in his, “your quick thinking and the swiftness with which you acted saved Dick’s life today. Thank you.”

    It was several days before Melody could walk about with comfort, and a full week before her uncle would allow her to return to all her chores. But Mel was happy. She felt that Don and Cath fully approved of her. Dick was getting well and she knew that she could be decisive when an emergency arose. When it came to the small things, however, she still couldn’t make up her mind.

Have you ever felt like Mel?

What did you think of the story?

Any other character qualities I should write about?

Let me know!

Being Decisive - Part 4

Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,
Okay, I know I'm later at getting this posted than usual, but I'm on vacation! :)
It has been a good week here at my grandparents' house. We washed windows at my aunt's house nearly all day Tuesday, I helped move a bed from an upstairs room into the dining room after Grandpa and I had cleared everything out of the dining room except the china cabinet (This was for a friend of my grandparents.),  I made a fall wreath for another friend of Grandma's who had been asking when I would be there to do it (I had made her one before.), I relaxed and lounged around, slept in, went out to eat with Grandma, Mom, and S, (Grandpa was gone.), and have enjoyed my time. 

Writing? What's that? :P I really haven't gotten much written since the last time I posted. Sorry. And I won't get anything written the rest of this week either. We are heading home this afternoon and then this evening my Heart-Sister comes down and will be here nearly all day tomorrow. But, I am hoping to get back into writing next week.

So, until then, enjoy this next part of 

Being Decisive

Part 4

 Last week . . .
"Come on now. That’s right.” As she scooted back away from the edge.
    She wasn’t sure she really wanted to go up first. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to face Don and Cath. They’d probably never trust her again.
    Tom was talking again. “There, that’ll hold. Now stand up.”
    Stand up? Was he crazy? She couldn’t stand up on that ledge! Why she’d probably get so dizzy she’d fall.
    “Come on, Mel,” Tom urged quietly. “Everything is going to be okay. Don’t think about where you are. You won’t fall. Grab a hold of the rope and look up.”
    Somehow, she was never quite sure how, Mel managed to stand, though she trembled and her legs shook. It was one thing to climb up the cliff because you had to and you didn’t have time to think, but to stand up on the ledge after you have had a long time to fully realize where you were was something else.
    “Why, where in the world are your boots?” Tom asked in astonishment, realizing his cousin was only wearing socks.
    “At the bottom of the cliff,” Mel whispered.
    Tom didn’t say anything else to her, but hollered up that Mel was ready.
    The rough rope on her already raw hands almost made her cry out in pain as she was slowly drawn upwards. By keeping her eyes shut tightly, Melody tried to pretend she was being pulled into the hayloft of the barn. After what seemed like hours, she felt strong hands grasp her and pull her onto something solid.
    “Thank God you were decisive, Mel,” Don said softly as he quickly untied the rope from around her.
    “Oh, Mel!” Lou flung herself at her cousin and burst into tears while Liz hugged her without a word.
    “Come on, girls,” Cath directed calmly, though Mel thought she heard a tremor in her voice. “Let’s get Mel away from the edge and let her have a drink. Mel, you’re shaking. Are you cold?”
    Mel shook her head and sank to the ground. “I don’t know.” Eagerly she took the canteen, though her hands shook. Never had water tasted so good as it did then! At last, with a long, shuddering sigh, she let Cath take the canteen back. Lou still clung to her and Liz tried to tell her about the wild ride back to the ranch, but Mel didn’t hear much of it. She was too exhausted.
    Afterwards, Mel was never quite sure how the boys got Dick to the top of the cliff, but at last he was there and being placed on a hand-made stretcher. Feeling in a daze, she watched as Tom and Jim each took an end and started down the trail with Cath close beside.
    Vaguely she wondered where the others were and how late it was. Into her thoughts came Don’s voice.
    “Come on, Mel.”
    She looked up to see Don’s hand held out as though to help her up. Wishing her hands didn’t hurt so much, she offered one, but to her surprise, instead of gripping it to pull her to her feet, he turned it over and looked at it before holding out his other hand.
    “Let’s see the other one,” was all he said. After looking them over, he asked, “Where are your boots?”
    “At the bottom of the cliff. I couldn’t climb in them. Should I go get them?”
    Don gave a slight snort and shook his head. “Hardly. Jim can pick them up when he takes the horses back.” Then, without another word, he stooped and lifted her in his strong arms.
    “I . . . I think I can walk,” she stammered, not feeling at all sure of her claim.
    “Nope.” Don’s answer was quick, as he set off with his long, steady strides down the path after the others. Mel didn’t argue, but let her head rest on the broad shoulder of her cousin. It was wonderful to feel safe again.
    When they reached the horses, Liz and Lou mounted and Don helped Mel into the saddle of her horse. “You don’t have to worry about guiding him at all,” he told her. “Jim is going to bring the horses in as soon as we reach the truck and he’ll lead yours now.” As he talked, Don had unstrapped a blanket from the back of Mel’s horse and had put it around her. “Wind’s a bit chilly,” he remarked quietly.
    Mel didn’t protest. In fact, the arrangement was just fine with her, for though she loved riding, her feet and hands hurt badly and she felt rather lightheaded. The warmth of the blanket made her realize just how chilled she must have gotten sitting still in the shade for so long. Or was it the excitement?
    The slow ride down to where the truck was parked always seemed rather hazy in Mel’s memory. Several times a hand touched her and Jim’s quiet voice said, “Mel, are you all right?” Each time she nodded and wondered why he had asked.
    Upon reaching the truck, Mel remained seated on her horse and watched as Dick’s stretcher was carefully loaded in the back and Tom and Cath climbed up beside it. When she noticed Liz and Lou had dismounted and were climbing into the back, Mel wondered if she should follow them. Before she could do more than feel around for the stirrup with one aching foot, Don was beside her.
    “Here, I’ll carry you to the truck. You shouldn’t be walking on these rocks without shoes on.”
    “How’s Dick?” she whispered anxiously.
    “I think he’ll be all right though his leg appears broken,” was the reassuring answer. Don set her gently on the front seat of the truck. When she insisted she could ride in the back, he replied, “It’d be too crowded. Stay here.” And he shut the door. Moments later they were on their way to the house.

    There was a blur of activity when the truck pulled up before the ranch house. Mel’s aunt and uncle were there waiting, and Dick was swiftly transferred from the truck to the car in the midst of a babble of words from the excited younger girls, calm, direct instructions and replies from the older boys, and soothing ones from Cath and Aunt Mary.

 You have one more part, will you be back?

What did you think of this part?

Being Decisive - Part 3

Well, my computer says it's Friday, so I suppose I should post. :)
My week has been crazy and busy and I am so mixed up on what day it is that I called my friend on Wednesday evening thinking it was Thursday. Then yesterday I did something that I usually only do when it is not Thursday. And we babysat the kiddos on Wednesday evening and Tuesday evening (well, I was only here part of the time then since I had a political meeting to attend) instead of Friday, and I am so confused!

Well, this has not been a good week for writing TCR-4. I did write Sunday and Monday and then . . . nothing. So sorry. Maybe I can write tonight. I think I told you all last week that I was a quarter of the way done with book 4. If so, that is just an example of what my brain can do with numbers. ;) I'm actually a little over 1/3 of the way done. Does that sound better?

Oh, here is my other news. How would you like to listen to a professional read my book "Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay and Other Stories"? You are going to get your chance because right now it is being recorded! :) I put my first four books up on ACX (Audiobook Creation Exchange) last week and on Saturday someone auditioned to read "Pirates." She did a wonderful job with the sample part and was looking forward to recording the rest. I'll be sure to keep you informed about the progress. And I'm still waiting for auditions for the other books. Wouldn't it be fun to get to listen to these books on audio? Do you listen to many audio books? I grew up listening and I still love it.

But here is the next part of 

Being Decisive

Part 3

Last week . . .
"Lou,” she told the silent, frightened girl who was clinging to her hand, “you have to be brave and help Liz keep Dick from moving. When she goes for help, you sit still up here and talk to us, okay?”
    Lou nodded.
    “And pray, girls,” Mel said, standing up and pulling her hand away from her cousin’s grasp. “Hang on Dicky,” she shouted down. “I’m going to come to you and then I’ll tell you a story.” Without waiting to hear if Dick would reply, Mel had begun to move toward the trees. The hillside was steeper than she thought but she didn’t care. Half running, half sliding from tree to tree, she made her breathless way down and at last reached flat ground. Here she had to push her way through a tangle of brambles before reaching the open. Once there she could see the cliff side.
    “Help me, dear Lord,” she panted, running along with eyes open, looking for the best place to climb up. At last, reaching a place that seemed most likely, she started up. But she had only gotten a short ways before her feet slipped.
    “I can’t climb the side of the cliff with cowboy boots on,” she muttered, jerking them off. Next her socks came off and were stuffed in her pockets. It was easier to climb after that, for she could grip rocks with her toes just as she used to climb the swing rope back home. As she climbed higher, she could hear Liz’s voice up above her. Not once did she dare to look down lest she panic. “Keep going, keep going,” she told herself each time she wanted to stop. “Dick needs you.”
    Persistently she continued upwards, unmindful of rocks which cut her hands and feet, ignoring the aching in her legs and arms as she pulled and pushed herself ever higher. Liz’s voice was growing louder and then she heard Dick’s voice. She was almost there! By this time she was breathing in gasps. “Just a little farther,” she thought. “I’m almost there!”
    It felt like months to the waiting cousins on top of the cliff who had watched the slow climb with pounding hearts, but to the climber, it seemed like years before she at last pulled herself onto the ledge with Dick. She had made it.
    “I’m here, Liz. Go!” she shouted up as soon as she could catch her breath.
    “Tell me a story,” Dick pleaded, whimpering a little as he moved his leg slightly.
    “All right, just you lie still now. Lou, can you hear me?” Mel spoke loudly.
    “Yes,” came back a tremulous voice.
    “Good, because I have a story for you and Dick. Listen up now.” And she launched into a story filled with excitement and adventure, making it up as she went along. She had told stories so often that this one just seemed to tell itself, for, while her mouth was telling the story, her mind was busy with other thoughts. How long would it be, she wondered, before help would arrive? How badly was Dick hurt? She knew almost nothing about first aid, but even she could tell he was suffering, though the gallant little figure didn’t utter one word of complaint. Why had Don left her in charge? Would her uncle or cousins ever trust her again?
    As the shadows began to lengthen, Mel began to wonder how long her voice was going to last. She was sure their canteens of water were still on their horses, but she dared not send Lou to get them. What if she were also to fall! And anyway, how would she be able to get them if Lou did bring them? No longer in the sunshine, for the sun had slipped farther to the west, Dick began to shiver. Mel didn’t know if it was shock or cold, but she pulled off the light jacket she had put on that morning and laid it over her cousin.
    Would no one ever come? What if something had happened to Liz? Oh, why had they come? Her feet and hands hurt and she was starting to feel dizzy being up so high on such a small ledge.
    Then, just when she was sure she could stand the situation no longer, she heard voices above them.
    “Listen, Dicky,” she whispered. “Someone has come.”
    “Mel! Dick!” A voice called down to them.
    “We’re right here, Don,” Mel croaked back, her voice hoarse from her long story and lack of water.
    “Just hang on a few more minutes. Tom is coming down for you.”
    “You hear that, Dicky,” Mel asked, “Tom is coming.”
    Dick nodded his head slowly and a faint whimper escaped his lips.
    Looking up, Mel saw her cousin slowly start down the side of the cliff; a rope was tied securely around him and he moved like one used to such things. She noticed he wasn’t wearing his cowboy boots, but regular shoes. This fact brought to mind her own boots lying far below and quickly pulling her socks from her pocket, she gingerly pulled them on.
    “I thought you were supposed to go to Lookout Rock, Dick,” a cheery voice said just above them. “And here you are half way down a cliff. Is the view any better here?” As he talked, Tom had reached the ledge. “Slack off the rope!” he called up.
    There wasn’t much room for three of them on the ledge and Mel wondered how Tom was going to get Dick up from such cramped space with his injured leg. She couldn’t exactly move farther over, for she was sitting on the edge now. Tom’s next words answered her thoughts but didn’t make her feel more comfortable.
    “I’m going to send Mel up first,” Tom shouted upward and began untying the rope which was around him. “All right, Mel,” he said cheerily, “scoot back just a bit so I can get this rope around you. All you’ll have to do is hold on and Don and Jim will pull you up. Come on now. That’s right.” As she scooted back away from the edge.

What would you have done in Mel's place?

Will you be back next Friday?

Would you like to listen to any of my books on audio?

Being Decisive - Part 2

And a lovely good morning to you FFFs!
The last few days have been cool enough to have the windows open again. Though we did turn the AC on yesterday afternoon. I don't know about you, but I'm starting to look forward to fall. Not that I'm in any hurry for this year to end, but . . . I just like fall. :)

This week has been a week for getting things done. I've gotten many of those small things on my "to do" list accomplished and it sure feels good. Yesterday morning I mowed the yard. It was in need of it and it was cool out. Why is it that a freshly mowed yard looks cooler than one which needs mowed?

Writing update. Yes, I have written! In fact, last night I reached the quarter mark on TCR-4! It's always exciting when I reach this point. And this book reached it at a good part. I'm also starting to get a few ideas for a possible book 5. Would you like five books in the series?

I've been thinking of what to write for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Any ideas? If you come up with an idea, or create a first line for a story, let me know. Should I post a Thanksgiving story? I know if I can write one, I'll post a Christmas story in December. I just don't know what about.

But now that I'm done rambling, I'll let you read the next part of

Being Decisive

Part 2

Last week . . .
    At that a cry of dismay arose from Dick and Lou. “We don’t want to go back yet!
    “And we haven’t gotten to show Mel Lookout Rock.”
    “Oh, do we have to go back now?”
    “Please let us stay longer, Don!”
    Don looked at Cath questioningly but spoke to his youngest siblings. “I can’t let just the two of you stay here—” he began.
    “But Mel will be with us,” Lou pointed out.
    “And I could stay too, couldn’t I, Cath?” Liz asked, her eyes pleading silently with her older sister.
    “Well . . . All right,” Don consented as Cath nodded. “But—” he added firmly. “Don’t stay too long. I want you all home in plenty of time before supper, and the horses are not to be taken off the trail, is that clear?”
    “Yes!” Liz, Lou and Dick exclaimed in one breath while Mel nodded, her mouth too full to talk.
    “Mel,” Don turned to his cousin, “you are the oldest, and I’m putting you in charge. You are to start back for the ranch no later than a quarter to four. Don’t let them talk you into staying one minute longer.”
    Nodding soberly, Mel looked down at her watch. A quarter to four was a long time away. They should have plenty of time to enjoy their excursion.
    Soon the oldest four, after giving many admonitions to be careful and to stay together and to keep the horses on the path, mounted up and rode off back to the ranch, leaving the youngest ones wildly excited behind.
    “Come on, Mel,” Dick called, trying to pull his cousin to her feet. “Let’s go to Lookout Rock.”
    Laughing, Mel allowed herself to be pulled up. “All right. Let’s make sure we have everything with us and then we’ll go.”
    After a hurried check, the others declared all was in order and, untying their horses, they mounted and were ready. “One of you lead the way,” Mel said, “because I don’t know where we are going.” She felt very grown up just then, knowing that she was in charge of her three younger cousins and that they were in the mountains not just back among the ranch buildings. Of course, Liz was only seven months younger than she was. She could hardly believe Don and Cath had agreed to leave them. “But I’m sure it must be perfectly safe or they wouldn’t have done it,” she thought.
    Before long Liz reined up her horse and looked back. “We’ll have to leave the horses here,” she said. “The path to Lookout Rock in just over there.” She indicated some place on her left before swinging down from the saddle.
    Rapidly the others followed her example, and soon the horses were tied to the trees which grew along the trail. Dick, eager to reach the special place first, hurried ahead of his sisters and cousin. And when Mel called after him to be careful, Lou assured her that Dick was like a mountain goat.
    Scarcely had the words died on the air when the rumble and crash of falling rocks sounded just ahead of them and then a scream! Madly the three girls rushed forward until Melody, gripping her cousins’ arms, stopped. “Wait, girls!” she cried. “We’d better be careful.”
    Cautiously the girls moved along the trail which now wound along the edge of the mountain.
    “Look!” Liz exclaimed, pointing ahead. “The rocks near the edge have slid! There must have been a rockslide since we were here last and Dick—”
    Thankfully the path widened just then and they were able to make it safely past the rockslide to solid ground. Here Melody and Elizabeth peered over the side of the cliff.
    “Dick!” they called together as they spied the boy lying on a ledge some twenty-five feet below them.
    “I’m down here,” his faint voice came back. “Help me!”
    “All right, Dicky,” Mel shouted back. “Just stay right there and don’t try to move.”
    “But I don’t want to stay here,” Dick cried. “I want to get up there.”
    “Just wait a minute, Dick,” Liz called down. “We’re going to figure out how to get you back up.” Then she turned a pale face to her cousin. “What are we going to do? Dick won’t be able to stay still down there for very long. Not by himself.”
    “Someone is going to have to ride back for help,” Mel said. “I don’t know the way, so it is going to have to be one of you.”
    Lou shook her head emphatically. “I can’t do it.”
    “I can go,” Liz said. “But how are we going to keep Dick still? If he moves too much he’ll fall again.”
    “If I could get to him, I could tell him a story,” Mel suggested hesitantly. Carefully she studied the rocky wall below her.
    “But you can’t climb down there,” Liz protested.
    “No,” Mel began slowly, “but maybe I could climb up to him.”
    “How?”
    She pointed. “See those trees over there, going down the side of the hill? I’m sure I could get down there and then once on the bottom of the cliff I could climb up. It looks like there are lots of places to step and hold on.”
    For a moment Liz looked doubtful. Something had to be done she knew, but . . .
    “We’ve got to decide—” Mel began and then stopped. Wait, she was the oldest. She had to make the decision and she had to make it quickly. The longer they delayed, the more chance they had of Dick moving too much. “I’m going to try it,” she said aloud. “Liz, stay here with Lou and keep talking to Dick until I reach him. Then get the fastest horse and ride as quickly as you can for help. Lou,” she told the silent, frightened girl who was clinging to her hand, “you have to be brave and help Liz keep Dick from moving. When she goes for help, you sit still up here and talk to us, okay?”
    Lou nodded.

Sorry, you'll have to come back next Friday.

Will you be back?

Do you like this story?

What do you think happens next?