{"id":13574,"date":"2012-11-16T00:52:19","date_gmt":"2012-11-16T05:52:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=13574"},"modified":"2012-11-16T00:52:19","modified_gmt":"2012-11-16T05:52:19","slug":"sofias-secret-by-sharlene-maclaren","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=13574","title":{"rendered":"Sofia’s Secret by Sharlene MacLaren"},"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

Sharlene MacLaren<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

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

 <\/p>\n

Sofia\u2019s Secret, River of Hope Series Book 3<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n
Whitaker House (October 1, 2012)<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
***Special thanks to Cathy Hickling<\/span> for sending me a review copy.***<\/div>\n

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

Born and raised in western Michigan, Sharlene MacLaren attended Spring Arbor University. After graduating, she traveled, then married one of her childhood friends, and together they raised two ldaughters. Now happily retired after teaching elementary school for over 30 years, \u201cShar\u201d enjoys reading, singing in the church choir, traveling, and spending time with her husband, children, and grandchildren\u2014and, of course, writing. Her novels include Through Every Storm, Long Journey Home; the Little Hickman Creek series, the acclaimed historical trilogy, The Daughters of Jacob Kane, and the first two books in her latest series, River of Hope: Livvie\u2019s Song and Ellie\u2019s Haven.
\nVisit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

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

\"\"<\/a> The River of Hope Series, set in the 1920\u2019s, continues with the story of Sofia Rogers who is pregnant, unmarried, and guarding a secret. Nobody in Wabash, Indiana seems to know her real story and Sofia isn\u2019t about to share it. She\u2019d rather bear the shame than face the threat of consequences. When Eli Trent, the new doctor in town, gets involved, trouble escalates in the form of thievery, arson, and death threats. Nevertheless, Eli remains determined to break down the wall of silence behind which Sofia hides her secret. He is out to convince her she is not alone and to help her come to the realization that trusting him\u2014and God\u2014is the only thing that makes sense.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $10.99
\nPaperback: 432 pages
\nPublisher: Whitaker House (October 1, 2012)
\nLanguage: English
\nISBN-10: 160374214X
\nISBN-13: 978-1603742146<\/p>\n

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

\n
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u2014Psalm 51:17<\/span><\/div>\n
June 1930<\/span><\/div>\n
Wabash, Indiana<\/span><\/div>\n
The blazing sun ducked behind a cloud, granting a smidgeon of relief to Sofia Rogers as she compressed the pedal to stop her bike in front of Murphy\u2019s Market and, in a most inelegant manner, slid off the seat, taking care not to catch the hem of her loose-fitting dress in the bicycle chain. She scanned the street in both directions, hoping not to run into anyone she knew, then parked the rusting yellow bike next to a Ford truck. These days, she dreaded coming into town, but she couldn\u2019t very well put off the chore much longer if she wanted to keep food on the table.<\/span><\/div>\n
Her younger brother, Andy, had won the race to their destination. His equally corroded bike leaned against the building, and he stood next to it, his arms crossed, a burlap sack slung across one shoulder. As she approached, a smug grin etched his freckled face. \u201cDidn\u2019t I t-tell you I\u2019d b-beat you?\u201d <\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s because you had a full minute head start on me, you rascal.\u201d Sofie might have added that her present condition did not permit the speed and agility she\u2019d once had, but she wasn\u2019t about to make that excuse. \u201cJust you wait. I\u2019ll win on the way back home.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cN-not if I can help it.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
She pressed the back of her hand to her hot, damp face and stepped up to the sidewalk. \u201cWe\u2019ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Andy pointed at her and laughed. \u201cNow your face is all d-dirty.\u201d <\/span><\/div>\n
She looked at her hands, still soiled from working in the garden that morning, and frowned. \u201cI guess I should have lathered them a little better when I washed up.\u201d She bent over and used the hem of her skirt to wipe her cheek before straightening. \u201cThere. Is that better?\u201d <\/span><\/div>\n
He tilted his face and angled her a crooked grin. \u201cSort of.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cOh, who cares?\u201d She tousled his rust-colored hair. \u201cCome on, let\u2019s get started checking those items off my shopping list.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
They headed for the door, but a screeching horn drew their attention to the street, where a battered jalopy slowed at the curb. Several teenage boys, their heads poking out through the windows, whistled and hollered. \u201cHey, sister! Hear you like to have a good time!\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
At their crudeness, Sofie felt a suffocating pressure in her chest. With a hand on her brother\u2019s shoulder, she watched the car round the bend, as the boys\u2019 whoops faded into the distance.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cWho were those guys?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cNobody important.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
As if the baby inside her fully agreed, she got a strong push to the rib cage that jarred her and made her stumble.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cYou alright?\u201d Andy grabbed her elbow, looking mature beyond his eleven years.<\/span><\/div>\n
She paused to take a deep breath and then let it out slowly, touching a hand to her abdomen. Even in her seventh month, she could scarcely fathom carrying a tiny human in her womb, let alone accept all of the kicks and punches he or she had started doling out on a daily basis. She\u2019d read several books to know what to expect as she progressed, but none of them had come close to explaining why she already felt so deeply in love with the tiny life inside of her. Considering that she hadn\u2019t consented to the act committed against her, she should have resented the little life, but how could she hold an innocent baby accountable? \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d she finally assured her brother. \u201cLet\u2019s go inside, shall we?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Inside Murphy\u2019s Market, a few people ambled up and down the two narrow aisles, toting cloth bags or shopping baskets. Sofie kept her left hand out of view as much as possible, in hopes of avoiding the condemnation of anyone who noticed the absence of a wedding band on her left ring finger. Not that she particularly cared what other folks thought, but she\u2019d grown weary of the condescending stares. Several women had tried to talk her into giving the infant up for adoption, including Margie Grant, an old friend who had served as a mother figure to her and Andy ever since their parents had perished in a train wreck in 1924. \u201cThe little one growing inside you is the result of an insidious attack, darling. I shouldn\u2019t think you\u2019d want much to do with it once it\u2019s born,\u201d Margie had said. \u201cI happen to know more than a few childless couples right here in Wabash who would be thrilled to take it off your hands. You should really consider adoption.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Because Margie had long been a loyal friend, Sofie had confided in her about the assault, including when and where it had occurred. As for going to the authorities and demanding an investigation\u2014never! Margie had begged her to go straight to Sheriff Morris, but she had refused, and then had made Margie swear on the Bible not to go herself.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cThat is a hard promise to make, dearest,\u201d Margie had conceded with wrinkled brow, \u201cbut I will promise to keep my lips buttoned. As for adoption, if you gave the baby to a nice couple in town, you would have the opportunity to watch it grow up. That would bring you comfort, I should think, especially if you selected a well-deserving Christian couple.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t imagine giving my baby away to someone in my hometown, Christian or not.\u201d <\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cWell then, we\u2019ll go to one of the neighboring towns,\u201d the woman had persisted. \u201cThink about it, sweetheart. You don\u2019t have the means to raise a child. Why, you and Andy are barely making ends meet as it is. Who\u2019s going to take care of it while you\u2019re at work?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t think about that right now, Margie. And, please, don\u2019t refer to my child as an \u2018it.\u2019\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
The woman\u2019s face had softened then, and she\u2019d enfolded Sofie in her arms. \u201cWell, of course, I know your baby\u2019s not an \u2018it,\u2019 honey. But, until he or she is born, I have no notion what to call it\u2014I mean, him or her.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201c\u2018The baby\u2019 will do fine.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Margie had given her a little squeeze, then dropped her hands to her sides and shot her a pleading gaze. \u201cI sure wish you\u2019d tell me who did this to you. It\u2019s a crime, you know, what he did.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Yes, it had been a crime\u2014the most reprehensible sort. And it was both a blessing and a curse that Sofie couldn\u2019t remember the details. The last thing she could remember was drinking her habitual cup of coffee at Spic-and-Span Cleaning Service before starting her evening rounds. She\u2019d thought it tasted unusually bitter, but she\u2019d shrugged it off at the time. Half an hour later\u2014at the site of her job that night, at the law offices of Baker & Baker\u2014she\u2019d been overcome by dizziness and collapsed. She\u2019d teetered in and out of consciousness, with only a vague notion of what was going on. When she\u2019d awakened, it had been daylight, and she was sore all over. Fortunately, it had been a Saturday, and the offices were closed; no one had discovered her lying there, nauseous and trembling, her dress torn, her hair disheveled. A particular ache had given her a clue as to what had gone on while she\u2019d been unconscious. As the sickening reality had set in, she\u2019d found beside her the note that had haunted her ever since.<\/span><\/div>\n
Breathe one word about this and you can say bye-bye to your brother.<\/span><\/div>\n
It had been typed on the official letterhead of the sheriff\u2019s office, making her even less inclined to go to the authorities. Whoever had assaulted her had connections to the law, and she wasn\u2019t about to risk her brother\u2019s life to find out his identity. Plus, without a name, and with no visual or auditory recollection, she had nothing to offer that would aid an investigation.<\/span><\/div>\n
By the time she realized she\u2019d gotten pregnant, two months had passed\u2014too late to go crying to the authorities. Not that she\u2019d planned to. Her attacker\u2019s threat had been enough to keep her quiet. She could bear the scorn and the shame, as long as he left her alone. And the only way of ensuring that was to comply with his demands. No, she couldn\u2019t say anything more about it to Margie.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cMargie, we\u2019ve been over this. It\u2019s better left unsaid, believe me.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cBut, don\u2019t you know people are going to talk? Who knows what they\u2019ll think or say when you start to show? If they learned the truth, perhaps they\u2019d go a little easier on you.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cNo! I can\u2019t. No one must know\u2014not even you. I\u2019m sorry, Margie.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Margie had rubbed the back of her neck as if trying to work out a kink. A loud breath had blown past her lips and whistled across Sofie\u2019s cheek. \u201cYou know I love you, and so I will honor your wishes\u2026for now.\u201d Then, her index finger had shot up in the air, nearly poking Sofie in the nose. \u201cBut if he so much as comes within an inch of you again, I want you to tell me right away, you hear? I can\u2019t abide thinking that he\u2019ll come knocking at your door. You must promise me, Sofia Mae Rogers!\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Sofie had hidden the shiver that had rustled through her veins at the mere thought of crossing paths with her attacker again. Why, every time she went to work, she couldn\u2019t get the awful pounding in her chest to slow its pace until she was home again. She\u2019d stopped drinking and eating at work\u2014anywhere other than at home, really.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cShow me your list, Sofie.\u201d Andy\u2019s voice drew her out of her fretful thoughts. She reached inside her pocket and handed over the paper. When he set off down an aisle, she idly followed after, her mind drifting back into its musings.<\/span><\/div>\n
***<\/span><\/div>\n
Dr. Elijah Trent parked his grandfather\u2019s 1928 Ford Model A in the lot beside Murphy\u2019s Market. As he climbed out, he was careful not to allow his door to collide with a bicycle standing nearby. Another battered bike leaned against the building. It looked as if it could use some serious repair work. He closed his door and took a deep breath of hot June air, then cast a glance overhead at the row of birds roosting on a clothesline that stretched between two apartment buildings across the street.<\/span><\/div>\n
When he pulled open the whiny screen door, an array of aromas teased his nostrils, from freshly ground coffee beans to roasted peanuts in a barrel. As he stepped inside, a floorboard shrieked beneath his feet, as if to substantiate its long-term use.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cAfternoon,\u201d said the shopkeeper, who glanced up from the cash register, where he stood, ringing up an order for a young pregnant woman. Beside her, a boy dutifully stuffed each item into a cloth bag. The young woman raised her head and glanced briefly at Eli, who sensed a certain tenseness in her chestnut-colored eyes. Then, she shifted her gaze back to the clerk.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cSay, ain\u2019t you Doc Trent\u2019s grandson?\u201d the man asked.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cThat I am, sir. Elijah Trent. But most people call me Eli.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
The clerk stopped ringing items for a moment and gave him an up-and-down glance. \u201cHeard you\u2019re takin\u2019 over the old fellow\u2019s practice. That\u2019s mighty fine o\u2019 you. I understand you graduated with honors from the University of Michigan, an\u2019 you worked at a Detroit hospital for two years, but you were itchin\u2019 for small-town livin\u2019. Timing\u2019s good, since Doc\u2019s retirin\u2019. S\u2019pose you two been plannin\u2019 this for quite a while now, eh? Hate to see Wilson Trent retire, but most folks seem to think it\u2019ll be good to get in some new blood. Get it? Blood?\u201d He gave a hearty chortle, causing his rotund chest to jiggle up and down.<\/span><\/div>\n
Eli smiled at the friendly man. \u201cIt sounds like Grandfather\u2019s been keeping everyone well-informed.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cHe sure has. Plus, the Plain Dealer<\/span> wrote up that article \u2019bout you.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cYes, I heard that.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
The woman shifted her narrow frame and fingered one of her short, brown curls, but she kept her eyes focused on the counter. Beside her, the freckle-faced youngster poked his head around the back of her and met Elijah\u2019s gaze. They stared at each other for all of three seconds, but when Eli smiled, the boy quickly looked forward again.<\/span><\/div>\n
As the clerk resumed ringing up their order, Eli reached inside his hip pocket and grabbed the short list his grandfather had scrawled in his somewhat shaky handwriting. In Detroit, he\u2019d taken most of his meals at the hospital. Helping his grandfather in the kitchen would be an entirely new experience. At least it would be only temporary, until Grandfather\u2019s housekeeper of twenty-odd years, Winifred Carmichael, returned from her two-week vacation out West.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cYou lookin\u2019 for anythin\u2019 in particular?\u201d the clerk asked.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cNothing I can\u2019t find on my own, sir.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cPick up one o\u2019 them baskets by the door for stashin\u2019 what you need. Name\u2019s Harold, by the way. Harold Murphy. I\u2019ve owned this place goin\u2019 on thirty years now.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Eli bent to pick up a basket. He hadn\u2019t thought to bring along a sack in which to carry the items home. The store he had occasioned in Detroit had offered brown paper bags, but the trend didn\u2019t seem to have caught on in Wabash just yet. \u201cYes, I recall coming here with my grandmother as a kid.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cAnd I remember you, as well, with that sandy hair o\u2019 yours and that there dimple in your chin.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cIs that so? You have a good memory, Mr. Murphy.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
A pleased expression settled on the clerk\u2019s face. \u201cYou used to ogle my candy jars and tug at your grandmother\u2019s arm. \u2019Course, she\u2019d always give in. She couldn\u2019t resist your pleadin\u2019. Seems to me you always managed to wrangle some chewin\u2019 gum out o\u2019 her before I finished ringin\u2019 her order.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s amazing you remember that.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cWell, some things just stick in my memory for no particular reason.\u201d He glanced across the counter at the freckle-faced boy. \u201cYoung Andy, here, he\u2019s the Hershey\u2019s chocolate bar type. Ain\u2019t that right, Andy?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
The lad\u2019s head jerked up, and he looked from Mr. Murphy to the woman beside him. \u201cYes, sir. C-c-can I g-get one today, Sofie?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Her slender shoulders lifted and drooped with a labored sigh. \u201cI suppose, but don\u2019t expect any other treats today.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cI won\u2019t.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
The brief t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate allowed Eli the chance to disappear down an aisle in search of the first item on his list: sugar. He found it about the same time the screen door whined open once more, with the exit of the young woman and the boy. Next, Eli spotted the bread at the end of the aisle. He picked up a loaf and nestled it in the basket, next to the box of sugar.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cWell, I think it\u2019s plain disgraceful, her coming into town and flaunting herself like that. My stars, has she not an ounce of decency? And what, pray tell, is she teaching that brother of hers by not keeping herself concealed?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cI must agree, it\u2019s quite appalling,\u201d said another.<\/span><\/div>\n
Eli\u2019s ears perked up at the sound of female scoffs coming from the other side of the shelving unit at the back of the store. He stilled, slanted his head, and leaned forward. If he could push a few cans and boxed goods to the side without creating a commotion, he might manage a partial view of the gossips.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cI always did wonder about her and that pitiable little brother of hers, living all alone on the far edge of town. No telling what sort of man put her in a motherly way. Why, if I were in her place, I\u2019d have gone off to stay with some relative in another state. One would think she\u2019d have somewhere she could go. She could have birthed the child, given it to some worthy family, and come back to Wabash, and no one would\u2019ve been the wiser.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
The other gossip cleared her throat. \u201cPerchance her \u2018lover\u2019 won\u2019t hear of her leaving, and she doesn\u2019t dare defy him. She always did come off as rather defenseless, wouldn\u2019t you say?\u201d <\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cYes, yes, and very reclusive. Never was one to join any charity groups or ladies\u2019 circles. Why, she doesn\u2019t even attend church, to my knowledge. As I said before, the whole thing is disgraceful.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Eli shuffled around the corner and stopped at the end of the next row, where he picked up a couple of cans of beans, even though they weren\u2019t on Grandfather\u2019s list, and dropped them into his basket with a clatter. The chattering twosome immediately fell silent. Eli cast a casual glance in their direction, and he almost laughed at their poses of feigned nonchalance. One was studying the label on a box, while the other merely stared at a lower shelf, her index finger pressed to her chin.<\/span><\/div>\n
When Eli started down the aisle, both of them looked up, so he nodded. \u201cAfternoon, ladies.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
The more buxom of the two batted her eyelashes and plumped her graying hair, then nearly blinded him with a fulsome smile. \u201cWell, good afternoon to you.\u201d She put a hand to her throat. \u201cMy goodness. You\u2019re Doc Trent\u2019s grandson?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cWell, I\u2019ll be. I overheard you talking with Harold, but I didn\u2019t lay eyes on you until now.\u201d She perused him up and down. \u201cYou sure are a handsome devil.\u201d <\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cOh, for mercy\u2019s sake, Bessie, mind your manners.\u201d The second woman bore a blush of embarrassment. \u201cDon\u2019t pay her any heed, Doctor. She\u2019s such a tease.\u201d She extended a hand. \u201cI\u2019m Clara Morris, the sheriff\u2019s wife, and this is Bessie Lloyd. Her husband owns Lloyd\u2019s Shoe Store, over on Market Street. Welcome to Wabash, Dr. Trent. We read about your impending arrival in the newspaper. I hope you find yourself feeling right at home here.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sure I will.\u201d Eli shifted his shopping basket and extended a hand first to Mrs. Morris, then to the annoying Mrs. Lloyd. He would have liked to remind them that two upstanding women in the community ought to put a lock on their lips, lest they tarnish their own reputations, but he hadn\u2019t come to Wabash with the intention of making instant enemies, so he restrained himself. \u201cNice meeting you ladies. You have a good day, now.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
He glanced to his left and, seeing a shelf with maple syrup, snatched a can and tossed it into his basket. Casting the women one last smile, he headed down the aisle in search of the remaining items.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cMy, my,\u201d he heard Mrs. Lloyd mutter. \u201cI think it may be time for me to switch physicians.\u201d <\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cBut you\u2019ve been seeing Dr. Stewart for years,\u201d Mrs. Morris said. \u201cWhat about your bad knee?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cPfff, never mind that. I\u2019d much rather look into that young man\u2019s blue eyes and handsome face than Dr. Stewart\u2019s haggard mug. Why, if I were younger\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Eli picked up his pace and made it out of earshot before she finished her statement.<\/span><\/div>\n
Several minutes later, he\u2019d rounded up everything on his list, so he made his way to the cash register. As he did, the voices of the two gabby women carried across the store. Evidently, they\u2019d found a new topic of conversation. \u201cI went to McNarney Brothers yesterday,\u201d Mrs. Lloyd was saying, \u201cand would you believe they raised the price of beef by five cents a pound? Don\u2019t they know times are tight? Before you know it, folks won\u2019t be able to afford to eat.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cShe could afford to go a few days without eatin\u2019,\u201d Harold Murphy muttered. His eyes never strayed from his task, as he keyed in the amount of each item before placing it back in the basket.<\/span><\/div>\n
Eli covered his mouth with the back of his hand until his grin faded. He decided it was best to keep quiet on the matter. Something else bothered him, though, and he couldn\u2019t resist inquiring. He leaned in, taking care to keep his voice down. \u201cThat girl\u2026er, that woman, who left a bit ago, who is expecting\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cAh, Sofia Rogers? She was here with her little brother, Andy.\u201d Mr. Murphy rang up the final item, the loaf of bread, and placed it gently atop the other goods. Then, he scratched the back of his head as his thin lips formed a frown. \u201cIt\u2019s a shame, them two\u2026well, them three, I guess you could say.\u201d He glanced both ways, then lowered his head and whispered, \u201cDon\u2019t know who got her in that way, and I don\u2019t rightly care. When she comes here, I just talk to her like nothin\u2019s different. Figure it ain\u2019t really my concern. I know there\u2019s been talk about her bein\u2019 loose, an\u2019 all, but I can\u2019t accept it. Never seen her with anybody but that little boy. She takes mighty fine care o\u2019 him, too.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s his guardian, then?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cSure enough, ever since\u2026oh, let\u2019s see here\u2026summer of twenty-four, it was. They lost their ma and pa in a terrible train wreck. They\u2019d left Andy home with Sofie for a few days, whilst they went to a family funeral somewhere out West, little knowing their own funeral would be three days later.\u201d The man shook his balding head.<\/span><\/div>\n
The news got Eli\u2019s gut to roiling. Even after all those years of medical school, which should have calloused him to pain and suffering, his heartstrings were wound as taut as ever. He needed to learn to toughen up. Needed to accept that, thanks to Adam and Eve\u2019s fateful decision in the garden, bad things happened to innocent people; that he lived in an imperfect world in which evil often won.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cWhere do they live, if you don\u2019t mind my asking?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cSomewheres out on the southwest edge o\u2019 town. River Road, I believe, just off o\u2019 Mill Creek Pike.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Eli didn\u2019t know Wabash well, but his grandfather certainly did, having driven virtually every street within the town limits to make house calls. But what was he thinking? He ought to bop himself on the noggin. He knew next to nothing about this woman, and the last thing he needed upon taking over Wilson Trent\u2019s medical practice was a reputation for sticking his nose where it didn\u2019t belong.<\/span><\/div>\n
Eli paid the shopkeeper and took up the basket. He had a good feeling about Harold Murphy. \u201cNice to see you again, sir. I\u2019ll bring this basket back next time I come in\u2026or shall I return it to you tonight?\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
Harold flicked his wrist. \u201cNaw, you bring it back whenever it\u2019s convenient. You give ol\u2019 Doc a hearty hello from me.\u201d<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll do that.\u201d Eli turned and proceeded to the door, shoving it open with his shoulder. The first thing he noticed when he stepped outside was the absence of the two bikes, and it occurred to him then that Sofia and Andy Rogers had ridden to and from Murphy\u2019s Market on those rickety contraptions. A woman in what looked to be her seventh month of pregnancy, riding a bike clear to the edge of town? In a dress? And in this heat?<\/span><\/div>\n
This time, he did bop himself on the head.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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

Sophia’s Secret<\/a> is a heart-wrenching story about the victim of rape who not only finds herself pregnant as a result but also is the recipient of constant threats from the man who violated her innocence. Already struggling to raise her younger brother after the tragic death of their parents, Sophia must also deal with the scorn of many of the locals who assume the worse about her morals. When the town doctor’s grandson Elijah arrives to take over the practice, his increasing involvement in the lives of Sophia and Andy leaves her with mixed emotions as she attempts to understand why.<\/p>\n

Well-defined characters, most of whom I grew to love and a well-paced plot with escalating suspense and a sweet romance made reading\u00a0Sophia’s Secret<\/a> a true joy. Although this book is part of a series, it stands on its own very well. I have not read the previous installment and had no problem following the story. I do intend to obtain the previous books in this series because if they are half as good as Sophia’s Secret<\/a>, I do not want to miss reading them. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and recommend it to all.<\/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":[134,8,34,41],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13574","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-1920s","category-books","category-historical","category-romance"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13574","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=13574"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13574\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13584,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13574\/revisions\/13584"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13574"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13574"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13574"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}