{"id":11924,"date":"2012-05-31T23:16:58","date_gmt":"2012-06-01T04:16:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=11924"},"modified":"2012-05-31T23:16:58","modified_gmt":"2012-06-01T04:16:58","slug":"marys-blessing-by-lena-nelson-dooley","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=11924","title":{"rendered":"Mary’s Blessing by Lena Nelson Dooley"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span> 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><\/span><\/p>\n

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

 <\/p>\n

Lena Nelson Dooley<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

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

 <\/p>\n

Mary’s Blessing<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n
Realms (May 15, 2012)<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

***Special thanks to Althea Thompson | Publicity Coordinator, Charisma House | Charisma Media for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n

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

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/div>\n

Lena Nelson Dooley is an award-winning author with more than 650,000 books in print. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers\u2014where she received the Mentor of the Year award in 2006\u2014DFW Ready Writers, and Christian Authors Network. She lives in Hurst, Texas, with her husband of over 45 years.<\/p>\n

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

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>
\nMary Lenora Murray was adopted by parents who had recently lost a child while on the last wagon train west in 1867. When she is thirteen years old, Mary\u2019s mother and her two older sisters die in the cholera pandemic, leaving her the oldest child with four younger siblings to raise. Her father, in his grief, pours himself into keeping the farm going, leaving the running of the home entirely in Mary\u2019s hands.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $13.99
\nPaperback: 304 pages
\nPublisher: Realms (May 15, 2012)
\nLanguage: English
\nISBN-10: 1616386177
\nISBN-13: 978-1616386177
\nAND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Pa?\u201d Mary Lenora Murray shouted back over her shoulder as she picked up the heavy picnic basket. \u201cYou ready to go?\u201d Why does he always drag his feet when we\u2019re going to church?Her father came through the mud room into the kitchen, letting the screen door slam shut behind him. He smelled of heat, hay, and sunshine, with the strong tang of muck from the barn mingled in. By the looks of his clothes, attending church was the farthest thing from his mind. His ratty trousers held smudges of several dark colors. She didn\u2019t even want to guess what they were. And the long sleeves of his undershirt, the only thing covering his torso, were shoved above his elbows. Grayed and dingy, the shirt would never be white again, no matter how hard she tried to get it clean.<\/p>\n

Mary bit her tongue to keep from scolding him as she did her younger brothers and sister when they made such a racket entering the house. No doubt he would give her some excuse about having too much work to go to church. Not a big surprise. She\u2019d heard it all before too many times.<\/p>\n

He set a bucket of fresh water beside the dry sink and gripped his fingers around the front straps of his suspenders. That always signaled he was about to tell her something she didn\u2019t want to hear.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not going today.\u201d This time he didn\u2019t really make any excuses, just this bald-faced comment.<\/p>\n

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm her anger. She\u2019d give him a sweet answer even if the words tasted bitter in her mouth. \u201cThe new pastor is coming today. We\u2019re having dinner on the grounds after the service. Remember, I told you when we got home last Sunday.\u201d She flashed what she hoped was a warm smile at him and prayed he couldn\u2019t tell it
\nwas fake.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened to the last one? He didn\u2019t last very long, did he?\u201d Pa started washing his hands with the bar of homemade soap she kept in a dish on the shelf. \u201cDon\u2019t understand why that church can\u2019t keep a pastor. Someone musta run him off.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mary couldn\u2019t keep from huffing out a breath this time. \u201cI told you about that too.\u201d She clamped her lips closed before she asked the question that often bounced around her mind. Why don\u2019t you ever listen to me? At seventeen she was close enough to being an adult to be treated like one, and she\u2019d carried the load of a woman in this household for years.<\/p>\n

\u201cHis wife died, and his father-in-law begged him to bring the grandchildren closer to where they live, so he headed back to Ohio. Living in the same community as their grandparents, he\u2019d have a lot of help with the younger ones.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mary had never known her own grandparents, none of them. Not her mother\u2019s parents. Not her father\u2019s parents. Not the par- ents of whoever gave birth to her. She didn\u2019t wonder about any of them very often, but today her heart longed for someone who really loved her.<\/p>\n

With bright red curly hair and fair skin that freckled more every time she stepped into the sunlight, she didn\u2019t resemble anyone in this family that had adopted her as an infant. Since they were black Irish, they all had dark hair and striking blue eyes, not like her murky green ones. And none of them had ever wanted to know what she thought about anything\u2014except her mother.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019ve gotta lot to do today.\u201d Her father reached for the towel she\u2019d made out of feed sacks. \u201cYou and the others go ahead. I might come over that way at dinner time.\u201d<\/p>\n

No, you won\u2019t. Mary had heard his statement often enough to know he was trying to placate her so she would leave him alone. So she would.<\/p>\n

\u201cFrances, George, Bobby, come on. We don\u2019t want to be late.\u201d<\/p>\n

She shifted the handle of the loaded basket to her other arm. \u201cFrances, you grab the jug of spring water. We might get thirsty.\u201d Her father\u2019s icy blue eyes pierced her. \u201cPretty warm out today.<\/p>\n

No sign of rain.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll be picnicking in the field between the church and Willamette Falls. It\u2019s cooler there, especially under the trees with the breeze blowing across the water.\u201d She started toward the front door.<\/p>\n

\u201cKeep your eyes on the boys.\u201d His harsh command followed her. \u201cDon\u2019t let either of them fall into the river. They could drown. Water\u2019s fast right there.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded but didn\u2019t answer or look back at him. All he cared about were those boys and getting them raised old enough to really help with the farming. He already worked them harder than any of the neighbors did their sons who were the same ages.<\/p>\n

Six long years ago her mother and older sisters contracted diphtheria when they went to help Aunt Miriam and Uncle Leland settle in their house on a farm about five miles from theirs. On the trip to Oregon one of them had contracted the dread disease and didn\u2019t know it until after they arrived. No one knew they were all dead until Pa went looking for Ma, Carrie, and Annette a couple of days later. He saw the quarantine sign someone nailed to a fence post and didn\u2019t go closer until he had help. When he came home, he told Mary she would have to take over the keeping of the house. Six long years ago.<\/p>\n

When did my life become such drudgery? Had it ever been any- thing else? At least not since Ma died, which seemed like an eternity ago.<\/p>\n

Daniel Winthrop whistled while he dressed for church. He looked forward with anticipation to the moment when he would lay eyes on Mary Murray. Even her name had a musical ring to it.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d been waiting and planning what to say when he approached her. Today he would start his subtle courting. With the situation at the Murray farm, he knew he would have his work cut out for him to convince her she could start a life of her own with him. After he achieved that, he\u2019d ask her father for her hand.<\/p>\n

Visions of coming home to her each night and building a family together moved through his head like the slides of photo- graphs in the Holmes stereopticon they had at home. He loved her already, but more than that, he wanted to get her out of that house, where she was loaded down with so much work and responsibility.<\/p>\n

Daniel had often gone with his mother when she bought fresh produce from the Murrays, so he knew what her life had been like since her mother died. Their families came to Oregon on the same wagon train, so he\u2019d known her all his life. He was only three years older than she was, and he had watched her over the last few years as she blossomed into a beautiful young woman.<\/p>\n

Mary needed to be appreciated and cared for, and he was just the man to do it.<\/p>\n

\u201cDaniel, we\u2019re leaving soon.\u201d His father\u2019s voice prodded him from his dreams.<\/p>\n

With a final peek into the tall cheval glass, he straightened his necktie before he headed out the door of his room. \u201cI\u2019m on my way.\u201d<\/p>\n

He bounded down the stairs and took their picnic basket from his mother. \u201cSomething really smells good.\u201d He gave a loud sniff. \u201cDo you need me to test and make sure it\u2019s all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

He welcomed her playful slap on his hand that crept toward the cover on the basket. Her laughter reminded him of the chimes he had heard in the larger church in Portland.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot a single bite until dinner.\u201d Like a queen, she swept out the door Father held open for her.<\/p>\n

Their familiar ritual warmed his heart. He looked forward to creating family rituals with Mary. Once more he whistled as he headed toward the brougham. Nothing could cloud his day.<\/p>\n

When they pulled up to the Methodist church, his father guided the team toward the back, where a large area paved with fine gravel gave plenty of space for those who arrived in horse- drawn vehicles. While Father helped Mother down from the open carriage, Daniel took the reins and tied them to one of the hitching rails that outlined the space. He chose the rail under
\na spreading black cottonwood tree where the limbs were just beginning to show the leaf buds.<\/p>\n

He scanned the lot, looking for the Murray wagon. Not there. Disappointed, he stared at the ground. Please, God, let Mary come today.<\/p>\n

Clopping hoofs and a jingling harness accompanied a wagon taking too fast of a turn into the parking area. Daniel cut his eyes toward the advancing disaster. Two of the wheels did indeed lift from the ground. Before he could get a shout out of his mouth, he heard Mary\u2019s sweet voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cLean to the right, boys!\u201d<\/p>\n

George and Bobby, Mary\u2019s brothers, scrambled across the seat, followed by Frances. The wagon wheels settled into the gravel, and Mary pulled on the reins.<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy. Settle down.\u201d Even though she spoke to the horses, he heard every word.<\/p>\n

His heart that had almost leapt from his chest also settled down when he realized she was no longer in danger. Thank You, Lord.<\/p>\n

The wagon came to a standstill, and Mary put her dainty hand to her chest and released a deep breath. The green cotton fabric, sprigged with white flowers, looked good on her, setting off her red hair, pulled up into a bunch on the top of her head. Without a hat or bonnet covering it, the sun danced across the curls. He loved seeing the wisps frame her face. That\u2019s how he pictured her when he dreamed about their future.<\/p>\n

Mary sat a moment without moving. She was probably scared out of her wits. Where was her father? He should have been driving the wagon, not her. How long had it been since the man had attended services? Daniel couldn\u2019t remember the last time. It was not a good thing for a man to neglect his spiritual nature. He\u2019d just have to pray harder for Mr. Murray.<\/p>\n

Daniel hurried toward them. \u201cHi, Mary.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked up, straight into his eyes, fear still flickering in the back of her gaze. \u201cDaniel. Good morning.\u201d Her words came out riding on short breaths.<\/p>\n

He took hold of the bridle of the horse nearest him. \u201cI can hitch your team under the trees for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

After releasing another deep breath, Mary nodded. \u201cThank you. I\u2019d like that.\u201d She turned toward her siblings. \u201cFrances, you get the picnic basket, and George, you carry the jug of water. Go find us a pew, perhaps near the back of the sanctuary, and put the things under the bench. I\u2019ll be right in.\u201d<\/p>\n

The younger children climbed out of the wagon and followed their sister\u2019s instructions. Mary watched them until they\u2019d gone around the side of the building toward the front. Then she stood up.<\/p>\n

Before she could try to climb over the side, Daniel hurried to help. He held out his hand to her. She stared at it, then looked at his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll help you down.\u201d He gave her his most beguiling smile. For the first time since she arrived, she smiled back, and pink bled up her neck into her cheeks. Her blush went straight to his heart. Oh, yes, he loved this woman.<\/p>\n

Mary slipped her slim fingers into his hand. Even through the white cotton gloves, he felt the connection as warmth sparked up his arm like fireworks on Independence Day. She glanced down so she could see the step. When she hesitated, he let go of her hand and both of his spanned her tiny waist. With a deft swing, he had her on the ground in seconds. He wished he had the right to pull her into an embrace. Wouldn\u2019t that just set the tongues a-wagging? He couldn\u2019t do that to her. Mary needed to be cherished for the treasure she was. And as far as Daniel could see, her father really didn\u2019t treat her that way.<\/p>\n

He watched her walk toward the front of the building, enjoying the way her skirt swayed with each step, barely brushing the tops of her black patent shoes. That is one beau- tiful woman. He turned back to her team. Walking beside the horses, he led them toward the hitching rail where his family\u2019s brougham was parked, hoping it would give him the oppor- tunity to help her back up onto the wagon seat. As he crossed the lot, several other conveyances entered, and he waved and exchanged greetings with each family.<\/p>\n

The church was the first one established in Oregon City. At that time, it was the Methodist Mission but grew as the town did. Along the way, members of this body had a great influence on what happened in the burgeoning city. And that was still true today. His Winthrop ancestors, who settled nearby, had been instrumental in both the growth of the church and of the town. He felt a sense of pride at being a part of something that important, and he wanted to increase the town\u2019s assets, because he planned to raise his own family here. Maybe establish a dynasty of his own, watching his sons and daughters, then his grandchildren, prosper.<\/p>\n

His woolgathering slowed the progress of tying the horses to their spot. He needed to hurry so he wouldn\u2019t miss the begin- ning of the service. As he opened the front door, Mrs. Slidell struck the first chord on the new Mason and Hamlin reed organ. The church had ordered the instrument from the manufacturing plant in Buffalo, New York. When it arrived only a couple of weeks before, the music added a special feeling to the worship and helped most people stay on the right tune better than the old piano did. He hummed along with the introduction to \u201cWhat a Friend We Have in Jesus,\u201d his favorite hymn.<\/p>\n

Glancing around the room, Daniel finally spied Mary and her siblings sitting on the second pew from the back on the right side of the aisle. He squared his shoulders and confidently approached the wooden bench. He asked if he could sit with them, and she scooted over to make room. Just what he wanted. He would be sitting right beside her.<\/p>\n

Throughout the service, Daniel had a hard time keeping his mind on the proceedings. Mary sat close enough for him to touch her if he leaned a little to his right. He was so tempted to bump against her arm, but he held back. He imagined clasping her hand in his and holding it for longer than just a few seconds while helping her down from a conveyance or through a doorway, really wrapping his large fingers around hers and intertwining their fingers. Just thinking about it caught his breath.<\/p>\n

He whooshed it out, and she turned toward him, her eyes wid- ening with a question. After flashing a smile at her, he glanced up at Rev. Horton. The man\u2019s delivery was smooth, and his words made a lot of sense. He\u2019d be a good pastor for them, but Daniel couldn\u2019t keep a single word of his message in his mind. Not while he could feel Mary\u2019s presence with every cell in his body.<\/p>\n

Instead, in his mind he searched up and down the streets of Oregon City, seeking a place to turn into a home for him and his beloved. If the right house wasn\u2019t for sale, he could build her one. She could help him choose the design. That\u2019s what he\u2019d do. Build her the home she\u2019d always dreamed of. His heart squeezed with the knowledge of what he planned to do. He could hardly keep the idea to himself. He hoped it wouldn\u2019t take too long for him to convince her that they should marry.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d even hire servants to help her manage their home. Whatever her heart desired, he\u2019d do everything he could to present her with all she wanted. He only hoped it wouldn\u2019t take too long. At twenty years old, he was ready to move on to the next phase of his life\u2014with Mary by his side.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow let us bow our heads in prayer.\u201d Rev. Horton raised his hands to bless the whole congregation.<\/p>\n

Daniel dropped his head toward his chest. How had the man finished his sermon without Daniel noticing? Next Sunday he\u2019d have to listen more closely. He really did want to get to know the new pastor and his family.<\/p>\n

\u201cAmen.\u201d After the pastor pronounced the word, several other men echoed it.<\/p>\n

Daniel watched his father rise from the second pew near the front on the left side of the aisle and take his place beside the new preacher. He placed his arm across the man\u2019s shoulders. \u201cDear friends, on your behalf, I welcome our new pastor. Now let\u2019s all meet his lovely family.\u201d He waved toward a woman sitting on the front pew. \u201cMrs. Horton?\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman stood and turned toward the congregation. She was pretty, but not as young or as pretty as Mary.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd,\u201d Father\u2019s voice boomed, \u201cthese are their children.\u201d<\/p>\n

Four stair-step youngsters stood beside their mother. The tallest, a boy. The next, a girl. Then another boy, and the shortest, a cute little girl. As if they had rehearsed it, they bowed toward the people in unison.<\/p>\n

Several women across the sanctuary oooed or aahed before a loud round of applause broke out. The three oldest children gave shy smiles, and the youngest tugged at her mother\u2019s skirts. When Mrs. Horton picked her up, the girl waved to the people, clearly enjoying the attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope you all brought your blankets and picnic baskets.\u201d Father beamed at the crowd. \u201cWe\u2019re going to spread our food together. I believe there are plenty of sawhorse tables set up near the building. And you can pick a spot under the trees to settle for your meal. Just don\u2019t forget to take the time to greet our new ministerial family while you\u2019re here.\u201d Father led the Horton family down the aisle and out the front door.<\/p>\n

Daniel turned back toward Mary. \u201cPerhaps you and your brothers and sister could spread your blanket beside my family\u2019s.\u201d A tiny smile graced Mary\u2019s sweet mouth. \u201cIf you\u2019re sure your mother wouldn\u2019t mind, I\u2019d like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes. I\u2019m sure.\u201d He stepped into the nearly empty aisle and moved back to let Mary and her family precede him, and he quickly followed behind.<\/p>\n

His heartbeat accelerated just thinking about spending spe- cial time with the object of his affections. Without thinking, he started whistling a happy tune.<\/p>\n

Mary glanced back at him. \u201cI didn\u2019t know you whistled.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes. I\u2019m a man of many talents.\u201d His heart leapt at the interest he read in her gaze. Things were well on their way to working out just the way he wanted them to.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>MY REVIEW:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Mary’s Blessing<\/a>\u00a0 is the second book in the McKenna Daughters<\/strong><\/em> series by Lena Nelson Dooley and features Mary Lenora Murray, one of the McKenna triplets who had been adopted by another family when her mother died in childbirth. Approaching marriageable age, Mary is so busy taking care of the household responsibilities and her younger siblings that she has very little hope that life will ever be any different. Daniel Winthrop has other ideas. He is very aware of how hard Mary works and would like nothing better than to marry her and make her life easier. When she accepts his request to court her, Daniel begins to make big plans for their future. Unfortunately life does no always cooperate with the best laid plans and Mary’s father suffers a serious accident that puts both Mary and Daniel to the test.<\/p>\n

Although at first glance\u00a0Mary’s Blessing<\/a> appears to be much like other novels of this genre, it has a lot to recommend it. At the beginning of the story, both Mary and Daniel are obviously immature and not nearly as ready for marriage as they think they are. Mary’s dad has been so immersed in his grief that he doesn’t realize the burdens he has placed on Mary. And Mary’s younger sister is mostly self-centered and uncooperative much of the time. I liked how each of the characters progressed naturally as a result of their trials, especially the way the younger ones matured and grew in their faith.<\/p>\n

Mary’s Blessing<\/a> is not always an easy story to read because it depicts difficult and sometimes heartbreaking situations. But such is life and Dooley’s characters are so real-to-life that the reader will quickly grow to care about each one of them and rejoice with them as they manage to overcome the obstacles in their paths. I am looking forward to the third installment of the series and hope to see the triplets reunited.<\/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":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,34,41,44],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11924","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-historical","category-romance","category-western"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11924","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=11924"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11924\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11937,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11924\/revisions\/11937"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11924"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11924"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11924"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}