{"id":6547,"date":"2010-12-09T00:14:16","date_gmt":"2010-12-09T05:14:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=6547"},"modified":"2010-12-09T00:14:16","modified_gmt":"2010-12-09T05:14:16","slug":"maverick-heart-by-loree-lough","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=6547","title":{"rendered":"Maverick Heart by Loree Lough"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TA3PbPpKjHI\/AAAAAAAAEFE\/e9Dq6nSnpCA\/s1600\/FIRSTWildCardTours2.jpg\"><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/firstwildcardtours.blogspot.com\/\"><img decoding=\"async\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480264388542368882\" style=\"float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 145px; height: 200px;\" src=\"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TA3PbPpKjHI\/AAAAAAAAEFE\/e9Dq6nSnpCA\/s200\/FIRSTWildCardTours2.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\" \/><\/a>It is time for a <span style=\"color: #990000;\"><strong><a href=\"http:\/\/firstwildcardtours.blogspot.com\/\">FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span><strong> <\/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&#8230;or for somewhere in between!  <span style=\"color: #990000;\"><strong>Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000;\"><em>You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<div><strong>Today&#8217;s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n<div style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 180%; color: #cc0000;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.loreelough.com\/\">Loree Lough<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 180%; color: #cc0000;\"><span style=\"font-size: 100%; color: #cc0000;\">and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 180%; color: #cc0000;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/ASIN\/1603742263\">Maverick Heart<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Whitaker House (January 4, 2011)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">***Special thanks to Cathy Hickling of Whitaker House for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n<div><strong><span style=\"font-size: 130%; color: #333399;\"><span style=\"color: #cc0000;\">ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TPxqPRkrEgI\/AAAAAAAAEoE\/ADthKXpPL14\/s1600\/LoughHeadShot.jpg\"><img decoding=\"async\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547425651661410818\" style=\"float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 136px; height: 200px;\" src=\"http:\/\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TPxqPRkrEgI\/AAAAAAAAEoE\/ADthKXpPL14\/s200\/LoughHeadShot.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\" \/><\/a>Loree Lough is a well-known and beloved Christian romance writer who has published over 75 books, 65 short stories, and hundreds of magazine, newspaper, and Internet articles. A tireless advocate of the inspirational fiction genre, she\u2019s recognized as a leader in the field and is a sought-after speaker at writing seminars and workshops. Loree is a regular contributor to a variety of publications for writers, a columnist for Christian Fiction Online Magazine and keeps in touch with readers through her website and blog, <a href=\"http:\/\/theloughdown.blogspot.com\/\">The Lough Down<\/a>, Facebook, Twitter, MySpace and Shoutlife.<\/p>\n<p>Visit the author&#8217;s <a href=\"http:\/\/www.loreelough.com\/\">website<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p><object classid=\"clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000\" width=\"400\" height=\"250\" codebase=\"http:\/\/download.macromedia.com\/pub\/shockwave\/cabs\/flash\/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0\"><param name=\"allowFullScreen\" value=\"true\" \/><param name=\"allowscriptaccess\" value=\"always\" \/><param name=\"src\" value=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/v\/2T4brczRec8?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b\" \/><param name=\"allowfullscreen\" value=\"true\" \/><embed type=\"application\/x-shockwave-flash\" width=\"400\" height=\"250\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/v\/2T4brczRec8?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b\" allowscriptaccess=\"always\" allowfullscreen=\"true\"><\/embed><\/object><\/p>\n<p>Product Details:<\/p>\n<p>List Price: $9.99<br \/>\nPaperback: 400 pages<br \/>\nPublisher: Whitaker House (January 4, 2011)<br \/>\nLanguage: English<br \/>\nISBN-10: 1603742263<br \/>\nISBN-13: 978-1603742269<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 180%;\">AND NOW&#8230;THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong><br \/>\n<\/span><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TPxnzVglXzI\/AAAAAAAAEn8\/EXdtxYoF68o\/s1600\/Maverick%2BHeart%2Bby%2BLoree%2BLough.jpg\"><img decoding=\"async\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547422972658409266\" style=\"float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;\" src=\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/TPxnzVglXzI\/AAAAAAAAEn8\/EXdtxYoF68o\/s200\/Maverick%2BHeart%2Bby%2BLoree%2BLough.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<div style=\"overflow: auto; height: 307px;\">\n<p>May 1888<\/p>\n<p>Somewhere along the San Antonio Road<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou behave as though you\u2019re the first woman to have a miscarriage!\u201d Liam scolded Levee. \u201cPull yourself together. Can\u2019t you see you\u2019re making everyone miserable?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That had been three days ago, but the memory of it still stung like the gritty, windblown Texas dust. Levee huddled in a corner of the stagecoach and prayed that her husband wouldn\u2019t notice her tears. She\u2019d never been the type to wallow in self-pity, but was it too much to ask her husband to show some warmth and compassion? As a doctor, he should have been able to acknowledge that her reaction to losing the baby was perfectly normal.<\/p>\n<p>Frowning, she tucked her lace-trimmed handkerchief back into her purse\u2014a mistake, for Liam saw and correctly guessed that she\u2019d been crying. Again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019ll never get over it if you don\u2019t at least try to put it out of your mind,\u201d he grumbled.<\/p>\n<p>The impatience and disappointment in his voice hurt almost as much as his earlier reprimand, and Levee heaved a sigh. Oh, if only she could put it out of her mind!<\/p>\n<p>Maybe he had a point. Maybe thirty-four days of grieving her lost baby had been enough. As one of the first women in the country to earn a nursing degree, Levee understood the mental and physical aftereffects of a miscarriage. But could melancholia explain why she felt her husband was too preoccupied about opening his new clinic in Mexico to mourn the loss of yet another baby?<\/p>\n<p>Like it or not, they would arrive in Mexico in a matter of days. Chihuahua, of all places, where she didn\u2019t know a soul, and the people spoke a language she didn\u2019t understand. Where, according to Boston newspapers, outlaw gangs roamed the\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHold on to your hats, folks!\u201d the driver bellowed. \u201cBandits, ridin\u2019 in hard and fast!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Amid the thunder of horses\u2019 hooves and the report of gunfire, their fellow passenger, who\u2019d introduced himself only as Mack, calmly unholstered two six-shooters. \u201cYou got a gun, doc?\u201d he asked Liam as he peeked out through the leather window covering.<\/p>\n<p>Liam clutched his black medical bag tight to his chest. \u201cYes, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThen you\u2019d best get \u2019er loaded and cocked. There\u2019re three of them and five of us. We might just have us a fightin\u2019 chance\u201d\u2014he fixed his brown eyes on Levee\u2014\u201cif you can shoot.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Just as she opened her mouth to confess that she\u2019d never so much as held a gun, one of the stagecoach drivers cut loose a bloodcurdling scream. Quick as a blink, his body hurtled past the window and hit the ground with a sickening thump.<\/p>\n<p>With a trembling hand, Levee clutched her throat, and Mack groaned. \u201cMake that four of us.\u201d He spun the chamber of the second revolver and, after pulling back the hammer with a click, wrapped the fingers of Levee\u2019s other trembling hand around the grip. \u201cJust aim and pull the trigger, and keep on doing that till you\u2019re out of bullets.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cB-but how will I know when I\u2019m out of\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAre you two God-fearin\u2019 Christians?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She heard Liam\u2019s dry swallow. \u201cI don\u2019t know what that has to do with anything,\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n<p>Mack glared at him. \u201cIf you want to get out of this mess alive, you\u2019d best start prayin\u2019. Pray like you\u2019ve never prayed\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His warning was cut short by male voices shouting and terrified horses trumpeting. Gears and brakes screeched as the coach came to a jolting halt.<\/p>\n<p>Then, a deadly hush rode in on a cloud of dust.<\/p>\n<p>The door nearest Levee flew open with a bang. \u201cThrow them guns into the dirt,\u201d growled a masked gunman.<\/p>\n<p>When Liam slid his revolver back into his doctor\u2019s bag, Mack gave a slight nod, then tossed his own pistol out the door. Taking his other gun back from Levee, he uncocked it and flung it to the ground, too.<\/p>\n<p>The bandit raised his rifle barrel higher. \u201cGit on outta there, one at a time, and don\u2019t try no funny business, neither.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Levee climbed down first, followed by Liam. So much for Mack coming up with a last-minute scheme to save us, she thought as he joined them in the shade of the coach.<\/p>\n<p>A few yards away, two more bandits sat in their saddles. The smooth baritone and well-enunciated syllables of the tallest didn\u2019t fit the rudeness of his words: \u201cGather anything of value you find on their person or in their valises,\u201d he told the rifleman. And then, using his chin as a pointer, he said to the man to his left, \u201cYou. Fetch the money.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Their immediate obedience made it clear that this man was one to be reckoned with. Levee\u2019s heart beat harder as his cohorts carried out his orders, but it wasn\u2019t until the strongbox hit the ground with a loud clang that she noticed the other stagecoach driver, hanging like a half-empty flour sack over the armrest of his seat. She could almost hear Mack thinking, And now we\u2019re down to three. Their only hope was the tiny pistol hidden in Liam\u2019s bag. But even if by some miracle the cowboy managed to retrieve it, would it be enough to disarm all three thieves?<\/p>\n<p>The second bandit fired one round, demolishing the heavy iron lock on the strongbox. If he noticed Levee\u2019s tiny squeal of fright or Liam\u2019s gasp of shock, it didn\u2019t show. \u201cMust be fifty thousand dollars in here!\u201d he said, pawing through the contents. He gave a rousing \u201cYee-haw!\u201d and saluted his leader. \u201cAll\u2019s I can say is, you sure know how to pick \u2019em, Frank!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShut up, fool!\u201d bellowed the rifle-toting robber. \u201cNow we\u2019ll hafta kill \u2019em, so\u2019s they won\u2019t be able to tell the rangers they was robbed by the Frank Michaels Gang!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Frank Michaels Gang? Why did that sound so familiar? Levee\u2019s question was quickly extinguished by a sickening admission: in her twenty-two years of life, she\u2019d never given a thought to how she might leave this earth. Until now.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo need to get your dander up,\u201d Mack drawled. \u201cY\u2019all just keep right on helpin\u2019 yourselves to everything we\u2019ve got. Think of us as the three wise monkeys. We didn\u2019t see a thing or hear a thing, and we won\u2019t speak a thing, either.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d Liam quickly agreed, \u201ceven if the Texas Rangers ask questions\u2014an unlikely event, since we don\u2019t plan to seek them out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Levee looked up at her husband, unable to decide which surprised her more: the fact that he\u2019d opened his mouth or that he\u2019d opened his medical bag. But in one beat of her hammering heart, his hand disappeared inside it. In the next, his puny revolver dangled from his fingertips. \u201cI think you boys should\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>One shot rang out, and even before its echo fell silent, Liam slumped to the ground. \u201cNo-o-o!\u201d Levee wailed, dropping to her knees. She cradled his head in her lap and, for the first time since graduating from the New England Hospital for Women, regretted her nursing degree. Because one look at the bloody wound in the middle of his chest told her that although he wasn\u2019t dead yet, he soon would be.<\/p>\n<p>Liam gasped for breath. \u201cI\u2014I wanted to\u2014give them\u2014the gun,\u201d he sputtered, \u201cto p-prove we\u2014c-could be trusted\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHush, now,\u201d she whispered, finger-combing dark curls from his forehead. \u201cShh.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mack threw his Stetson to the ground and kicked it. \u201cOf all the\u2026.\u201d Arms whirling like a windmill, he kicked it again. \u201cDid you hear what the man said? He\u2019s from Boston, for the luvva Pete. He meant you no harm. Why, I doubt he could\u2019ve hit the broad side of a barn with that pea shooter of his, even if he\u2019d tried!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLooked to me like he was aimin\u2019 to shoot,\u201d one of the bandits insisted, \u201can\u2019 nobody takes aim at Frank Michaels whilst I\u2019m around.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The rifleman cursed under his breath. \u201cThought I tol\u2019 you to shut up, Tom.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll of you shut up,\u201d Frank snarled.<\/p>\n<p>But Levee paid him no mind. \u201cFight, Liam,\u201d she urged him. \u201cStay with me! You promised that as soon as we were settled, we\u2019d\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His eyelids fluttered open, and an enormous, silvery tear leaked from the corner of one eye. \u201cS-sorry, Levee,\u201d he rasped, grabbing her hand. \u201cS-sorry\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere\u2019s nothing to be sorry for, Liam. You\u2019re going to be fine.\u201d Oh, please, God, let it be true! \u201cJust fine! Do you hear me?\u201d No sooner had the words passed her lips than his body shuddered once, and the fingers that had been squeezing hers went limp. A dribble of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth to his chin. Then, one grating, ragged breath later, he was gone.<\/p>\n<p>Levee couldn\u2019t help feeling guilty about her role in his death. These horrible men had murdered her husband, but if she hadn\u2019t put her dream of a nursing degree ahead of their wedding plans, they would have had a house to call their own. If she hadn\u2019t spent so many hours on her feet at the hospital, they would have had a child or two, instead of two unfruitful pregnancies to mourn. Perhaps, with a family to occupy his time and fill his heart, Liam wouldn\u2019t have reacted with such enthusiasm to the article in the Boston Globe that spoke of the need for doctors in Mexico. Why had she let him talk her into this move? And why had she bowed to the dictates of society and the Good Book regarding wifely submission? If only she\u2019d been stronger and less self-centered!<\/p>\n<p>She watched the thugs help themselves to Liam\u2019s hard-earned savings. Watched them poke through her small suitcase as Frank Michaels tucked Grandpa O\u2019Reilly\u2019s gold pocket watch into his vest. He looked up, caught her staring, and touched a finger to his hat brim. \u201cMy apologies, ma\u2019am,\u201d he said, aiming a steely smile her way. \u201cAnd to prove my sincerity, we aren\u2019t going to kill you. You have my word on that.\u201d A grating chuckle passed through the red and black fabric of his bandanna. \u201cAt least, not today.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His implied threat hung on the parched air as Levee looked into her husband\u2019s ashy face.  Almost from the moment they\u2019d left Boston, Levee had been afraid. Afraid of ghastly-looking bugs and wild animals, afraid of the unrelenting wind and the dry, desolate land that seemed to stretch on forever. Afraid of the outlaws and bandits she\u2019d read about. Distraught and anguished, she was beyond fear now. A swirl of self-blame, guilt, and shame roiled inside her like a cyclone, putting put her on her feet.<\/p>\n<p>Fists balled at her sides, Levee marched up to the leader\u2019s horse. \u201cYou killed my husband for no reason, and you think a phony apology will make things right? You\u2019re\u2014you\u2019re a lunatic, Frank Michaels, and so are these so-called men who ride with you.\u201d Levee wiped angrily at her traitorous tears. \u201cLook at you, hiding behind your masks. Why, you\u2019re nothing but cowards, the lot of you. Heartless thieves and\u2014and cold-blooded killers. You\u2019d better shoot me good and dead, right here where I stand, because the very first chance I get, I will report you to the Texas Rangers, and nothing will please me more than to watch you hang for your crimes!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her hysterical tirade silenced even the chorusing insects and chirruping birds. Silenced the amused chortles of Frank and his cohorts, too. The men exchanged puzzled glances, and then the one named Tom said, \u201cYou want I should plug her, Frank, or d\u2019you wanna do it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Frank rested one leather-gloved hand atop the other on his saddle horn, seeming to consider the idea. \u201cI gave her my word, and I intend to keep it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tom snorted. \u201cShe\u2019ll probably die of thirst before she reaches the next town, anyway.\u201d Winking, he added, \u201cIf the coyotes don\u2019t get her first.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Levee had been an unwilling eyewitness of what the mangy canines could do to a deer carcass, and in very little time, too. She pressed her fingertips to her closed eyes to block the grisly image, and when she did, the picture of Liam\u2019s lifeless body took its place. A dozen thoughts flitted through her head. Could she have used her medical training to do something to save him? Why hadn\u2019t she seen the gunman take aim before he fired at Liam? If she had, what might she have done to prevent the shooting?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCoyotes,\u201d she heard the rifleman say. \u201cYou got that right, Tom. No chance she\u2019ll live long enough to tell anybody what happened here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mack\u2019s voice broke through. \u201cThat was uncalled for,\u201d he grumbled. \u201cThe poor woman just lost her husband.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>As if she needed a reminder! Please, Lord, please, let this be a terrible nightmare. Let me wake up and realize that\u2014<\/p>\n<p>A deafening explosion ended her prayer. She wasn\u2019t dreaming, as evidenced by the whiff of smoke spiraling from Frank\u2019s gun barrel\u2014and the ghastly sound of Mack\u2019s body hitting the ground. \u201cNo-o-o,\u201d she wailed for the second time today. \u201cNot him, too! B-but you promised not to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI only promised not to kill you,\u201d Frank said, then coolly holstered his revolver and faced Tom. \u201cUnharness the team.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Frank and his men had ended three lives in barely more than three minutes, and with three words, he\u2019d dismissed the matter. The howling wind whirled around them, gathering the dust into tiny twisters that hopped across the prairie like jackrabbits. Levee buried her face in her hands, unwilling to let the bandits witness one more moment of her misery. She had the rest of her life for that.<\/p>\n<p>Life. She almost laughed at the notion. Sitting in the middle of the Texas prairie, waiting for only the good Lord knew what to kill her, wasn\u2019t her idea of life.<\/p>\n<p>An idea dawned: perhaps, if she got them good and angry, they\u2019d shoot her, too, and she could join Liam in paradise.<\/p>\n<p>So, Levee began hurling insults and slurs, shrieking like a crazed fishwife, and waving her arms. But she might as well have been a cactus or tumbleweed for all the attention they paid her. Infuriated, she picked up rocks and pebbles and hurled those, too, yet the outlaws continued to ignore her. It seemed they really did intend to leave her out here in the middle of nowhere to wait for starvation and thirst\u2014or hungry coyotes\u2014to kill her. Oh, Father, please let it be coyotes, she prayed. As painful and terrifying as that would be, she\u2019d die faster that way than by nature\u2019s cruel hand. Either way, she\u2019d have ample time to repent of her sins of selfishness.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re no better than the coyotes!\u201d But her words disappeared into their cloud of get-away dust and gleeful bellows. Hugging herself, Levee sunk to the dirt between Liam and Mack and sat on her boot heels, rocking and groaning, groaning and rocking, as she waited for the tears to start.<\/p>\n<p>But not a single drop fell. Not for her husband or the babies they\u2019d lost, not for the brave young cowboy who died defending her, not even for herself, alone and afraid, somewhere in West Texas.<\/p>\n<p>She didn\u2019t know how many hours had passed when the sun began to sink below the horizon like a gold coin disappearing into a slot. A dark chill blanketed the plains, waking snaky shadows that slithered from bush to scrubby shrub. That\u2019s when strange, forlorn moans spilled forth from Levee\u2019s lips, ascended into the blackness, and merged with the midnight cacophony of night birds and bugs and coyote calls.<\/p>\n<p>By the time exhaustion rendered her silent, the moon was high in the sky, and she found herself cuddled up to Liam. And, though his lanky body offered no warmth or comfort, that\u2019s where she stayed, praying that before morning, the Almighty in His loving mercy, would call her home, too.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<p><strong><br \/>\n<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>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 [&hellip;]<\/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-6547","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\/6547","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=6547"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6547\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6552,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6547\/revisions\/6552"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6547"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6547"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6547"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}