Wishing on Buttercups (43 page)

I hope you’ve enjoyed this second book in the Love Blossoms in Oregon series and will join me again in book three,
Dreaming on Daisies
, Steven and Leah’s story. The first chapter is included beginning on
page 395
. I hope they’ll whet your appetite and keep you reading!

Miralee Ferrell

Great Questions

for Individual Reflection and/or Group Discussion

1. What was Beth’s dream? What was Jeffery’s dream? What is your dream?

2. When Beth receives a letter from a publisher about her illustrations, she experiences the fulfilling of a dream. When have you experienced the first-time fulfillment or renewal of a dream? How did you get to that point in your life? How did it feel when you accomplished that dream?

3. Jeffery looked to his family—especially his father—for approval. Whose approval is important to you, and why? How have you handled that longing for approval?

4. Have you, like Beth, ever felt scarred and unlovable? Afraid to love for fear of being hurt? If so, when … and why? How have those feelings influenced your life now?

5. In Chapter Three, Wilma Roberts tells Beth, “Physical marks and family connections mean nothing, my dear. God looks at the heart, not the outward appearance. Never forget that.” Do you agree with that statement? Why or why not?

6. When has a person seen you—with all your scars—as worthy and lovable? Tell the story. How did that moment change your perception of yourself?

7. In Chapter Four, Jeffery approaches Beth with good intentions, but she views his efforts differently. When have you found yourself at odds with someone because you didn’t understand each other’s communication? What happened as a result? Looking at the situation now, what would you do differently if the situation arose again?

8. In Chapter Eleven, Wilma tries to help Beth understand what others see—and don’t see—in her. What do you think others see—and don’t see—in you? How can viewing yourself that way encourage you to change … for the good?

9. Isabelle feels regret and guilt for a situation in the past that wasn’t within her control. How has that affected her life from that point forward? How did it affect her relationship with her surviving son?

10. Have you felt regret or guilt over a past situation? If so, how might you take a step forward today into a healthier frame of mind, instead of staying mired in the past?

11. Frances Cooper and Wilma Roberts have a unique, hard-won relationship. They don’t always agree, and they often rub each other the wrong way. But they also play the role of loyal friend and truth teller in each other’s lives. What benefits do you see in their lives as a result? What person(s) or group serves as loyal friend and truth teller in your life? How has that person’s or group’s insight influenced you to become a better person?

12. How does Jeffery view his father? How do others view Mark Tucker? Why do we sometimes view the ones we love so differently than others do?

13. In what way(s) does Beth’s insecurity about her past and family, as well as her prior relationship with Brent, cause her not to trust others? Is it easy for you to trust others? Why or why not?

14. Beth Roberts carries a heavy burden of secrets. How does trying to protect those secrets cause her problems? What secrets are you carrying that weigh you down? How might you lighten the burden of, or bring to light, those secrets so you can live in freedom both now and in the future?

15. Beth’s favorite flower is the buttercup. After spending so many years “wishing on buttercups,” what dreams of hers come true by the end of the book? Of your own dream(s) that you listed for the first question, how might you move from “wishing on buttercups” to actually holding that dream and drinking in its beauty and scent, as Beth did at the end of the story?

A Sneak Peek at Book Three:

Dreaming on Daisies

Miralee Ferrell

Chapter One

One mile outside Baker City, Oregon

Mid March, 1881

Leah Carlson kicked a wicker chair out of her way and stormed off the porch, angrier than she’d been in years. Well, years might be a stretch, but at least weeks. Or perhaps several days. Maybe riding to town and finding Pa would be a good idea. She glared at the ground, her mood not improved by the thick mud clinging to the bottom of her boots, and scraped the mud off on a horseshoe nailed to the bottom step. March, her least favorite month, always felt somewhere between winter and spring with none of the benefits of either.

She trooped up the steps and righted the chair. Not the chair’s fault Pa had gotten drunk again and stayed all night in town. Buddy, their aging ranch hand, had seen Pa go into the saloon when he’d headed home from the mercantile last night. At first he hadn’t told her in hopes that his boss would return at a decent hour, but that hadn’t happened.

Leah wrapped her coat closer around her shoulders. Now most of the chores would fall on her, Millie, and Buddy, Millie’s husband. With Buddy’s back giving him fits, she couldn’t ask him to do the heavy work, although his pride would force him to try. Why did Pa keep falling off the wagon whenever hope set in that he’d finally beat that horrible habit?

Empty promises, that’s all she ever got. Promises he’d change. Promises he’d do better. Promises he’d broken ever since Ma died nine years ago. And lately it had only gotten worse. She’d gone from a child at the tender age of fourteen to a caretaker and ranch foreman almost overnight, and to this day she still felt robbed.

At least the ranch was safe as long as she worked hard to pay the bills—as long as Pa didn’t try to use it as collateral for his drinking debts. But something needed to change. Maintaining this place was too much for her and Buddy alone. Pa had to stop drinking. Of course, he appeared to think everything was fine and even bragged in town about his successful cattle and horse business.

She plopped down into the righted chair. Over the years she’d done her best to cover for him, but he’d had enough “episodes” lately that she knew people were talking. All she could do was keep up appearances and find at least one more hired hand—the sooner the better. Digging up some extra cash and increasing her herd of horses by a couple dozen wouldn’t hurt, either.

Dragging Pa home and shaking some sense into his noggin sounded very tantalizing. But knowing her father, he would ignore her efforts or embarrass her in public. No, accosting Pa in town wouldn’t work. Somehow she had to beat him at his own game and bring him to his senses. She had no idea how, but she’d find a way, if it was the last thing she did.

The front door creaked on rusty hinges, and Millie poked her head outside. “Girl, you goin’ to sit there all day starin’ at nothin’ or come in and get ready for that weddin’ you’ve talked about for the past two months?”

Leah bolted upright and jumped to her feet. “Oh, my goodness. I can’t believe I forgot Beth’s wedding.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “How much time do I have to get decent?”

Millie gestured at her mud-caked boots and stained trousers. “Not near enough, from what I can see. Guess you could stay at home. It’s not like you’re close friends with either the bride or the groom.”

Leah shook her head. “I promised Katherine Jacobs I’d help with the refreshments since they’re entertaining a few close friends at the boardinghouse after the ceremony. Besides, Beth has attended our quilting group occasionally since Christmas, and we’ve become friends.” She stepped past Millie and headed for the stairs leading to her room. “If Pa comes home while I’m gone, see if you can make him stick around, will you, please?”

Millie grunted. “Can’t nobody make that man do nothin’ he don’t want to, girl. You should know that by now, especially if he’s been drinkin’. But I’ll try.” She waved her hands as Leah paused. “Get on with you. Nothin’ you can do here, anyhow. It’s about time you had some fun before you’re old and gray like me. Who knows? Maybe some good luck will rub off the bride and land on you.” She wrinkled her nose. “There’s got to be at least one man in this world who’s marriage material that don’t irritate you.”

Leah grinned. “Of course there is, but you snatched him up years ago. I’m destined to be an old maid the rest of my life and live here with you and Buddy, so quit trying to fix me up. I’m perfectly happy the way things are.”

“Humph. Likely story.” Millie crossed her arms and scowled, the creases beside her mouth deepening. “We’re not going to be around forever, you know.”

“You are too. Neither of you have permission to leave me alone.” Leah choked on the last word and fled to her room. Millie had been the closest thing to a mother she’d had for more years than she cared to remember.

Steven Harding hauled on his horse’s reins, his heart galloping so fast he thought it would burst from his chest. Had his horse trampled that man lying in the road? He set the brake and wound the reins around the handle, then leaped from his buggy and ran forward.

The man seemed almost burrowed into the mud, his shoulder muscles twitching and right leg jerking. He lay flat on his back, eyes closed, with one arm flung over his forehead. A guttural groan broke from his parted lips.

Relief swept over Steven. At least the man wasn’t dead. But where had he come from? The busy streets of Baker City were behind Steven, and the boardinghouse where his sister and mother lived was only a few blocks away on the outskirts of town. Had he been daydreaming and not noticed the man crossing the road?

He leaned over and touched the fellow’s arm. “Are you all right, sir?”

The fallen man mumbled before rolling to his side and pushing to a sitting position. He swiped a filthy hand across his cheek, flicking away a glob of mud and blinking his eyes. “Wha’ happened?”

Steven recoiled as the stench of alcohol hit him. Was he drunk? It was only midmorning. Surely no one started their day drinking enough to be intoxicated at this hour. He pulled his thoughts back where they belonged. It wasn’t his place to judge, especially after he almost ran over the fellow. “I’m not certain. I didn’t see you crossing the road in time to stop. Can you get up? Nothing’s broken, I hope?”

The man groped for his hat resting on a flat rock a short distance away. He slapped it against his hand, then jammed it onto his head, covering the ring of gray hair. “Don’t think anything’s broken. I don’t recall what happened. I need to get home and do my chores.”

Steven gripped his arm and hoisted him to his feet. “Let me give you a ride. Unless you have a wagon or horse nearby?”

“Don’t rightly remember if I do.” He gazed around with a bewildered stare and took an unsteady step. “Reckon I can walk.” Taking another stride, he staggered, his boot plopping into another section of mud, sending a spray of dirty water only inches from Steven’s clean trouser leg.

Steven sprang forward and caught the man with one hand before he pitched onto his face. With his other hand, Steven took out his pocket watch and gave it a hurried glance. Two hours before he had to pick up his sister, Beth, and his mother for the ceremony. “Do you live far?”