{"id":5713,"date":"2010-09-15T05:07:07","date_gmt":"2010-09-15T10:07:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=5713"},"modified":"2010-09-14T15:10:27","modified_gmt":"2010-09-14T20:10:27","slug":"heart-of-the-lonely-exile-by-b-j-hoff","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=5713","title":{"rendered":"Heart of the Lonely Exile by B. J. Hoff"},"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


<\/p>\n

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


<\/p>\n

B.J. Hoff<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\n

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

\n

Heart of the Lonely Exile (Book Two in The Emerald Ballad series)<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Harvest House Publishers (July 1, 2010)<\/p>\n

***Special thanks to Karri James of Harvest House Publishers for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n

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

\"\"<\/a>BJ Hoff\u2019s bestselling historical novels continue to cross the boundaries of religion, language, and culture to capture a worldwide reading audience. Her books include Song of Erin and American Anthem and such popular series as The Riverhaven Years, The Mountain Song Legacy, and The Emerald Ballad. Hoff\u2019s stories, although set in the past, are always relevant to the present. Whether her characters move about in small country towns or metropolitan areas, reside in Amish settlements or in coal company houses, she creates communities where people can form relationships, raise families, pursue their faith, and experience the mountains and valleys of life. BJ and her husband make their home in Ohio.<\/p>\n

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

\n<\/param><\/param><\/param><\/embed><\/object>\n<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $14.99<\/p>\n

Paperback: 384 pages <\/p>\n

Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (July 1, 2010) <\/p>\n

Language: English <\/p>\n

ISBN-10: 0736927891 <\/p>\n

ISBN-13: 978-0736927895<\/p>\n

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

<\/span><\/p>\n

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

\n

Friends Old and New<\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

Youth must with time decay\u2026 <\/p>\n

Beauty must fade away\u2026 <\/p>\n

Castles are sacked in war\u2026 <\/p>\n

Chieftains are scattered far\u2026 <\/p>\n

Truth is a fixed star\u2026.<\/p>\n

From \u201cAileen Aroon\u201d GERALD GRIFFIN (1803\u20131840)<\/p>\n

New York City <\/p>\n

August 1847<\/p>\n

It was a fine summer evening in the city, the kind of sweet, soft evening that made the young delight in their youth and the elderly content with their lot.<\/p>\n

On this evening Daniel Kavanagh and Tierney Burke were indulging in one of their favorite pastimes\u2014stuffing themselves with pastries from Krueger\u2019s bakery as they lounged against the glass front of the building. As usual, Tierney was buying. Daniel as yet had no job and no money. But Tierney, with a week\u2019s pay in his pocket from his job at the hotel and a month\u2019s wages due from his part-time job at Patrick Walsh\u2019s estate, declared he felt rotten with money and eager to enjoy it.<\/p>\n

It had been a good day, Daniel decided as he polished off his last sugar kucken. His mother was visiting, as she did every other Saturday, delivered as always by one of the Farmington carriages. Every Saturday without fail, a carriage either brought her to the Burkes\u2019, or came to collect Daniel for a visit at the Farmington mansion uptown, where his mother worked.<\/p>\n

In truth, Daniel thought he preferred the Saturdays he spent at the Farmingtons\u2019, for then he could visit with his friend, Evan Whittaker, and the Fitzgerald children, as well as his mother. He enjoyed his temporary living arrangement with Uncle Mike and Tierney, but often he found himself missing the daily contact with his mother and the Fitzgeralds\u2014especially Katie.<\/p>\n

The thought of Katie brought a smile to his face and a sting of worry to his mind. Katie was both his friend and his sweetheart; they would marry when they were of age\u2014that had been decided long ago.<\/p>\n

So committed to their future plans was he that Daniel paid little heed to Tierney\u2019s relentless teasing about his \u201classie.\u201d The fact was that Katie Fitzgerald had been his girl from the time they were wee wanes back in the village, and he did not mind who knew it. But Katie had ever been frail, and the famine and the long, horrific ship crossing had taken a fierce toll on her.<\/p>\n

Daniel could not help but fret about her health. He would have thought the good, plentiful food and proper medical attention she was receiving at the Farmingtons\u2019 would be enough to have her feeling fit by now. Instead, she scarcely seemed improved at all.<\/p>\n

Still, as his mother had reminded him just today, three months was not really so long a time\u2014not with all the troubles Katie had been through. \u201cYou must be patient, Daniel John,\u201d she had cautioned him. \u201cYou must be patient and faithful with your prayers.\u201d<\/p>\n

He was trying to be both, but it was hard, all the same, not to worry.<\/p>\n

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Daniel turned his attention to Pearl Street. Although darkness was gathering, most of the neighborhood seemed to be in no hurry to return to their cramped living quarters. The sultry August atmosphere carried the sounds of children playing, mothers scolding, dogs barking, and men arguing. Most of the voices were thick with Irish brogue, although German and an occasional stream of Italian could also be heard.<\/p>\n

Almost as thick as the cacophony of immigrant voices were the odors that mingled on the night air. The ever-present stench of piled-up garbage in the streets had grown worse with the recent warm temperatures; the fumes from sewage and animal droppings were more noxious than ever.<\/p>\n

Still, there was no spoiling the pleasure of such a fine evening. Besides, Daniel was growing accustomed to the aroma of New York. Indeed, the smell rarely bothered him at all these days; it was negligible compared to the stench of Ireland\u2019s rotten potato fields and the countless dead bodies lying alongside the country\u2019s roads.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, then,\u201d Tierney said, downing a nut kipfel in one bite before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, \u201cwill they tie the knot soon, do you think? Your mum and my da?\u201d<\/p>\n

It was a question Tierney seemed bent on asking at least once a week, a question that continued to make Daniel feel awkward\u2014almost as if his mother were somehow under an obligation to marry Uncle Mike. More and more Tierney\u2019s prodding put Daniel on guard, made him feel the need to defend his mother\u2014never mind that he secretly harbored the same question.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t suppose it\u2019s for either of us to guess,\u201d he muttered in reply. \u201cSure, and Mother does care a great deal for Uncle Mike.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tierney gave a curt, doubtful nod, turning the full intensity of his unnerving ice-blue stare on Daniel. \u201cIf that\u2019s so,\u201d he said, \u201cthen why is she still holding out?\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel bristled. \u201cIt\u2019s not that she\u2019s holding out,\u201d he protested. \u201cShe just needs more time, don\u2019t you see? They haven\u2019t seen each other for more than seventeen years, after all! She can hardly be expected to jump into marriage right away!\u201d<\/p>\n

Tierney regarded him with a speculative look, then shrugged. \u201cYou\u2019re right, of course,\u201d he said cheerfully, shoving his hands into his pockets. As if no friction whatever had occurred between them, he tilted a quick grin at Daniel. \u201cI expect I\u2019m just impatient because I\u2019m wanting to see them wed.\u201d<\/p>\n

Not for the first time, Daniel found himself disarmed by his quicksilver friend. The older boy had a way of making abrasive, outrageous remarks, then quickly backing off, as if sensing he had caused Daniel discomfort.<\/p>\n

Tierney had an incredible energy about him, a tension that sometimes made it seem that any instant he might leap from the ground and take off flying. He was impatient and blunt, decisive and headstrong. Yet he had an obvious streak of kindness, even gentleness, that could appear at the most unexpected moments.<\/p>\n

Living with him was akin to keeping company with a hurricane. Wild and impetuous one moment, eager and conciliatory the next, he was entirely unpredictable\u2014and a great deal more fun than any boy Daniel had ever known.<\/p>\n

He liked Tierney immensely. In truth, he wished his mother would marry Uncle Mike so they could be a real family.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf they do get married,\u201d Tierney was saying, watching Daniel with a teasing grin, \u201cyou and I will be brothers. How do you feel about that, Danny-boy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel rolled his eyes, but couldn\u2019t stop a smile of pleasure. \u201cSure, and won\u2019t I be the lucky lad, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tierney wiggled his dark brows. \u201cSure, and won\u2019t you at that?\u201d he shot back, perfectly mimicking Daniel\u2019s brogue.<\/p>\n

Avoiding Michael\u2019s eyes, Nora stared at the flickering candle in the middle of the kitchen table.<\/p>\n

The silence in the room, while not entirely strained, was awkward, to say the least. Nora had sensed Michael\u2019s impatience early in their visit. She thought she understood it; certainly, she could not fault the man for wanting more of a commitment than she\u2019d been able to grant him thus far.<\/p>\n

On the other hand, she didn\u2019t know how she could have handled things between them any differently. From the day of their reunion\u2014Nora\u2019s first day in New York City\u2014she had done her best to be entirely honest with Michael. She had told him then\u2014and on other occasions since\u2014that she cared for him deeply but could not marry him for a time, if ever.<\/p>\n

In the weeks and months that followed her arrival in New York, Nora\u2019s life had changed radically. All that she had once held dear, everything familiar, had been mercilessly torn away from her. She had lost her home and her entire family except for Daniel John. Yet much had been given to her as well.<\/p>\n

God had been good\u2014and faithful. Daniel John had a home with Michael and Tierney, and she and the orphaned Fitzgerald children were safe and snug in the Farmington mansion with Lewis Farmington and his daughter, Sara\u2014people who must be, Nora was certain, the kindest human beings God ever created.<\/p>\n

Aye, she had fine lodgings\u2014even a job\u2014and she had friends, good friends: Michael, Evan Whittaker, Sara and Lewis Farmington, and Ginger, the Farmingtons\u2019 delightful housekeeper. There was more food on her plate than she could eat, and a fire to warm her bones for the coming winter. Had any other penniless widow-woman ever been so blessed?<\/p>\n

Yet when it came to Michael, something deep within her warned her to wait, to go slowly. There were times when she wanted nothing more than to run to the shelter of the man\u2019s brawny arms and accept the security he seemed so set on offering\u2014the security of a friendship that dated back to their childhood, the security of marriage and a home of her own. But in the next instant she would find herself drawing back, shying away from the idea of Michael as the solution to her problems.<\/p>\n

She needed time, perhaps a great deal of time. Of that much, at least, she was certain. Time to heal, time to seek direction for her life. God\u2019s direction.<\/p>\n

And time to forget Morgan Fitzgerald\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Farmingtons seem more than pleased with your work for them,\u201d Michael said, breaking the silence and jarring Nora back to her surroundings. \u201cThey cannot say enough good things about you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Struggling to put aside her nagging melancholy, Nora smiled and made a weak dismissing motion with her hand. \u201cSure, they are only being kind,\u201d she said. \u201c?\u2019Tis little enough they allow me to do. I suppose they still think me ill, but in truth I\u2019m feeling much stronger.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can believe that,\u201d Michael said, studying her with open approval. \u201cYou\u2019re looking more fit each day. I think you might have even gained a bit at last.\u201d<\/p>\n

Surprised, Nora glanced down at her figure. She did feel stronger physically, stronger than she had for months. \u201cIndeed. Perhaps with all this fine American food, I\u2019ll grow as round as Pumpkin Emmie,\u201d she said, trying to ease the tension between them with reference to daft Emmie Fahey, one of the terrors of their youth.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve a ways to go, there,\u201d Michael said, meeting her smile. \u201cBut you are looking more yourself, lass, and that\u2019s the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Unnerved by the way he was scrutinizing her, Nora glanced away. \u201cOur sons are becoming good friends, it seems.\u201d<\/p>\n

Michael, too, seemed relieved to move to safer ground. \u201cAye, they are,\u201d he answered eagerly. \u201cAnd I couldn\u2019t be happier for it. Your Daniel is a fine boy\u2014a good influence on that rascal of mine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Michael,\u201d Nora protested, \u201cI think you\u2019re far too hard on Tierney! He doesn\u2019t seem nearly the rogue you paint him to be.\u201d<\/p>\n

With a sigh, Michael rose from the table to put the kettle on for more tea. \u201cI\u2019m the first to admit Tierney\u2019s not a bad boy. Nevertheless, he can be a handful. And unpredictable\u2014\u201d He shook his head as he started for the stove. \u201cWhy, I don\u2019t know what to expect from the lad one minute to the next, and that\u2019s the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not an easy age for him, Michael. Don\u2019t you remember how it was, being more grown-up than child, yet not quite either?\u201d<\/p>\n

Nora could have answered her own question. Michael had never seemed anything but a man grown, had never appeared to know the meaning of childishness or uncertainty, at least not in the time she had known him.<\/p>\n

Returning with the kettle, he offered Nora more tea. When she declined, he proceeded to pour himself a fresh cup. \u201cWhat I remember most about being a boy,\u201d he said with just the ghost of a smile, \u201cwas trying to keep you and our lad, Morgan, out of the soup.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nora glanced quickly away. \u201cAye, you were like a brother to the both of us,\u201d she said quietly.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wasn\u2019t a brother I wanted to be to you, Nora,\u201d he said pointedly, pausing with the kettle suspended above his cup. \u201cThat was your choice, not mine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMichael\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at her, setting the kettle down between them. \u201cIs it still Morgan, then?\u201d A muscle at the side of his mouth tightened. \u201cIs he the reason you cannot bring yourself to marry me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! No, Michael, it is not Morgan! I\u2019ve tried to explain all this before. I thought you understood\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

His gaze on her didn\u2019t waver. \u201cNora, I have tried. But I\u2019m not blind, lass. I see the way things are.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nora looked away, but she could still feel his eyes on her. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI mean that Morgan Fitzgerald still occupies a large space in your heart\u2014perhaps so great a space there will never be room for another.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMichael\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He waved away her protest, saying nothing. Instead, he went to stand at the window, his back to her. He stood there for a long time in silence. At last, he drew in a deep sigh and said quietly, \u201cWe\u2019d be good together, I think. We could build a fine life, a good home\u2014watch our boys grow to manhood.\u201d Stopping he turned to face her. \u201cPerhaps we could even have more children\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He let his words drift away, unfinished. As he stood there, his gaze fixed on her face, the frustration that had hardened his expression earlier faded, giving way to a rare tenderness. The grim lines about his mouth seemed to disappear, and his eyes took on a gentle smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe go back a long way, you and I,\u201d he said softly. \u201cAnd our boys\u2014why, they\u2019re well on their way to being brothers already. Ah, it could work for us, Nora! You must see that.\u201d Shoving his hands down deep into his pockets, he stood watching her. \u201cI know I cannot offer you much in the way of material things just yet, but we\u2019d have enough, enough for us all. And things will improve, I can promise you that. I have prospects on the force\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Michael, you know none of that matters to me!\u201d<\/p>\n

With three broad strides he closed the distance between them. Bracing both hands palms down on the tabletop, he brought his face close to hers, his eyes burning. \u201cWhat, then, Nora? What does matter? Tell me, lass, for I\u2019ll do whatever I can to make this work for us. I swear I will! Tell me what I can do to convince you to marry me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nora remembered he had asked her that same question once before, when he was still a young man preparing to go to America. He had done his best then, too, to convince her to be his wife.<\/p>\n

That had been seventeen years ago. Seventeen years, and her answer was still not what he wanted to hear.<\/p>\n

\u201cMichael, you know you have ever been\u2026special\u2026to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

He said nothing, simply went on searching her eyes, his large, blunt hands now clenched to fists atop the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cI do care for you\u2026\u201d She did. She was not immune to Michael\u2019s appeal, his almost arrogant handsomeness, the strength that seemed to pulse from him. But more than that, and far deeper, were the memories that bound them, the friendship that even today anchored their affection for each other. She could not bring herself to hurt him, but neither could she lie to him!<\/p>\n

Suddenly, he stunned her by grasping both her hands in his and pulling her up from the chair to face him. Holding her hands firmly, he drew her to him. \u201cAnd I care for you, Nora,\u201d he said, his voice gruff. With one hand he lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his relentless gaze. \u201cI have always cared for you, lass, and that\u2019s the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trembling, Nora held her breath as he bent to press his lips to hers. Irrationally, she almost wished Michael\u2019s kiss would blind her with love for him, send stars shooting through her. Instead, she felt only the gentle warmth, the same sweet, sad affection she had felt for him all those years so long ago when he had kissed her goodbye, regret brimming in his eyes, before sailing for America.<\/p>\n

He knew. He said nothing, but she felt his knowing as she stood there, miserable beneath those dark, searching eyes that seemed to probe her very soul. Gradually he freed her from his embrace, setting her gently away from him with a sad smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have been through a great sorrow,\u201d he said huskily. \u201cAnd I am asking too much of you, too soon. I\u2019m sorry, lass. Perhaps it\u2019s just that I\u2019m anxious for you to realize that when you\u2019re ready, I will be here. I will wait.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Michael, please\u2014don\u2019t\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He put a finger to her lips to silence her. \u201cEnough sober talk for tonight. Why don\u2019t we have us a stroll? We\u2019ll go and find the lads and see what they\u2019re up to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Relieved, Nora nodded, managing a smile. \u201cAye, I\u2019d like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Michael smiled, too, watching her with infinite tenderness. Framing her face between his calloused hands, he brushed his lips over her forehead. \u201cRemember that I am still your friend, Nora Ellen. No matter what happens\u2014or does not happen\u2014between us, I will always be your friend.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nora could have wept for gratitude at his understanding, his gentleness. \u201cThank you, Michael,\u201d she whispered. \u201cThank you for being the man you are. And thank you,\u201d she added fervently, \u201cfor being my friend.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n


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.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":[8,34,91,41],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5713","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-historical","category-ireland","category-romance"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5713"}],"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=5713"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5713\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5720,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5713\/revisions\/5720"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5713"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5713"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5713"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}