8.One of my favorite scenes is when Judith gets some needed advice from her mother. What is the best piece of advice that you’ve received from your mother about motherhood?
Read on
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A Sneak Peek of Shelley Shepard Gray’s Next Book, Snowfall
MARTIN HAD BECOME A MASTER at sipping a coffee and pretending that he wasn’t nearly as worried as he actually was. But if there was ever a time when he found it rather difficult, it was this morning.
And that was because they were currently waiting for one Ruth Stutzman. He knew next to nothing about her. They belonged to different church districts. He couldn’t remember ever meeting her in town, either.
Though that shouldn’t have been a great surprise. He didn’t ever notice women, even women whom his friends slyly mentioned were giving him special smiles or were going out of their way to chat with him. As far as he was concerned, his heart belonged to Grace and it always would.
After walking to the stove and warming up his cup, Martin realized that he didn’t know much about Ruth Stutzman at all. Only that she was a friend of Lovina Keim’s and that she’d agreed to take a leave of absence from her job at the retirement home to help him care for his children during Christmas break.
Everything about the situation grated on him. He didn’t like the fact that Lovina Keim had called him last night after eight o’clock and informed him that she’d found him a new babysitter.
When he’d asked how such a thing had come about, she’d relayed that she’d told Ruth all about him. And all about his motherless kinner. And how he couldn’t cook and he was in dire need of a helping hand. Or several helping hands.
He’d been so appalled, he’d almost hung up.
But because he had no idea how to contact this Ruth, and he had no other option for the children other than packing them up and taking them to work at the Christmas tree farm, he’d instead conveyed his thanks.
But that didn’t mean he liked being known as a helpless widower, or that he appreciated that folks at the Daybreak Retirement Home were talking about him.
It hurt a man’s pride to be thought of as a charity case.
It almost physically hurt to realize that he was going to have to accept this Ruth Stutzman’s help no matter what. He was that desperate. The trees weren’t going to get chopped and transported by themselves. It was his job. Which was why he’d said yes to Ruth, though just imagining what Ruth was like made him cringe.
Already he was imagining an older woman with a bossy nature. After all, who else but a woman like that would be friends with Lovina Keim?
No doubt she would barely tolerate his brood, frown a lot, and speak her mind even when no one asked for her opinion.
If they were lucky.
And though he would never allow a woman into his home who would be mean to his kinner, he was enough of a realist to realize that taking care of six kinner like his was enough to make even the kindest and patient of women become a bit shrewish. Even his lovely Grace had lost her patience a time or two over the course of a day.
And because of that, Martin knew his children would be sad and miserable. And, perhaps, a touch resentful that while their many friends were out playing, baking cookies, and doing whatever else small children liked to do over Christmas breaks, they were having to spend their days in the company of a grumpy old woman named Ruth.
And after working all day at the Christmas tree farm, he was going to have to return each day, prepared to listen and cajole his children to try to deal with Ruth just a little bit longer.
He loved his children dearly. He’d loved his Grace, too, and had been delighted that she’d wanted such a big family. And for a time, their lives had seemed charmed.
And then not so charmed at all.
Yes, the Lord had shown him time and again that wishes and dreams didn’t always count for much.
It had been a difficult lesson to learn but it had also been a valuable one.
“Daed, do you see her?” Thomas asked from the doorway leading into the dining room that they never used anymore.
“Not yet.”
“Is she late?”
Thomas was a busy, buzzing child. As restless as a beaver on holiday and twice as inquisitive. “Nee, son. She ain’t late yet.”
“Then why are you staring out the window and frowning?”
“I’m simply looking out the window and thinking. There’s a difference.”
“Ah.” Pulling over one of the dining room chairs, Thomas settled by his side and mimicked his pose. “What are you thinking about?”
“This and that.”
“Are you thinking about Christmas?” His question had just the right amount of hope in it to make Martin’s lips curve up.
“I’m thinking about Christmas trees.”
Thomas sighed. “That’s all you think about.”
“That is not true. I think about lots of other things, too.”
“But mainly you think about trees.”
Not in any hurry to share just how much he worried about Thomas and his siblings, Martin lifted his chin. “Son, those trees occupy a good portion of my mind these days for a gut reason. They’re important to our livelihood. We need to sell lots of trees this year.”
“Oh? Do ya think, maybe, we could have a tree in our house?”
At least one of the children asked this every year. “Nope.”
“Even if it was a small, ugly one?”
“Not even then.”
Thomas swung his feet. Shifted. Stood up and pressed his nose to the cold windowpane. After staring out the window thirty seconds, it was obvious he was bored. “Can I come with you today? I could help.”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re cutting and loading trees today, son.”
“I could help.”
“I’m afraid you can’t. It’s dangerous work. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He straightened his narrow shoulders. “I’m pretty strong.”
It took everything Martin had to keep a serious expression. “You are a mighty fine boy. And you are strong for being only eight. But I’m afraid you’re not big enough to help. Not yet. One day you will, though.”
“When? Next year?”
“I’m thinking when you’re twelve.”
Thomas’s eyes widened, then settled into his scowl. “That’s forever from now.”
“You should enjoy being eight, then.”
“I’m sick of staying home with old ladies.”
Resting his hand on his boy’s shoulders, Martin added, “I know it’s hard, but someone needs to look after you all.”
“It’s boring. All Mrs. Keim wanted to do was sit in the kitchen and watch the clock.”
Martin figured it would be best to say nothing about that. “Regardless, I have a feeling someday you’ll be working so hard you’ll be wishing for days like this.”
“Days when I’m waiting for another grumpy babysitter? I don’t think so.”
“We don’t know for sure if this one will be grumpy.”
“Daed, she works with old people all day,” Thomas said with the supreme confidence that only a child could have. “She’s gonna be grumpy.”
Since Martin felt his son had a point, he pressed his lips together and started simply hoping for a reprieve from the questions.
It was almost a relief to see the horse and buggy clip-clopping up the driveway. “We shall soon find out, won’t we?” Turning, he saw that his Katrina had the rest of the kinner lined up against the window in the other room. They were standing in front of the window and looking out with various expressions of forbearance and dismay.
He stood up and carefully tucked his chair back to the kitchen table and motioned for Thomas to do the same. Then he stepped into the dining room and quietly spoke. “You all stay here while I go out and greet Ruth.”
“Can you make sure she’s nice, Daed?” Meg asked, her eyes filled with hope.
Reaching out, he pressed his hand on the top of his youngest child’s kapp. “I will do my best,” he promised.
While the children watched, Martin slipped on his coat, positioned his black stocking cap on his head, then walked out the door just as the buggy came to a stop in front of one of the hitching posts in front of the house, hoping all the while that this Ruth was going to be nicer than he expected her to be.
“Please, Lord,” he quietly prayed. “Please, just give me a little bit of a break, wouldja? ’Cause I could surely use some help here. Make this woman not be too terrible. My kinner have already lost their mother. They don’t need a sourpuss babysitter, too.”
As the cold wind brushed against his cheeks, he lifted his eyes to the heavens and gave a fierce look. Then, as Ruth’s horse pawed at the dry, hard ground restlessly, he hurried over to help. “Hello,” he called out.
Just as Ruth Stutzman deftly hopped out of the buggy. Their eyes met. After the briefest of pauses, she smiled.
Martin blinked. And then, to his embarrassment, he blinked again, just as if he’d never seen a woman before.
Ruth Stutzman was young. And pretty, too. She had dark, wavy hair and pale, crystal-blue eyes. A smattering of freckles danced across her nose and the palest of pinks brightened her cheeks. She was of medium height and blessed with the kind of curves he’d always imagined women should have but always tried hard not to think about.
Maybe because she’d caught him so off guard. Or maybe because he was sadly out of practice when it came to conversing with pretty women, he blurted the first thing that came to mind. “You are nothing like I expected.”
Raising a pair of finely arched eyebrows, her smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “Isn’t that something? I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
Martin was not sure if that was a compliment or not. And because he was so confused about his reaction, he turned away and grabbed hold of the horse. “It’s too cold for your horse to be out here for long. I’ll take him into the barn.”
“I’ve got a blanket for him in the back of the buggy. Would you like me to cover him for you?”
“Nee.”
She stared at him, obviously waiting for him to finish his thought. To explain himself.
But he did neither. He simply stood still, holding the gelding’s reins. He had never been a man of many words.
But suddenly, well, absolutely not a single one came to mind. Not a single, solitary one.
Click here to buy Snowfall
also by shelley shepard gray
Sisters of the Heart series
HIDDEN
WANTED
FORGIVEN
GRACE
Seasons of Sugarcreek series
WINTER’S AWAKENING
SPRING’S RENEWAL
AUTUMN’S PROMISE
CHRISTMAS IN SUGARCREEK
Families of Honor
THE CAREGIVER
THE PROTECTOR
THE SURVIVOR
A CHRISTMAS FOR KATIE (NOVELLA)
The Secrets of Crittenden County
MISSING
THE SEARCH
FOUND
PEACE
The Days of Redemption series
DAYBREAK
RAY OF LIGHT
EVENTIDE
Return to Sugarcreek series
HOPEFUL
THANKFUL
REDEMPTION
credits
Cover design by Mary McAdam Keane
Cover illustration by Ricky Mujica
copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
P.S.™ is a trademark of HarperCollins Publishers.
JOYFUL. Copyright © 2014 by Shelley Shepard Gray. Excerpt from Snowfall © 2014 by Shelley Shepard Gray. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST EDITION
EPub Edition July 2014 ISBN 9780062204516
ISBN 978-0-06-220450-9
1415161718OV/RRD10987654321
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