{"id":1084,"date":"2009-02-16T11:45:49","date_gmt":"2009-02-16T16:45:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=1084"},"modified":"2009-02-16T11:45:49","modified_gmt":"2009-02-16T16:45:49","slug":"gingham-mountain-by-mary-connealy-first-wild-card-tour","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=1084","title":{"rendered":"Gingham Mountain by Mary Connealy – FIRST Wild Card Tour"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/span><\/strong> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Mary Connealy <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Gingham Mountain (Lassoed in Texas, Book 3) <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Barbour Books (February 1, 2009) <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301746475421102098\"<\/a>MARY CONNEALY is married to Ivan a farmer, and she is the mother of four beautiful daughters, Joslyn, Wendy, Shelly and Katy. Mary is a GED Instructor by day and an author by night. And there is always a cape involved in her transformation.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $10.97
Paperback: 288 pages
Publisher: Barbour Books (February 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602601410
ISBN-13: 978-1602601413 <\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301746635855587362\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Sour Springs, Texas, 1870 <\/p>\n

Martha had an iron rod where most people had a backbone.<\/p>\n

Grant smiled as he pulled his team to a stop in front of the train station in Sour Springs, Texas. <\/p>\n

She also had a heart of gold\u2014even if the old bat wouldn\u2019t admit it. She was going to be thrilled to see him and scold him the whole time.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s time to get back on the train.\u201d Martha Norris, ever the disciplinarian, had a voice that could back down a starving Texas wildcat, let alone a bunch of orphaned kids. It carried all the way across the street as Grant jumped from his wagon and trotted toward the depot. He\u2019d almost missed them. He could see the worry on Martha\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

Wound up tight from rushing to town, Grant knew he was late. But now that he was here, he relaxed. It took all of his willpower not to laugh at Martha, the old softy. <\/p>\n

He hurried toward them. If it had only been Martha he would have laughed, but there was nothing funny about the two children with her. They were leftovers.<\/p>\n

A little girl, shivering in the biting cold, her thin shoulders hunched against the wind, turned back toward the train. Martha, her shoulders slumped with sadness at what lay ahead for these children, rested one of her competent hands on the child\u2019s back.<\/p>\n

Grant noticed the girl limping. That explained why she hadn\u2019t been adopted. No one wanted a handicapped child. As if limping put a child so far outside of normal she didn\u2019t need love and a home. Controlling the slow burn in his gut, Grant saw the engineer top off the train\u2019s water tank. They\u2019d be pulling out of the station in a matter of minutes.<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t this the last stop, Mrs. Norris?\u201d A blond-headed boy stood, stony-faced, angry, scared.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Charlie, it is.\u201d <\/p>\n

His new son\u2019s name was Charlie. Grant picked up his pace.<\/p>\n

Martha sighed. \u201cWe don\u2019t have any more meetings planned.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, we have to go back to New York?\u201d Charlie, shivering and thin but hardy compared to the girl, scowled as he stood on the snow-covered platform, six feet of wood separating the train from the station house. <\/p>\n

Grant had never heard such a defeated question.<\/p>\n

The little girl\u2019s chin dropped and her shoulders trembled. <\/p>\n

What was he thinking? He heard defeat from unwanted children all the time. <\/p>\n

Charlie slipped his threadbare coat off his shoulders even though the wind cut like a knife through Grant\u2019s worn-out buckskin jacket. <\/p>\n

Grant\u2019s throat threatened to swell shut with tears as he watched that boy sacrifice the bit of warmth he got from that old coat. <\/p>\n

Stepping behind Martha, Charlie wrapped his coat around the girl. She shuddered and practically burrowed into the coat as if it held the heat of a fireplace, even as she shook her head and frowned at Charlie. <\/p>\n

\u201cJust take the stupid thing.\u201d Charlie glared at the girl.<\/p>\n

After studying him a long moment, the little girl, her eyes wide and sad, kept the coat. <\/p>\n

Mrs. Norris stayed his hands. \u201cThat\u2019s very generous, Charlie, but you can\u2019t go without a coat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want it. I\u2019m gonna throw it under the train if she don\u2019t take it.\u201d The boy\u2019s voice was sharp and combative. A bad attitude. That could keep a boy from finding a home. <\/p>\n

Grant hurried faster across the frozen ruts of Sour Springs Main Street toward the train platform and almost made it. A tight grip on his arm stopped him. Surprised, he turned and saw that irksome woman who\u2019d been hounding him ever since she\u2019d moved to town. What was her name? Grant\u2019d made of point of not paying attention to her. She usually yammered about having his shirts sewn in her shop.<\/p>\n

\u201cGrant, it\u2019s so nice to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

It took all his considerable patience to not jerk free. Shirt Lady was unusually tall, slender, and no one could deny she was pretty, but she had a grip like a mule skinner, and Grant was afraid he\u2019d have a fight on his hands to get his arm back.<\/p>\n

Grant touched the brim of his battered Stetson with his free hand. \u201cHowdy, Miss. I\u2019m afraid I\u2019m in a hurry today.\u201d<\/p>\n

A movement caught his eye, and he turned to look at his wagon across the street. Through the whipping wind he could see little, but Grant was sure someone had come alongside his wagon. He wished it were true so he could palm this persistent pest off on an unsuspecting neighbor.<\/p>\n

Shirt Lady\u2019s grip tightened until it almost hurt through his coat. She leaned close, far closer than was proper to Grant\u2019s way of thinking.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you come over to my place and warm yourself before you head back to the ranch. I\u2019ve made pie, and it\u2019s a lonely kind of day.\u201d She fluttered her lashes until Grant worried she\u2019d gotten dirt in her eye. He considered sending her to Doc Morgan for medical care.<\/p>\n

The train chugged and reminded Grant he was almost out of time. \u201cCan\u2019t stop now, Miss.\u201d What was her name? How many times had she spoken to him? A dozen if it was three. \u201cThere are some orphans left on the platform, and they need a home. I\u2019ve got to see to \u2019em.\u201d<\/p>\n

Something flashed in her eyes for a second before she controlled it. He knew that look. She didn\u2019t like orphans. Well, then what was she doing talking to him? He came with a passel of \u2019em. Grant shook himself free.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll talk another time then.\u201d <\/p>\n

Sorely afraid they would, Grant tugged on his hat brim again and ran. His boots echoed on the depot stairs. He reached the top step just as Martha turned to the sound of his clomping. She was listening for him even when she shouldn\u2019t be.<\/p>\n

Grant couldn\u2019t stand the sight of the boy\u2019s thin shoulders covered only by the coarse fabric of his dirty, brown shirt. He pulled his gloves off, noticing as he did that the tips of his fingers showed through holes in all ten fingers. <\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take \u2019em, Martha.\u201d How was he supposed to live with himself if he didn\u2019t? Grant\u2019s spurs clinked as he came forward. He realized in his dash to get to town he\u2019d worn his spurs even though he brought the buckboard. Filthy from working the cattle all morning, most of his hair had fallen loose from the thong he used to tie it back. More than likely he smelled like his horse. A razor hadn\u2019t touched his face since last Sunday morning. <\/p>\n

Never one to spend money on himself when his young\u2019uns had needs\u2014or might at any time\u2014his coat hung in tatters, and his woolen union suit showed through a rip in his knee.<\/p>\n

Martha ran her eyes up and down him and shook her head, suppressing a smile. \u201cGrant, you look a fright.\u201d<\/p>\n

A slender young woman rose to her feet from where she sat at the depot. Her movements drew Grant\u2019s eyes away from the forlorn children. From the look of the snow piling up on the young woman\u2019s head, she\u2019d been sitting here in the cold ever since the train had pulled in, which would have been the better part of an hour ago. She must have expected someone to meet her, but no one had. <\/p>\n

When she stepped toward him, Grant spared her a longer glance because she was a pretty little thing, even though her dark brown hair hung in bedraggled strings from beneath her black bonnet and twisted into tangled curls around her chin. Her face was so dirty the blue of her eyes shined almost like the heart of a flame in a sooty lantern. <\/p>\n

Grant stared at her for a moment. He recognized something in her eyes. If she\u2019d been a child and looked at him with those eyes, he\u2019d have taken her home and raised her. <\/p>\n

Then the children drew his attention away from the tired, young lady. <\/p>\n

Martha Norris shook her head. \u201cYou can\u2019t handle any more, Grant. We\u2019ll find someone, I promise. I won\u2019t quit until I do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know that\u2019s the honest truth.\u201d Grant knew Martha had to protest; good sense dictated it. But she\u2019d hand the young\u2019uns over. \u201cAnd God bless you for it. But this is the end of the line for the orphan train. You can\u2019t do anything until you get back to New York. I\u2019m not going to let these children take that ride.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cActually, Libby joined us after we\u2019d left New York. It was a little irregular, but it\u2019s obvious the child needs a home.\u201d Martha kept looking at him shaking her head. <\/p>\n

\u201cIrregular how?\u201d He tucked his tattered gloves behind his belt buckle.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe stowed away.\u201d Martha glanced at Libby. \u201cIt was the strangest thing. I never go back to the baggage car, but one of the children tore a hole in his pants. My sewing kit is always in the satchel I carry with me. I was sure I had it, but it was nowhere to be found. So I knew I\u2019d most likely left it with my baggage. I went back to fetch it so I could mend the seam and found her hiding in amongst the trunks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grant was reaching for the buttons on his coat, but he froze. \u201cAre you sure she isn\u2019t running away from home?\u201d His stomach twisted when he thought of a couple of his children who had run off over the years. He\u2019d been in a panic until he\u2019d found them. \u201cShe might have parents somewhere, worried to death about her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe had a note in her pocket explaining everything. I feel certain she\u2019s an orphan. And I don\u2019t know how long she was back there. She could have been riding with us across several states. I sent telegraphs to every station immediately, and I\u2019m planning on leaving a note at each stop on my way back, but I hold out no hope that a family is searching for her.\u201d Martha sighed as if she wanted to fall asleep on her feet. <\/p>\n

Grant realized it wasn\u2019t just the children who had a long ride ahead of them. One corner of Grant\u2019s lips turned up. \u201cQuit looking at me like that, Martha, or I\u2019ll be thinking I have to adopt you so you don\u2019t have to face the trip.\u201d<\/p>\n

Martha, fifty if she was a day, laughed. \u201cI ought to take you up on that. You need someone to come out there and take your ranch in hand. Without a wife, who\u2019s going to cook for all these children?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve been out. You know how we run things. Everybody chips in.\u201d The snow was getting heavier, and the wind blew a large helping of it down Grant\u2019s neck. Grant ignored the cold in the manner of men who fought the elements for their living and won. He went back to unbuttoning his coat, then shrugged it off and dropped it on the boy\u2019s shoulders. It hung most of the way to the ground. <\/p>\n

Charlie tried to give the coat back. \u201cI don\u2019t want your coat, mister.\u201d <\/p>\n

Taking a long look at Charlie\u2019s defiant expression, Grant fairly growled. \u201cKeep it.\u201d <\/p>\n

Charlie held his gaze for a moment before he looked away. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grant gave his Stetson a quick tug to salute the boy\u2019s manners. Snow sprang into the air as the brim of his hat snapped down and up. He watched it be swept up and around by the whipping wind then filter down around his face, becoming part of the blizzard that was getting stronger and meaner every moment.<\/p>\n

Martha nodded. \u201cIf they limited the number of children one man could take, you\u2019d be over it for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grant controlled a shudder of cold as he pulled on his gloves. \u201cWell, thank heavens there\u2019s no limit. The oldest boy and the two older girls are just a year or so away from being out on their own. One of them\u2019s even got a beau. I really need three more to take their places, but I\u2019ll settle for two.\u201d <\/p>\n

Martha looked from one exhausted, filthy child to the other then looked back at Grant. \u201cThe ride back would be terribly hard on them.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grant crouched down in front of the children, sorry for the clink of his spurs which had a harsh sound and might frighten the little girl. Hoping his smile softened his grizzled appearance enough to keep the little girl from running scared, he said, \u201cWell, what kind of man would I be if I stood by watching while something was terribly hard on you two? How\u2019d you like to come out and live on my ranch? I\u2019ve got other kids there, and you\u2019ll fit right in to our family.\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re not going to fit, Grant,\u201d Martha pointed out through chattering teeth. \u201cYour house is overflowing now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grant had to admit she was right. \u201cWhat difference does it make if we\u2019re a little crowded, Martha? We\u2019ll find room.\u201d<\/p>\n

The engineer swung out on the top step of the nearest car, hanging onto a handle in the open door of the huffing locomotive. \u201cAll aboard!\u201d<\/p>\n

The little girl looked fearfully between the train and Grant. <\/p>\n

Looking at the way the little girl clung to Martha\u2019s hand, Grant knew she didn\u2019t want to go off with a strange man almost as much as she didn\u2019t want to get back on that train. <\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll go with you.\u201d The little boy narrowed his eyes as he moved to stand like a cranky guardian angel beside the girl.<\/p>\n

Grant saw no hesitation in the scowling little boy, only concern for the girl. No fear. No second thoughts. He didn\u2019t even look tired compared to the girl and Martha. He had intelligent blue eyes with the slyness a lot of orphans had. Not every child he\u2019d adopted had made the adjustment without trouble. A lot of them took all of Grant\u2019s prayers and patience. Grant smiled to himself. He had an unlimited supply of prayers, and the prayers helped him hang onto the patience.<\/p>\n

Grant shivered under the lash of the blowing snow. <\/p>\n

The boy shrugged out of the coat. \u201cTake your coat back. The cold don\u2019t bother me none.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grant stood upright and gently tugged the huge garment back around the boy\u2019s neck and began buttoning it. \u201cThe cold don\u2019t bother me none, neither. You\u2019ll make a good cowboy, son. We learn to keep going no matter what the weather.\u201d He wished he had another coat because the girl still looked miserable. Truth be told, he wouldn\u2019t have minded one for himself.<\/p>\n

Martha leaned close to Grant\u2019s ear on the side away from the children. \u201cGrant, you need to know that Libby hasn\u2019t spoken a word since we found her. There was a note in her pocket that said she\u2019s mute. She\u2019s got a limp, too. It looks to me like she had a badly broken ankle some years ago that didn\u2019t heal right. I\u2019ll understand if you\u2014\u201d <\/p>\n

Grant pulled away from Martha\u2019s whispers as his eyebrows slammed together. Martha fell silent and gave him a faintly alarmed look. He tried to calm down before he spoke, matching her whisper. \u201cYou\u2019re not going to insult me by suggesting I\u2019d leave a child behind because she has a few problems, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Martha studied him then her expression relaxed. Once more she whispered, \u201cNo Grant. But you did need to be told. The only reason I know her name is because it was on the note. Libby pulled it out of her coat pocket as if she\u2019d done it a thousand times, so chances are this isn\u2019t a new problem, which probably means it\u2019s permanent.\u201d <\/p>\n

Grant nodded his head with one taut jerk. \u201cObliged for the information then. Sorry I got testy.\u201d Grant did his best to make it sound sincere, but it hurt, cut him right to the quick, for Martha to say such a thing to him after all these years.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019m sorry I doubted you.\u201d Martha rested one hand on his upper arm. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t have, not even for a second.\u201d<\/p>\n

Martha eased back and spoke normally again. \u201cWe think Libby\u2019s around six.\u201d She swung Libby\u2019s little hand back and forth, giving the girl an encouraging smile.<\/p>\n

All Grant\u2019s temper melted away as he looked at the child. \u201cHello, Libby.\u201d Crouching back down to the little girl\u2019s eye level, he gave the shivering tyke all of his attention. <\/p>\n

Too tiny for six and too thin for any age, she had long dark hair caught in a single bedraggled braid and blue eyes awash in fear and wishes. Her nose and cheeks were chapped and red. Her lips trembled. Grant hoped it was from the cold and not from looking at the nasty man who wanted to take her away. <\/p>\n

\u201cI think you\u2019ll like living on my ranch. I\u2019ve got the biggest backyard to play in you ever saw. Why, the Rocking C has a mountain rising right up out of the back door. You can collect eggs from the chickens. I\u2019ve got some other kids and they\u2019ll be your brothers and sisters, and we\u2019ve got horses you can ride.\u201d<\/p>\n

Libby\u2019s eyes widened with interest, but she never spoke. Well, he\u2019d had \u2019em shy before. <\/p>\n

\u201cI can see you\u2019ll like that. I\u2019ll start giving you riding lessons as soon as the snow lets up.\u201d Grant ran his hand over his grizzled face. \u201cI should have shaved and made myself more presentable for you young\u2019uns. I reckon I\u2019m a scary sight. But the cattle were acting up this morning. There\u2019s a storm coming, and it makes \u2019em skittish. By the time I could get away, I was afraid I\u2019d miss the train.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grant took Libby\u2019s little hand, careful not to move suddenly and frighten her, and rubbed her fingers on his whiskery face. <\/p>\n

She snatched her hand away, but she grinned. <\/p>\n

The smile transformed Libby\u2019s face. She had eyes that had seen too much and square shoulders that had borne a lifetime of trouble. Grant vowed to himself that he\u2019d devote himself to making her smile. <\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll shave it off before I give you your first good night kiss.\u201d<\/p>\n

The smile faded, and Libby looked at him with such longing Grant\u2019s heart turned over with a father\u2019s love for his new daughter. She\u2019d gotten to him even faster than they usually did.<\/p>\n

Martha reached past Libby to rest her hand on the boy\u2019s shoulder. \u201cAnd Charlie is eleven.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grant pivoted a bit on his toes and looked at Charlie again. A good-looking boy, but so skinny he looked like he\u2019d blow over in a hard wind. Grant could fix that. The boy had flyaway blond hair that needed a wash and a trim. It was the hostility in his eyes that explained why he hadn\u2019t found a home. Grant had seen that look before many times, including in a mirror.<\/p>\n

As if he spoke to another man, Grant said, \u201cCharlie, welcome to the family.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie shrugged as if being adopted meant nothing to him. \u201cAre we supposed to call you pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019d be just fine.\u201d Grant looked back at the little girl. \u201cDoes that suit you, Libby?\u201d<\/p>\n

Libby didn\u2019t take her lonesome eyes off Grant, but she pressed herself against Martha\u2019s leg as if she wanted to disappear into Martha\u2019s long wool coat. <\/p>\n

The engineer shouted, \u201cAll aboard!\u201d The train whistle sounded. A blast of steam shot across the platform a few feet ahead of them. <\/p>\n

Libby jumped and let out a little squeak of surprise. Grant noted that the little girl\u2019s voice worked, so most likely she didn\u2019t talk for reasons of her own, not because of an injury. He wondered if she\u2019d seen something so terrible she couldn\u2019t bear to speak of it.<\/p>\n

The boy reached his hand out for Libby. \u201cWe\u2019ve been together for a long time, Libby. We can go together to the ranch. I\u2019ll take care of you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Libby looked at Charlie as if he were a knight in shining armor. After some hesitation, she released her death grip on Martha and caught Charlie\u2019s hand with both of hers.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid I hear you correctly?\u201d A sharp voice asked from over Grant\u2019s shoulder. \u201cAre you allowing this man to adopt these children?\u201d <\/p>\n

Startled, Grant stood, turned, and bumped against a soft, cranky woman. He almost knocked her onto her backside\u2014the lady who\u2019d been waiting at the depot. He grabbed her or she\u2019d have fallen on the slippery wood. Grant steadied her, warm and alive in his hands. <\/p><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1084","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1084","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1084"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1084\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1086,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1084\/revisions\/1086"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1084"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1084"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1084"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}