Touch of Grace (Daughters of Blessing Book #3) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Lauraine Snelling

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169 pages

English

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The arrival of a wealthy young man leads Grace to question what she really wants in life.

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 mars 2008
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441203489
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0259€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

A Touch
of Grace
Books by Lauraine Snelling
A S ECRET R EFUGE
Sisters of the Confederacy
D AKOTAH T REASURES
Ruby Pearl Opal Amethyst
D AUGHTERS OF B LESSING
A Promise for Ellie Sophie s Dilemma A Touch of Grace Rebecca s Reward
H OME TO B LESSING
A Measure of Mercy No Distance Too Far
R ETURN TO R ED R IVER
A Dream to Follow Believing the Dream More Than a Dream

A Touch of Grace Copyright 2008 Lauraine Snelling
Cover design by Koechel Peterson Associates, Inc., Minneapolis, Minnesota
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise-without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Published by Bethany House Publishers 11400 Hampshire Avenue South Bloomington, Minnesota 55438 www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
E-book edition created 2011
ISBN 978-1-4412-0348-9
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
DEDICATION
T O M ARCY , K ATHLEEN, AND C ECILE , who help and encourage me far more than they realize. Thanks is never enough.
LAURAINE SNELLING is an award-winning author of over sixty books, fiction and nonfiction, for adults and young adults. Her books have sold over two million copies. Besides writing books and articles, she teaches at writers conferences across the country. She and her husband, Wayne, have two grown sons, a basset named Chewy, and a cockatiel watch bird named Bidley. They make their home in California.
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Bjorklund Family Tree
June 1902
Blessing, North Dakota
W HERE IN THE WORLD AM I?
Jonathan Gould stared at the open window with a sheer white curtain puffing in a slight breeze. While the world outside had light, the sun had yet to blue the sky. The voice came again.
Jonathan, time for milking.
Milking. He lifted his head enough to focus around the room. That s right; he was back in North Dakota at the home of the Bjorklunds. And this time wouldn t be like the first. That had been a brief visit for the graduation before heading to San Francisco, where his father had a business meeting. This time he was here for the summer to find out what manual work was like. The thought sent him burrowing back into the pillow.
He heard steps creaking up the steep stairs and then a knock on his door.
Jonathan, the others are leaving for the barn. Mrs. Bjorklund s voice caught him by the nape of the neck and threw him from the bed. Not that she screamed or scolded, but she d had to make the trek up those stairs just to wake him. After his father had admonished him to not make life any harder for these good people. People who d been his father s friends for many years and who were doing him a favor to employ his son for the summer. All he needed was for them to report to his father that he wouldn t get out of bed in the morning. Then his father would believe the rumors he was becoming a wastrel.
I ll be right down.
Good. The coffee is hot if you d like a cup before you go.
He could hear her descending the stairs as he pushed his feet into denim pants that should have been washed at least fifty times to soften them before he tried wearing them. Stiff was a weak word for the rigidity of the heavy cloth. At least his long-sleeved shirt had been worn plenty of times. They d said to bring old clothes to work in, but he hardly had any. He slammed his feet into his boots, threaded his belt through the loops, glanced in the mirror long enough to run a comb through his dark curly hair, and headed downstairs.
Was it Astrid, the Bjorklund daughter, who called him the first time when he thought it a dream? Last night when she d told him that he d be learning to milk the cows in the morning, he d smiled and wished he d headed back to New York on the train. While they didn t look like dangerous beasts, he d not had even a petting acquaintance with similar animals. His idea of cattle was the long-horned steers he d seen in paintings, animals that roamed the Wild West along with the buffalo.
Good morning. I hope you slept well. Mrs. Bjorklund, garbed in a white apron from neck to ankle, turned from the huge cast-iron stove with a smile.
I must have. Did someone call me earlier?
Ja, Astrid did, but she said you didn t answer.
I thought I was dreaming. Actually I thought it a nightmare, but
You ll get used to the early mornings. I think it s the most beautiful part of the day, when the earth is waking and the sun peeps over the horizon. She handed him a steaming cup. Did you want cream and sugar?
Her Norwegian accent reminded him of their cook at home. Thank you, no, he said as he shook his head. Not that he was a big coffee drinker, but right now he needed all the help he could get. He took a swallow and stifled a cough. Hot and strong enough to stand his hair on end. From now on he would ask for cream and sugar, although he suspected none of the rest of the family did. Fit in, his mother had advised him. Some fitting-in things would take a real effort, like straight coffee.
Can I get you anything else? Ingeborg was now breaking eggs into a large bowl from a basket of eggs she had sitting on the counter. The heat from the cookstove had already removed any coolness from the air.
No, thank you. He drained his cup and set it in the sink. More advice from his mother: Put things away. There will be no help to follow after you like you ve had here. You don t want to cause them extra work. They have enough to do. He d not been sure if his mother was in favor of his coming west or not, since she had been so set on his spending the summer at the shore and then abruptly changed her mind. Maybe she felt responsible for the rumors flying around, since at her request he d begun the party scene at prep school. Is there anything I need to take to the barn? he asked Mrs. Bjorklund.
No, all the buckets and milk cans are already there. Breakfast will be ready when you are finished. Her gentle smile made him feel welcome all over again.
He headed out, leaping down the three steps of the back porch. He jogged toward the big red barn, where the sound of cows and slamming wood, people laughing and a rooster crowing reminded him to hurry. He was late for his first day on the job-a mortal sin, according to his father. This was not going to help prove he could be responsible.
Other than the laughter, the smell hit him when he entered the dimness of the barn. His nose pinched, and he swallowed. He d never been tolerant of smells. When Mr. Bjorklund had given him a tour of the place the afternoon before, the barn hadn t reeked like this. He d identified hay and grain when they opened the feed bin and an overlay of this odor that now drove other senses right from his head.
I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day. Astrid grinned up at him, her blue eyes twinkling. Her sun-streaked wheat-colored hair hung in a thick braid down her back; a faded apron covered her from just below her neck to halfway down her skirt. Pa said I am to teach you how to milk. We saved the gentlest cow for you.
He hoped she wasn t teasing on that point as he took a bucket and three-legged stool from her hands and followed her down the aisle. Andrew-one of her brothers-and Samuel, Trygve, and Grace-the Knutson cousins who lived next door-were already milking away, filling their buckets with foaming white milk. Others were milking on the opposite side of the long barn.
Jonathan still wasn t sure how this whole family worked together. He knew Mrs. Knutson ran the school for the deaf and Mrs. Bjorklund the Blessing Cheese Company, but the arrangement of the farming between the two families still confused him. Obviously all the milk cows were here.
This is Bess. Most of us learned to milk on her. She is more patient than any of the others. She s never kicked anyone. Astrid set the stool down, gave the brown and white cow a couple of pats, and sat down herself, so close her head was right next to the cow s flank. You need to be close enough to be comfortable or your back will begin to hurt after a cow or two. Then you put the bucket between your knees like this. As she spoke, she did each action. Using a squeeze and pull motion, starting with the rear teats, although it doesn t matter which two you do first, you grasp firmly but gently and squeeze and pull. Milk pinged down into the metal bucket.
He stared from her face to her hands, watching the rhythm and smelling the warm fragrance of fresh milk, a more comforting odor than the rest of the barn. A black and white cat padded down the aisle and sat by his feet, pink tongue and white needle teeth showing with a yawn. She chirped a sound like a question mark. He stared in awe as Astrid turned her hand and a teat and squirted milk right into the cat s wide open mouth.
The cats like their share.
Ah, I see.
Your turn. She smoothly twisted and, in one motion, handed him the bucket and stood.
Is this what prisoners feel like when led out to the firing squad? Are you sure you shouldn t show me again? Preferably for the rest of the summer .
I ll coach you. This is the worst time; it ll get easy after a few cows.
He sat down, his tongue gluing itself to the roof of his mouth. He took the bucket and set it between his knees. It slipped out, and he barely caught it before it tipped the milk covering the bottom.
You have to clamp your legs on it.
He swore he could hear laughter in her voice. The thought made him squeeze his legs and lean forward to take the two teats she d