Tidewater Inn (43 page)
I so love to hear from you! Email me at colleen@colleencoble. com and let me know what you thought of the story.
Love,
Colleen
1. Libby had struggled to survive monetarily for years so the thought of having no worries about money was appealing. Money is not evil in itself. What do you think about wealth's influence on our spiritual lives?
2. It often seems our culture doesn't honor the older generation. Why don't we and what are we missing?
3. Vanessa and Brent didn't welcome Libby's intrusion into their lives. How would you feel if you found out you had a sibling you didn't know about?
4. Pearl is based on my grandma, and I smiled just writing her into the story. Her love for me and others was always unconditional. Do you have a person in your life who loves you that way?
5. Ray's biggest legacy wasn't money but a spiritual heritage. What do you hope to leave behind for your family?
6. Libby's struggle between greed and generosity is basically a struggle between selfishness and selflessness. What are some other common things we struggle with?
AN EXCERPT FROM
BLUE MOON PROMISE
www.thomasnelson.com/blue-moon-promise.html
O
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ucy Marsh pulled her threadbare coat around her neck and hurried down the snow-clogged street. Glancing behind her, she saw only the snow drifting onto run-down houses. The rapid thump of her pulse began to calm, and she managed to breathe through her tight lungs.
Maybe it was her imagination. For the past week she'd caught a glimpse of the same man every evening after work, and until today, she told herself he must live in the same general area. But she'd left early today and he had still been there. This time he seemed to watch her. A black coat covered him and he wore a hat pulled low over his face, so only the twitch of his smooth-shaven chin appeared. When she stopped and stared at him, he darted around the corner of the building.
She took the opportunity and dashed across the street, skirting the horse and carriage blocking her path to the house. The roof leaked and wind blew through the boards and under the windowsills, but it had been home for ten years. Glancing behind her again, she saw no sign of the man so she hurried up the steps.
Pressing her hand to her stomach, she paused and wished she didn't have to go inside. What was she going to do now? Mrs. Hanson had been apologetic about letting her go. It was hard times and not her work that necessitated firing her. But the hard facts didn't feed them. While 1877 had been a bad year so far, Indiana had been particularly hard hit.
But she would find a way. She always managed.
The steps to the porch took careful navigation. They tilted to the front, and it was easy to lose her balance. She paused outside the door. The children would worry, so she tried on a smile. When it stayed in place, she turned the doorknob. Before she could open the door, Amos Cramer's gruff voice stopped her.
“One moment, Miss Marsh,” he panted, hurrying up the steps toward her. He was a large, red-faced man with sparse gray hair and a handlebar mustache. He parked himself in front of her door and wheezed, struggling to catch his breath.
She had tried to be kind to their landlord until Mr. Cramer mistook her kindness for romantic interest. Now she just tried to stay out of his way when he came to collect the rent. Her back against the door, Lucy pressed away as far as she could to escape the strong odor of stale perspiration that drifted toward her.
He crowded closer. “I'm afraid I have some bad news for you.” His muddy gaze slid avidly over her face and hair.
Lucy pressed tighter against the wall, though it gained her no space between the odious man and herself. What now? She didn't think she could endure more bad news.
“I've decided to sell out and go back to New York. I've had an offer I can't refuse for this place. The new owner plans to tear it down and build a store here.” He hesitated and rubbed his lips with a dirty handkerchief. “I'm afraid I must ask you to leave within the next seven days.”
Lucy gasped. “A week? How can I find something else in a week?”
Amos shrugged. “I'm sorry, my dear. You might try that boardinghouse over on Canal Street. They might have an opening.” He pursed his lips and raked her figure with his gaze before turning and waddling away.
Lucy's throat grew thick. She couldn't cry, not now. Tears would frighten the children. Fingering her locket, she straightened her shoulders and pushed open the door.
Her three-year-old sister launched herself against Lucy's legs. “Lucy, you was late.” Eileen stuck out her lower lip. “We has company.”
Lucy looked toward the single chair in the tiny parlor. A man with gray hair and penetrating charcoal eyes sat regarding her calmly before he stood. There was something forbidding in his face, and she inhaled.
Please, God, have mercy
. Her gaze sought and found her brother, Jed. Twelve years old, he'd been a handful all year. His hangdog expression did nothing to calm her fears.
“Jed?”
His gaze remained on his worn shoes. “Uh, Lucy, this isâ”
“I'll introduce myself,” the gentleman interrupted. He stepped toward her and stared into her eyes. “Henry Stanton of Larson, Texas.” He shifted his gray Stetson in his hands. “Your father was my boyhood friend. I came as soon as I heard of his death.”
Henry Stanton. Lucy struggled to remember if her father had ever mentioned him. She knew her parents had grown up in Texas. Her Uncle Drew was still there. “I'm delighted to meet you, Mr. Stanton. How did you hear of our father's death?”
“His wife wrote me asking for help, so I decided to make a stop here on my way back from Chicago. Is she here?”
Lucy shook her head. “Catherine left right after Father died.”
The man frowned. “Left? I don't understand.”
She didn't like to speak ill of anyone, but he had to know why Catherine wasn't here. “Her, uh, friend showed up and she left with him.”
“She abandoned her children?” His voice rose.
Lucy looked to where Eileen was playing with her doll. The child didn't seem to be paying attention. “I cared for them anyway,” she whispered. “Catherine wasn't good with children.”
“I see.” He pointed his hat at Jed. “Your brother is in a heap of trouble, miss. He lifted my wallet when I talked with him on the porch.”
Stealing? She stared at her brother and the guilt washed over his face. “Jed, how could you?” It was too much. She sank onto the edge of the bed and buried her burning eyes in her hands. Her shoulders heaved as she tried to get her emotions under control. The events of the past few weeks had drained her. When she raised her head, she found Henry with a speculative look on his face.
“Please don't distress yourself, Miss Lucy. Young Jed's behavior will be corrected on the ranch.”
“On the ranch?”
“Tell me, Miss Marsh, are you a Christian woman?”
Standing again, she straightened her shoulders and exhaled. “Why, yes, sir, I am.”
“I thought as much. God has led me here for a purpose.” He smiled. “I have a proposition for you.”
Her pulse quickened. Perhaps there would be a way out of these dreadful circumstances yet. “What would that be, Mr. Stanton?”
“Have you read in the Bible how Abraham sent a servant out to find a wife for Isaac?”
“Of course.” Lucy's heart sank before beginning a rapid beat against her chest. Surely he wasn't offering for her hand. He was
old
. Older than her father.
“That was my main purpose for this trip, though my son has no idea of my mission. Now that I've met you, I believe you will do nicely. Nate needs a wife like you.”
His son. Lucy's limbs went weak. The room spun, and she sat back on the edge of the bed.
“I can see I've shocked you.”
Lucy eyed the man. “Isâis your son a Christian?”
Mr. Stanton smiled. “That just confirms the Lord's leading me here. As soon as I clapped eyes on you, something reared up inside me and I knew you were the right one for my Nate. Yes, my boy is a Christian.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I have my son's signature to act as his agent in all business matters for this trip, so if you agree, I will arrange a proxy marriage. Right after the ceremony we'll leave for Texas. A train leaves at one o'clock tomorrow afternoon.”
“Why would we not return to your ranch and see if your son and I would suit?”
“You don't know my boy. He is apt to send you packing rather than listen to reason.” He shook his head. “No, this is the only way.”
It felt wrong to surprise this unknown Nate. Lucy held up her hand. “I'd rather know we suit before I pledge my life to a man. And give him a chance to get to know me as well.”
He thrust out his chin. “This is my offer, Miss Lucy. It's the only one I'm making.” He nodded at her siblings. “Think of your brother and sister. They will have warm beds and plenty of food to eat. Fresh Texas air and plenty of room to grow up.”
Her main consideration was the children. While the thought of marrying someone she didn't know was most unappealing, Lucy had to consider the offer. They were about to be evicted, and she'd lost her job. How could she possibly support the children? “I'd like time to pray about it.”
“I would expect nothing less from a good Christian woman. I'll return tomorrow at nine for your answer. If you're accepting my offer, have all your things packed. There will be no time to spare.” His walking stick thumped on the floor as he walked to the entry.
When the door closed behind him, Lucy clenched her hands in her lap and turned to her brother. Too angry to speak, she just looked at him.
Jed swallowed hard and took a step back. “It was a dare, Lucy. I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I was just funnin'. I gave it back to him.”
“A dare? You risked jail for a dare?” She buried her head in her hands. “Lord, help me,” she whispered.
She lifted her head, opened the locket, and stared at the face of the unsmiling young woman. What would her mother have her do? Lucy squared her shoulders. This wasn't beyond her capabilities.