{"id":3078,"date":"2009-10-21T21:58:29","date_gmt":"2009-10-22T02:58:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=3078"},"modified":"2009-10-21T21:58:29","modified_gmt":"2009-10-22T02:58:29","slug":"emmy%e2%80%99s-equal-by-marcia-gruver","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=3078","title":{"rendered":"Emmy\u2019s Equal by Marcia Gruver"},"content":{"rendered":"

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

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n
Marcia Gruver <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

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

Emmy\u2019s Equal <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Barbour Books (October 9, 2009)<\/p>\n

***Special thanks to Angie Brillhart of Barbour Publishing for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n

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

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Marcia Gruver lives with her husband in Huffman, Texas, and has published various articles, poems, and devotionals. Her novel, Love Never Fails <\/em>(renamed Chasing Charity<\/em>), won third place in the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) Genesis Contest. Marcia is a member of ACFW, Fellowship of Christian Writers (FCW), and The Writers View.<\/p>\n

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

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $10.97
\nPaperback: 320 pages
\nPublisher: Barbour Books (October 9, 2009)
\nLanguage: English
\nISBN-10: 1602602077
\nISBN-13: 978-1602602076<\/p>\n

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

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Humble, Texas, August, 1906<\/p>\n

The stagnant well appeared bottomless, as dank and murky as a grave. Emmy rested her arms on the cold, jagged stones and leaned to peer into the abyss. Mama\u2019s embroidered lace hankie, shimmering in the meager light, hung from an outcropping of rock about four feet down. Narrowing her eyes, she peered at the spot of white that stood out from the surrounding darkness and heaved a sigh, stirring the fetid air below and raising a noxious odor that took her breath.<\/p>\n

She pushed up her sleeves and blasted a droopy blonde ringlet from her eyes with a frustrated puff of air. There was no help for it\u2014at the risk of certain death, she had to retrieve that handkerchief.<\/p>\n

A figure loomed, drawing alongside her with a grunt.<\/p>\n

She jumped, and her heart shot past her throat. Chest pounding, she wasted a glare on the dark profile, noticing for the first time a scatter of lines around his eyes and tiny gray curlicues in his sideburns.<\/p>\n

\u201cNash! I nearly leapt over the side.\u201d She swatted his arm. \u201cI\u2019ve asked you to stop sneaking up on me. I\u2019ve a good mind to fit you with a cowbell.\u201d<\/p>\n

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, as deep as the chasm. \u201cI didn\u2019t go to scare you, Miss Emmy.\u201d He bent his lanky body so far she feared he\u2019d tumble headfirst into the never-ending shaft. \u201cSay, what we looking for inside this hole?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re not looking for anything. I\u2019ve already found it.\u201d Emmy clutched his shirtsleeve and pulled him away. \u201cGo fetch me a lantern, and be quick about it.\u201d She tucked her chin in the direction of the palomino pony languishing under a nearby oak, nibbling at the circle of high grass around the trunk. \u201cTake Trouble. He\u2019ll be quicker than walking.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash frowned and rubbed the knuckles of one hand along his temple, as if an ache had sprung up there. \u201cWhat you need a lantern for, with the sun up and shining the past five hours? There\u2019s plenty of light to see.\u201d<\/p>\n

She braced herself and pointed. \u201cNot down there.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash\u2019s sleepy eyes flew open. His startled gaze bounced along her finger to the circular wall of weathered stones. \u201cDown there?\u201d He took a cautious step back. \u201cWhat\u2019s in this sour old pit that might concern you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy swallowed hard. She could trust Nash with anything but dreaded his reaction all the same. \u201cIt\u2019s. . .one of mama\u2019s hankies.\u201d She squeezed her eyes shut and ducked her head.<\/p>\n

His shoulders eased, and he ambled over to gaze inside. \u201cIs that all?\u201d<\/p>\n

If only it were. Emmy risked a peek at him. \u201cYou don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

He winced as if she\u2019d spoken a bad omen. \u201cUh, uh. Not from her good batch? Them she\u2019s always cackling about?\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy cringed and nodded.<\/p>\n

The delicate, lacy linens held an uncommon depth of meaning for Emmy\u2019s mama. Hand embroidered in Germany by her grandmother then brought to the Americas and placed in Mama\u2019s hope chest, they represented heart, hearth, and homeland to Magdalena Dane. In equal measure, they represented distress, discontent, and discord to her only daughter, because the bothersome bits of cloth seemed determined to cause Emmy grief.<\/p>\n

Nash\u2019s stunned expression hardened into an accusing glare. \u201cWhy, Miss Emmy? Why you done brought about such misery? You ain\u2019t s\u2019posed to touch \u2019em, and you know it.\u201d His graying brows fluttered up and down, like two moths bent on escape. \u201cThere\u2019s scarce few left, and your mama blames you for them what\u2019s missing.\u201d<\/p>\n

She moaned and flapped her hands. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to take the silly thing. It was warm when I rode out this morning. I knew I\u2019d likely sweat, so I snagged a hankie from the clothesline. I never looked at it until a few minutes ago. That\u2019s how this terrible mishap came about. I held it up as I rode, staring in disbelief. Trouble was galloping across the yard when the wind caught it and. . .\u201d She motioned behind her. \u201cThe willful rag drifted down the well before I could stop the horse and chase after it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy lowered her eyes then peered up at him through her lashes. \u201cNone of this is my fault, Nash. Papa should\u2019ve covered this smelly cistern months ago, and those wretched handkerchiefs have a mind of their own.\u201d<\/p>\n

The hint of a smile played around Nash\u2019s lips. \u201cIf so, they harbor a mighty poor opinion of you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She wrinkled her nose at him.<\/p>\n

Wagging his head, he rested the back of his hand on his side. \u201cIn all my years of working for your family, of all the fits I\u2019ve seen your mama pitch, the worst have been over the loss of them fancy scraps of cloth.\u201d He shuddered. \u201cMiss Emmy, I\u2019d be mighty grateful if you\u2019d wait and break the news to her after I leave for the day. She gon\u2019 be powerful upset.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy held up and wiggled a finger. \u201cOn the contrary. I won\u2019t be upsetting Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow you figure that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause there\u2019s no need to tell her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash propped his elbow in one hand and rubbed his chin with the other. \u201cMissy, I thought you was done telling lies and scheming. Don\u2019t forget you\u2019re a saint of God now.\u201d<\/p>\n

A saint of God. Yes, she was, through no fault of her own. Like Elijah\u2019s fiery chariot, God had swirled into Emmy\u2019s life in a weak moment and delivered her from herself. Not that she minded His day-to-day presence. In fact, she rather enjoyed the peace He brought. It was during times of temptation when she found the constant stirring in her heart to do the right thing a bit of a bother. Yet no wonder, really. In the past, she\u2019d had precious little practice in doing the right thing.<\/p>\n

She blinked up at Nash. \u201cI have no plans to lie, and I won\u2019t need to scheme. We\u2019re simply going to return great-grandmother\u2019s hankie to Mama\u2019s clothesline, washed, rinsed, and fresh as a newborn calf.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash stared then shook his head. \u201cNo ma\u2019am. You jus\u2019 forget about what we gon\u2019 do. Question is how are you gon\u2019 pull it off?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll show you.\u201d She shooed him with her hands. \u201cRun fetch that lantern like I asked and leave the rest to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Still shaking his head, Nash mounted Trouble and laid in his heels. The horse bolted the short distance across the yard to the well-kept shed tucked behind Emmy\u2019s two-story house. With a furtive glance toward the porch, Nash eased the door open and slipped inside.<\/p>\n

While she waited, Emmy watched a rowdy band of crows swarm Nash\u2019s cornfield. The black bandits bickered and pecked for position before settling in for a meal, oblivious to the mop-headed stick Nash had dressed in a ragged shirt and floppy hat and then shoved in the ground. She dared not call his attention to the culprits or he\u2019d bluster after them, shouting and waving his arms like a demented windmill, leaving her to cope alone with her pressing dilemma.<\/p>\n

She jerked her gaze from the birds when Nash rode up and slid off Trouble to the ground, a lighted lantern in his hand.<\/p>\n

Handing over the light with a flourish, he lowered one brow and pinned her with a squinty look. \u201cHere\u2019s what you asked for. Jus\u2019 be sure to leave me plumb out of the story when you go explaining yourself to your mama.\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned to go, but Emmy caught hold of his shirttail. \u201cNot so fast. I\u2019m not done with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash covered his ears and reeled away. \u201cDon\u2019t tell me no mo\u2019. I ain\u2019t seen nothing, and I ain\u2019t heard nothing. If anybody needs me, I\u2019ll be feeding the chickens.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy aimed a haughty laugh at his back. \u201cIt\u2019s too late for that. You\u2019re in up to your hat, and it\u2019s no less punishment than you deserve for sneaking about all the time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash dug in his heels and stood facing the grove of loblolly pine at the edge of the yard, his body stiff as a post.<\/p>\n

Repentant, she softened her voice to a plea. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Nash. I had no call to utter such a thing. It\u2019s just. . .I can\u2019t do this without you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Arms dangling at his sides, he tipped his head toward the sky and whispered something, a prayer no doubt, before turning to face her. \u201cWhat you want me to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

She peppered him with grateful kisses then grabbed his hand. \u201cCome over here.\u201d Hauling him to the gaping cavity, she lowered the lamp. \u201cSee? There it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

They gazed at the only bright spot in the oppressive gloom, their ability to see inside the shaft made no better by the frail circle of yellow light.<\/p>\n

Nash shrugged and drew back from the side. \u201cToo far down. May as well wave it goodbye then go fess up to what you done.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy gripped his arm. \u201cNonsense. We can get it out of there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow, short of fishing it out with a cane pole? And I got no hooks.\u201d He scratched his head. \u201cI reckon I could take my hammer and pound a bend in a nail.\u201d<\/p>\n

She shook her head. \u201cToo risky. If the hankie slips off it\u2019ll settle to the bottom, and that\u2019ll be the end of it.\u201d She drew a determined breath. \u201cI have a better idea.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash\u2019s eyebrows rose on his forehead, reaching new heights, even for him. \u201cWhat sort of idea? Harebrained or foolhardy? Them\u2019s the only two kinds you have.\u201d<\/p>\n

She swallowed hard and fingered the wooden bucket sitting on the wall. \u201cI\u2019m going to straddle this, and you\u2019ll lower me down to fetch it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The shaggy brows bested their last mark. \u201cYou cain\u2019t mean it, Miss Emmy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen your idea is both harebrained and foolhardy. You must be plain tetched up under them pretty white locks. S\u2019pose that rope snaps in two?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, pooh.\u201d She patted the heavy hemp coiled around the crank. \u201cThis rope is thick and sound.\u201d She pointed over her shoulder at the horse. \u201cYou could lower Trouble down that well.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded. \u201cYes\u2019m. That\u2019s exactly what I\u2019d be doing.\u201d He jerked off his weathered hat and dashed it against his leg. \u201cDon\u2019t ask me to put you in that kind of danger. No, missy. I won\u2019t do it. Not for nothing in this wide world.\u201d<\/p>\n

Touched, Emmy smiled at the man who\u2019d been like a father to her over the years, far more of a parent than her own papa, who didn\u2019t stay home often enough to have much practice at the role. She took Nash\u2019s hand and squeezed it. \u201cI won\u2019t be in any danger. As long as you\u2019re holding the handle, I know I\u2019ll be safe.\u201d She peered up into his sulky brown eyes. \u201cYou know if you don\u2019t help me I\u2019ll just find a way to do it myself. I have to get that hankie.\u201d<\/p>\n

He gaped at her. \u201cThe silly thing ain\u2019t worth dying for, is it? Your mama has fussed at you before, and you lived to tell the tale. Why is this time so all-fired special?\u201d<\/p>\n

She squared around to face him. \u201cI can\u2019t have her angry about anything just now. I\u2019m planning to ask permission to go to St. Louis when Mama travels with Aunt Bertha to South Texas. It\u2019ll be hard enough to convince her as it is. If she gets in a snit, my plan is doomed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy they going off so far?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s Aunt Bertha\u2019s idea. Now that she has money, she\u2019s determined to go into the cattle business. She\u2019s bent on learning all she can. Papa knows a very successful rancher down south who\u2019s willing to teach her everything he knows.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCain\u2019t you jus\u2019 stay home?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019ll be gone for a month or better. Mama refuses to leave me here alone for that long, and I\u2019d much prefer going to see Charity.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash smiled and nodded. \u201c \u2019Specially with her jus\u2019 done birthing the little one.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy beamed. \u201cExactly. I can help Charity bring him home.\u201d<\/p>\n

A thrill coursed through her at the thought of seeing Charity and Buddy\u2019s new baby boy. Emmy and Charity were as close as twin sisters, best friends like their mamas had always been. Emmy\u2019s mama and Aunt Bertha had grown up together in Jefferson before moving to Humble.<\/p>\n

Last year, a handsome young oilman came to town and found oil on Aunt Bertha\u2019s land. Charity wound up married to him and soon left for St. Louis to meet his parents. When Buddy found out she was expecting, he kept her in the city so she\u2019d be close to good medical care.<\/p>\n

Not a day had passed that Emmy didn\u2019t think of Charity and long to see her. She was coming home next month, bringing little Thad to meet the family.<\/p>\n

Nash narrowed his eyes. \u201cYou ain\u2019t jus\u2019 trying to sneak off to St. Louis to see that oilman friend of Mistah Buddy\u2019s, are you? Don\u2019t think I didn\u2019t see you making eyes at him the whole time that preacher was trying to marry off Miss Charity.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy whirled. \u201cWho? Mr. Ritter?\u201d She dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. \u201cJerry Ritter was just a passing fancy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash raised a cynical brow.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, pooh, Nash! You stop that!\u201d She fiddled the row of tiny buttons on her sleeve. \u201cBesides. . .Aunt Bertha claims Mr. Ritter was recently betrothed to a childhood sweetheart.\u201d She flicked off an insect from the cuff of her blouse and dashed away her humiliation with the same resolve. \u201cTherefore, my desire to be in St. Louis has nothing to do with him. I just need to see Charity. If I get into any more trouble, Mama\u2019s bound to haul me with them to that dreadful desert town instead. If she does, I\u2019ll just dry up along with it and perish. I mean it!\u201d<\/p>\n

Grinding the toe of his oversized boot in the dirt, Nash sighed and shifted his weight. \u201cI don\u2019t know, Miss Emmy. . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy stifled a grin. She had him. \u201cI\u2019ll be just fine. I promise. Now help me climb up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Still mumbling his objections, he offered an elbow to Emmy so she could pull up and sit on the uneven stones. Unfastening the buttoned flap on her split skirt, she swung her legs over and settled on the side, trying hard not to look past her boots. \u201cTurn your head while I sit astride the pail. It won\u2019t look so dainty in this outfit.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash gazed toward the field, obviously too distracted to notice the raiding crows.<\/p>\n

Still clinging to his arm, Emmy held her breath and pulled the dangling rope closer, guiding it between her legs. \u201cAll right, I\u2019m ready. Lean your weight into the handle. I\u2019m about to push off.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nash shifted his gaze to the sky. \u201cOh, sweet Jesus. Please protect this chil\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

Holding her breath, she scooted from the edge, squealing when her body spun and dipped about a foot. \u201cNash! Have you got it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got it. Stop squirming now. You heavier than you look.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emmy forced herself to still, more afraid than she\u2019d expected to be. She felt more than saw the yawning gulf, a great gaping mouth poised to swallow her whole. \u201cHand me the lantern and then you can lower me. But go slowly, for heaven\u2019s sake.\u201d<\/p>\n

She breathed a prayer as she spiraled past the opening and descended. Glancing up, she bit her lip and watched the rope unwind from the wobbly reel, outlined by a circle of light. Misguided but determined white roots that had pushed through cracks in the mortar groped at her, snagging her hem and sleeves. Crisscrossed nets of taught, silky threads offered whispers of resistance before giving way and sticking to the exposed parts of her legs. Emmy held the soft glow of the lamp closer to the side, shuddering when eight-legged bodies skittered in every direction. She gritted her teeth, suppressing a shriek and the urge to order Nash to haul her out of the wide-awake nightmare.<\/p>\n

You can do this. Just a little more and you\u2019ll be there. Three more turns and you\u2019ll have Mama\u2019s hankie in your hands. This will all be worth it then.<\/p>\n

Exhaling her relief, she drew even with the jutting rock that had caught the precious heirloom. Holding the lantern out of the way, she swayed her body until the motion brought her closer to the wall.<\/p>\n

She snatched at the white spot. Instead of soft linen, she felt thick, sticky padding. In place of the crush of a napkin gathered in her palm, there was the unmistakable writhing of something alive.<\/p><\/div>\n

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

The third installment of the Texas Fortunes<\/strong><\/em> series, <\/strong>Emmy\u2019s Equal<\/a> revisits the early days of\u00a0 Texas during the oil boom.\u00a0 Familiar characters from the earlier volumes heavily populate the most recent story, focusing primarily on Emily Dane. When forced to travel with her parents to south Texas, Emily meets two young men who are both attracted to her- the rancher’s son Cuthbert and the ranch foreman Diego. A fairly new Christian, Emmy is constantly tempted to return to her old ways. However, even when she tries, she finds herself unable to do the things she once did without thinking. As the book progresses, it is heartening to watch as Emmy, Diego, and Cuddy all mature and learn to trust in the Lord.<\/p>\n

Filled with humor, misunderstandings, adventure, and romance, Emmy\u2019s Equal<\/a> is a book that will leave the reader wanting more. The details about Choctaw, hispanic, and Texas culture added a depth to the story’s appeal.<\/p>\n

To learn more about Emmy’s adventures in the wild west of south Texas – and to find out which man wins her love – run to your nearest bookseller and pick up a copy for yourself.<\/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-3078","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\/3078"}],"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=3078"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3078\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3094,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3078\/revisions\/3094"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3078"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3078"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3078"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}