All is
not straightforward when money and titles are involved.
Orphaned, afraid and on the
run, Chip must Flee.
Madeline was his mother’s
best friend. Maddie now needs to keep her charge safe and alive. She must give
up her life to protect the boy she has loved since birth.
Months after Chip’s parents’
demise, Maddie sets out to deliver Chip to his Uncle Humphrey, who lives in
Sydney. Through him, she meets Chip's friend Tim, who falls for Maddie— but
will they find happiness?
The menacing presence soon
finds Chip, and Maddie needs to hide him again. They are moved from hidden
farms to secret valleys, ending up in an aboriginal encampment.
Can Tim find a way to be with
Maddie? And if so… Will Chip ever be safe?
Sara Powter lives on the NSW Central Coast. Her
childhood was spent with her parents, mainly travelling up and down the East Coast
of Australia, fishing, shell collecting, and doing some of her education
through correspondence schooling.
With a passion for science, she worked as a
Scientific Assistant in the Entomology Department of the Department of
Agriculture. She married Stephen soon after leaving there, and they spent 30
years in Ministry in the Newcastle Anglican Diocese in NSW, only retiring at
the end of 2020.
When ‘Covid 19’ hit, time was available to pen some
of the stories she’d wanted to write for some time. Within twelve months, eight
stories were finished, and ideas for more were coming (after four years, she
had recently completed her twenty-eighth book). These stem from her passion for
Colonial Australia, her convict ancestors, and the fantastic country’s remarkable
history!
Sara wrote these as she wished to complete one of
her mother’s unfinished manuscripts. The series prequel, “Dancing to Her Own
Tune,” is now completed and ties in Sheila Hunter’s Australian Trilogy with
Sara’s Lockley series and many others. All are Clean Australian Historical
Fiction.
But… Watch for more in The Hunter to Macquarie
Collection and The Convict Birthstain Collection.
“The plot has its twists and turns to keep
readers intrigued…to the very end. A great comfort read that will
soothe the spirit with renewed hope and faith.” Readers’ Favorite five-star review
A HISTORICAL NOVEL OF
FINDING HEALING AND A SECOND CHANCE AT LOVE
In the early 1900s, quiet
and reserved Molly Lund finds refuge from her past at the Nelsons’ farm in Minnesota. In an attempt to turn a new
page in her life, Molly works at making peace with her losses and coming to
terms with the disfiguring burns on her face.
Samuel Woodson, the
Nelsons’ hired hand,
carries his own cares. Split from his family and bearing a burden of misplaced
guilt for an act that haunts him, Samuel–seeing past
Molly’s scars–draws her out of her self-protective shell.
Molly and Samuel form a
friendship, but just as their hearts lead them deeper, an unexpected guest
comes calling, demanding what’s his.
Will Molly and Samuel find
a way to be together or will they be separated, due to impediments beyond their
control? Can they trust in God’s plan and travel a path that heals the hurts of the past?
Readers of historical
fiction, Christian historical fiction, and Christian historical romance will
delight in this beautifully wrought story of the healing power of love.
“A heartwarming story of healing from external
and internal scars. Through some of life’s harder lessons the characters learn to trust, forgive, and find second
chances out of the ashes of pain and loss.”
Anne Perreault, author
of eighteen inspirational novels, including the Yellowstone series
Trigger Warnings:
Grief, trauma from burns, accidental death, time in an insane asylum
Mabel appears out of nowhere, a huge
smile on her face. “Samuel!
Just the person we need.” She wipes her hands on her ever-present apron. “You
have a guest, a visitor.”
She waits expectantly.
“Wh-who?”
I stutter out.
I can’t imagine who could have come calling
for me. No one I know from home knows where I am. At least, I don’t
think they do. Sitting on the bench, I yank my boots off and peel off my coat.
Mabel’s eyes twinkle in the lamplight as she
leans against the door jam. “You’ll
never guess.”
I shake my head and shrug, waiting for
her to tell me.
“Your
mother. Isn’t
that nice? I bet you’ve missed each other. And there’s
nothing like being with family for the holidays. Thanksgiving will be upon us
before we know it.”
Her words fade as one thought fills my
mind: Mother is here. It’s been months, but I’m
not ready to talk to her yet and definitely not ready to forgive her, or myself
for that matter.
“Samuel?”
Mabel places a light hand on my shoulder. “I
thought you’d
be pleased.”
Her lovely features wrinkle.
I shake my head, slow and purposeful. “Didn’t
Linc tell you?”
She lowers her voice and one brow. “Tell
me what?”
Swallowing, I say, “Of
our...difficulties.” I don’t want to reveal too much.
She places one hand over her heart and
pats the back of her head with the other. “Of
course, he mentioned your father’s death and your grief, but…”
We catch each other’s
gaze in the seconds of uncomfortable silence between us.
My mother’s head appears around the corner of
the doorframe to the kitchen. “Samuel?”
She’s changed. Her once prim but happy
smile and flashing, gray eyes only reflect the pain of burying one husband
right after another.
I sit up straight and clear my throat,
grubbing out, “Mother.
I didn’t
expect to see you.”
Forcing myself to look into her eyes,
I hold steady. Out the corner of my vision, Mabel slips back into the kitchen
without a sound.
Mom sighs. “I
gather you didn’t.” She dabs at her nose with the
hankie she's pulled out of her lace-edged, black sleeve and sniffs loudly. She
has always known how to cook up a thick amount of theatrics. “How
could you go off and leave me all alone? I just don’t understand it.”
Mother keeps her eyes cast down in
martyr mode, playing her usual victim card.
Anger brings me to my feet and my
voice rises in volume before I can tamp it down. “How
on God’s
green earth would you expect me to stay?” A stream of ire bursts forth “After
giving the farm away to that money-grubbin’...” I slap my hand on my thigh and step
closer to her until her face is inches from mine and spit out my accusations. “And
to see you preening to him like a peahen before Pa was even cold in the ground.”
She looks up then, eyes hard and icy.
“Shush
your mouth!” she whispers fiercely and glances toward the kitchen, where I
vaguely hear Mabel loudly clinking dishes. “You
should know me better than to think I, in any way, acted improper with Alfred.
We’d
been friends for many years, and he comforted me and supported me when your
father took his turn.”
Grabbing at her black, lace collar,
Mother looks up at me. Her small, thin, drawn face gives me a prick in the
ribs.
She is my mother, after all.
Her skinny index finger presses
against a shirt button on my chest. “And
you with your pointing finger. I might point mine right back at you.”
The old guilt rears its head again. I
swallow, my ears buzz, and a weariness at the same repeated battle with Mother
knocks at my brain.
I brush her finger away and turn. “Mabel’s getting supper on the table. Lincoln
should come in any time.”
We still stand in the entryway,
awkward and opposed, and I have no desire to keep bickering with Mother in
front of Linc and Mabel, much less Molly. I wonder where she is.
Her mouth relaxes and her eyes soften.
“Yes, well. I missed you, Samuel. A
mother wants to see her son.”
“How
did you find me?”
“Paul
Richardson saw you at a dance and mentioned that he had.”
That old schoolmate of mine. Leave it
to Paul, gossip itself and worse than an old lady at a quilting bee. “Ah.
Well, I didn’t
see him.”
“No.
He mentioned that your eyes were fixed…elsewhere.”
Great. That’s all I need: suspicions about a
supposed romance.
Lincoln steps into the house, his gaze
down until he sees us. “Supper
on yet?” He removes his crusty barn cap and nods at Mother. “Excuse
me, Mrs. Woodson...ah, that is, Mrs. Skaggs now; Sam has informed me.” He grins
and extends his hand, then thinks better of it and wipes it on his side. “It’s
been some time since I saw you last. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mother nods her head and offers the
briefest of smiles.
“Thank
you. You’re
looking well, Lincoln.”
Mabel appears around the corner. She
looks to Lincoln.
“There
you are.”
It’s getting much too tight of quarters
for me, and I wedge past Mabel. “We
should make our way in and let Lincoln have room to get his barn things off.”
I motion with my hand toward the
kitchen to Mother. “Yes,
of course,” Mother says, stepping by Mabel as well.
I point out the dining room and head
to the washroom. Her voice comes from behind me. “Samuel.”
I stop but don’t turn. “Yes.”
“I...”
Her voice cracks. “I
don’t
know how to fix what’s broken between us.”
The breath I didn’t know I held fizzles out of me.
“Ya,
me either,” I admit, and I go to wash the last remains of barn smell from my
hands and arms and pray for God’s mercy for the rest of the evening.
Jenny Knipfer
Jenny
lives in Wisconsin with her husband, Ken, and their pet Yorkie, Ruby. She is
also a mom and loves being a grandma. She enjoys many creative pursuits but
finds writing the most fulfilling.
Spending
many years as a librarian in a local public library, Jenny recently switched to
using her skills as a floral designer in a retail flower shop. She is now
retired from work due to disability. Her education background stems from
psychology, music, and cultural missions.
All
of Jenny’s books have
earned five-star reviews from Readers’ Favorite, a book review and award contest company. She holds membership
in the: Midwest Independent Booksellers Association, Wisconsin Writers
Association, Christian Indie Publishing Association, and Independent Book
Publishers Association.
Jenny’s favorite place to relax is by the western
shore of Lake Superior, where her novel series, By The Light of the Moon, is
set.
She
deems a cup of tea and a good book an essential part of every day. When not
writing, Jenny can be found reading, tending to her many houseplants, or
piecing quilt blocks at her sewing machine.
Her
new historical fiction, four-part series entitled, Sheltering Trees, is set in
the area Jenny grew up in, where she currently lives, and places along
Minnesota’s Northern Shore,
where she loves to visit. She is currently writing a four-part novella series
entitled: Botanical Seasons and a three-part fantasy series entitled: Retold
Fairy Tales.
