Karen Witemeyer

“It was amazing how the right words spoken by a man could soothe insecurities.”

“Honey, if the man is that dense, you can drag that cot he been sleepin' on into your room, nab his clothes, and lay in wait for him. When he comes lookin' for his things, lock the door and settle the matter once and for all.”

“A chuckle escaped Meredith's lips as Cassie swung from sleepy little girl to sympathetic confidante to vengeful angel all in the course of a single minute.”

“Your kite, milady?"She curtsied and handed it to him. "Why, thank you, Sir Tucker. Take care, though. The fabric is wont to snag.”

“He unlaced his arms and took a step forward. "You hurt?""Not badly." She tried to smile, but her lips only curved on one side. "My main problem is that I'm stuck to a cactus."(...)"How'd you manage to get tangled up with a cactus?" J.T. crouched beside her and started extricating her from the prickly plant."Well, believe it or not, I was on my way to apologize to you when a prairie-dog hole jumped up and grabbed my shoe heel.”

“With no sums to keep his conscience at bay, the black book loomed large, creeping into his line of sight.He scanned the room for something else to do. The harness still needed work. And he'd been meaning to fix that rickety shelf since last month. The pipe on his potbellied stove was dented. The windowsill needed dusting.Dusting?J.T. braced his arms on the desk and pressed his forehead into the heels of his hands.”

“Jericho, hmm?" Hannah felt an answering grin curve her lips. "I suddenly feel a great fondness for that name."The two women giggled like young girls scheming behind the schoolhouse. Jericho Tucker had no idea what was coming his way.”

“Are you sure I can't mend a shirt or darn a sock for you in trade? Anything?""You can quit your yammerin' and carry this table downstairs so I can get back to minding my own business instead of messing around in yours.”

“You need not treat me like a child, sir. I am perfectly capable of navigating this staircase on my own."He snorted.Her nostrils flared. "I promise not to ask you to catch me again, all right? Now stop scowling."Of course he did no such thing.”

“You got someone else courting you?""No." The fork she'd been scrubbing slid from her hand, returning to the murky depths. "But then, I wasn't sure I had you courting me, either. I seem to recall you expressing a number of objections to my suitability in the past.”

“I myself prefer being called Cassie. It's so much friendlier and less pretentious than Cassandra, don't you think? ... I think both fit you right fine. One is elegant and graceful, the other fun and lively.”

“If you want to protect me, prayer is just as powerful a weapon as that gun you carry.”

“No matter how many precautions we take, none of us are truly in control. Only God can claim that kind of authority. All we can do is use the good sense he provides and trust him to guide us.”

“Read. Everything you can get your hands on. Read until words become your friends. Them when you need to find one, they will jump into your mind, waving their hands for you to pick them. And you can select whichever you like, just like a captain choosing a stickball team.”

“The fiasco in the barn flashed through her mind. Yesterday she'd showered him with oats and today she'd pummeled him with a broom. At this rate, he'd be dead by the end of the week.”

“Jericho? You're smiling." "I am?" He stroked her cheek again. Warm tingles coursed through her, and instinctively, she followed his touch a second time. His smile widened. "I must be happy." (...) "You're quite handsome when you're happy." Jericho trailed one finger under her chin. "I'll make a note of your preference.”

“One day I'm going to catch you in a full-blown grin, Mr.Tucker," she said, wagging a finger at him, "and when I do, watch out because I'm going to crow in victory." "We all need goals in life, Miss Richards." J.T. swung two boards up onto his shoulder and peered down at her. "Mine's to get this stuff delivered before the first snow falls. You think I got a chance at making that happen?”

“And therein lay the crux of her problem. She didn’t trust God to direct her steps. When trouble loomed, she altered her course, convincing herself she was displaying wisdom and the courage of her convictions. Yet in actuality, she was surrendering to fear, letting it control her in place of the Lord’s hand”

“All this time she’d thought it God’s will that she be a spinster. She had grown content with that expectation, taking satisfaction in the wisdom she’d gained through her experience with Stephen. No man would dupe her again. But what if living alone was never part of God’s plan for her? What if she chose that life because it was safe—because she was afraid?”

“No, she’d spent the last five years begging the Lord to help her find contentment in her spinster status. And he’d been faithful. She had her library, her Ladies Aid work, the children’s reading hour. She could come and go as she pleased, spend her money as she deemed fit, all without the hassle of first gaining a man’s permission. And if the loneliness sometimes ate away at her like water poured on a sugarloaf . . . ? Well, God had seen her through the last five years. She figured he could be depended upon to see her through the next fifty.”

“It was like skimming through a novel without fully engaging with the story until a well-turned phrase or powerful bit of imagery snagged her attention, hinting at depths previously unnoticed.”

“. . . if you can't see the good man he is, you need to unscrew them eyeballs of yours and try on a different pair.”