Lisa R. Howeler's Blog, page 116

Sunday Bookends: Visiting Old Stomping Grounds, preparing the garden, and very different book genres on my list

 

If I usually comment on your blog and I haven’t lately, please don’t feel slighted. I am having a horrible time keeping up with blog commenting lately. I’ve been having a few busy days with homeschool winding down, attending a writer’s conference, trying to stick to a self-set deadline for Harvesting Hope (the book formerly called The Farmers’ Sons), planning a garden again this year, running various errands, and reading books I told people I would read for them.

I was recently telling a blogging friend how my errands take a little longer than some people’s because if I want to go to a bigger store, like a Walmart or Aldi’s, for groceries, I have to drive 45 minutes to an hour either north or south or west. Friday we drove north because I had planned to pick up my new eyeglasses. Sadly, the optometrist’s office has new hours I wasn’t aware of and is now closed on Fridays. I still had to pick up a Walmart order 20 minutes further so we kept driving, back to the town we moved from last year. Because we were going to the town my son spent most of his childhood in, he asked to take his bike so he could ride around town while I picked up the order and made an Aldi’s run. 

He likes to walk or ride around town and reminisce about the good days of living in the town. I vaguely miss the place, but mainly the idea of what could have been in regards to failed family and business relationships, and friendships are at the forefront of my mind when I return.

It was nice to see the house our family lived in for about 15 years. The new owners have remodeled some and I’m glad to see it. What they’ve done to the front of the house – transforming the odd red paneling on the front of the house to blue — is what I always wanted to do when we lived there.

My children commented several times Friday that the town had been a good town to live in and that they miss the house. Sometimes I do miss the house, but I don’t miss the town much at all, especially now that the place is being infiltrated even more by drug dealers and addicts. My husband said he has been writing up a lot of police briefs for the newspaper he works at related to drug incidents in that area recently.

Last weekend I helped my dad and family rototill and prepare the space for my garden in between sessions of an online writer’s conference I was able to attend via zoom. The two main speakers for the event were James Rubart and Rachel Hauck, well-known Christian fiction writers. I plan to write a blog post about the event later this week. The conference was so much fun I am saving up money for another virtual conference being held in Philadelphia in August.

As for the garden, I hope to pick up the seeds and plants this week, but I can’t plant anything until we install the fencing around it. Otherwise the deer will eat my plants. For now my cat and probably all the neighborhood cats are using my raised garden beds as their litter boxes. Little Miss and I have decided to plant potatoes, summer squash, carrots, beets, cucumbers and maybe green beans. We probably don’t have the space for all that, but we’ll see.

What I’m Reading

I finished The Sowing Season by Katie Powner last week and really enjoyed it. It is the story of an unlikely friendship between a 15-year old girl and a 63-year old retired farmer. The book takes the farmer, Gerrit, through the emotions following him selling the farm he worked on his whole life, as well as various family issues that resulted from his past workaholic nature. The young girl, Rae, is dealing with her own issues stemming from her parents urging her to do well in school so she can become a lawyer like her father. Throw in a teenage crush or two and you have the makings of an engaging story that kept me reading late at night.

I started a new book this week that is similarly engaging. Love Happens at Sweetheart Farm by Dalyn Weller. 

From the back of the book: What if your pursuit of happiness robs someone you love of theirs?

 Lexi is the frazzled owner of Sweetheart Farm and B&B. Ian is a burnt-out fund manager desperate for a way out of his soulless job and an engagement he never wanted with a woman he doesn’t even like.

 And when Ian shows up at the B&B, needing space and quiet to rethink his life, there’s certainly no way this pampered rich city boy could ever be a suitable match for Lexi. But her wise and hilarious grandmother keeps sprinkling that blasted sweetheart herb everywhere and praying for lonely hearts to find love. And God listens.

I’m also still reading Kindness Goes Unpunished by Craig Johnson (A Longmire Mystery book) and Rooms by James Rubart. The Craig Johnson books are not “clean” and not my usual type of book but I am in love with the characters. Just be warned if you ever pick one up that there is swearing and some other not-so clean subject matter.

Little Miss and I finished On The Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder this week as well.

What I’m Watching

I started watching Jonathan Creek this week. I’ve heard a lot about the show over the years. I’ve only watched the first two episodes, but so far I like it. I’m watching it through AcornTV through Amazon.

Tonight I’ll be watching episode five of The Chosen, which is a crowd-funded TV series about the life of Jesus. They show the episodes on Youtube and they are available for 24 hours and then you have to download the app to watch the rest. The first three episodes are still on Youtube currently. 

I know I’ve mentioned the show here before. If you have seen other shows or movies about Jesus and didn’t like them, then you definitely have to watch this one. It’s nothing like any other show you’ve ever seen about the Bible. Here is a preview for Season Two.

What I’m Listening To

I have been listening to podcasts about fiction books or how to market books. It’s starting to make me feel very inferior in this whole book writing venture, but then I try to remind myself to just have fun, which has been my motto since I started sharing my fiction here on the blog.

I’ve also been listening to Cory Asbury’s live album.

What I’m Writing

Last week I shared two chapters of The Farmer’s Sons (Harvesting Hope), one on Friday and one on Saturday.

On Thursday I shared a Randomly Thinking post.

So there’s my week in review. How about yours? What are you reading, watching, listening to, writing, or doing? Let me know in the comments. 

Special Fiction Saturday: The Farmers’ Sons (Harvesting Hope) Chapter 10

Welcome to another edition of The Farmers’ Sons, which has been renamed Harvesting Hope for it’s novel release at the end of the summer. This is a serial fiction, which I share each Friday and ocassionally Saturday.

If you didn’t catch it yesterday, I shared Chapter 9 yesterday for Fiction Friday. To catch up with the rest of the story click HERE.

Chapter 10

Jason stared in horror at Tom’s pale face and motionless body. He reached out slowly then jerked his hand back, startled, as Tom groaned and slowly rolled to his back. Tom’s voice rose barely above a whisper as he moved his hand around to touch his own side.

“When did you Tanner’s install a train in your back pasture?”

“Tom, I’m so sorry. He almost never charges like that. Maybe once every couple years.”

Tom laughed softly then wince. “We must have really pissed him off then.”

Jason lifted Tom’s hand, saw red drops staining the ground, and swallowed hard. Old Bert had hit his mark, but Jason wasn’t sure how much damaged he’d managed to inflict.

“I’m going to call for help. Don’t move, okay?”

Tom nodded weakly. “It’s probably not as bad as it looks.” He winced again. “Or feels.”

With the phone cradled between his cheek and shoulder, Jason waited for 911 to pick up while he gently lifted Tom to get a better look at his back. Red was spreading across Tom’s shirt. Jason pulled off his own shirt and bunched it up against Tom’s back, pressing it firmly in place while he gave 911 his location. He hoped the pressure would stop the bleeding.

The dispatcher gave him directions on how Tom should lay until the ambulance arrived. “Keep him still as much as you can,” she said. “There may be broken bones or internal bleeding. The ambulance will be there soon. And keep the pressure on.”

Jason was glad to have the dispatcher on the other end of the phone because he was having a hard time remembering his training as he watched Tom close his eyes. First his dad last year, now Tom. It was a trend he didn’t welcome.

“They’ll be here soon, Tom.”

Tom nodded and grimaced.  “It hurts about as bad as that kidney stone I passed last year, but I’m okay.”

Jason did his best to cover his rising panic with a laugh. “I remember that stone. Ellie was beside herself with worry.”

Tom closed his eyes briefly. “Yeah, she thought I had cancer.”

Jason grinned. “How did you know that? I thought she only told me that.”

“I know her too well,” Tom answered. “It was written all over her face.” He shifted his arm under his head. His shirt and jeans were coated in a layer of dirt. “Don’t blame yourself for this, Jason. It wasn’t your fault.”

Jason looked down the road, willing the ambulance to come faster.

“Jason, don’t ignore me.” Tom’s voice was firm. “I’ve known you long enough to know you’re going to blame yourself. This was no one’s fault. Except ornery Old Bert’s.”

Jason was grateful when he heard the sound of a car approaching and didn’t even mind that it was his truck instead of the ambulance. At least this way he didn’t have to answer Tom.

Molly jumped from the truck and approached them quickly. The color had already drained from her face. She took on a grayish hue as she kneeled next to Tom.

“The ambulance is on the way,” Jason told her then briefed her and Alex on what had happened.

“Jason told me you took Liz to the hospital.” Tom’s voice was tinged with pain, but he was smiling. “Do we have a new resident in Spencer Valley?”

Alex shrugged. “No new baby yet. False alarm.”

Jason was glad for the chance to laugh, at least a little. “I told her she wasn’t in labor.”

Molly unhooked the flannel shirt she’d had tied around her middle and balled it into a pillow for Tom.

“You Tanners sure now how to take care of a guest.” Tom laughed then winced again.

After Tom was loaded into the ambulance a half an hour later, Jason sat back along the dirt road, his arms propped on his knees. He stared at his trembling hands, stained with Tom’s blood. Letting out a shaky breath, he closed his eyes and clenched his fists, fighting nausea and dizziness.

“I’ll head up and tell Rena,” Molly said, squeezing his shoulder. “I’ll also call Ellie.”

He nodded and looked up to see her holding a paper towel. He took it and worked at scrubbing the blood from his skin.

“Come on.” Alex held his hand out. “We’ll drop Molly off at her truck and head back to the hospital.” He smacked Jason on his bare back as he pulled him to his feet. “I’m starting to get use to the place. Let’s stop and get you a shirt first, though. We don’t need your six pack causing pandemonium among the nurses.”

ELLIE’S HAND SHOOK she opened the door to her car and stepped out into the hospital parking lot. The black asphalt was still damp from the passing thunderstorms earlier in the day.

Her legs wobbled under her and she wasn’t sure she’d make it to the emergency room entrance without collapsing. She had rushed across town from her apartment, calling Judi as she drove.

She’d tried reaching Judi on her cell three times in the last fifteen minutes. She wasn’t picking up. She tried again before walking inside the hospital.

“Judi, where are you? Pick up!”

Voice mail. Again. When Judi had said she was going to visit friends, Ellie had thought she meant locally. Maybe she’d meant her friends in the city, not the ones she’d left behind in Spencer.

The hallway leading to the emergency room was blocked by a tall white desk with a receptionist sitting at it.

The receptionist didn’t look up from her computer as Ellie approached.

“My father was being brought in my ambulance. Can you tell me if he’s here yet?”

Shoulder length, straight black hair, featuring a solitary purple streak down the left side, framed the receptionist’s face. “Name?”

“Thomas Lambert.”

Immaculate, extended hot pink fingernails clicked over the computer keys. “He’s here. Exam room three.”

“Which way?”

The woman, who could have been anywhere from 30 to 50, pushed her tongue through light pink gum and blew a bubble out and up to the height of her nose. Ellie’s gaze focused on her dark purple lipstick as the bubble popped, the gum’s remnants spreading over the woman’s lips. The receptionist shook her head and sucked the gum back in her mouth, her eyes on the computer, her index finger pointing at Ellie’s left shoulder. “You need to wait in the waiting room across the hall. I’ll let you know when you’re allowed back.”

“But it’s my —”

The woman’s finger retained it’s original position while her other hand glided over the surface of the keyboard and her gaze remained on the computer screen.

Ellie emitted a frustrated huff of air as she walked into the waiting room, sitting down in a blue plush chair with tan wooden arms. She tapped her foot impatiently against the freshly cleaned linoleum. An elderly woman sitting across from her held a purse on her lap, hugging it to her chest. Her chin rested on her chest and a soft snore whiffled from her nose.

Ten minutes passed before Ellie heard the emergency room door slide open again. She watched the door expectedly. Molly had said Rena had declined to be driven to the hospital. She was driving herself. It wasn’t her though.

Her stomach tightened at the sight of Jason and Alex standing at the front desk. She should have expected them, but her mind had been on her father’s condition not on the chance she might see her ex-boyfriend.  Ex-boyfriend. Had she just thought that? Well, he was her ex now. Wasn’t he?

She prayed to God they wouldn’t come into the waiting room.

It was one of many unanswered prayers she’d expressed lately. They walked in a few moments later, Jason’s gaze shifting away from hers quickly as he sat in a chair to her right, against the wall..

Alex sat next to her. “Any news?”

She shook her head, keeping her eyes downcast. She couldn’t help noticing spots of red on the legs of Jason’s jeans. A lump formed at the base of her throat. “No. Not yet.”

Several minutes of awkward silence followed. Alex tapped his hand on the arm of the chair and Jason leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor, periodically adjusting his brown John Deere cap.

“I told him I could handle it.” Jason’s voice, barely audible, broke the silence. He didn’t look up from the waiting room floor.

Ellie folded her hands in her lap, her gaze focused on her red and blue slip on shoes.

“Well, he’s always been stubborn,” she said finally, feeling like she should say something.

Alex laughed, rubbed a hand across his unshaven jaw. “Guess it runs in the family.”

Ellie and Jason both looked at him sharply. He pushed himself up in the chair and cleared  his throat. “Too soon?”

The receptionist materialized in the doorway like a haunting visage, tapping a pen on the doorframe.

“You with Tom Lambert?”

Ellie and Jason stood, speaking in unison “Yes.”

The receptionist pointed the pen at Ellie. “You’re the daughter, right?”

Ellie nodded.

“You can come back.” The melancholic figure pointed the pen at Jason. “You can wait here. Unless you’re the son?”

Jason shook his head. He wasn’t, but he’d almost been his son-in-law. The realization seemed especially painful at the moment.

Ellie stepped around Jason, pausing when his hand touched her forearm. Lifting her eyes, she stared into glistening green eyes she’d lost herself in so many times before.

“I’m sorry.” Her lips parted to respond, but she wasn’t sure what to say. What was he apologizing for? Her dad? What had happened in college?

“I shouldn’t have let him help,” he whispered.

She swallowed hard, nodded. Part of her thought that after their break-up Jason would simply disappear from her life, her family’s life. Obviously it was an absurd thought. They lived in a small farming community, he lived down the road from her parents’ house, and they’d all known each other for years. Of course, they’d interact with each other in some way. Even in ways that would lead to physical and emotional pain.

Her voice was nearly toneless. “Okay.”

The word fell flat against what she could tell was a sincere apology. She hated it, but she didn’t have time to focus on his feelings. Her father was laying in an emergency department exam room, and she had no idea what his condition was. How Jason felt wasn’t her priority right now.

His hand slipped from her arm as she walked toward the exit of the waiting room. At the same moment she entered the hallway, her mother walked through the emergency room doors. She reached for Rena’s hands to steady herself, provide distraction from the way she’d walked away from Jason as if she didn’t believe he was actually sorry.

Somehow, at that moment, for so much more than what had happened to her dad,  sorry wasn’t enough.

Fiction Friday: The Farmers’ Sons (Harvesting Hope) Chapter 9

I left everyone on a bit of a cliffhanger last week. And I think I shocked a few people. Now, readers, don’t freak out, but today’s post won’t tell you what happened to Tom. You’ll have to read the Special Fiction Saturday tomorrow to find that out. *wink*

To catch up with the rest of the story click HERE, or find the link at the top of the page.

****

Chapter 9

“Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins.” Ellie shoved her mother’s prescription in her purse. “I’ll be sure to tell Mom ‘hello’ for you.”

She hated the hospital, but this was where her mother’s doctor had called her prescription in to so here she was standing in the building that made her tense up every time she visited. It wasn’t the hospital staff’s fault that her body had revolted on her, of course. This was simply where she first learned she may not have the future she’d hoped for.

Walking out of the pharmacy she stopped short when she saw Molly, Alex, and Liz walking toward her. Liz wasn’t so much as walking as she was waddling at this point. Molly looked amazing with her hair piled on her head in a messy bun, wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a comfortable T-shirt. She’d lost weight since Ellie had seen her last, but it wasn’t the weight loss that made her beautiful. Something else had lit a spark in her.

Ellie glanced at Alex walking beside Molly, his familiar beat up black cowboy hat pulled low. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a clean gray t-shirt. He’d slid his hand close to Molly’s as they walked, and their fingers were intertwined now. Being in love looked good on Molly, even if Ellie thought Alex wasn’t right for her.

She looked over her shoulder, thought about darting inside the pharmacy, but knew it was too late. She’d never get through the doorway and behind the rack of cards before they saw her.

“Ellie, hey!”

Yep. Spotted already.

She simultaneously loved and hated the way Molly greeted her as if nothing had happened, as if she and Jason were still engaged and Ellie was still about to be part of the Tanner family.

While she’d once thought feeling Molly’s arms around her would be strange or awkward, it wasn’t, not this time and not the two other times Molly had hugged her since the breakup. The hug was familiar and genuine.

“Hey, guys.” She glanced at Liz. “Everything okay?”

Alex shrugged a shoulder, jerking his head toward Liz. “False alarm.”

“Oh.” Ellie winced sympathetically, her eyes on Liz. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re ready for the  baby to come already.”

Liz nodded, her face etched with exhaustion. “That’s an understatement.”

Molly’s eyes focused on Ellie with concern. “Is everything okay with you?” She then quickly waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind. I’m sorry. That was rude of me. It’s none of my business.”

“Oh, no,” Ellie responded. “It’s totally fine. My mom’s allergy doctor called in a prescription strength medicine for her. The over the counter one hasn’t been working. He thought this was her regular pharmacy, so he called it in here and since I live in town — well, it just made more sense for me to grab it for her.”

Of course, Judi could have grabbed it for her instead, but Judi was out with friends. Again. She didn’t bother to tell Molly that, however. Judi’s repeated avoidance of responsibility wasn’t a topic Ellie wanted to focus on at the moment. Or ever.

Alex’s phone dinged and he slid it out of his pocket. “Voice mail from Robert. Hold on, I’d better check it. He must have called when we were in labor and delivery.”

He stepped off to one side, leaving Ellie feeling awkward and struggling for a way to excuse herself.

What do I even say to Molly? ‘How’s it going at the farm store I quit my job at when I broke up with your brother?’ ‘How’s it going with Alex who doesn’t even go to church with you?’ ‘How much of the conversation did you hear that day in the church parking lot?’ ‘Do you hate me for breaking up with Jason?’

Luckily, she didn’t have to figure it out. Alex stepped back next to Molly.

“Your dad needs us to help Jason with Old Bart. The fence is down in the upper pasture and Bart’s running down French Creek Road again.”

Molly groaned softly. “We’d better head back. We’ll drop Liz off at the apartment first.”

“I can take Liz back to the apartment.”

Ellie blurted the offer out before thinking it through. The words startled even herself.

Liz smiled wearily. “You don’t have to do that, Ellie.”

Molly agreed. “We can drop her off. I’m sure you have to get back to work or —”

“I’m actually going that way. It’s no problem.” She’d been given an out and she hadn’t taken it.  What was she thinking? Stuck in her car with a pregnant Liz while struggling with her own lack of children? “Really. I was on my way back to my place for lunch and, as you know, your apartment is on the way.”

Molly thanked Ellie and hugged her again. Ellie felt the sincerity and love in her embrace and was struck with a sense of loss again like she had at church. This time her soul not only mourned her separation from Jason but the entire Tanner family. As she watched Alex and Molly walk toward the parking lot, she pulled her lower lip between teeth, her thoughts drifting to Jason.

She knew how vicious that bull could be. She remembered running across the field with Jason one hot July day, first panicking as Bart barreled at them, then laughing until their sides hurt when they jumped the fence and fell into the high grass on the other side, safe from his sharp horns.

“I can’t believe I was only having Braxton Hicks,” Liz huffed as she sat in the passenger side. “I mean, why didn’t the midwife tell me there was such a thing as pre-emptive contractions? And that they could hurt almost as much as the real thing?”

Ellie tried to ignore Liz rubbing her swollen belly. She swallowed hard. There was that resentment toward Liz again.  No, that wasn’t true. Her feelings of resentment were toward God, not Liz.

Shame burned her cheeks and she tried to think of something to talk about on the short drive to the apartment to distract herself from her feelings.

“So, do you have everything you need for when you bring the baby home?”

Liz sighed, leaning her elbow against the window and her cheek against her hand. “I think so. We have a crib, a rocking chair, and my mom suggested a baby carrier in addition to the stroller. We have the physical items we need at least.” Ellie glance at her, saw her chewing at the inside of her cheek before she spoke again. “Ellie, I’m scared. What if I don’t have what I need emotionally to be a mom?”

Ellie’s knuckles faded to white as her grip tightened on the steering wheel. She drew in a slow, deep breath. It was time to push aside the discomfort and put on her Bible study leader hat.

“I don’t think any of us feel we have it all together, Liz.” She turned on to the street leading to Liz’s apartment. “I’m sure once you’re holding that baby, you’ll feel different. Molly and your parents will be there to help. And of course, God. You won’t be alone in this, Liz.”

Liz let out a shaky breath. “I know. I do. I guess, it’s just — well, I look at someone like you and you’re so put together. You’re great with kids and adults and you’re — I don’t know. You’re actually a real adult. I feel like I still have the mentality of a teenager. I mean look at me. I screwed up and did all of this life stuff in the wrong order.”

Ellie pulled her car into a parking space in front of the insurance business Molly and Liz’s apartment was located over. Shifting it into park she turned toward Liz, her chest tight. If only Liz knew what her life was really like; that she might act put together but inside she was a mess of contradictions. She told other women to trust God, but she didn’t do it herself. Organizing her closet and her books came easy but organizing her life was out of the realm of what she could control, and it incensed her. There were days she was smiling on the outside but screaming on the inside.

She had no one, but herself to blame for Liz or anyone else thinking she had it all together. It’s what she’d always did her best to portray. What would the ladies in her Bible study think if they knew the conflicting feelings swirling inside her — how she wanted to hug Liz and run away from her at the same time? How she wanted to thank Jesus for all she had but also scream at him for all she felt he’d with held from her? How she wanted to clutch Jason’s hair and kiss him hard, tell him she loved him despite the hurt he’d caused her as much as she wanted to beat her fists on his chest for not being open with her?

“I’m not as put together as you think, Liz. And as for doing things in the wrong order, I don’t even know what order life is supposed to go in anymore. I had a plan of how my life would go and that plan has been destroyed and rearranged so many times it isn’t even recognizable anymore.” She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes, and looked out the driver side window, hoping Liz wouldn’t see her emotion. She took a deep breath and let it out again, swallowing hard to regain her composure before she looked at Liz. “Listen, once you get some rest, your thoughts will clear, and you’ll feel a lot calmer about it all.” She reached over and took Liz’s hand, their gazes locking. “You’re going to be a great mom, Liz. God will give you what you need when you need it. He chose you to be this baby’s mama. Ask him to help you do the best job you can.”

Liz’s eyes had filled with tears as Ellie spoke. She touched a fingertip to the corner of her eye, trying to wipe a tear away, even as more spilled down her cheeks. “Thank you, El.” She accepted the tissue Ellie pulled from her purse and handed her. “I’m sorry I dumped that on you.” She laughed. “I clearly need a nap.”

Ellie smiled and squeezed her hand. “Do you need any help getting in?”

Liz shook her head. “No. I’ve taken up too much of your time already. I’ll be fine.” She crumpled the soggy tissue in her hand and reached for the door handle. “Thanks again.”

Watching Liz head toward her apartment, Ellie wondered where those encouraging words had even come from. A few moments before she spoke them, she’d been feeling the crushing pain of her possible infertility, asking God to forgive her for being jealous of Liz. Through the haze of jealousy, though, she still admired Liz for continuing her pregnancy without a father in the picture, for having the humility to admit she was worried about what kind of mother she would be. She did believe Liz would make a good mother, that the lessons she’d learned from her struggles prior and during her pregnancy would help her parenting more than it would harm it.

Maybe it would be the same for her one day. Maybe she would see beauty from ashes. For now, though, the ashes seemed only to be piling up around her as her expectations of a future with a husband and children burned down around her.

Randomly Thinking: Aliens, smart dogs, and leg hair

Welcome to a post of my random thoughts. Enter at your own risk.

Every night when I let our dog out one last time, I lock both the outside and inside door. Honestly, I’m not afraid of humans breaking in. In the back of my mind, I keep thinking that locking the door will keep the bear from getting in. I know. It’s ridiculous. Bears don’t even have opposable thumbs. It is even more ridiculous because no one in the neighborhood has seen the bear this year. Plus, bears are not known for breaking into homes. There is always a first time, though.

***

Every other day I walk past the fridge, open it, and take out the maple syrup bottle and take a swig, like it’s whiskey. I’m not addicted. I can stop anytime I want to.

***

I think I’ve mentioned here before that our older cat, Pixel, likes to jump up on our bathroom sink and wait for me to turn it on so she can get a drink. She’s been doing this for a couple of years now, shortly after we adopted her. The other night, though, she’d had her drink when I brought our dog, Zooma, from outside and we went up to get ready for bed. Zooma walked into the bathroom and looked at the faucet and then me, like she was expecting something. I told her I hadn’t brought any food up and then it hit me. She didn’t want food.

“Is your water dish empty? No. That can’t be it. You can’t be that smart.”

Well, apparently my dog is Lassie because I went downstairs and her bowl (which she shares with the cats) is bone dry.

“What’s that Zooma? There’s no water in your bowl?”

Not only did I fill it to the brim but we decided we are buying another bowl so our animals have plenty of water when are too distracted by life to properly care for them.

***

Interesting that the US government is claiming there will be information presented to Congress in a month about UFOs. This comes in the midst of people pouring over the Southern border, gas shortages, a senile president (in office after the bi-polar psychopath president), government officials trying to separate us by race, violence in the Middle East, people screaming at each other about who is and isn’t vaccinated, a pandemic (was it really, though?I don’t even know anymore), weird information coming out about who did and didn’t really die from SARS2 (yes, there was a SARS1), Republicans and Democrats always pointing fingers at each other and playing the victim (seriously, I’m about to file as an independent), and our government funneling money to a terrorist nation.

Distraction anyone? Because otherwise, why announce that a report is coming out in a month? And why suddenly, after years of saying there are no such things as UFOs, the government says there are? And why are all the photos and videos always fuzzy, even though we have millions of people with high definition lenses and cameras who have yet to have photographed these same UFOs so we can see them without the grain?

Lockdowns are being lifted, masks are being taken off, people aren’t dying in droves from a virus so our politicians (of both parties) need another way to control us and that control always comes via fear. Enter the aliens.

Slight of hand is a tricky thing.

So is gaslighting.

***

I finally started watching Jonathan Creek on the BritBox app through Amazon. I’ll let you know what I think of it in a future edition of Sunday Bookends. I didn’t write Sunday bookends last week because I forgot and then when I remembered, I realized nothing exciting had happened that I could write about. I was even still reading the same books from the previous week.

***

In my last Randomly Thinking post I joked that I was worried that our neighbor’s had installed some taller trees between our properties because of something my crazy family had done. It turns out that the husband ordered the trees thinking they were a lot smaller and when he got home from work he was shocked at their size. His wife said he told her, “I’m going to have to cut those down in a couple of years! They’ll be huge.” It totally sounded like something me or my husband would do – order the wrong size trees.

***

 Quote from my son last night after he started coughing: “Dude, I just accidentally inhaled my leg hair.” That’s something I never thought I’d hear.

***

Those are a few of my random thoughts for the week. What are some of yours? Let me know in the comments.

Fiction Friday: The Farmers Sons (Harvesting Hope) Chapter 8

Here we are at Chapter 8 of The Farmers’ Sons, which will be called Harvesting Hope when it publishes. I may be making the chapters a little bit shorter here on the blog so they aren’t time consuming and some who have missed chapters can catch up.

If you don’t know, I share these chapters as a work in progress, so there will most likely be typos and plot holes, etc. If you notice them, please feel free to share with me in private or in the comments. Also feel free to share with me your thoughts on the story so far, on the characters, and on where you think the story should go next.

To read Molly’s story from the first book of this series, download a copy on Amazon or read it through Kindle Unlimited. To read the other parts of this story click HERE or find a link at the top of the page.

Chapter 8

Jason watched the truck disappear down the road for a moment before turning back to the tire. He worked a bolt loose, saying a quick prayer for Liz. Quick prayers were all the prayers he allowed time for these days. Any longer and his thoughts spiraled out of control. A cool breeze brushed his face as he worked, the temperature lower after the storms moved through.

The crunch of tires on gravel brought his head up. There was little chance he didn’t know whoever was driving by. Everyone knew everyone in this county. When he recognized the old blue pick-up pulling up behind Molly’s truck, his heart sank.

Tom Lambert, his dark brown hair speckled with gray, leaned an arm on the wall of Molly’s truck bed. “Hey, Jason. Need any help?”

Jason rolled the flat tire off to one side. “Actually, I’m almost done. Appreciate the offer, though.”

He kept his head down, afraid to look at Ellie’s father for more than a few moments, afraid to see the anger that might be in his eyes, anger reserved for Jason.

Tom laughed and shook his head, tapping the side of the truck. “I know this old truck reminds Molly of Ned, but she really needs a new one. I’m amazed she’s been able to keep it running this long.”

Jason nodded with a smile, rolling the spare tire in place. “Yeah, we’ve tried talking her into scrapping it, but she’s not interested.”

Jason was trying to match the lightness he heard in Tom’ tone but he couldn’t help wondering how Ellie’s dad actually felt about him. How much did he know about the reason for their break-up?

“Here, let me get that.” Tom kneeled down and reached for the bolt that had slipped from Jason’s hand and hit the dirt.

Jason nodded his appreciation, taking the bolt and fitting it back onto its spot.

Tom sat there a few seconds, squatting next to the truck before he spoke. “Listen, Jason, I don’t know what happened between you and Ellie, but I just want you to know that Rena and I still consider you a part of our family. If you ever need to talk, we’re both here for you.”

Jason wondered if Ellie’s parents would feel the same affection for him if they knew why Ellie had broke things off.

He cleared his throat and tightened the last bolt, standing at the same moment Tom stood. Looking into the eyes of the father of the woman he’d hurt, he didn’t see anger there. He saw kindness and compassion and he hated it. He should see disgust in this man’s eyes, disgust over how Jason had lied to Ellie for so long, how he had failed the moral code he’d set for himself.

 Despite the tension he felt, or maybe because of it, Jason couldn’t stop a soft laugh from escaping as he pulled his eyes from Tom’ and wiped his hand on a rag. “Thank you. I really appreciate that. I’m not sure how comfortable I would feel talking to my ex-girlfriend’s parents about my past mistakes, but the offer still means a lot.”

Jason heard good-natured sincerity in Tom’ laugh. “I understand, but really, Jason.” He placed his hand firmly on Jason’s shoulder. “We love you. I can’t imagine anything you could have done that would be bad enough for us to ever not love you.”

His words were like a knife to Jason’s heart. “You sure about that?” he wanted to ask. He wanted to tell his man about his past, about that night with Lauren, about his guilt, about keeping it from Ellie. He wanted Tom Lambert to hate him as much as he hated himself.

The ringtone of his cellphone startled him, but in a good way. He had never been more thankful for an interruption.

“Hey, Dad, what’s up?”

“Hey, just got a call from Marcia. The fence is down in the upper pasture and Old Bart’s gotten out. He’s headed down the dirt road toward the Patrick’s house.”

“Okay. I’ll go wrangle him and get the fix back up.”

“Better call Brad to help you out. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to move fast enough to help.”

Brad. Yeah. Right.

“Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

He slid his finger over the end call button and slid the phone into his back pocket. “Hey, I’ve got to head out. Aunt Marcia says the bull is out of the fence. I need to head up and get him back in.”

“Old Bart?” Tom looked down the dirt road behind him. “Which way is he headed? I’ll follow you in my truck and we can wrangle him together.”

Jason tossed the lug wrench and jack into the back of the truck. “Thanks, but I can get him. Shouldn’t take long.”

Tom turned back toward his truck. “You’re going to need someone to help you to get that fence back in if you get him inside the fence and that’s a big if. Those old guys can be ornery.”

This encounter was becoming more uncomfortable by the moment. “I really appreciate the offer, but I’m used to him and —”

Tom was standing with his hand on his truck door now, grinning. “Afraid I’ll break a hip?

Jason laughed, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “No, sir, it’s just —”

“You think I’m old.” Tom was still smiling. “I’ll have you know I’m only two years older than your dad. Come on, boy, I’ll show you how real bull wrangling is done.”

He climbed inside the truck, signaling the discussion was over. Jason let out a deep breath and climbed behind the steering wheel of Molly’s truck. Apparently, this day full of awkward moments wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

Old Bert was standing in the middle of the intersection of Drew and French Creek Road, chewing grass when Jason and Tom pulled their trucks off into the grass.

Jason exited his truck slowly, not interested in startling the 2,000 pound beast and sending him either barreling toward him or into the woods up an embankment to the left of the road. It would have been easier if he hadn’t wandered this far north and away from the main Tanner farm. As it was now, Jason would have to rope him and lead him back to the farm the old fashioned way, on foot. There was a gate to the upper field about a half a mile down the road.

He told Tom his plan and then reached for the rope he’d picked up at the farm on the way by.

Bert’s eyes were still on him when he closed the truck door with the rope in hand. Tom stepped off to one side, behind Jason. “Should I go behind him and try to move him toward you? He’s usually a pretty calm guy. He probably wouldn’t like me behind him and would step away.”

Jason shook his head. “Not sure really. He can be unpredictable at times. Better stay behind me and let me see if I can get this rope around him first.”

He was only a few steps away from Old Bert, lasso in hand, when the bull turned and ran for it, galloping up the road at a solid pace. Jason growled in frustration and followed him, again only a few steps away when Bert changed direction and darted into a wooded area to the right. Jason was close behind but not close enough to get the rope looped around him.

For such a heavy animal he sure did move swiftly. Jason had a hard time keeping up with him and almost tripped over a tree limb that had fallen and was halfway buried under old leaves.

“I’ll see if I can get ahead of him by going around that grove of trees and chase him back toward the road,” Tom called from behind him. “Distract him for me.”

Jason waved the lasso in Old Bert’s direction, hoping the bull would follow the motion of the rope instead of Tom. He did, starting toward Jason in a startled jog only when Tom crashed through the under brush behind him.

Jason swung the rope, but it slid down Old Bert’s massive side, missing his neck completely. This was nothing like the movies when cowboys rode horses, giving them the advantage of height over the bulls they were trying to corral.

Jason was surprised at Old Bert’s speed. He wasn’t referred to as Old Bert for nothing. He was reaching the end of his use as a stud bull and his legs should have been a little less flexible than they were now.

Tom leaned over slightly, his hands on his knees, breathing hard. “Well, that didn’t work.”

“It was a good idea, though,” Jason said, also breathing hard.

He looked up at Tom, at the sweat on his forehead and drenching his shirt. He’d better try to send him home. The man having a heart attack while trying to help Jason wrangle the Tanner’s bull wasn’t going to help Jason’s case with Ellie at all.

“Why don’t you head on home? I can chase him back down the road and through our fence.”

Tom shook his head. “I don’t mind trying a couple more times.” He stood, stretched his shoulders back. “It’s personal now. I don’t like the idea of that old bull beating us.”

If only Tom Lambert wasn’t as stubborn as his daughter.

It took another 20 minutes but corralling Old Bert between them, stomping their feet and yelling if he tried to dart into the woods again, finally brought them to the gate at the end of the Tanner’s field. Old Bert darted through the gate when Jason opened it, toward the pond his grandfather had built years ago next to a weeping willow.

Jason laughed softly. “He’s probably trying to get away from our shouting.”

They walked inside the gate, several feet into the pasture, chasing Old Bert further in the field to be sure he headed back further down the property. Jason still had to get him to his corral and locked back in, but he’d do that after he picked up his truck.

“I can’t figure how he gets that gate open, but I know what my project is this week.”

Tom nodded. “Fixing that gate latch, I’d guess. Or maybe packing the freezer with some extra steaks and roasts.”

Jason laughed, stopping with his hands at his waist to catch his breath. “That sounds good but he’s an old bull. That would be some pretty tough meat.”

Tom turned and looked back over the field toward the road and an old stone fence running down a short length of the border of the Tanner’s property against the road. A warm breeze filtered over the two men and Jason wondered if more storms would be coming later in the evening.

Tom nodded toward the fence, his breathing still fast, but slowing down. “Is that still the original fence down there?”

“Yeah.”

“1800s? Early 1900s?”

“We think late 1800s. Probably built by my great-great grandfather to mark the end of our property.”

They started walking toward the fence. “It’s amazing isn’t it?” Tom shook his head as he walked. “How well they built things back then. They really took their time, made sure it would stand the test of time.”

Reaching the old stones, crumbling but still in place, they stopped walking and looked at the fence that reached the level of Jason’s chest.

“They did that with everything back then,” Tom continued. “Homes, barns, even relationships.”

Jason nodded, not sure where Ellie’s father was going with this conversation, but fairly certain that he didn’t want to know.

“Holding on in the tough times can make the foundation of a relationship stronger,” Tom said. “But only if there’s a third person in the middle to help two people hold on.”

Jason pulled his cap low on his head. He didn’t want to have this conversation right now, or ever. Not with the father of the woman he loved, but now hated him. He cleared his throat, shifted his weight from one leg to the other and folded his arms across his chest. He looked at the ground, kicked at the dirt with the tip of his boot.

“Thanks for the help with Bert, Tom. I should be getting back.”

Tom nodded. Jason was glad he didn’t push the conversation any further. Tom put a foot on the old wall and climbed up it, tapping the stones with his foot as he stepped, shaking his head, still obviously amazed at the workmanship. Jason followed him for a few steps, then stopped, an unexpected sound catching his attention. Thunder maybe?      

By the time he registered it was hoofs on the ground, not thunder, Old Bert was only a hundred feet away and gaining fast.

Old Bert wasn’t usually violent but the way he lowered his head and pawed his hooves made Jason think he might have turned over a new leaf. He and Tom had to get out of this pasture. And fast.

“Tom, climb faster.”

Tom tilted his head, raised a questioning eyebrow, his back to Bert. “What’s that?”

“I said —”

It was too late. Bert was already a few feet away. Jason took off for Tom, hoping to grab him and push him over the wall, but worried he couldn’t outrun a 2,000 pound bull.

His hands were on the back of Tom’s shirt, yanking him up the stonewall when Bert reached them. A sickening crack coincided with Tom’s body flying up and over the wall. He slammed into Jason and they both fell in a heap into the road on the other side of the fence.

Grimacing as pain shot through his back, Jason was at least glad they were out of the pasture to keep them from being hit again.

“Tom?”

Ellie’s dad was eerily silent, laying on his side in the ditch behind the fence. Jason’s heart pounded hard as he sat up quickly and half crawled, half dragged himself to Tom. Pain shot through his back, but he didn’t have time to focus on it.

Oh God, please don’t let me have gotten Ellie’s dad killed.

Randomly Thinking: Cats are falling out of the sky and other random thoughts

This is my randomly thinking post where I share random thoughts from my week, two weeks, month or whenver I get around to writing the post.

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This week’s Randomly Thinking is brought to you by kittens falling out of trees.

To explain, our kitten, Scout, likes to escape outside as soon as a door opens. I don’t like her to go outside because she is so young and I’m afraid she’ll be hit by a car. Our older cat seems a little savvier about the road and she was born an outside cat so we do allow her to go out. On Monday our kitten slipped out when we went out to collect flowers off the tree next to our house. The Boy tried to catch her while I went inside the eat a late lunch. A few minutes later Little Miss came in and told me that Scout had climbed up a tree. I wasn’t too worried because I had a cat climb a tree one time and he came down on his own an hour or so later.

When I got out there I still wasn’t too worried, but the more I watched her – about 20 feet above my head or so, I noticed the limbs of this small tree didn’t really have a lot of room and since cats don’t like to crawl backward, I had a feeling that to get this cat down we would either have to find a very tall later or she was going to fall off the tiny branches.
I called my dad to see if he had a ladder tall enough for my son to climb up and reach her (I mean, I wasn’t going up there and my husband was at work, but he wasn’t going up there either) and while we were on the phone she started to slide backward, couldn’t get her grip, and began to fall, bouncing off tree limbs on her way down. She did not do what cats usually do which is land on their feet. She landed on her side with a thud, and I rushed to her while she heaved breaths out with her tongue out and I thought she was breathing her last breaths.

She laid there several moments with me petting her, wondering if her back was broken because she wasn’t moving her back legs. Then, without warning, she darted up and tried to run into the bushes. My dad and I guessed she had knocked the wind out of herself. We got her inside and in less than 10 minutes she was running all over the house, showing us she had not broken anything in her fall and that is a total pain in the bottom.

She’s also down to 8 lives so we have put her on notice.

I’m trying not to be paranoid but the day after our kitten incident, our neighbors behind us installed six or seven huge pine trees as a barrier between our house and theirs. We’ve been here about a year. I’m not sure what we might have done to offend them, but the man did wave to me on the way back from his daily walk so hopefully, the trees are just something they wanted for aesthetic purposes and not to try to keep us away from them.

I had an eye doctor appointment Wednesday with the daughter of the eye doctor I went to for my first pair of glasses when I was 11, and then for years afterward. The original eye doctor passed away several years ago. Not only did his daughter take over his business, but his son is also working there as an eyeglasses specialist and has been there since I was in college or maybe before.

Everyone is wearing masks, of course, but I can still tell that this guy has not aged at all in 20-some years. I go there every few years and he still looks the same. I told my son this and he has now nicknamed him the Vampire Eyeglasses Guy. I may tell him that when I go to pick up my glasses.

Some women would consider this guy attractive. He has broad shoulders, very tall, dark, curly hair, and blue eyes. He doesn’t do much for me, but I used to watch women just fawn all over him when he told them how nice he looked in the glasses they were trying on. They thought he was flirting and I always figured he was simply trying to sell eyeglasses.

I am trying to write a flash fiction piece based on a love song and I’m having a horrible time. I have a few days to finish it. While looking for a song I fell into a country song rabbit hole on Youtube, listening mostly to old Collin Raye songs, which I cried over because so many of his songs are so sweet. I’ll post links to a couple that got me here.

I also re-discovered one of my favorite Travis Tritt songs, which always made me laugh way back in the 90s. Kids now, of course, would ask, “Why would she need a quarter to call someone?”

“You break everything lately,” my daughter told me one day last week.
She was right. In the span of two days, I broke the front of a drawer, the key fob for my van key, and the cover of my laptop. A few days before that I thought I broke the towel hanger in the bathroom, but my husband said he actually knocked that off the wall the day before I did. It turned out it just needed a screw tightened and it was fixed.
After my daughter announced this, my son asked me not to touch him so he wouldn’t shatter. I didn’t think that was very funny, but just in case I chose not to hug him that day.

My editing software tries to change my writing to be more inclusive now. It’s really annoying because when I write waitress, they want me to change it to server. When I had a character say, “That girl is hot,” they preferred I say that she is passionate or wonderful.

Here is a pet peeve of mine: websites that feature clothes for plus size women but show the clothes on models who are not plus size. Yeah. Not helpful. I’m glad that “fat shirt” looks good on the skinny lady, but what about this “fat lady”?? Grrrr

My son, husband, and I watched The Towering Inferno with Paul Newman, Steve McQueen and several other high name actors this week. O.J. Simpson was also in the movie but halfway through he disappeared after rescuing a cat. We assumed he must have died, but he shows up at the end, at the bottom of the tower. My son said, “Oh, hey there, O.J. How many women did you kill to get down here?”

My cats were extremely affectionate yesterday. I started wondering if maybe I have some horrible disease and I don’t know about it, but they do. It was probably just because it has been unseasonably cold here this week.
The kitten climbed on my chest four to five times, when normally she only climbs on me a couple times a week. She likes to curl up on my chest, even though she’s getting too big to do so. She might only lay down for ten minutes tops but it’s enough time to get her cuddle and pet time in.
So, after she was done cuddling, our older, fatter cat climbed up and kneaded my stomach and let me pet her for around ten minutes as well. Later in the day the fat cat, as I call her, came back again and dozed for a few minutes on my chest. I have no idea what was going on, but it was nice to feel loved by them, even if they did leave quite a bit of hair behind on my shirt.

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So those were my random thoughts for the week. How about yours? Leave me some in the comments.

Sunday Bookends: To Kill A Mockingbird, awful disaster movies, royals, and slow spring days

Welcome to Sunday Bookends where I ramble about what I’m reading, watching, listening to, writing, or doing.

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Happy Mother’s Day for those who are mothers, had a mother they cared about, or who are spending a mother’s day remembering their lovely mothers.

What We’re Reading

The Boy and I have been reading To Kill A Mockingbird. He’s halfway through and I finished it this weekend. To make sure he finishes it by the time we finish school in three weeks, I purchased an audible membership so he could listen to it as well as read it. It’s narrated by Sissy Spacek.

Anyone who says To Kill A Mockingbird is a racist book has obviously never read it. Using the “n” word does not make a book racist. I’m guessing too many people got to the first “n” word, but it down and never got to the parts where it is clear Atticus and many others in Maycomb, Alabama are not racist. Using the word and many other references to black people made the book painfully real, painfully raw. Without it, it wouldn’t have been clear how the people of this county in Alabama looked at black people as less than human, which is why they were so willing to put a black man on trial for a crime he didn’t commit.

Have you ever read To Kill A Mockingbird? If so, what did you think? Let me know in the comments. If you haven’t, I highly encourage you to do so. It is considered a classic for a reason. Reading it again as an adult had an even bigger impact on me than it did when I read it in 7th grade (on my own, I might add.) I cried as a teenager over the injustice of it all, but I practically bawled as an adult.

I may write a book review on this next week, if I can stop crying.

Besides reading that this weekend, I also started The Sowing Season by Katie Powner

and I’m still reading Kindness Goes Unpunished by Craig Johnson (A Longmire Mystery). I’m not reading the Longmire book slowly because it is bad. Quite the opposite. It is very, very good.

I wanted to finish To Kill A Mockingbird first, because it is a very good book and I needed to for my son’s English, and I’ve been writing Harvesting Hope (new name for The Farmers’ Sons) so Walt Longmire has been pushed aside a little.

I’m also reading Rooms by James Rubart this week because at the end of the week I am going to be “attending” a author workshop with him as the main speaker. It is all on Zoom. I’m sure I’ll update my blog readers about that next week.

I hope to get to The Number of Love by Roseanna White this week as well, but I had to move Rooms up so I would at least now wat James is talking about during his keynote speech.

What We’re Watching

This week we tried something different by watching Prince Charles Inside the Duchy of Cornwall on Acorn TV (through Amazon).  If you don’t know what a Duchy is, (because I didn’t either), it is an area of land run by a Duke or Duchess. On that land are towns, small businesses, and various small farms.

The description of the show from the AcornTV website:

Prince Charles provides exclusive access to the royal lands that have belonged to successive Prince of Wales for 700 years I this moving, candid, and humorous observational documentary. Established in 1337, the Duchy of Cornwall is today a vast, varied estate of rolling farmland, visionary housing development, and even parts of inner-city London that embody the prince’s sustainable philosophy.

The two-part documentary gave my husband and I a completely different look at Prince Charles, also known as the Duke of Cornwall. I don’t know about some of you, but when I was growing up Charles was often painted as the bad guy while Princess Diana was considered sweet, demure, and innocent. Charles cheated on Diana with his first love Camilla (now his wife), but listening to him talk during this documentary I couldn’t imagine him as evil or emotionally abusive. It gave me a more complex view of him and the entire situation, actually.

Charles’ estate in Cornwall helps pay for the royal family’s expenses, as well as various charities.

In addition to learning more about Charles and his work, we also got the impression from the show that the royals do have to work for their money. I think most Americans believe royals are born with a silver spoon in their mouth and never have to work for the lavish lifestyles they have. It’s clear from this special, and others I’ve seen, they do work and are under extreme pressure at times.

Last night we were looking for a film to watch as a family. When my husband came to the preview of The Towering Inferno and I saw that Paul Newman (my favorite actor. Swoon! ) and Steve McQueen (more swooning!) were in it together, I said, “Yes! This is the film for us!”  

My son said, “Mom. Eww. And how old are these guys now?”

“They’re dead,” I responded.

“Oh mom. That’s disturbing.”

My husband was like, “Watch all the people who are in this. You’ll be surprised by one.”

And then there was his name: O.J. Simpson and after him, Robert Wagner.

“Wow,” I said. “It’s a movie with all the wife killers.”

If you’ve never seen the movie, you haven’t missed much. I wouldn’t rush to watch it unless you need to have a good laugh and cringe more times than people at a Justin Beiber concert.

At one point The Boy said, “why do all the blond women at this party have the same hairdo? They look like a bunch of Lego women.”

A man stumbles out of an elevator on fire, into a party scene, at one point and I quipped, “Wow. This party is lit.”

A building 135 stories high with bad wiring and no safety protocols? What could go wrong? This is NOT a movie to watch if you, or anyone you know, were near the World Trade Center in 2001, however. There are a couple of very triggering scenes that brought memories of that day even to my mind. We almost turned it off, but there were too many illogical and giggling-inducing bad acting moments to make the movie too upsetting.

Apparently, there are a series of these disaster films, so I told my family I think we should watch all of them over the next few Saturday nights. We need a good laugh and to question again how these high-quality actors ended up in such horrible films.

I have also been re-watching the first three episodes of The Chosen with my son (for his Bible lessons) and my mom and then Dallas Jenkins announced that episode four is debuting Tuesday at 9 p.m. ET. I’m very excited for episode 4 because I believe it’s about the man at the pool who Jesus heals and tells to pick up his mat and go be well.

What I’m Writing

Last week I wrote about taking more breaks from news (and I did really well this week, by the way. I hardly looked at news at all and it was so nice.). I also challenged all of you to do the same if you don’t already.

On Tuesday I shared photos from April.

I shared a book review for Avoiding Marriage by Karin Beery and In Sheep’s Clothing by Pegg Thomas for the rest of the week.

On Friday, I shared another chapter from The Farmers’ Sons which I have now renamed Harvesting Hope and announced that the book version of it will be out this summer (most likely the end of July).

What I’m Listening To

I am listening to the live album by Needtobreathe and a new album by Elevation Worship. Here are a couple of samples of those. They are both available whereever music is streaming.

What’s Been Occurring

We have not been doing anything very exciting lately. We’re such boring people that going to a doctor’s appointment is the highlight of our week. I’m not even 70 yet. A couple of weeks ago we traveled 45 minutes to pick up my son’s new glasses and made it a family trip. This past week we traveled 30 minutes for an eye doctor appointment for me and for the first time in 30 years, my prescription wasn’t increased. I also avoided bifocals, but just barely, and after I got back to the house and tried to type on my computer, I thought about how I might should have asked for the bifocals after all.

Last week my kids enjoyed playing outside at my parents, rolling in the grass after I told them I didn’t want them in the grass because I was worried about deer ticks. Oh well, at least they had fun and when we did a tick search that night we didn’t find any, thankfully. It’s weird to have to worry about ticks now because when I was a kid, we were never told not to roll in the grass because of ticks. We were never told not to roll in the grass period, unless we were wearing a nice Sunday dress.

So, that’s my week in review. How about yours? What have you been reading, watching, listening to, or doing? Let me know in the comments or link to a blog post where you shared your week.

Fiction Friday: The Farmers’ Sons (Harvesting Hope) Chapter 7

This week’s chapter is a pretty long one, so brace yourselves. It is also the week where I am announcing that this latest book should be out to read in full this summer, most likely the end of July. And because I like announcements, I am also announcing that the final title of the book will be Harvesting Hope but I will be calling it The Farmers’ Sons here on the blog.

This story may be a little more raw than some of my other stories, but I hope my regular readers know that even if I mention topics such as sex, drugs, suicide, or low self-esteem, I always try my best not to get too descriptive or graphic. I am not someone who will be writing erotica on here, in other words, but the subject matter is a little more gritty than your average clean/Christian fiction.

So, with all that said, here is Chapter 7 of the story and at the end there will be a sneak peek of Chapter 8. If you don’t know, I share these chapters as a work in progress, so there will most likely be typos and plot holes, etc. If you notice them, please feel free to share with me in private or in the comments. Also feel free to share with me your thoughts on the story so far, on the characters, and on where you think the story should go next.

To read Molly’s story from the first book of this series, download a copy on Amazon or read it through Kindle Unlimited. To read the other parts of this story click HERE or find a link at the top of the page.

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Ellie winced, curling her legs up against the heating pad pressed against her stomach. A burning pain had started in her lower stomach an hour earlier and was curving around to her back. She’d finally given up and taken ibuprofen. It hadn’t kicked in yet.

Outside, the sun was glistening off the trees where the leaves had come out on the maple tree behind the building. She enjoyed the blooming trees and flowers on her walk home from work, despite the pain that had increased after lunch time.

Was it the stress of the last few weeks causing her pain to be worse? Maybe her condition was simply getting worse. Either way, she prayed for the pain to end soon. She had Bible study in a couple of hours. They were studying Proverbs 31, and she needed to be there, not only to lead the study, but to focus on something other than her deepening depression.

She drifted off into a fitful sleep for 20 minutes before a knock on the door woke her.

Trying to ignore it, she rolled on to her side, facing the back of the couch.

The knocking continued. Then a voice she didn’t want to hear sent an aggravated growl up from her throat.

 “El-bell! Are you in there? I have to pee! I held it all the way from Scranton.”

Ellie flung the blanket off her and glared at the door as she walked to it and unlocked it. What is she doing here?

Judi bounded in as soon as she opened the door.

“Oh, my gosh. Thank God.” Judi dragged a suitcase on wheels behind her and walked into the middle of the living room. “I think my bladder is going to burst. Where’s the bathroom?”

Ellie sighed and motioned toward the hallway beyond the kitchen. She shuffled back to the couch and flopped on her face, waiting for her sister to come out and explain why she wasn’t in New York City right now. A few minutes later, she heard her sister’s heels on the laminate floor.

“Whoa. Has the break-up hit you hard or what? You look awful.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing Judi would go away again. “Thanks, Judi.” She spoke into the couch cushion her face was pressed into. “If you must know, I’m having cramps.”

“Oh.”

Cupboard doors opened and banged closed. “Got any food? I’m starving. There is like nowhere to stop on the drive down here. Or in town, of course. This place still doesn’t have any good restaurants.”

Ellie tilted her head to one side, still laying on her stomach. “What are you doing here?”

Judi shoved a wheat thin in her mouth. “Wow. That’s rude. I haven’t seen you in over a year and all you want to know is what I’m doing here?”

Ellie sat up and hugged a pillow against her chest. Her sister had just arrived unannounced, but had the audacity to call her rude? Yeah, okay.

Judi should consider herself lucky that Ellie was too tired to yell.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding back the annoyance she felt. “It’s just that you don’t visit very often, so this is a bit of a surprise.”

Judi poured a glass of iced tea and then started opening the vegetable drawers. “Do you have any lemons? I like lemons with my tea.”

“Bottom drawer, in the back.”

“Where are the knives?”

“Second drawer from the stove.”

“Cutting board?”

“Cupboard next to the fridge.”

“Awesome. Thanks.”

Ellie listened to the click of the knife against the cutting board, waiting for her sister to enlighten her with her reason for the unexpected visit. After a few moments Judi sat in the blue plush chair across from Ellie and crossed one bare leg over the other, the hem of her maroon shorts pulling up to her thigh. She took a long drink from the iced tea before speaking.

“I was worried about you, El.” Her foot bounced as she talked. “You sounded so sad on the phone so I took some time off work and come see if I could cheer you up.”

Ellie looked at her sister through narrowed eyes. “You’re still working?”

Judi scowled. “That’s not nice. Yes, I’m working. I’m still at that designer clothing store I told you about.” She placed her glass on the table next to the chair. “Oh! Which reminds me — I have some of the cutest outfits to show you. I get an employee discount. I thought we could try them on and go out to Mooneys or drive up over the state line and find somewhere to show them off.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “I hope you don’t mean tonight because I can’t tonight. I have Bible study.”

Judi made a face. “Tell me you are not still leading Bible studies.”

“I am still leading Bible studies, yes.” Ellie tried to keep the aggravation out of her voice, but it wasn’t working. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and tried again. “I have a Bible study at 7. You’re welcome to come along.”

Judi scoffed. “No thanks. Sounds boring. A bunch of uptight women sipping tea, highlighting passages in their Bibles, and acting as if they are so perfect and special.”

“Judi, come on. That’s not how it is.” Ellie tossed the pillow aside and walked into the kitchen to make herself a cup of blueberry tea. The cramps were still there but staring to fade to a dull ache. “These are nice women. Real women, talking about real issues. They aren’t fake.”

Judi stretched a leg out and propped her foot on the coffee table. “Real issues, huh? Like what dress to wear to church on Sunday? Or how ashamed they are for noticing how good looking the pastor is? Or maybe they talk about how disgusted they are with all the people who go out and live lives instead of sitting around reading some old book all day.”

A bird chirped from the branch of the cherry tree outside below the kitchen window and Ellie wished she could turn into that bird and fly away. She filled the kettle and sat it on the burner and turned it on. She turned toward Judi and leaned back against the kitchen counter, folding her arms across her chest.

“What happened to make you so angry at Christians, Judi? You never used to be like this.”

Judi sighed. “I’m not angry at Christians. It’s just —” She shrugged. “Some of the women that go to that church seem so stuck up. They act as if they are so perfect.”

The bird chirped again, and Ellie could almost feel herself in flight, gliding above the roofs of the buildings in town, over the courthouse and the library, to the edge of town where the train tracks cut a path between the business and residential districts. If Judi hadn’t been there, she would have closed her eyes, completing the mental journey out of town, across the farmland, down the path of the highway; transporting herself as far away from her current life as possible.

“Some do, yes, but not all. Most of those women are normal, everyday women who just want to learn more about God and how they can trust him during the good and bad times. It really isn’t fair for you to judge them.”

Judi turned in the chair and laid her arms across the back of it, propping her chin on her arm. “Is that what you talk about with these women? Your bad times? Like your bad times with Jason?”

Ellie bristled at the mention of Jason. The anger she felt toward Judi for bringing him up startled her. It was sudden and visceral. She didn’t talk about Jason to anyone but Lucy. Judi didn’t even know why she and Jason had broken up. When she’d asked, Ellie had told her they’d grown apart, and she didn’t want to talk about it. For once, Judi had left it alone.

Ellie turned and set the tea bag in the honeybee mug Molly had given her last year for her birthday. “Have you been home to see Mom and Dad, yet?”

Judi laughed. “I see how it is. Not going to talk to your little sister about the big breakup. Well, fine. You don’t have to. We’ll get you out to some clubs, meet some good-looking men and you’ll forget all about that dirty cow farmer.”

Judi stepped around the island separating the living room and kitchen and hoisted herself up onto the countertop next to the breadbox. “I’ll pop over to the parental units tomorrow. See what’s going on at the old homestead.”

Ellie reached in the cupboard next to the stove and reached for the jar of honey. “Did you even tell them you were coming?”

“Nah. I knew they’d be glad to see me no matter what.” Judi reached into the breadbox and pulled out a piece of the homemade bread Ellie had brought back from her parents Sunday. She bit into it and groaned with pleasure. “Mom’s homemade bread. So good. Makes me almost sad I gave up gluten.” She shoved more of the bread into her mouth, talking with her mouth full. “This one little piece shouldn’t hurt.” She looked down at her hips and patted the left side. “I hope anyhow. I can’t afford to gain weight or I won’t fit into that cute skirt I brought with me.”

She jumped off the counter. “I’m going to go grab my bag. It’s cool if I stay here, right?”

“Yeah, I gue—”

“Cool. I need a shower and a nap. I drove straight through and I’m beat. Have fun at your Bible study.”

Ellie waited for the teakettle to whistle, tapping her foot against the floor, her jaw tight. First, she’d had to deal with Brad, and now she had to deal with Judi. Could this week get any worse? She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t speak it into existence, Ellie Lambert,” she whispered as the teakettle whistled. “You know it can.”

***

She’d stood in the locker room doorway, dirty blond curls spilling down her back like a luxurious spider web. She pressed one finely manicured hand flat against the door frame, the other curled around her slender hip.

There had been so many nights over the years, especially recently, when Jason closed his eyes and saw her in his mind’s eye, hating himself all over again.

Lauren Phillips.

Bright red lipstick highlighted full lips. Dark eyeliner and light blue eye shadow complimented her green eyes.

“Hey, Jason, you’re looking good.” Her gaze had traveled down the length of him and back up again, lingering on his bare chest. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, a soft purr vibrating in her throat. “Of course, you’re always looking good.”

He’d slid his shirt on, pulling it down with a quick jerk. “Thanks. You look nice too.”

She took a step forward, sliding a hand down a thigh length black mini skirt. “You think so?” She straightened her shoulders, pushing her chest forward, the red fabric of her shirt stretching tight against her slim figure.

“This is a new outfit.”

He nodded, cleared his throat. “Looks great.”

Returning to packing his gear in his locker, he tried to give off the vibe that he wasn’t interested in whatever Lauren was offering. And she was offering a lot. Not so much in words but loud-and-clear in body language.

She was attractive, yes, but Lauren also had a reputation around campus, and it wasn’t a good one.

Her fingertips trailed up his arm as he slammed the locker door closed, swirling a pattern up his shoulder and along the back of his neck. “We’re having a party tonight down at Phi Beta Kappa. I need an escort.” She played with the hair on the back of his head. “Interested?”

He shook his head, wishing her touch didn’t feel so good. “Nah. I’ve got a workout session scheduled.”

Her lips were close to his ear. “The party will be going late. Stop by and join us.” She leaned even closer, her breath hot against his skin. “When you’re done.”

Everything about Lauren was the opposite of Ellie. Ellie’s sweetness was genuine. Lauren’s sweetness was an act, a way to get into the heads of men she’d set her sights on to conquer. At least that’s how he saw her looking back.

No matter how many ways Jason tried to vilify Lauren Phillips, though, he couldn’t. He was the one who had decided to accept her offer to go to those parties, to let her lull him into what he’d hoped would be a pleasure filled distraction from the distorting thoughts that had settled on him at college.

The first kiss, outside his dorm when she’d walked back with him from the gym, had been intense. It had sparked a physical desire in him he’d almost caved in to but had resisted, using the excuse he had a class to get to. It wasn’t a lie, but he knew he was copping out. Any other guy on campus would have accepted her advances and launched a counter-attack of their own.

When Lauren kissed him hard one night after a party at her apartment, his will crumbled around him. Her arms wound around him like a serpent. As she pulled him toward an open bedroom door in her apartment, her hands up under his shirt, he knew he was crossing a boundary he’d set for himself years ago. He hadn’t even cared anymore. He needed something, anything, to drown out the pain of Ellie’s rejection, the doubts about his faith clouding his mind.

For those brief moments he’d forgotten who he was, and it felt amazing.

At first.

The guilt set in like a heavy chain around his neck within moments after he’d stumbled through her bedroom door, carrying his shirt and jeans.

The alcohol had blurred his senses. It had all been so rushed. She was dressing before he’d even had time to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

“That was fun.” Her tone was casual as she buttoned her blouse. “We should do it again sometime.”

He’d woke up a few hours later in his dorm room, unable to remember how he got there. Alex stood over him, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.

“Hey, Jase. You okay?”

Jason had moved in with Alex at the beginning of the second semester of his sophomore year to remove himself from the peer pressure of living with a bunch of football players in a frat house downtown. Alex, who he’d met his freshman year during an English Lit class, hadn’t offered him the break from temptation he’d been hoping for.

Instead, Alex had talked him into visiting bars, meeting women – meeting Lauren. Part of him could have blamed Alex like he tried to blame Lauren, but none of it had been either of their fault. He’d made his own decisions, and now he had to live with them.

Alex’s reaction to his state of mortification was less than supportive. At least at first.

“You got with Lauren Phillips?” He raised his arms to celebrate. “That girl is hot. She wouldn’t even give me the time of day. What have you got that I don’t?” Alex slapped the back of his hand against Jason’s right bicep. “Oh, yeah…muscles.”

Jason vomited in an empty container from the Chinese restaurant.

Alex made a face. “You’re throwing up after sleeping with a hot woman? Is it the alcohol or do you need to tell me something else? Like maybe you don’t like women? Maybe you like —”

“Alex!” Jason wiped his hand across his mouth, looking for a paper towel to clean himself off. “I like women. I am definitely attracted to women. That’s not it. If it was, I wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

“What situation? Wait. Didn’t you use —”

“I just mean the whole Lauren situation. Come on, Alex. Don’t make this worse than it is.” Jason sat back, pressing his hands to his face. “I’m not the guy who just jumps in bed with a woman I don’t even know. You know that.”

“You mean like me?”

“That’s not what I meant. I just mean that I wanted to have a connection with the woman I – with whoever I first — I mean…”

“Oh.”

Alex shrugged, scooting himself back onto the top of the dresser, his legs hanging down. Jason could tell he didn’t want to talk about his friend’s bedroom experiences, or lack thereof.

“Okay, listen, you made a mistake. That’s all. It’s not the end of the world. Just cut Lauren loose and take some time to think about things. About what you really want. This is college. This where we screw up and learn our lessons, right?”

Jason had definitely learned a lesson from the experience, but he wished he hadn’t had to.

He’d almost lost his football scholarship that year after showing up late to too many practices and showing up more than once with a hangover. He avoided Lauren after their encounter, ignoring her phone calls and telling her he had homework to do that one night she’d pounded on his dorm room door.

“I guess you got what you wanted,” she snapped, arms folded across her chest, standing in the doorway as he tried to close the door. She lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “Or maybe I just got what I wanted.”

It was the last time he’d seen her, other than across the campus from time to time when she was hanging off the arm of one of the other football players.

He had refocused himself for the remainder of that year and for the next year after that. All he wanted was his degree, so he could go home and make sure his family’s business survived. He’d also realized he wanted to go back to Ellie. Along with God she was an anchor for him, and when he’d let go of them both, it had spun his life out of control.

The front door slammed open, bringing Alex and a gust of wind into the room and jostling Jason from his memories.

This was present day Alex, Alex seven years later but in some ways the same ole’ Alex. But hopefully not exactly the same Alex, since he was dating Molly now.

The crash of thunder and rush of pounding rain roared into the living room, quieted only when Alex pushed the door closed, his clothes clinging to him. Sliding his cowboy hat off, he propped it on the hook next to the door, then paused and looked at Jason, sprawled on the couch on his back.

“All the lights are off and you’re listening to sad country music. This can’t be good.”

“It’s not sad music. It’s Chris Ledoux.”

“Who you only listen to when you’re sad.” A crack of thunder rattled the window and lightening lit the sky outside.

Alex winced as he pried his wet button-up shirt off and tossed it toward the laundry room. It landed in the hallway, and Jason hoped he would pick it up this time. “Thinking about Ellie?”

Jason tipped his head back against the arm of the couch, his long legs stretched across the faded grey cushions, one arm laying across his forehead, the other one hanging off the couch.

“Yeah. And Lauren.”

Alex reached up and flicked on the light switch.  “Ah, man, no. Not a good combination. You can’t sit here sitting in the dark reflecting on past mistakes. It’s not healthy.”

Jason burped and reached for the can of soda on the coffee table without sitting up. Alex kicked at an empty bag of potato chips on the floor. “Um… this isn’t healthy either. Where are your regular veggie sticks and protein shakes?”

Alex pulled his wet tank top off and walked behind the couch toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. “Listen, I’m going to go get dried off and changed. When I come back, you better tell me what’s up.”

“Will you have your shirt on when you come back? Because I don’t need to see that.”

Alex scoffed and slapped his hand against his bare chest. “Of course, you need to see this. Who doesn’t?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Yeah, well —”

“If you say Molly likes to look at that I will get off this couch and mess up your pretty boy face.”

Alex raised his hands in a surrender motion. “Okay. Okay. Calm down, big boy.”

A few moments later, dried off and wearing a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans, Alex smacked the bottom of Jason’s feet and told him to shove over and sit up. He sat a water bottle on the coffee table and cracked open a can of soda he’d grabbed out of the fridge on the way back to the living room. He took a long drink before sitting where Jason’s feet had been.

“Come on, man. What’s going on? Talk to your old friend Alex while you flush all that junk out of your system with this —” He squinted at the label on the water bottle. “Electrolyte enhanced mineral water. Whatever that is.”

Jason groaned and sat up, picking up the bottle. He leaned his elbows on his knees and sipped the water, staring at the turned off television. In its reflection, he saw a hollow version of himself, eyes heavy and empty.

Rain drops against the metal porch roof out back filled the silence. He rubbed his hand along his jawline, staring at the television until his haggard image blurred. The last three weeks had been full of training sessions for the fire company mixed in between building pens for the goats and planting corn and rye and his regular duties at the farm. His body was screaming a warning that he couldn’t keep this pace up much longer.

Alex cleared his throat, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees. “Listen, Jason, like I said that day Ellie overheard us, I’m sorry for any part I played in you meeting Lauren.”

Jason waved his hand dismissively. “No more apologies, Alex. Like I told you then, my choices got me here, not yours. It wasn’t your fault. I decided to go with you to those bars and parties and I chose to sleep with Lauren, even if alcohol did cloud my judgement.” He pushed his hands into his hair and shook his head again. “If anyone should feel guilty, it’s me for not influencing you in a more positive way. I should be doing that now.”

Alex leaned back again and slid his hands behind his head, grinning. “So, you mean you should be my spiritual guide?”

“Well, maybe, yeah. Someone has to help you. You’re a mess.”

Alex playfully tossed a pillow at Jason’s head. “Thanks, jerk, but we’re talking about you. Not me. So, what are you going to do about Ellie? Molly says you and Ellie talked a few Sundays ago.”

 “Talked.” A derisive laugh escaped Jason’s lips. “More like yelled until I was hoarse, and she was bawling.”

Alex tossed the empty soda can toward the recycling bin in the kitchen. It bounced off the edge and rolled across the kitchen floor. “Yeah. Didn’t sound like it went very well.”

Jason swallowed hard, remembering the way Molly had looked at him. It had been almost as bad as the way Ellie looked at him.

“She said she needed time but I’m pretty sure she meant she needed to never see me again.”

Alex shook his head and leaned against his hand, propping his elbow on the arm of the couch. “It doesn’t seem fair. I mean, it’s not like you slept with Lauren when you two were dating. You were broke up.”

“That’s not the point in her mind.” Jason stretched his legs out in front of him, propped his feet up on the coffee table. “The point is, I never told her about it. She feels like I broke her trust.” He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “And she’s right. I did.”

Alex tipped his head back against the couch, looked up at the ceiling. “The thing is, though, you’re a guy and guys can’t always push their needs aside like women can.”

Jason tilted his face toward Alex, cocking an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?” He folded his arms across his chest. “You don’t say.”

“Listen, it’s admirable that you and Ellie waited for this special time between each other. It really is, but is it realistic? Like I said, guys have needs. She gets that, right?”

Jason narrowed his eyes, tipped his head to look at Alex, trying to stay calm. “Yes, Alex. Guys do have needs and you’re dating my sister. Anything you need to share with me right now?”

Alex laughed, rolled his tongue inside his cheek, propping his ankle over the opposite knee as he folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Let’s not get off topic here —”

“I’m on topic.” Jason watched Alex intently. “Tell me more about how the guy who is dating my sister has needs that need to be met. I’m listening.”

Red spread quickly across Alex’s cheeks and ears. “Listen, I respect Molly.” He cleared his throat and picked at a string on the bottom of his jeans, back to Jason. The smile had faded.

Jason cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah. And?”

Alex held his hand up, palm out. “Hey, remember what I told you after you found out about me and Molly? About things being private between a man and women, even if that woman is your sister? That applies here too.”

Jason wasn’t looking away. Alex cleared his throat again. “But — since I like my face being in one piece, I will tell you that your sister is worth waiting for.” He paused for emphasis, his gaze meeting Jason’s. “In every way. Okay? Now, let’s move this conversation back to your situation with Ellie.”

Jason’s eyes stayed narrowed. “Just because we men have needs, Alex, as you put it, doesn’t mean we have to have those needs met all the time or at the wrong time. There’s something called self-control and I should have had more self-control with Lauren. I’d committed to staying sexually pure for my future wife. It may sound old-fashioned to you, but it was how I felt and how I still feel.”

The teasing disappeared from Alex’s tone. “I get it, Jase. I do. Okay? You’re right. It sounds old-fashioned to me, but it also sounds nice. It just doesn’t seem fair to me you’re losing everything you had with Ellie over a woman like Lauren Phillips.”

Standing and walking across the floor to look out the window, Alex let out a long breath. Raindrops speckled the windowpane. Thunder rumbled in the distance. He turned to face Jason again, leaning back against the door and crossing one leg over the other. “That girl was trouble. I saw her making out with Jake Murray at a party a couple days later. I think she made her way through the entire football team that year. Probably that semester even.”

Jason rubbed his eyes, a stinging ache growing behind them. His chest tightened, and he shook his head. He felt like he was suffocating under the weight of shame-filled memories.

A pounding on the door gave him the chance to quickly pass his hand over his eyes and swallow his emotion. Alex stepped away from the door, turned, and opened it, letting in the sound of the pouring rain.

Molly stood on the porch, breathless. Rain matted her hair to her forehead and face, drenching her clothes. “My truck has a flat up the road and I think Liz is in labor.”

Jason grabbed his hat and jacket. “We’ll take my truck, come on.”

By the time he pulled his truck behind Molly’s, sitting along ditch about a mile from their grandmother’s house, the rain had stopped. Liz was pacing alongside the road, rubbing her protruding belly.   She had pulled her long dark brown hair into a tight ponytail and her face was pale.

Alex jumped out first, helping Molly out next. “Should you be walking around like that?”

Liz shrugged and tossed her hands up. “It’s either this or sit in there and hyperventilate.”

Jason glanced in the back of the truck. “The spare is here at least. Your water broke yet?”

Liz rubbed her arms and continued pacing. “If you mean all that water that is supposed to come out before the baby does then no. It’s just cramping right now. Intense cramping. Every ten minutes or so.”

Jason retrieved the jack and spare tire from the truck bed. “If your water hasn’t broken, we’ve got time to change the tire.”

Liz made a face. “When did you become a doctor?”

Kneeling next to the flat tire, Jason grinned. “I’ve watched about a few hundred cows give birth in my lifetime and not much happens until the water breaks.” He stood, pushed his foot down on the jack handle. “I’m sure it’s the same with humans.”

Liz scowled, folding her arms across her chest. “Jason Tanner, did you just compare me to a cow?”

He winked under the brim of his John Deere cap. “If the shoe fits, sweet cheeks.”

Liz kicked mud at him and growled. “If I wasn’t about to give birth, I’d kick your bu —”

“You’re not about to give birth.” Jason loosened a bolt on the tire. “You’re probably just having false labor.”

Liz swung to face Molly. “It’s fine if I bludgeon your brother with the tire iron, right?”

“Not unless you don’t want to get to the hospital,” Molly laughed.

Jason reached into his pocket and tossed the keys at Alex. “Take my truck. I’ll drive Molly’s.”

Liz winced and held on to the side of the truck, breathing slowly. The color in her face had drained again, and she bent over slightly.

“Get going,” Jason said, jerking his head toward his truck. “I’ve helped plenty of cows bring babies into the world, but I have no interest in doing it with a human.”

Molly took Liz’s hand and slid her arm around her waist. “Lean against me and breathe like we learned in class.”

Liz nodded, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye. Jason looked up to see her look at Molly with glistening eyes. “I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered.

Alex laughed softly as he opened the passenger side door. “A bit late for that.”

He winced as Molly’s fist hit his upper arm. “What? It is.”

Jason chuckled and shook his head. “Better watch it, Alex. Molly doesn’t get angry, she gets even.”

Molly turned her scowl from Alex to Jason, then back to Alex before smiling at Liz and rubbing her back. “Ignore them. Focus on the fact that soon you’ll be holding your baby in your arms.”

Alex placed a hand under Liz’s elbow and helped her into the truck.  

Liz’s shoulders noticeably relaxed as she leaned back against the seat, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Stay calm. Have a baby. Beat up Alex and Jason. I can do this.”

Alex laughed and patted her shoulder. “At least you have your priorities straight.”

Chapter 8 Sneek Peak

Chapter 8

Jason watched the truck disappear down the road for a moment before turning back to the tire. He worked a bolt loose, saying a quick prayer for Liz. Quick prayers were all the prayers he allowed time for these days. Any longer and his thoughts spiraled out of control.

The crunch of tires on gravel brought his head up. There was little chance he didn’t know whoever was driving by. Everyone knew everyone in this county. When he recognized the old blue pick-up pulling up behind Molly’s truck, his heart sank.

Tom Lambert, his dark brown hair speckled with gray, leaned an arm on the wall of the truck bed.

Book Review: In Sheeps Clothing by Pegg Thomas

Book and author: In Sheeps Clothing by Pegg Thomas

Publisher: Spinner of Yarns Publishing

Genre: Christian Fiction

Description:

Yarrow Fenn, the talented spinster sister, was passed over when her intended walked out on her years before. She’s content with her life – for the most part – until Peter Maltby arrives in town. A journeyman fuller, Peter comes to Milford, Connecticut, not to woo the young women, but to rise to the rank of master fuller and return to Boston for some unfinished business. When their lives intersect over an orphan lamb, sparks are kindled. But their budding romance will have to survive revealed secrets when someone else shows up in Milford.

My Review:

This read was a delightful, short, and sweet journey into the past. I am not someone who usually reads historical fiction but the cover and title caught my eye and I gave it a chance. The story flowed easily and the writing was very good. The book is very short and I could have done with a little more about both characters, but that’s only because I really enjoyed learning about them both. I will definitely be looking up more books by Pegg.

Book Review: Avoiding Marriage by Karin Beery

Avoiding Marriage by Karin Beery

Publisher:  EABooks Publishing 

Description:

Two years ago, Jessica Miller made a mess of her already confusing life. Now, she’s back in Boyne Heights, and she’s determined to fix her reputation. She can’t seem to avoid the past that haunts her, but that’s the joy of small-town life—word spreads and people remember. Intent on her mission, however, she faces her past head-on, taking a job with her ex-boyfriend while avoiding her grandmother’s attempts to find her a new one.

My Review:

I was provided a complimentary copy of this book, which I appreciated because I might not have picked it up on my own. It was the first time I’d read anything by this author so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I don’t usually read a ton of light romances or novellas but apparently, I am missing out because I really enjoyed this one. In fact, I enjoyed the characters so much that my only complaint is that the book wasn’t long enough. I know there are other books with these characters, however, so I am looking forward to reading more about them in the future.

Part of me felt, at first, that the premise was a little unrealistic – the idea of a young woman going to work for her ex-boyfriend who is now married, but then I thought about all the people around me who are doing similar things. I mean I even know of an actor whose ex-wife produces movies with him. What this book reminded me was that people move on, heal, and grow in many different ways so even if I wouldn’t be comfortable with that, there are plenty of people who are and have been.

The main character’s (Jessica’s) life was very relatable to me. To some, it may have seemed she had more on her than “real” people would, in regards to her family’s situation, but in my world, families are messy. There are divorces and hurt feelings and addictions and recovering addicts, etc. I like that Karin isn’t afraid to face those issues head-on. In the midst of all of Jessica’s struggles is the chance for love and that brings lighter and sweeter moments to the story.

This is a quick read for an avid reader, which is nice because then you can move on to Ashley’s story (which occurs before this one) in Practically Married or other books by Karin.

I received a copy of Practically Married from the author. This in no way affects my review. All opinions are my own.