{"id":13333,"date":"2012-10-17T18:04:06","date_gmt":"2012-10-17T23:04:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=13333"},"modified":"2012-10-17T18:04:06","modified_gmt":"2012-10-17T23:04:06","slug":"christmas-at-holly-hill-by-martha-rogers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=13333","title":{"rendered":"Christmas at Holly Hill by Martha Rogers"},"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

Martha Rogers <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

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

 <\/p>\n

Christmas at Holly Hill<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n
Realms (September 4, 2012)<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
***Special thanks to Althea Thompson for sending me a review copy.***<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

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

 <\/p>\n

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

Martha Rogers\u2019s novel Not on the Menu debuted on May 1, 2007, as a part of Sugar and Grits, a novella collection with DiAnn Mills, Janice Thompson, and Kathleen Y\u2019Barbo. Her series Winds Across the Prairie debuted in 2010 with Becoming Lucy, Morning for Dove, Finding Becky, and Caroline\u2019s Choice. Her other credits include stories in anthologies with Wayne Holmes, Karen Holmes, and Debra White Smith; several articles in Christian magazines; devotionals in six books of devotions; and eight Bible studies. Martha served as editor of a monthly newsletter for the writer\u2019s organization Inspirational Writers Alive! for six years and is the state president. She is also the director for the annual Texas Christian Writer\u2019s Conference and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, for whom she writes a weekly devotional. Martha and her husband are active members of First Baptist Church.<\/p>\n

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

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

\"\"<\/a>Can Clayton Barlow prove he has changed his ways in time for Christmas?<\/p>\n

It is October 1898, and Clayton Barlow has just returned home after serving time in prison for his part in a bank robbery. His family welcomes him, but the townspeople are skeptical. Bored with life in the small town but determined to make a new start, he goes to work with his father, hoping to regain the town\u2019s trust.<\/p>\n

Clayton recognizes the schoolteacher at the Prairie Grove School as his childhood friend, Merry Lee Warner, and old feelings surface. Still, he doubts that he could ever get a woman like Merry to love him.<\/p>\n

As the townspeople prepare for Christmas, their suspicions about Clayton lead to trouble. Will the trusting heart of an unlikely new friend be enough to restore Clayton\u2019s relationships with his neighbors and reunite him with God and Merry?<\/p>\n

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

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $13.99<\/p>\n

Paperback: 304 pages<\/p>\n

Publisher: Realms (September 4, 2012)<\/p>\n

Language: English<\/p>\n

ISBN-10: 1616388374<\/p>\n

ISBN-13: 978-1616388379<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

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

\n

Prairie Grove, Kansas, October 1898 <\/em>Home for Thanksgiving and Christmas! Clay\u2019s heart pumped blood through his veins at a<\/p>\n

frantic pace. After serving five years for his part in a bank robbery, he\u2019d be home for his two favorite holidays. The question looming in his soul was whether he\u2019d be welcomed by anyone other than his parents.<\/p>\n

The train hissed and steamed its way into the station with a blast of the whistle as Clay peered through the window. When the cars came to a screeching stop, he remained in his seat, fear gripping his heart. The conductor stopped in the aisle.<\/p>\n

\u201cSon, this is your stop. Time to get off.\u201d<\/p>\n

Clay willed himself to stand and make his way down the aisle. No one would be here to greet him since no one knew he\u2019d be on the train. He\u2019d planned it all as a surprise, espe- cially for his mother. He stepped to the platform, gripping the handle of the small bag containing all his worldly possessions. Around him the trees wore their best fall colors in welcome, and as Clay made his way to the street in front of the depot, he drank in the sight he\u2019d seen only in his dreams for the past five years.<\/p>\n

The good citizens of Prairie Grove moved about on their way to one place or another, oblivious to his presence. The livery still stood close to the station with the post office nearby, and right next to it a new addition announced itself in gold letters. The telegraph office was now the Prairie Grove Telephone and Telegraph center. His hometown had grown more than he realized.<\/p>\n

He spotted the hotel and the Red Garter Saloon a few blocks away, then he breathed deeply of the fresh smell of baking bread drifting from the bakery next to his father\u2019s store. The green and yellow letters on the sign hanging in front welcomed customers to Barlow\u2019s General Store, still the only mercantile in town. A slight breeze<\/p>\n

sent the sign swinging with a creak he heard from his position near the depot. Dust whirls danced across the street where he\u2019d once played with other boys his age.<\/p>\n

By Christmas those streets would most likely be filled with snow, and snowball fights would be the game of the day at the school. His days at the red clapboard schoolhouse had been some of the happiest of life. He viewed the bell tower of the school at the end of the street and could almost hear the sound of it clanging in his memory.<\/p>\n

Doubt lodged in Clay\u2019s throat, but he kept walking to the store. When he stepped through the door, it could well have<\/p>\n

been ten years ago when he helped Pa. He inhaled the familiar smells of coal oil, fresh ground coffee, fabric dye, and pepper- mint candy. Nothing had changed.<\/p>\n

Then he spotted his ma. He observed her for a minute or two, savoring the sight of her graying hair and slight frame. She didn\u2019t move as fast as she once had, and she stopped to catch her breath after placing some items on a shelf.<\/p>\n

From the corner of his eye he saw his father coming from the storeroom. A good five inches shorter than Clay, Pa\u2019s sturdy frame handled the box in his arms with ease. He turned to set the box on the counter, and Clay cringed the moment his father recognized him. The meeting he both dreaded and anticipated had come.<\/p>\n

Pa didn\u2019t move from behind the counter. He simply stared for what seemed an eternity but in reality amounted to only seconds. His words barely reached Clay\u2019s ears. \u201cSon, you\u2019ve come home.\u201d<\/p>\n

At Clay\u2019s nod his father stepped around the counter and called to Ma. \u201cCora, our boy is home.\u201d<\/p>\n

A can clattered to the floor, and his mother turned with hands to her mouth. She hurried toward him and hugged him. \u201cThank You, Lord, for bringing him home safe.\u201d Tears glis- tened in her eyes. \u201cI\u2019ve waited and waited for this moment to come.\u201d She reached up and placed her hands on each side of his face then kissed his cheeks.<\/p>\n

Heat rose in his face, but Ma\u2019s arms and kisses were the welcome he\u2019d hoped for in the past few days of travel. His arms went around her thin frame. She\u2019d lost a good deal of weight since the last time he\u2019d seen her, and that bothered him more than his earlier observations.<\/p>\n

He glanced up at his father. His graying hair had thinned some, and his eyes held both a welcome and uncertainty. Gaining Pa\u2019s trust would take time.<\/p>\n

His parents stood in front of him and shook their heads. Pa wrapped his arm around Ma. \u201cWe\u2019ve waited a long time for this day. Thank God you made it home.\u201d<\/p>\n

Clay didn\u2019t know what God had to do with anything, since it had been Pa who had turned Clay over to the authorities five years ago. The road back would be long and hard, but then that\u2019s no more than he\u2019d expected.<\/p>\n

Ma grabbed his hands. \u201cAre you planning on staying here in Prairie Grove with us? You\u2019re not going to get mixed up with those . . . those . . . thieves again, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Before Clay could answer, Pa added his own sentiments. \u201cIf you do decide to stay, I expect you to stay away from them. If you don\u2019t, you won\u2019t be welcome here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Clay stiffened but kept his voice neutral. \u201cI understand, Pa, but I\u2019m not going to get mixed up with Karl\u2019s gang again. I would like to stay as long as you\u2019ll have me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Or until the townspeople ran him off. Two older women in the corner eyed him and whispered between themselves. The prodigal had returned, but not everyone welcomed him. He nodded to the ladies, who immediately turned their backs. So much for the town\u2019s greeting.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course we want you to live here with us,\u201d Ma said, not even seeming to notice the ladies. \u201cNow let\u2019s go upstairs and get you settled in. I know you\u2019re hungry. You always were, and I have supper almost ready.\u201d She held onto his arm and led him to the stairway up to the living quarters above the store.<\/p>\n

A voice calling his name stopped him at the bottom. He odded for his mother to go on up and turned to find an old riend, Jimmy Shanks, grinning from ear to ear. \u201cIt is you, Clay Barlow.\u201d The blond-headed young man reached out to grasp Clay\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, it\u2019s me. I decided to come home, Jimmy.\u201d He grasped the outstretched hand and blinked at the strength in the grasp.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s James now, and I\u2019m married to Grace Ann Higgins.\u201d Clay had to chuckle at that revelation. Grace Ann had run<\/p>\n

away from Jimmy every time he\u2019d tried to get close.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, you finally got Grace Ann\u2019s attention. I\u2019m glad since you always liked her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll have to come out to the house for dinner some night so we can catch up on old times.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll think on that, Jimmy . . . James.\u201d Not much to catch up on from his side since he\u2019d been behind prison bars for five years. \u201cAnd you\u2019d better check with Grace Ann. She might not cotton to having an ex-con at her dinner table.\u201d<\/p>\n

James blinked. \u201cDon\u2019t you worry none about that; we\u2019ll always be friends.\u201d He stepped back and picked up his pur- chase. \u201cHad to pick up some coal oil. With the days getting shorter, we need more of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Clay walked with him to the door and stepped outside with James, who shook Clay\u2019s hand once again. \u201cI\u2019m so glad you\u2019re home. This is one Christmas your parents will be glad to celebrate.\u201d With a grin and a salute he stepped down to the street and mounted his horse. \u201cSee you around, Clay.\u201d<\/p>\n

If he\u2019d stayed good friends with Jimmy instead of getting mixed up with Karl, things would have been much different. Still, the warm welcome from his old friend and the greeting from his parents lightened the load in Clay\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n

If Pa would have him, Clay wanted to work again in the tore. Being locked up with bad food, hard cots, little sunshine, and no privacy motivated him to stay out of trouble. He\u2019d had a lot of time to think in prison, and one thing remained sure and steadfast. Clayton Barlow would not end up behind bars ever again.<\/p>\n

Merry Warner stepped onto the boardwalk up the street from the school where she taught. The wonderful aroma of cin- namon stopped her in front of the bakery. Cinnamon buns for breakfast in the morning would make up for her being late this afternoon. She hurried up to the counter where Mr. Brooks placed fresh pies into the case. On second thought, two pecan pies for supper tonight would be even better.<\/p>\n

She grinned at the baker, who reminded her of the pictures she\u2019d seen of Santa Claus, right down to the white beard and rosy cheeks. \u201cI\u2019ll have two of those pecan pies. I\u2019m sure Mama will appreciate them for supper tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood choice, Miss Warner. We had a good crop of pecans this year, so Mrs. Brooks is busy with recipes using the nuts.\u201d Mr. Brooks placed each pie in a paper bag then tied the top closed with string. \u201cThere, that should make them easier to carry.\u201d<\/p>\n

She plunked several coins onto the counter and picked up her purchase. \u201cI hope she makes some of that pumpkin bread for the holidays.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Brooks laughed. \u201cOh, she will. I\u2019m sure of that. You have a nice evening now, and tell your ma I said hello.\u201d<\/p>\n

Merry nodded and hurried out to be on her way. She<\/p>\n

stopped short when she spotted a man standing in front of the eneral store next door. A gasp escaped her lips, and her heart skipped a beat. He looked just like Clay Barlow, but Clay was in prison. Surely she would have heard if he had come home.<\/p>\n

He turned, and his gaze locked with hers. Recognition shot through her with streaks of delight that dissipated almost as soon as they began. No one but Clay had eyes so dark a brown that they penetrated to her very soul.<\/p>\n

How could Clay be out of prison already? Then she counted and realized five years had indeed passed since he\u2019d gone away. When Grandma Collins had said she needed Mama and Papa to come back and take care of the orphanage at Holly Hill, Merry\u2019s heart had been torn apart. She loved Barton Creek and wanted to stay there, but the memory of her years in Prairie Grove beckoned for her to return. One of those memories included Clay Barlow and the schoolgirl crush she\u2019d had on him before he got involved with Karl Laramie\u2019s gang.<\/p>\n

Shoving aside her misgivings, she gave in to her delight and ran up to hug Clay. \u201cClay Barlow, it\u2019s been too many years.\u201d Heat filled her face, and she jumped back. She was no longer a sixteen-year-old girl but a young woman who should practice better manners befitting her age.<\/p>\n

Clay\u2019s eyes opened wide in surprise. \u201cMerry?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. We moved back to Holly Hill last summer after Grandpa died. I\u2019m so glad you\u2019re home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad to be here too.\u201d He stepped back. \u201cIt . . . it\u2019s nice to see you. I . . . I . . . \u201d His voice trailed off, and he glanced over her shoulder. Without another word he bolted through the door to the store.<\/p>\n

Merry stood with her mouth agape. How rude. Then she urned and saw three women staring at her with disapproval written all over them. Mrs. Pennyfeather, wife of the school superintendent, shook her head and frowned.<\/p>\n

Heat rose in Merry\u2019s face again. They\u2019d seen her greeting Clay. No sense in trying to apologize. Mrs. Pennyfeather wouldn\u2019t listen anyway. Merry gathered up her pies and fled up the hill toward Holly Hill Home for Children. Along the way her thoughts whirled. She had never expected to see Clay again, figuring that he\u2019d be too ashamed to come back to his hometown. What could his return mean?<\/p>\n

She burst through the door then closed it and braced her- self against the smooth wood. Her heart pounded not only from the long walk but also from seeing Clay again.<\/p>\n

Imogene and Eileen raced over to grab her around the waist. The blonde-haired ten-year-old-twins wore matching blue-and-white striped dresses with white pinafores over them.<\/p>\n

Eileen eyed the bags in Merry\u2019s hands. \u201cYou went by the bakery. What did you bring?\u201d She reached for one of the bags.<\/p>\n

Merry held it high. \u201cNot until after supper. Then we\u2019ll have pecan pie.\u201d<\/p>\n

Imogene jumped up and down, her pigtails bouncing on her shoulders. \u201cThat\u2019s my favorite. Oh, I love you, Merry.\u201d The young girl wrapped her arms about Merry\u2019s waist again.<\/p>\n

Emmaline appeared with a stack of silverware in her hands. \u201cIt\u2019s about time you got here. Mama Warner could use your help.\u201d<\/p>\n

Merry set the pie bags on a table near the door and unwound Imogene\u2019s arms. \u201cI\u2019m sorry I\u2019m late. I stayed at the school to prepare the lessons for tomorrow. Did you know we have ten different varieties of trees around our school building?\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmaline shook her head. \u201cNo, and I don\u2019t care right now. Are you going to help me or not?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I\u2019m on my way.\u201d Merry removed her shawl and bonnet then hung them on a hook by the door in the entry hall. She picked up the pies and made her way to the kitchen. Emmaline plunked the silverware onto the table behind Merry. At thir- teen Emmaline had begun to rebel against doing so many chores around the home, but Mama could usually get her to cooperate.<\/p>\n

Merry sighed and pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen. She kissed her mother\u2019s plump cheek. \u201cSorry I\u2019m late. I got detained at school.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mama ladled stew into bowls and set them on a tray. \u201cI figured as much. Check the cornbread for me. Supper\u2019s about ready.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grandma Collins opened up the bakery sacks. \u201cPecan pie\u2014now that\u2019s going to make for a good dessert. Thank you, Merry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI figured since I was so late coming home, I might as well contribute something to the meal.\u201d Merry opened the oven door and removed two pans of cornbread. She set them on the counter and reached up to the shelf to grab a plate for serving it. She turned one pan onto the counter then cut it into squares and arranged them on the plate.<\/p>\n

\u201cMama, did you know Clay Barlow came home?\u201d<\/p>\n

The ladle stopped, dripping stew back into the pot. Mama stood still for a few seconds, as did Grandma. \u201cNo, I didn\u2019t. Has it been five years already?\u201d She shook her head. \u201cSuch promise that boy had before he got into so much trouble. Where did you see him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOutside the store. I\u2019m . . . I\u2019m afraid I made a spectacle of myself. I ran up and hugged him because I was so glad to see him back. The problem is, Mrs. Pennyfeather and her friends saw the whole thing. They weren\u2019t too happy about it either.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mama laid the spoon aside and reached over to pat Merry\u2019s shoulder. \u201cI\u2019m sure they\u2019ll get over it. How did he seem?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. Embarrassed to see me, I guess. He didn\u2019t say much.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mama nodded sagely. \u201cIt\u2019s been seven years since we moved away from Holly Hill and went to Barton Creek. You were only sixteen when you thought you were so in love with him. Being in prison changes a man, so he won\u2019t be that same boy you liked so much back then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, Mama. It just seems strange that he would be released and come home not long after we moved back home.\u201d Grandma shook her head. \u201cI don\u2019t know what<\/p>\n

happened to that boy. I always liked him. Maybe he\u2019s learned his lesson and will make something of himself yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

Papa chose that minute to swing open the back door and enter the kitchen with Henry and Kenny. The boys\u2019 arms were filled with logs for the fire. Papa planted a kiss on Mama\u2019s fore- head then motioned to the boys, who had unloaded their wood into the bin near the stove. \u201cLet\u2019s get washed up and have some of Mama\u2019s stew.\u201d<\/p>\n

Merry finished piling the cornbread onto a plate and headed to the dining room with it. More talk with Mama and Grandma about Clay would have to wait until they were alone.<\/p>\n

She settled in for dinner with her family. Although none of the children were actually her brothers or sisters, every one of them held that place in her heart after the few months she\u2019d been back here with them. Emmaline and Henry had lived at the orphanage the longest, with Kenny and Robert next, but those two had been babies when her family had left. The rest were new to her, but she\u2019d grown to love them quickly. Each one had their own tale of tragedy and loss.<\/p>\n

Papa stood behind his chair and bowed his head to ask the blessing on the meal. Papa never varied his blessing, using the one his pa had taught him growing up. Merry only half listened to the familiar words until Papa took a new turn. \u201cAnd Father, we ask thy blessings on young Clay Barlow. Guide him on the right path now that he\u2019s served his time and come home. May we act and think kindly toward him. Amen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Merry swallowed hard and blinked her eyes. She lifted her gaze to her father\u2019s and saw understanding in their blue depths. Around her the others clamored to know who Clay was and why Papa prayed for him. She bit her lip and bowed her head. No man or boy had claimed her heart like Clay. From the encounter this afternoon, she realized he still pos- sessed a piece of it, and she had no idea what to do with that revelation.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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

Christmas at Holly Hill<\/a> is a feel-good historical western romance about second chances. The latest release from Rogers’ Winds Across the Prairie<\/strong><\/em> series,\u00a0Christmas at Holly Hill<\/a> is the perfect book to get readers in the mood for the Christmas season.\u00a0 With vivid imagery and details about life in a small prairie town that includes celebrations and holiday traditions, the reader can experience a step back in time to the old west.<\/p>\n

Clay Barlow’s return home to Prairie Grove after serving five years in prison is met with a less than perfect welcome. While his parents and a few of his old friends are happy to see him, many of the townspeople greet him with a cold shoulder at best. Vicious gossips are even bold enough to disparage him within his and his mother’s hearing. His school days sweetheart Merry is eager to renew their friendship and Clay would like nothing better but he fears their friendship could reflect negatively on her reputation. The burning question is “Can Clay prove to the town that he is a changed man and redeem himself so that he can pursue a future with Merry or is it futile for him to hope?” I can tell you that things will get worse before they get better but that is all I will say.<\/p>\n

Read Christmas at Holly Hill<\/a> for yourself and enjoy a sweet novel filled with romance, adventure, a bit of suspense, and even a few tears. I recommend this book to all who enjoy historical romance, especially western fans.<\/p>\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":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,57,34,41,44],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13333","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-christmas","category-historical","category-romance","category-western"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13333"}],"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=13333"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13333\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13344,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13333\/revisions\/13344"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13333"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13333"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13333"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}