A New Life - Part 4

Good Morning FFFs,
Life is busy. My new niece was just born Wednesday evening and her five older siblings spent Wednesday night here and almost all day yesterday. Pickle Puss was thrilled to have little sister after four brothers. This baby girl doesn't have a nickname yet as I've only seen and held her once, but don't worry, she'll get one. :) So, the last few days have been a little crazy. :)

My goal is to get 5,000 words written each week. (That equals 5 parts.) I didn't get anything written on Wednesday night, but last night I got 500 words written. If I can get the 5k written this week and next week, I'll have more than doubled the number of parts for "Dr. Morgan." :) Pretty fun, huh? Who knows, I may decide to keep working on this story and try to finish it before I start into TCR-5. What do you think? I've been so busy writing "Dr. Morgan" that I haven't gotten any other short stories written to post. I'd better get something written before too long or I won't have anything to post except "Dr. Morgan." :)

Now, I got a later start on this post than usual, so I'm going to keep it really short. I hope you enjoy this last part of . . .

A New Life

Part 4

 Last time . . .
    “Dear me, such trouble,” Mrs. Kouts shook her head. “Have you no idea where your husband might be notified? No? Well, then I see no other way but for you to pack your things and I’ll get two of my neighbors’ sons to bring them over to my rooms. Now don’t protest,” Mrs. Kouts ordered. “You are in no condition to even look for a new place right now and you certainly won’t be able to do much work in a short time. I’ve always thought I would enjoy a companion and you can help me with my sewing until you find a new place or your husband returns. Besides,” she added. “You wouldn’t want to be far away where Mr. McKinley couldn’t find you.”
    And so it came about that Mrs. McKinley was soon established in the pleasant rooms of Mrs. Kouts. It was only a few days after the move that Mary Mildred McKinley was placed in her mother’s arms for the first time.

* * * * *

    All those memories from the past, things I hadn’t thought of for months, came back to linger in my mind, putting up their heads at odd moments and interrupting my work. Some memories brought pleasure but others were painful. Such as the day Mrs. Kouts died, leaving me once again with no home; only this time I had a tiny baby and it was winter. Had it not been for the kindness of Mr. Carmichael who found me searching for work and insisted I come work here, I don’t know what would have become of Baby and me. Those were dark days, days it was hard to trust the promises of my heavenly Father, difficult to remember that He is faithful that promised, but He is faithful even when I doubt and my faith grows dim.
    It was several days after my walk home in the snow when Mr. Carmichael asked me to step into the library. The lamps had been lit, for the sun had hidden behind the western clouds early and the shadows were dark. Motioning me to a seat, Mr. Carmichael was silent until he had also seated himself in a chair before me.
    “Mary,” he began quietly, “is something bothering you? Are you happy here?”
    I must have looked startled for he added, “Mrs. Carmichael is growing worried about you. You haven’t been singing about your work and often you appear lost in deep thought.” There was concern in his voice and tears rose in my eyes.
    “I’m sorry if I troubled her. It’s . . . I . . .” I wasn’t sure how to tell it.
    Reaching out, he patted my arm. “Take your time, Mary,” he said quietly.
    I drew a deep breath and tried to collect my thoughts. “It’s memories, sir. They just keep coming to me, things that I haven’t thought of for months and some of them are hard. Oh, Mr. Carmichael, help me know what to do,” I begged. “My father doesn’t know how happy I was with Robert nor about Mary Mildred!”
    “Have you written to him?” It was a kindly put question but I began to cry.
    “I have tried, but they have all been sent back unopened! It is as though I have no father and Mother is dead.” I buried my face in my hands and wept. I don’t cry often, but this time I couldn’t help myself.
    “When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.”
    Another promise. I looked up through my tears. The Lord had not forsaken me.
    “Let me have your father’s address,” Mr. Carmichael suggested, “and I will write to him and tell him all about you and that you and Baby are well.”
    I clasped my hands together. “Oh, would you? And might I put a little note in myself? He may not read it, but he may and it might comfort him.”
    To this my kind employer readily agreed.
    The note was harder to write than I had thought it would be. I apologized for leaving in anger the way I had and asked his forgiveness even if he never spoke to me again. I didn’t tell him of Robert’s disappearance for he would have no sympathy. Instead I told him of finding my Savior, of the wonderful promises that I had discovered in Mother’s Bible and of the prayers I offered for him every night. Then I mentioned Baby and signed it, “Your own daughter, Mary Louise.”
    The weeks of January passed by pleasantly for the most part. I enjoyed my new home, the work I was assigned was easy and there was time to take care of Baby. Everyone was pleasant and I learned so much from the godly influence of the Carmichael family. Even Miss Catherine, two years my junior, taught me more about the Book of promises than I had known before, while Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael instructed me in the ways of the One who made and never breaks those promises. Altogether the month was one of growth both spiritually and physically, for in that house on the corner I was never in want of food as I had often been in the previous half a year.
    It was the last day of January. A new snowfall during the night had blanketed the city with the freshest of white coverings. I was busy helping Cook when the doorbell rang. Hearing Miss Catherine’s feet descending the stairs, I knew she would answer the door. It was but a moment later when she called me.
    Hurriedly I dried my hands and went to answer the summons.
    “You have a visitor,” she whispered, pushing me down the hall.
    Wondering who could be calling on me, I moved forward and saw a gentleman standing with his back to me apparently studying a painting on the wall. “Good morning.”
    The man turned at the sound of my voice and exclaimed with outstretched arms, “Mary Lou!”
    “Robert!” I felt his arms tighten about me, felt his lips pressed against mine, heard those loved tones again and could only murmur, “For He is faithful that promised!”

    I couldn’t tell exactly what happened after that. The Carmichaels had to be introduced and Robert had to meet Mary Mildred. The story Robert told wasn’t long. He had become very ill and had gotten off at the wrong station. For weeks no one knew who he was and by the time he was well enough to write me, I had moved. When he came back he started searching. He discovered through neighbors that I had lived with Mrs. Kouts until she died, but after that no one had any idea what became of me. At last he swallowed his pride and went to my father. There it was discovered that the letter Mr. Carmichael had written had arrived but the day before. Father, Robert told me, was waiting at a hotel to see me. Could anything make me happier? There was one more thing to fill my cup to overflowing.
    It was while my Robert and I were sitting in the library alone before supper that he told me.
    “Mary Lou, I have found your God and He is mine. Oh, my Darling, let us walk with Him all the rest of our lives!”
    Tears of happiness streamed down my cheeks as I whispered, “For He is faithful that promised.”

And that ends our story.

What did you think of it?

Are you willing to read "Dr. Morgan next week?

Should I finish "Dr. Morgan" or work on TCR-5?

A New Life - Part 3

Hello Friday Fiction Fans!
The sun is coming up and it's looks like another beautiful day. Probably a little warmer than it was yesterday since it's supposed to be in the 50s today. Now if Baby Girl would just decide to come today or tomorrow the other kids could play outside. But we'll see. I think it's still supposed to be nice the beginning of next week too.

It's been a busy week. Not only were Mom and I working on cleaning out and organizing, I was busy contacting people about reviewing my audio, answering interview questions, going back and forth with a couple who want me to make them a queen size quilt, plus my writing. And, I was asked to be a judge for a writing contest and have been having fun reading the 33 stories that got entered in the age group I'm judging. :)

For those of you who are interested in "Dr. Morgan," :) I have been very busy working on it. Last week I got 5 parts written and this week I have more than 5 parts written. I was looking for some book on writing to read hoping maybe to find a few helpful tips or some marketing ideas. My kindle is a good thing to use for this sort of reading because I was able to read a few samples on Amazon. I tried one book, but it sure wasn't helpful. So I tried another book. Wow! This one has been great! Not only does the author give practical advice about writing, he offers ideas to improve your writing, suggestions on how to get more written and I haven't read the rest of it. :) I've been trying a few of the little tricks I learned from a suggested post (Kindle makes it easy to go read those linked posts.) and wow! This lady had gone from writing 2,000 words a day to 10,000 words a day in the same amount of time! Now, I wasn't going for that big of a jump, but every time I've used these tips, I've about doubled my word count. It sure was fun, but my brain was really tired! Now, just because I'm writing more, it doesn't mean you don't have to pray. This is a challenging story to write and I need all the prayer I can get.

Okay, that's it for today. I'll leave you with the next part of this January story. Enjoy!

A New Life

Part 3

Last time . . .
    Within an hour, clouds had covered the sky and a breeze began to blow. With a smile, Mary Louise McKinley whispered with a song in her heart, “Faithful is He that promised.”

* * * * *

    The quiet crying of Baby roused me from my sleep. Her needs were soon met and she lay in my arms wide awake.
    “Precious Darling,” I crooned, “even your coming was met by more promises. If only your father could see you.” I choked back a sob, for it was during these waking hours of the night that I felt the loneliest. After nearly four months of being without him, the longing to hear my husband’s voice again, to feel his arms about me, his kiss on my lips, to see his smile and bright, honest, blue eyes gazing with a tender love into mine, was often almost more than I could bear. At such times I would pull out my Bible and read until I felt comforted. That night was no different. After wrapping a blanket about Mary Mildred, I turn on the gas and,  pulling my warm dressing gown about me, I settled in the rocker with Baby in one arm and my Bible in my lap.
    I didn’t know where to read, so I opened it up at random and read: “For the Lord has called thee as a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit, a wife of youth, when thou wast refused, saith thy God. . . . With everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer. . . . For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.”
    Leaning back I began to rock. “Even more promises,” I murmured. Sometimes it was hard to trust, often it was hard to wait, but I never had to wait in vain. “He is faithful that promised. It is so true, Mary Mildred,” I whispered to the sweet baby cooing in my arms. “He is faithful, every time.”

* * * * *

    “I’m sorry ma’am,” the young man said, his face flushed and his voice apologetic. “You haven’t paid your rent last week or this and the owner of the place wants you out unless you pay.”
    It was the beginning of autumn. Already the cold nights had wrought changes; the trees had begun to exchange their summer dress of green for the brilliant and much admired dress of fall, large and small flocks of geese could be seen flying south while the last few summer flowers which had dared to bloom so late were gathered to be taken indoors and enjoyed. Mrs. McKinley didn’t notice any of those things, however, instead she stared at the young man before her. “But I don’t have money to pay right now. I’m expecting my husband back from a business trip any day now and then we can pay.”
    “Sorry,” the young man repeated. “Boss’s orders. If you don’t pay by the end of the week you’ll be thrown out.”
    “Oh what shall I do?” Mrs. McKinley moaned, a hand over her mouth as her visitor turned and moved away. “I scarcely have money to keep one room warm and food to eat. Robert, where are you? I need you. We need you,” she amended placing one hand on the front of her dress. “What am I to do?”
    For several minutes she stood in the doorway, leaning against the side and trying to think of a way to earn the needed rent money. At last, with a discouraged sigh, she turned and went into the house.
    Sitting down in the hard chair near the window, she picked up her sewing. The shop wouldn’t give her much more and soon she wouldn’t even be able to do that. “Isn’t there something I can do? Is there anyone I can ask to help me?” In her mind she went over her small list of acquaintances. She could think of no one. Tears began to gather and the sewing dropped from her hands.
    It wasn’t until after her cry was over that Mrs. McKinley glanced about the room to see if there was anything she might sell to pay the rent until Robert came home. As she did, her eyes fell upon her Bible. With a little cry, she started up, her sewing falling unheeded to the floor. “How could I forget?”
    Hugging the book to her heart, she knelt beside the bed. “Forgive me, Lord, for not coming to Thee right away.” Rising, the young wife sat down on the bed and turned the pages reading a verse here and one there until she read: “Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive; and let thy widows trust in me.” Gently she closed the book and sat for a minute. “I will trust in Thee,” she whispered. “Help me.”

    The following morning dawned bright and clear. A knock sounded on the door before Mrs. McKinley had gotten the meager breakfast things cleared away.
    “Good Morning, Mary Louise,” a cheery voice greeted when the door was opened. “I hope I’m not disturbing you calling this early. You see, I was hoping you had a bit of black thread I might have. I only need a small piece, but I have run out, and I haven’t time to go downtown.” It was one of Mrs. McKinley’s near neighbors, an older woman who rented a few rooms in a large house on the corner. She also took in mending and the two women had often exchanged greetings or offered advice.
    Mrs. McKinley produced the desired thread and Mrs. Kouts proceeded to sew on a button. Somehow, Mrs. McKinley was never quite sure how it came about, she found herself pouring out her troubles into the sympathetic ears of her visitor.
    “Dear me, such trouble,” Mrs. Kouts shook her head. “Have you no idea where your husband might be notified? No? Well, then I see no other way but for you to pack your things and I’ll get two of my neighbors’ sons to bring them over to my rooms."

What do you think happens next?

Next week is the final part.

Will you be back?

A New Life - Part 2

Good Morning Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,
I hope you all had a good week. Was it a productive week? Mine was.

All the decorations got taken down and put away last Friday and the house got cleaned. We babysat the kiddos and had a good time playing with them and building a house in their living room which was large enough for them all to "sleep" in. :) We are all waiting the arrival of the new baby, a girl! Pickle Puss is thrilled to be getting a sister after four brothers. Funny Boy didn't want a sister at first, he wanted another boy to play army with. But I think everyone is excited about the new arrival.

I tried writing "Dr. Morgan" last week and it was terrible! I got about three sentences written and stuck. I couldn't come up with anything and every sentence I tried sounded flat and boring. I tried again on Tuesday (babysat Monday night so didn't write) and got 300 words written. That was better. Still slow, but at least it was progress. Then came Wednesday evening. This time before I started around 5:00, I played the piano a little and did a little exercise. Got a start before supper. Then after supper I did something else I do now and then when my story requires some thinking before I can write again. I lay on my bed with my feet on the slanted part of the ceiling. :) Okay, so I'm rather strange. What can I say, I'm an author. ;) Anyway, all those things and prayers seemed to work and I got 1,400 words written. Yesterday I skipped the piano, but did the exercise and the feet on the ceiling and wrote 1,500 words. This story is really moving along. Some fans had quite a few questions and one of them sparked a new idea and it's really taken off and added a dimension to the story I hadn't thought of. :)

This week I also got some positive feedback on the TCR books. A dad of one of my fans, started reading the series and LOVES it! He placed an order for "the next 6 books." :) He's also made suggestions for things that might happen in later books. If you have ideas for later books, let me know and I'll jot them down on my idea pages. :) I can never have too many ideas.

But I'm going to get on with other things and let you enjoy this next part of . . .

A New Life

Part 2

 Last time . . .
    Laughing, I pulled back and replied, “I’m not cold a bit. Why this snow is very invigorating and I enjoyed every minute of my walk, but I must go tend to Mary Mildred.”
    However, I hadn’t gotten three steps up the stairs before Mr. Carmichael’s voice stopped me. “Mary,” he questioned, “did you have enough money for a car fare?”
    With hand on the rail, I looked back over my shoulder. These people were so good to me, taking Baby and me in when we had no place to go. Somehow I knew they would understand. “I did when I started back, sir, but there was a young girl who didn’t have a warm house or plenty of food and well . . .” I didn’t have to finish, for Mr. Carmichael smiled and nodded. He understood.
    I had reached the upper hall when his quiet voice came floating up to me, “The Lord loves a cheerful giver. Catherine, she is one of the Lord’s loved ones and no mistake.”

    That night, as I sat in a little rocker which Mrs. Carmichael had given me when I came, and cuddled my sleeping daughter, I looked out the window at the snow covered branches and the bright twinkling stars above and thought about what Mr. Carmichael had said. “One of the Lord’s loved ones.” A year ago it never would have been said.

* * * * *

    “Here ma’am,” a bright voice caused Mrs. McKinley to turn. There was a neatly dressed young lady standing beside her in the aisle of the streetcar. In her hand she held out a bit of pasteboard. “I do hope you will join us at the meeting tonight.”
    Politely Mrs. McKinley took the pasteboard and read “Gospel Meeting at 7th and Broadway. Free admission. All are welcome.” When she looked up again, the girl had gone, so young Mrs. McKinley tucked the notice into her handbag and prepared to walk the last few blocks to her house.
    As she and her husband sat together before a small stove, Mrs. McKinley produced the invitation and added, “Would you like to go, Robert?”
    After a quick glance at the printed words, Mr. McKinley laughed. “No thanks. I don’t feel in special need of their religious meetings. You weren’t thinking of going, were you Mary Lou?”
    Mrs. McKinley shook her head. “Only if you wanted to go.”
    The meeting was forgotten and the young couple went about their daily lives with never a thought for the One who made them and loved them. All was forgotten until one spring day, late in the afternoon. Mrs. McKinley was coming home with a basket of sewing to do when a sudden spring shower commenced to fall. Seeking shelter from the downpour that had begun so quickly, she found herself inside a church where a meeting was going on. There she heard of the Savior’s great love and such a longing came over her to be one of His children that, when the meeting was over, she made her way up to the minister. A long conversation was had between those two, the elder, grey haired minister and young, eager wife. When at last she left the church, Mrs. McKinley had a peace which she had never felt before.

* * * * *

    I gave a sigh as I rose to put Baby in her little bed. “Your papa didn’t understand what had happened to me that night, Baby,” I whispered sadly. “He didn’t understand and didn’t want to. If it had not been for the precious verses I found in Mother’s old Bible which had been buried deep in my trunk, I don’t know how I would have continued.” Quietly I prepared for bed, turned out the light, and in the shimmering, silver glow of the moon on the snow I knelt down to pray.
    “Oh Father in Heaven,” I murmured, “I thank you for this new home for Baby and me. For providing for us when we were in such need. Now I ask you to bless my Robert wherever he may be. Oh Father, you who said that if we ask in faith believing we shall receive, grant your salvation to my Robert! Faithful are you who have promised. You have never failed me even when times were hard, when difficulties seemed to almost overwhelm me, yet you were faithful and delivered me from them all.”
    How long I knelt there praying for my husband, I don’t know, but the peace of God filled me and at last I lay down and slept.

* * * * *

    “Listen Mary Lou,” Robert said one night in early summer, “I don’t mind if you want to be religious, but don’t preach at me.”
    Mrs. McKinley nodded. How she longed to have her husband one with her in this new experience, but he wanted nothing to do with it. His heart seemed hardened
    With a sudden change of subject, Mr. McKinley remarked, “I do wish, Darling, that you could get out of the city before summer’s heat is fully here. I’m afraid you’ll get sick.”
    “Where would I go?”
    “That’s the problem, I don’t know.”
    Mrs. McKinley laughed brightly at the expression on her husband’s face. “Don’t worry about me,” she assured him. “I’ll be all right.”
    Summer came and with it intense and oppressive heat. There were days when the young Mrs. McKinley felt wilted and listless. “I can’t go on,” she murmured to herself one especially hot morning. “This heat is just too unbearable. It seems to have drained nearly every drop of energy from me.” Picking up her Bible she opened it and read, “The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.” Flipping over a few pages her eyes caught the words: “The Lord is my strength and my song.”
    “Father, be my strength and my shade. I’m so tired and weary. Help me to have strength that Robert might not worry about me. Be Thou my song.”
    Within an hour, clouds had covered the sky and a breeze began to blow. With a smile, Mary Louise McKinley whispered with a song in her heart, “Faithful is He that promised.”

Do you like this story?

Will you be back for the next part?

Any idea for "Dr. Morgan" or TCR?

A New Life - Part 1

Happy New Year, Friday Fiction Fans!
You know, if it weren't for the faithfulness of you fans coming back each week to read something new, I probably would have quit blogging quite a while ago. So, thank you all for reading and commenting.
I hope you all had a good transition from 2014 into 2015. I did. I slept. :) I remember staying up one time till mid-night and that was the end of 1999-2000. Nothing exciting happened. A few fireworks went off, but everything looked the same, and I went to bed. I haven't stayed up till mid-night since.

After spending the earlier half of the week at my grandparents', we are back home and undecorating. We got a start yesterday, and should be finishing it up today. As much as I love decorating the house for Christmas, enjoying the soft glow of the white Christmas lights in the doorways, on the little trees and elsewhere in the evenings, I enjoy putting everything all away and getting the house back to "normal." I'm ready to get back to doing "normal" things. Like writing.

I probably won't start "Dr. Morgan" until next week, but I'm looking forward to it. I haven't any new ideas for it, so if you do, let me know! Perhaps I can also finish a few other short stories so I'll have something to post when this story ends. Or should I post "re-runs"? :)

This story was written for "Project 12" and was the January story. I hope you all enjoy it.

A New Life

Part 1

    The snowflakes, which had been small and light only thirty minutes ago, had become heavy and were falling thickly about me. It was cold, but not a penetrating cold where the wind cuts through coats no matter how thick they are, as though they were nothing, and chilling one to the very bone by its bitterness; this was a pleasant cold, brisk, invigorating, and the snow was lovely falling all around and rapidly covering up the drab grass and the few piles of ugly, dirty snow which still remained from the last snowfall.
    I paused on the sidewalk and gazed about. A new year, a new snowfall, a new house; all together it meant a new life for us. Tilting my face up, my eyes blinked as the large, fat flakes fell on my nose and hair. Glorious, that’s what it was! I gave a long sigh of contentment and then set off once more, thankful that the grocer’s boy had offered to bring the packages around in an hour. It would have been difficult to carry them, for the snow was making the streets a mess of slippery slush. Passing carriages or automobiles only churned up the roads and made them worse than before.
    Pulling my new coat closer about me, I hurried on. Little Mary Mildred would be waiting for me. How kind it was of Miss Catherine to promise to watch Baby so that I might run the errands for Cook and Mrs. Carmichael. I would have been nearly home now, how pleasant that word sounded, had it not been for the young girl I had found looking cold and hungry. I had only my car fare with me, but the thankfulness in her voice and face more than repaid the walking I now had to do.
    “For He is faithful that promised.” Softly I whispered those words and knew them to be true. Only two months ago I wouldn’t have even been able to spare a car fare. Even before I was married extra money was not plentiful even if I had been minded to bestow some of it on those in need.

* * * * *

    “Mary Louise! If you once leave this house to marry that man, you will never set foot in it again!” thundered Mr. Ryan as he stood before his daughter with flashing eyes and folded arms. His face was stern “Do I make myself clear?”
    “Perfectly, Father,” the daughter replied, her dark eyes flashing in the same way her father’s did, but her voice calmly quiet.
    “Than get back to your room.”
    “I will not. I am going to marry Robert McKinley, Father. Nothing you say or do will stop me.”
    “Mary Louise!” Mr. Ryan roared, “I forbid you to marry that man!”
    There was a toss of the small, brown head before the angry man and a quiet voice answered, “You already forbade me to think of him, but it didn’t work. I love him, Father, and I am going to marry him! If you won’t consent and give me your blessing, I’ll do without, but I cannot do without Robert McKinley!”
    There was a pause as the two equally strong-willed persons glared at each other. Neither one would give an inch, so at last, with a quiet, “Good bye, Father,” Mary Louise left her father’s house to join young Robert McKinley who was waiting for her.
    “He’ll break your heart!” shouted the irate father after the two young people.

* * * * *

    “Poor Father,” I thought, trudging onward. “And poor Robert. If only I knew where— No, I will not start thinking like that!” Resolutely I pushed the troublesome thoughts from my mind as I turned into the quiet, pleasant street where my new home was.
    I could see the house up the hill. The white sides of the large, pleasant home were not as distinct through the veil of quickly falling snow as they would be when surrounded by the green foliage on the large, old trees or the brilliant colors from the many gardens which surrounded it in summer. Its many windows looked dark, and I knew the members of the household must be in the back parts of the house. Guarded by two less than ferocious looking marble lions, the steps leading up to the corner porch held a blanket of snow. Smiling, I made my way around to the kitchen door. I was home.
    “There you are, Mary,” Cook exclaimed in relief. “Miss Catherine was worried about you and Mr. Carmichael was going to go out looking for you if you didn’t come soon. You’d best go right out there and relieve their minds as well as Baby’s. Though to be sure I’ve scarcely heard a sound from her.”
    As she spoke I quickly took off my coat and rubbers and then leaving Cook still talking to herself, I hurried upstairs.
    “Oh, Mary, I’m so glad you’re home! Father, Mary is home,” Miss Catherine called into the library. Then she turned to me once more. “When the car came and went and you didn’t appear I began to think something had happened to you. Mother has Baby and she’s been as good as gold.”
    Her mixed pronouns made me laugh.
    “But where were you, Mary?” Miss Catherine continued before I could hurry away to my little one.
    “Yes, Mary,” Mr. Carmichael’s deep, kind voice added as he came from the library, “what kept you so long?”
    “I tried to hurry, but I walked home instead of taking the cars. I’m so sorry you were worried.”
    “Walked! In this weather? Why you must be frozen! Come right into the library. Papa has a good fire going, and I’ll have Cook bring you a cup of hot tea.” Miss Catherine was in a flutter. “But why did you walk, Mary? Didn’t you have enough money for the fare?”
    Laughing, I pulled back and replied, “I’m not cold a bit. Why this snow is very invigorating and I enjoyed every minute of my walk, but I must go tend to Mary Mildred.”

Did you enjoy this start?

Any idea for "Dr. Morgan" are welcome!

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.

Happy Day - Part 4

Good Morning Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,
This has been another "fallish" week though not so much as before. We've had the house open all week and it rained almost all day on Wednesday which was wonderful as we really needed rain. Right now it is partly cloudy and I can hear the birds singing away. Can you believe it is August?

My week has been busy.  I got a new computer desk and put it all together on Tuesday. I finished cutting out a bunch of paper dolls for my niece, painted a wall in the kitchen, read some, worked on putting odds and ends away, visited with a friend and her little children and held her new baby, and did other various things.

As far as writing goes, I have written a little over a 1/4 of TCR-4 and it's been fun. I did get completely stuck, but the next day I played the piano for a little while before I tried to write and that night I got 1,000 words written. :) (500 is a usual amount for me in the evenings.)

Update on Triple Creek Ranch - Rustlers: It is still being edited. With my computer problems in June, and a busy life, things got a bit behind. But don't panic yet. I'm hoping to have the book ready for order by next Friday. If it is ready before then, I'll be sure to let you all know. I can't wait to hear what you all think of this book. :) And to see if you have any ideas for future stories. :)

And I think that's all I have to tell you about right now. So, I'll let you have the rest of this story. 

Happy Day

Part 4

    “And what’s that?”
    So I told him what I wanted to get her and then said, “And you should get her a ring with a real diamond.”
    For a minute Daddy didn’t say anything or even look at me. Then he said quietly, “Do you think so, Rinnah Bird?” (That’s Daddy’s other nickname for me.)
    I nodded.
    “Do you know what a ring like that means?”
    I nodded again. Of course I knew, and I wanted Miss Natalie to be my mama. “I’ve wanted a mama for a long time, Daddy,” I whispered. “But we never met the right one until Miss Natalie came. And Daddy? She said I wasn’t too big to sit in a mommy’s lap.”
    Daddy didn’t say anything but pulled me into his own lap and held me tightly.

    Well, Diary, Daddy did get Miss Natalie a ring for Christmas, and she hugged him. I heard her say quietly to him, “What does Rinnah think of all this?”
    And Daddy whispered back, “She’s the one who suggested it in the first place.” And he winked at me.
    We all went over to Grandma and Grandpa’s on Christmas night for dinner, and when Aunt Anna saw the ring on Miss Natalie’s finger she gave a little scream and hugged her and then hugged Daddy and said, “It’s about time!” whatever that was supposed to mean. And Uncle Will slapped Daddy on the back and everyone was excited.
    There was lots of talking during dinner and afterwards, but I was quiet. I was doing some thinking. Don’t misunderstand me, Diary, I wasn’t having second thoughts about Daddy and Miss Natalie getting married, not at all.
    “Rinnah!”
    I jumped and looked up. Everyone was looking at me and I couldn’t figure out why. I was about to see if my dress had turned inside-out or was on backwards when Daddy called me over to him. “You’re being awfully quiet, Rinnah Bird, is something wrong? Are you feeling all right?”
    “No, I’m fine. I was just thinking.”
    “What about?”
    “What I want for my birthday.”
    Suddenly everyone started laughing. I didn’t know I had said anything funny. I hadn’t meant to be funny. Sometimes I just don’t understand grownups.
    “But I was, Daddy,” I protested when the laughter had quieted down. “And I know just what I want.”
    Uncle Will was still chuckling and the others had grins on their faces. “Chickadee, it’s not even the day after Christmas, your birthday isn’t until April, and you are already trying to decide what you want?”
    I sighed. “No, Daddy, I’m not deciding what I want, I already know that. I was just thinking about it and wondering if I’d get it.”
    Daddy was still too amused to ask me what it was I wanted, but Miss Natalie wasn’t. She put her arm around me and pulled me over to her. “It must be something very special if you are already thinking about it,” she said and I nodded. “What is it?”
    “I want a mama for my birthday.”
    Miss Natalie blushed and Daddy looked eager. “Why not, Natalie?” he asked.
    “But that’s only four months away. I don’t know if I could plan a wedding that quickly—”
    “We’ll all help, Natalie,” Aunt Anna put in quickly. “Just think, we could be sisters in only four months!” I could tell Aunt Anna and Daddy were on my side, but I wasn’t sure we had won the most important person over yet.
    “Please,” I leaned against her to whisper. “I’ve wanted a mama so badly for such a long time.”
    First she kissed me, then she looked at the hand Daddy was holding, and at last she agreed.

    Diary, it is evening now. I’ve been roller-skating and helped make supper and now I’m going to try to finish writing this. I don’t have many pages left.

    I won’t tell about the months before the wedding. My birthday came on a Tuesday this year and Miss Natalie wasn’t sure that was a good day for a wedding, but I convinced her it was. It was beautiful! The sun was shining and everything was pretty.
    Daddy woke me up that morning with a kiss. “Happy Birthday, Rinnah Bird,” he whispered.
    I was wide awake in a minute and dressed quickly. I had begged to have the wedding in the morning before my birthday party because I wanted my mama at my party and not just Miss Natalie. Daddy told me I should be a lawyer because I argued my case so well, but they agreed to it. Daddy and I drove over to the church right after breakfast and Bible reading. There was a lovely verse this morning that Daddy read that I kept thinking about: “Let them rejoice before God: yea, let them exceedingly rejoice. Sing unto God, sing praises to his name.” That just fits how I felt yesterday morning.
    The church looked so pretty that morning. The grey stone walls with large ornate windows and a brown roof formed the chapel, while the rest of the church was connected by a stone wall that looked like part of a castle. The grass and pine tree were green and the redbud tree was in full bloom. The sun was shining and there were patches of white clouds that seemed to melt into the blue sky. It was all so pretty and I was so excited. I wanted to sing and shout.
    Aunt Anna helped me get ready and did my hair. I wore a white dress with a sash just the color of the redbud blossoms. Never was there a happier girl than I was when I walked down that aisle yesterday morning scattering petals for my new mother to walk on. When I reached the front of the church, I saw Daddy standing there waiting. He smiled at me and I ran over to kiss him. He seemed to like that even if it hadn’t been rehearsed.
    When Uncle Josh (he had come down from Maine just to preform the ceremony for Daddy) had finished all the vows and things and then pronounced them man and wife, I was so excited; I had a mother! Then they came down the steps and both Daddy and Mama smiled at me.
    After the reception, Daddy and Mama and I, all left in the decorated car and drove to Grandma’s together. There we changed and I had my birthday party. Diary, you’ll never know how special that birthday party was to me because I can’t tell it. It wasn’t until after cake and ice cream that Daddy and Mama left for their honeymoon. They’ll be gone only a week, and I’m staying at Grandma and Grandpa’s.
    I see I didn’t tell all the details of the day, but how could I? It would take another diary to write them all down. I guess I can remember all the extra little things in my heart until I can write them down because I’m out of room here.

Did you like the ending?

Which story should I give you next:

"New Life," "Forget Not" or "Being Decisive"?

P. S. I was going to do a post mid week because I'd been awarded several times by different people, but I haven't had time. I'll try to do one this week, so keep checking to see a whole bunch of questions and answers. :)

Happy Day - Part 3

Hello Friday Fiction Fans,
It's hard to believe it's Friday again. I feel like I lost my Monday and only had half my Tuesday and here it is Friday again. And we're back to the heat of summer. Yesterday morning was nice and we had the house open, but by mid afternoon it was hot. And today is supposed to be another hot day. But the weather is usually hot here in summer. :)

In spite of spending most of my day on Monday outside in the heat trying to find and pack everything Light of Faith needed for their last conference in TX so we could send it all with some friends who were going down to help out, I did have something exciting happen. My proof copy of TCR-3 came! Yay! It is being proof read now and I can't wait to let you all read the finished book.

I am still working on TCR-4, but have run into a slight problem. I need a picture and a name of a beautiful horse. It must be a mare but can be a Quarter horse, a Paint, an Appaloosa, a Mustang or a Morgan. Any help would be greatly appreciated. :)

You want to know what else I've been doing? Well, I've been making huge messes in my room and then cleaning them up. :P Crazy thing to do, you might think, but it does have a purpose. I've been needing to clean out many drawers and boxes but just never got around to it. Now, because of a little rearranging,  I've decided to tackle the project. I've made good progress, but it's slow. Oh, well.

And now here is the next part of your Friday Fiction. Enjoy!

Happy Day

Part 3

    She did write me some letters and I wrote to her. Daddy lets me write letters, but until I started to write to Miss Natalie, I only had Uncle Josh to write to. I sent pictures and things to Miss Natalie and she sent me stickers. I do like getting mail.

    It wasn’t until the end of summer that Miss Natalie came again. Daddy and I invited her and Uncle Will and Aunt Anna over on Saturday for a fun day. It was fun too. We played outside all morning and had water fights. Miss Natalie, Aunt Anna and I got Daddy soaked! He said he would get us, but we ran away.
    After lunch everyone was going to go to the park, but Daisy was taking a nap. Aunt Anna wanted to go, so Miss Natalie said she would stay with Daisy. That made me rather sad for I wanted to be with Miss Natalie. When we were only two houses away from our house, I asked Aunt Anna if I couldn’t go back home and stay with Miss Natalie. Aunt Anna called her and then said I could. I raced all the way home again. There was something I had wanted to ask Miss Natalie, but when it was just the two of us in the living room, I felt a little shy. At last I got up and walked over to her. She was sitting on the couch.
    “Miss Natalie,” I began shyly. “Do you think I’m too big to sit on laps?”
    Miss Natalie smiled. “Of course you aren’t!”
    “Do you think my mother would still hold me if she hadn’t died?”
    “Yes, Rinnah, I do.”
    I looked down at the picture of my mother and I said, “I wish she hadn’t died then because I want her to hold me.” I hadn’t ever told Daddy that I longed for a mommy to hold me. I was afraid it would make him cry again.
    I think Miss Natalie understood me because she opened her arms and said, “Would it help to pretend that I’m your mother?”
    She didn’t need to ask again for I climbed right up, and she hugged me close. It was then that I knew what a mother’s arms were like. You may think it strange, Diary, when I’d had Grandma and Aunt Anna to hold and hug and kiss me, to still wonder what a mother would be like, but grandmas and aunts aren’t the same thing.
    After Miss Natalie had held me for a minute she asked, “Who gave you the name Rinnah?”
    “My mother did. Daddy picked my middle name, Melanie.”
    “Do you know what your name means?”
    I didn’t know. I knew names had meanings, but I never could find ‘Rinnah’ in the name book. But Miss Natalie knew.
    “The name Rinnah is a Hebrew name that means ‘rejoicing song.’ So your name means ‘A rejoicing song of courage.’”
    I liked that. I liked that my mother had named me a rejoicing song. It made me feel like singing. I asked Miss Natalie if she liked that name and she tickled me and said, “I love it!” Then we played a game together until Daisy woke up.

    I didn’t know it then, but Daddy liked Miss Natalie and she liked him. After she went back home, there would sometimes be a letter in the mail from her that wasn’t for me. And once, when I was in bed, I woke up and heard Daddy talking on the phone. I crept to my bedroom door and listened. I was a little scared that it might be something bad that had happened, but Daddy was laughing and said, “We couldn’t agree more, Natalie.” Then I went back to bed. It took me a long time to get to sleep again. I was thinking. If Daddy liked Miss Natalie enough to talk on the phone to her when it was late, did he like her enough to— Well, I didn’t let myself finish the sentence, but I thought about it for days afterwards. And I kept my eyes and ears open.

    Miss Natalie came to visit Aunt Anna again in the fall. At least that is what Aunt Anna said, but she always said it with a grin, and I think Miss Natalie really came to see Daddy and me. She was over at our house nearly every day.

    By the time Thanksgiving came around, I knew Daddy loved Miss Natalie. She came for Thanksgiving and we all had Thanksgiving at Grandma and Grandpa’s. I didn’t get to talk much with Miss Natalie because right after dinner she and Daddy took a long walk together.
    “Aunt Anna,” I said, going into the kitchen to help dry dishes. “Do you know what I think Daddy ought to get Miss Natalie for Christmas?”
    “What?”
    “A ring.”
    She just laughed and said I should tell Daddy that. I said I would and then I said I wanted to get her a necklace with a picture of Daddy and me in a locket. Aunt Anna turned from the sink and kissed me but she didn’t say a thing. Sometimes I don’t understand her.
    It was the night after Miss Natalie had gone back home. We had gone to the airport to tell her good-bye and Daddy hardly said a word all the way home. He and I were sitting on the couch and we had just finished reading the Bible together. I curled up beside him and he put his arm around me. “Daddy, Christmas is coming,” I told him.
    “Um hm.”
    “And we ought to start thinking about Christmas presents.”
    Then he looked down and me and tweaked my nose gently as he replied, “I suppose you have all your list made out, Chickadee?”
    I don’t know why he calls me Chickadee. I don’t look anything like one. “No,” I giggled. “But I know what we should get for Miss Natalie.” I looked up at him with a grin. He had a funny look on his face.

Will you be back next Friday for the final part?

Are you enjoying this story?

And are you eagerly waiting for my newest book to come out?

Happy Day - Part 2

Good Morning Friday Fiction Fans!
I don't know about you all, but we are enjoying lovely cool weather right now in the middle of July! It feels like September with cool days and cooler nights. Our windows have been open and several times I find myself thinking that fall has come. :) It is supposed to be back in the 90s next week, so we'll enjoy this weather while we can.

How has your week been? Have you done anything really fun or interesting? My week hasn't been dull. This is the first full free week I've had since I've gotten my new computer and it's been interesting to see what I can do and what I have to adjust to. :) I have been working on correcting parts of TCR-4 and another longer short story which have been sitting on my desk for weeks! Very nice to get them done. :) Oh, one thing you may be interested in is that the proof copy of TCR-3 is in the mail to me! I should be getting it any day! So I think we may still be able to have this book out by the first of August. :) For those of you who are anxiously awaiting it, that is only two weeks away. :) Can you wait that long?

Speaking of TCR, I have been writing every day on book 4 and have gotten quite a bit done. I'm not quite a quarter of the way done, but close. I'm still trying to get caught up on other things which got stacked up when my other computer was giving out. And I haven't let myself read a single book this week. I love to read and too often I find myself reading when I really should be writing. :P So, I decided that I wouldn't start any book this week. At least not until Saturday. :)

But here is the next part of this story. It was a story that almost wrote itself.

Happy Day

Part 2

    It was my ninth birthday, and we were having a party. It wasn’t a large party because I didn’t have a lot of friends around, but that was okay with me. It was just going to be Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Will and Aunt Anna and their little ones and Daddy and me. But the day before my birthday, Aunt Anna called me.
    “Rinnah (that is my name), one of my very best friends since I was a little girl is visiting me for two weeks. Would you mind if she comes to your party too?”
    Of course I said I didn’t mind. Her friend’s name was Natalie.
    We did have a lovely time on my birthday and I liked Miss Natalie. She was very sweet and fun. When the little ones wanted to play duck-duck-goose, she joined in. Most grownups don’t like to play such silly games. I liked her a lot and the next day, since Daddy had to go to a meeting, Aunt Anna and Miss Natalie took me shopping with them, and we even got ice cream!
    When Daddy picked me up, I told him all about my day, and he said he was jealous. I told him he shouldn’t have those boring meetings. I’ve been to one of those meetings and I never want to go again! Daddy just laughed and said he’d be delighted to not have to go to them, but unfortunately, it’s business and if he wants to get paid, he has to go. Poor Daddy. I do feel sorry for those men who have to go to such boring meetings.
    Miss Natalie came to church with Aunt Anna and we all ate lunch at Grandma’s afterwards. I really liked Miss Natalie and she seemed to like me too. I didn’t know if she liked Daddy because she was hardly ever with him, and Daddy doesn’t talk a whole lot to just anyone. While we were at Grandma’s, I discovered that Miss Natalie draws. She drew me a picture of a little girl picking flowers and she did it all in just a few minutes. I wish I could draw like that. I’m practicing now, but I’m still not very good. But Daddy said I will be if I work hard. I’m going to work hard while he’s gone and then I’ll surprise them when they come home!
    When it was the day before Miss Natalie was to go back home, Aunt Anna got sick. She got real sick and so Miss Natalie didn’t go home after all. She stayed to help take care of the children and the house while Uncle Will was at the hospital with Aunt Anna. That was a frightening time for me because my cousin Daisy was the same age I was when my mother died. I spent nearly every day over with Miss Natalie helping with the children when Daddy was at work. We prayed for Aunt Anna together and that made me feel better.
    Uncle Will would come home sometimes and talk with Daddy and Miss Natalie and hug his children. Grandma and Grandpa were over to help Miss Natalie too. It seemed like we were all over at Uncle Will and Aunt Anna’s house more than we were at home. But it only lasted for about a week. Then Aunt Anna got better enough to come home. It was kind of scary when I first saw her because she was very thin and pale. But when she smiled, I knew she was still the same Aunt Anna.
    Since Aunt Anna was still not completely well, Miss Natalie went home for only a day and then came back. The children liked it and so did I. Once I asked Aunt Anna if she liked having Miss Natalie there all the time. She said, “I love it. Wouldn’t you enjoy it if your best friend could stay at your house for weeks?”
    I thought a moment before saying, “I don’t have a best friend except Daddy, so I don’t know.”
    Aunt Anna just smiled.
    I don’t remember how long it was before Aunt Anna was completely well again, but I do know that before Miss Natalie left to go back to her home, Daddy and I invited her and Uncle Will and Aunt Anna over to our house for supper. Since it was warm out, Daddy was going to cook hamburgers on the grill. I made potato salad all by myself. Daddy just drained the potatoes for me. And then I made brownies. I was learning how to cook and I think it is fun. (I’m still learning, and Grandma is going to let me help fix all the meals while I’m here this week.)
    Everyone seemed to enjoy the meal, and we all sat outside on the back porch after we ate. The little ones were happy to play on the swings and with a ball out in the yard. I played with them for a while, but then I came back and sat on the swing between Aunt Anna and Miss Natalie. For a while we just sat and let the swing go back and forth. Reaching out, I held a hand of each of them. I realized that next to Daddy, they were my two favorite friends and I whispered to Miss Natalie, “I wish you didn’t have to go home. I’ll miss you!”
    And she whispered back, “I’m going to miss you too!”
    “Won’t you please come back soon?” I asked. “If Aunt Anna doesn’t want you at her house, you can stay here with Daddy and me.”
    I didn’t know why Aunt Anna laughed and called me a little match-maker, but I did understand when Miss Natalie kissed me and whispered, “That’s sweet of you. I’ll try to come back soon.”

    She did come back about a month later for Aunt Anna’s birthday. I didn’t know she had come until I saw her come into church with Aunt Anna and Uncle Will! I was so excited to see her again. Even Daddy seemed pleased and they talked for a while. Miss Natalie couldn’t stay for very many days this time, and I was sad when she left.

Did you like this part?

You still have two parts to go.

Happy Day - Part 1

Good Morning Friday Fiction Fans!
It doesn't seem possible that it can be Friday already! The week has flown by! On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, I spent the day teaching a writing class of 32 children ages 9-13. There were some crazy moments, but overall I really enjoyed it. :)

I haven't gotten a bit of writing done this week. I know, it is rather sad. I'm trying to get used to my new computer and figure some things out. I'm hoping to get to work on TCR-3 very soon as I now have all the illustrations! Yippee! I can't wait to make this book available to you favorite readers. :)

I know this if short, but I really don't have a whole lot of time nor a whole lot to tell you, and instead of rambling on and on about nothing, I'll just stop.

Now I have to decide which story to start today. Hmm, let me go look . . . I decided on a story.

Happy Day

Part 1

    Dear Diary,
    I just got you today, but since I couldn’t wait to use you, I decided to start writing tonight. I’ll probably have to finish in the morning because Grandma will be coming up soon to tuck me in.
    This day has been the happiest day of my life! Always and forever I’ll never forget it. And just so I can remember all the details, I wanted to write them down. Daddy said I’m good at remembering all the little things, but I might forget them when I get to be old, like in my thirties, and then I couldn’t tell them to my children and grandchildren. Of course I know I wouldn’t have grandchildren when I am in my thirties, but later on I really might not remember everything or they might get mixed up in my mind. I want to set them down forever in this lovely, pink diary.
    Maybe I should tell it all like a story. I do like to tell stories. Aunt Anna said I tell the younger ones splendid stories. But this isn’t for the younger ones, it’s for the older ones, but mostly it’s for me, and Daddy and Mama. I love to write that name: Mama. How sweet it looks!
    But I must begin.

    I suppose I should go way back to when I was just a baby practically. I was only nineteen-months-old when my mother got very sick and died. Being so young, I don’t remember it or her at all. Of course I’ve seen Mother’s picture lots of times, but it’s not the same. Pictures can’t kiss you or hold you on their lap when you are tired. But a Daddy can. Daddy raised me himself. Well, almost by himself. Aunt Anna helped some when I was little before she got married, and Grandma and Grandpa helped too, but mostly it has just been Daddy and me.
    We’ve had a good time together, just us two. Daddy took me out on a sailboat one time, and we flew in an airplane to visit Daddy’s Uncle Josh in Maine when I was eight. I didn’t like the plane too much, but I wasn’t scared because Daddy was there.

    Life hasn’t been all happy though. I mean, when I was little I had a temper. I still have one, but Daddy and I have been praying and Jesus is helping me control it better. But when I was little, I’d get stubborn sometimes when I was told to do something and then when I got in trouble I’d scream and be just awful. I remember one time especially.
    I think I was about four when it happened. I was staying with Aunt Anna, and Daddy was expected to come pick me up any minute. Aunt Anna told me to clean up a mess I had made, but I said no and just stood there. Aunt Anna said, “If you won’t pick up, then you can sit in that chair until your daddy comes.”
    Well, Diary, I didn’t like that and I threw myself on the floor and screamed. Just then Daddy walked in. He didn’t say a word, just picked me up and spanked me. I don’t remember many spankings, but that one I do remember. Then I picked up the toys. So you see, life wasn’t always easy for me or for Daddy.

    I remember another time when I was about seven. I had been in bed for some time, but I couldn’t get to sleep. Finally I decided to risk a spanking by getting up and going to see Daddy. Slipping into the living room, I saw Daddy seated in his chair staring at a picture of Mother. And Diary, he was crying! Until then I didn’t know that Daddy’s ever cried. I forgot all about maybe getting a spanking and just flew across the room and onto his lap. There I put my arms around his neck and whispered, “Don’t cry, Daddy, I’m here.”
    Then Daddy put his arms about me and held me oh so tight. He didn’t say a word for a long time. We just held on to each other in silence. I think that was the first time I knew that Daddy was lonely sometimes, and I started to pray that he wouldn’t be so lonely.

    Now I must go to bed, Diary. Grandma is here to tuck me in.

    I’m back again. Grandma, Grandpa and I just ate breakfast and Grandma asked what I was going to do this morning. (Aunt Anna is going to take me roller-skating this afternoon.) I told her I was going to write everything down about yesterday so I’d never forget if I lived to be as old as her and Grandpa, and so, here I am.
    Where was I? Oh, yes.
    As I grew older, Daddy and I did everything together. Well, almost everything. I still couldn’t go on all his business trips, but I have gotten to go on many. One time we went to Hawaii! The beach was so warm and the water was so blue and we had such a wonderful time that neither of us wanted to go home again.

    I recall hearing people talking about me since I was little. It might have been because Daddy wasn’t very good at doing hair, so mine was usually a mess unless Aunt Anna did it, and my clothes, though they were clean, were often wrinkly. I didn’t care about that, but the talk bothered me. It was as though they thought I couldn’t hear when I was standing right near them or something because they would say to each other, “That child needs a mother’s hand.”
    And the other would reply, “I’ve told Paul that many times (Paul is my Daddy’s name), but he always says they get by.”
    Now I never thought that kind of talk was very nice. I mean Daddy was right. We were getting along, and just fine too. But that was before I turned nine.

Do you like it so far?

Will you be back next Friday for Part 2?

Even the Beasts - Part 3

Good Morning Friday Fiction Fans,
How has your week been? Mine has been busy, but good. Here's a glimpse of it.

Last Friday I told you I was at a conference. It's a favorite conference to go to and this year was even better because on Saturday I was able to meet three of my blog readers in person! :) :) (It was very good to meet and visit with you all! Thanks for coming by the booth.)
Sunday found us driving home in time to eat lunch at church before heading the rest of the way home. It was delightful to get home.
Monday was spent trying to catch up on things and working on my long list of "to do" things.
Tuesday was my sister's birthday and my parents' anniversary. So, my brother's family met us at Andy's Frozen Custard after lunch. It sure was fun! The kiddos all (except the little guy) had chocolate cones. What a mess their faces were. :)
On Wednesday morning I was going to work on mowing the yard before breakfast but when I went down, it started raining. So I had to wait. But my dad ended up mowing part of it for me. Then I finished it after breakfast. We've had so much rain that it seems that every time we go to a conference I have to mow when I get home.
Thursday, that was yesterday wasn't it? Well, we had a huge rain storm in the morning! I did get quite a few things done. I even wrote in the evening finishing one short story and working some on TCR-4.

I haven't mentioned it yet, but my Triple Creek Ranch books are going to be at the OCEAN conference in OR later this month! If you are going to be attending, stop by the "Homeschool Authors" booth and take a look. I've been trying to get ready for that as I had to design a flyer with info about my books so I can mail them to the one in charge of the booth.

Thank you girls for your comments on last weeks part. I was going to reply, but was too busy. I did enjoy them though. And now you get to read the end of the story. I hope you'll tell me what you think of it. :) Enjoy!

Even the Beasts

Part 3

     “Let’s have our Bible reading this morning before I go hitch up the team, Val.” It was morning and Harold had come in from milking the cow and breakfast had been finished.
    Mrs. Manning, turning from the cupboard where she had put away the clean dishes, sat down in her rocking chair without a word. She was tired and the very thought of the long, lonely days ahead of her nearly unnerved her.
    “Praise ye the Lord . . . Praise the Lord from the earth, . . . beasts, and all cattle; creeping things, and flying fowl . . . both young men, and maidens; old men, and children: Let them praise the name of the Lord.” There was a moment of silence after Harold finished the Psalm and had offered a short but heartfelt prayer. “I guess I’ll head out and hitch up the horses now,” Mr. Manning remarked quietly. Standing up he placed the Bible carefully on the mantel and bent to kiss Valerie. “You can take things easy with me gone, Dear,” he said.
    Summoning up her courage, Valerie looked up and smiled. She would not have her husband know just how worried she was.
    Heading out to the barn, Harold whistled. It was another lovely morning, though not as beautiful as yesterday. Still, the horses ought to make good time. Perhaps they could reach town early and he would only be gone two and a half days. As he rounded the corner of the barn, a large, tawny form came springing from the corner of the corral.
    Harold only had time to fling his arms up to protect his face and neck as he exclaimed, “Scat!” before the full weight of the mountain lion slammed into his chest and felled him like a tree under the woodsman’s ax.

    The next thing he knew, someone was bathing his face with water and calling his name. Feeling bewildered, confused and not fully aware of what had happened, Harold opened his eyes and moaned.
    “Oh, Harold!”
    With a feeble push at the hand dousing him with water, he blinked rapidly and then gazed in puzzlement into his wife’s anxious face.
    “What happened?” he murmured.
    “I’m not sure,” Valerie answered. “You came out to hitch up the team but you didn’t come back. At last I got anxious and came out to find you lying here unconscious. Oh, Harold, I was so afraid you were dead!” And the poor, frightened woman burst into tears.
    This seemed to have the effect of rousing Harold from his half stupor, for with a struggle, he pushed himself into a sitting posture, though his head spun for a minute, and put an arm about his wife. “I’m all right now, Val,” he whispered. “I think a cup of tea will complete the cure. Come on now, don’t cry.”
    “Are you sure you aren’t dead?” Valerie whispered.
    “Well, I don’t feel dead, but my head aches. Come on, let’s go to the house.”
    Carefully Harold stood up and with the steadying aid of Valerie’s arm, he stumbled back to the house where he sank down onto the first chair he came to. After feeling his head, Harold discovered a rather large lump on the back of it where he had struck the ground and soon Valerie had a cool compress on it.
    At last Valerie spoke. “Harold, what happened?”
    Drawing a deep breath, he replied, “It was Scat.”
    “Again?”
    “Again. I saw him spring at me from the corral but was unable to get out of the way.”
    “What did he do to you?” Valerie’s face was pale.
    “Nothing but launch himself at me. I think he wanted to play, but he’s too large for that kind of game anymore.”
    “I should say so! What are you going to do?”
    “As soon as I feel a little more steady, I’m going to take the gun and go looking for him. I can’t leave here with him prowling around. Even if he just wants to play. What if he had sprung at you when I was gone?” This he asked as Valerie looked reproachfully at him.
    “But, Harold,” she protested, “how could you shoot Scat? He’s just doesn’t know better. After all, he’s only a baby.”
    “Was a baby, you mean,” Harold corrected. “Val, Scat’s nearly full grown and even if he doesn’t know better, he soon won’t just want to play. He’s growing dangerous.”
    Valerie said no more. There was nothing to say for she too could see the wisdom of Harold’s words though she wished it didn’t have to be so.

    All day long Harold Manning spent searching for that mountain lion, but only a few footprints could he find. Warily he went out to feed the horses and cow that evening, taking his rifle with him. There was a chance that Scat had come back and Harold wanted to be ready. However, everything was peaceful and the barn was shut up for the night when Harold returned to the house.
    As the couple were sitting around the cheery fire that evening, for the nights were still cool though the days were so pleasant, Valerie gave a gasp and dropped her mending.
    Looking up in surprise, Harold saw her face pale and heard her rapid breathing. “Valerie, what is it? What’s wrong?”
    “The baby,” she gasped, “it’s coming!”
    “Now?”
    Valerie could only nod.

    Several hours later, a pale and tired, but quite happy Valerie, lay in the bed with a little bundle beside her. As she lay silently gazing into the sleeping face of her newborn son, her mind repeated a few verses that Harold had read that morning. “Praise the Lord from the earth . . . Beasts and all cattle . . . Let them praise the name of the Lord.”
    “Harold,” whispered the new mother.
    “Yes, Dear,” came a soft answer and a moment later Harold was bending over the bed to look into the faces of the two most precious things to him on earth.
    “I think God sent Scat to us,” were the unexpected words.
    “What?”
    “Harold, God created the beasts to praise him  as well as man and I think Scat was sent to us yesterday and today.”
    Sitting down beside her, Harold took one of her hands in his. “Val, I’m not sure I understand what you mean. Why do you think that God sent that mountain lion to us?”
    “Because if he hadn’t wanted to play with you yesterday and caused you to fall from the loft, you would have driven into town. And if he hadn’t knocked you down this morning and then disappeared, you would have gone into town today. Harold, you were supposed to be in town tonight. Instead, because of Scat, you were home where you were needed. Scat saved the day because God sent him here.”
    Thinking it over, Harold realized that Valerie was right. Scat had saved the day. With that realization Harold slipped to his knees beside the bed and whispered, “Val, let us thank God that even the beasts were made to praise Him.”

Now that you've read the end, what did you think?

Did you enjoy the story?

I got the idea for this story from a friend who told me about some friends of theirs who had raised a mountain lion but had to let him go because he got so big that he knocked a guy unconscious when he jumped up on him wanting to play.