She heard Michael and Rebecca clatter onto the front porch and felt the tender moment fade. She’d hoped this summer might have taught Hadden to hold his children tighter, but she supposed he had his own struggles to contend with. While her husband had returned to her, Hadden’s wife never would. And he had yet to learn what could ease that emptiness. Although, perhaps, his learning what wouldn’t was a first step.
She touched Loyal’s arm and pointed to the door, where his friends waved for him to join them. He let his spoon drop to the table, grabbed his books, and ran to meet them. Then he stopped and rushed back to give her a kiss on the cheek. He hesitated in front of his father, probably wanting to be more grown up with him. Creed reached out and squeezed the boy’s shoulder and signed Proud of you. Do good today. Loyal’s face lit like the sun appearing after a storm. He signed I love you, then turned and headed for the door.
Delphy watched as Michael made a hurry up! gesture, smiling at the sound of her son’s laughter—loud and off-key—mingling with the other children’s as they disappeared outside and down the street. Still smiling, she stood to gather the breakfast dishes when Creed hooked her with one callused hand and drew her down onto his lap. She pushed at him, but they both knew she didn’t mean it.
“Worried about him?” Creed asked.
She reached up to muss his perfectly groomed hair, and he let her. “It’s funny,” she said, “but I’m not.”
“Our boy can take care of himself. Guess we both know that now.” A strand of hair fell across his forehead, making him look rakish. She pushed it back into place.
“He can,” she agreed. “Still, isn’t it wonderful he has you to take care of him, as well?”
“Not just me,” Creed said while tracing her collarbone with a cool finger. “He has us.”
She sighed and dipped her face close until he could feel the heat of her breath against his ear. “That he does. And you know what?” She took Creed’s murmur as answer enough. “I think Loyal might like to have someone to take care of too—maybe a little brother?” She brushed her lips along the line of his freshly shaved jaw. “Or sister?”
Creed wrapped her tighter and pressed his lips to hers, only pausing long enough to whisper, “That might could be arranged.”
And with that, any last defenses she might have forgotten to take down melted away and she knew the long winter ahead wouldn’t be nearly long enough.
Author’s Note
I found the seed of this story in an account of the unsolved murder of Mamie Thurman. At first I thought I was going to write about this poor woman found murdered on a remote road in West Virginia in 1932. But there was a character in her story who kept calling out to me. In most accounts, the person who discovered the body was simply described as a “young deaf-mute.” Intriguing. I did a bit of research and it turns out his name was Garland Davis and he was actually thirty-two—not SO young. Little else is known about him, however, beyond the one account that mentions he testified in the murder trial using “hand communication.”
Well, if that won’t spawn a story, I don’t know what will! From that seed sprouted Loyal—a thirteen-year-old boy who’s deaf but not altogether mute. And he does indeed use American Sign Language, something that must have been an oddity in a small town in 1930s West Virginia.
Special thanks go to author Jennifer Major, who has extensive experience with family members who are deaf and graciously read the manuscript to make sure I handled ASL and the deaf experience reasonably well.
Acknowledgments
My thanks for this story begins with my editor, Dave Long, who’s never satisfied with the first version of any story I throw out (seriously, Dave, thank you for that!) but who has an amazing talent for weeding ideas down to the healthiest sprout with the strongest roots. I’m also so very grateful for the rest of the editorial team.
Then there’s the marketing team at Bethany House, led by Noelle Chew and Amy Lokkesmoe. Not only are they smart cookies but they’re also super fun to hang out with!
I couldn’t do this work without the great team at Books & Such Literary Management. My agent, Wendy Lawton, is an encourager, a cheerleader, a prayer warrior, and a voice of wisdom when a story needs a little extra push.
Penultimate thanks go to my husband, Jim Thomas, who sometimes wonders if I prefer my laptop to him (I don’t!). Thanks for putting the kettle on, hon.
And ultimate thanks go to God, who gave me the gift of words and the ability to wield them. May every story glorify Him.
Sarah Loudin Thomas is a fund-raiser for a children’s ministry who has time to write because she doesn’t have children of her own. She holds a bachelor’s degree in English from Coastal Carolina University and is the author of the acclaimed novels The Sound of Rain and Miracle in a Dry Season—winner of the 2015 INSPY Award. Sarah has also been a finalist for the Christy Award, the ACFW Carol Award, and the Christian Book of the Year Award. She and her husband live near Asheville, North Carolina. Learn more at www.sarahloudinthomas.com.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Books by Sarah Loudin Thomas
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Contents
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Epilogue
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
List of Pages
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The Right Kind of Fool Page 28
