Rachel King has always loved horses. After her two older
sisters are married off, Rachel decides to go to Charm,
Kentucky to live with her cousin Sarah on their chicken farm
and find a job working with horses. Her plan works well, and
she is hired on as a tour guide at Twelve Elms horse farm.
That's where she meets Jake Brady, the farm owner's son.
There's an immediate attraction between them, but there's
one problem. Rachel is Amish and Jake is an Englisher. At
only twenty, Rachel is still in her Rumspringer time, and
isn't sure what she wants in her life. She always thought
she'd marry Amish and live in that culture, but Jake is a
distraction she finds hard to resist. Can they work across
the chasm separating their two worlds?
An even bigger problem is weighing on Jake at the moment.
The family bred one of their mares with a championship
thoroughbred and Enough to Please is a gelding with lots of
promise as a championship race horse. Jake convinces his
family to take a second mortgage on their farm to hire an
experienced trainer and staff to make Enough to Please a
Kentucky Derby winner. When an investment group offers to
purchase the horse, Jake turns them down. Now he's worried
about all the things that could go wrong over the next year.
Did he make a big mistake, knowing the family could lose
everything?
A LITTLE BIT OF CHARM is a well-written, charming
inspirational novel. It skillfully compares and contrasts
the Amish, Mennonite and English Christian beliefs and
culture. Rachel and Jake both struggle with their own
beliefs and what they want for their lives. Jake also
reveals his selfishness and arrogance, while Rachel realizes
that you don't know what you have until it is gone. These
two main characters are strong, smart and true-to-life. The
supporting characters help to move the plot and subplots
along, blending them seamlessly. Mary Ellis incorporates a
social/cultural issue into the story with an outbreak of
polio and how the Amish and Mennonite view English medicine.
If you are a fan of inspirational fiction, this is a moving
story you do not want to miss. And there are some fantastic-
sounding recipes, mentioned throughout the story, that are
at the end of the book.
A Little Bit of Charm, the third book in
bestselling author Mary Ellis's New Beginnings series, is
about fresh starts...and how faith in God and His perfect
plans provide the peace and joy all long for.
After
the death of her parents and then watching both of her older
sisters find happiness in homes of their own with husbands
who adore them, Rachel King yearns for a new beginning. Her
cousin Sarah lives near a thoroughbred stable in Kentucky,
and working around beautiful horses is Rachel's dream come
true. She leaves Lancaster County to find a job at Twelve
Elms Stables and believes God has answered her prayers.
And then she meets Jake, an attractive and charming
Englisch man. At first she refuses to go out with
him, but he eventually convinces her to give him a chance.
When Amish men who also wish to date Rachel start
encountering strange mishaps, she wonders if Jake is really
who he seems to be.
What does a young woman do when
her heart is pulled in two directions?
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
Randolph County, Missouri
“Whew, it’s already the middle of September and it’s still
hotter than blazes.
Rachel looked at her younger sister in horror. “Shush,
before someone hears
you. What will the Gingerichs think of us?”
Beth peered up with an innocent expression. “Is ‘blazes’ a
bad word? I’ve heard
daed say ‘build a blaze in the woodstove’ or ‘a
blazing sunset.’”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Just hush on general principles.
Soon you’ll be on your
way back to Lancaster County. Then you can revert to your
normal self. But let’s put our
best foot forward while we’re still visitors here.”
Beth’s green-eyed focus turned wary. “What do you mean by
I’ll be on my way
back to Pennsylvania?”
Rachel ignored a question she wasn’t yet ready to answer.
“Look, here comes
the blushing bride and groom.” She grinned with a heart
swelling with joy and love for
their sister.
“Who would ever guess Nora would get hitched to Lewis
Miller? Surely, not me.”
Beth’s words were a very audible whisper. “I thought she’d
end up with that wily fox
Elam Detweiler.”
Rachel shifted her weight to her other foot, which she then
placed directly atop
Beth’s. No other admonishment proved necessary.
Nora and Lewis approached with glowing faces that only a
wedding day can
inspire. “Well, my dear schwestern, did you enjoy
yourselves at our wedding?” Nora
wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders, drawing them
close.
The three-way hug brought a rush of moisture to Rachel’s
eyes. “Truly, I did. I’ve never seen you looking so
pretty...or so happy.” Tears cascaded down her
cheeks with the realization the four King siblings would not
only be in four different
districts, but different states as well. A couple years ago,
they were like any other Old
Order Amish girls living with their parents with their
grandparents next door. They
dreamed of a future around the corner, married to boys
they’d known their entire lives.
But a house fire during the dead-of-night changed
everything. It took their parents to the
Lord and her two older sisters to where their hearts led
them. Amy, the eldest, settled in
Harmony, Maine, where her fiancé’s brothers lived. Nora,
however, didn’t find the ultra-
conservative district to her liking. So when the handsome,
fence-sitting Elam Detweiler,
Amy’s new brother-in-law, took off with his secret driver’s
license and his secondhand
red Chevy, Nora followed soon after. New beginnings are
often hard to predict. Not long
after moving to Missouri, Nora’s independent streak began to
fade. And for the first
time she longed to fit in, to be part of a loving supportive
community. If Nora’s facial
expression can be trusted, she had found what she was
looking for in a town called
Paradise.
A frisson of anxiety spiked up Rachel’s spine. Was she
making a big mistake?
Would she cause her grossmammi grief and worry for
nothing? Shaking off the notion,
she joined Beth in cleaning up after the wedding meal while
the happy couple walked
guests to their buggies, expressing gratitude for the gifts
and good wishes, thanking
them for sharing in their most special day.
Later that evening, while fireflies lit up the backyard with
a thousand twinkling
lights, Rachel sat on the Gingerich porch. Sleep wouldn’t
come—that much she knew.
But she didn’t wish to pace the bedroom floor and keep Beth
or her gracious hosts
awake. She tried to pray, but the only words that came to
mind were the rote prayers
learned as a child. After several “Our Fathers” she clenched
her eyes tightly shut.
“Please, Lord, grant my sister a long life with many
kinner and much joy.” Unbidden
tears started anew. Her emotions seemed to be a roiling
kettle of soup, rattling the lid,
threatening to overflow.
“Why are you out here crying?” Nora pulled her kapp
ribbon before slipping into
the rocker next to hers.
“A better question would be what are you doing out here on
your wedding night?”
Rachel wiped her face and arched an eyebrow. “Don’t you and
Lewis have some
business to attend to?”
A pretty blush rose up Nora’s neck. “Don’t speak of things
you know nothing
about.” She pinched Rachel’s arm. “Besides, I’ll join him in
a little while. We’re both too
nervous to sleep much tonight. Tomorrow we move to our new
home. It’s not much, but
it’s ours.” She rocked with the satisfied assurance of a
woman with her life laid out like a
well-organized quilt.
Rachel knew no contentment. Her future looked like an early
spring sky—patchy
clouds, intermittent rays of sunshine, with the smell of a
coming storm. “I wish Beth and
I could stay longer to help you pack.”
“Worry not. My friend Violet Trask has arranged everything
for our move and
hers, before she and Seth leave on their wedding trip to see
the Gulf of Mexico. Violet
might not be able to run but she still maneuvers at the
speed of light. She absolutely
refused to use her crutches at her marriage ceremony. Her
poor daed kept hovering like
she might fall over.”
Creak, creak, creak. For several moments, the only sound came
from the rolling wooden slats on the porch boards. Then in a
hushed tone, Nora asked,
“Care to tell me what’s troubling you? And don’t say
‘nothing.’ You’ve been weepy-
eyed all day. That isn’t like you, Rachel King. You know
we’ll take a wedding trip in
November, after the harvest is in. We’ll visit Amy and John
in Harmony and then come
to Lancaster County to see you, Beth and grossmammi.”
Rachel debated only half a second. There was no point in
withholding the truth
any longer. “When you get to Pennsylvania, you might only
find one sister.” She stared
into total darkness as the moon slipped behind a cloud.
“I’ve decided to take the bus
from St. Louis to Louisville after I put Beth on the train
to Chicago.”
Nora stopped rocking. “Who on earth do you know in Louisville?”
“Not a soul. Once in Louisville I’ll board a bus to
Elizabethtown. Then I’ll arrange
for a hired van to take me to Charm.”
“You’re planning to visit Cousin Sarah? But you hate chickens.”
Rachel laughed. “I do not hate chickens as long as they’re
in a pot with celery,
onions and dumplings.” They shared a chuckle. “The fact that
Sarah and her husband
operate a free range chicken farm doesn’t deter me. Kentucky
is known for only one
thing and it isn’t Rhode Island Reds. The Blue Grass state
raises the prettiest horses in
the world.”
“Prettier than Old Smokey after you braided his mane and
tail with ribbons?”
A pang of nostalgia filled her heart. Old Smokey was her
father’s favorite Belgian
draft horse, now relegated to light work with
grossdawdi in his twilight years. “Jah, even
prettier than him if magazines and library books can be
trusted.”
“If you’ve decided on visiting Sarah on your way home, why
not take Beth?”
A long minute spun out in the humid evening air while Rachel
chose her reply
carefully. In the end she chose the short, honest answer.
“Because if I find living on a
chicken farm tolerable I intend to stay permanently.”
“Whatever for? I know you love horses and have read more
about them than any
Amish person in the country. But horses are big business in
Kentucky. What would a
Plain gal who’s never held a paying job in her life do there?”
Somewhere a faraway train blew its whistle while a
neighbor’s dog howled,
maybe at a critter creeping through the yard. “I haven’t the
slightest idea. All I know is
Lancaster County is a lonely place since mamm and
daed died. I love our grandparents
and I’ll miss little Beth something fierce, but I can’t see
myself sticking around anymore
than Amy...or you could. Too many sad memories.” A lump the
size of a rock rose up
her throat, threatening her composure.
“Me of all people cannot find fault with your plan, but I
hate the idea of us spread
across the eastern United States.”
“Missouri is certainly not the East. Have you checked a map
lately?”
“Truly, it is not,” agreed Nora with a laugh. She flicked
away a mosquito.
For several moments, they rocked and listened to tree frogs
and crickets fill the
air with a late summer serenade. Each of their hearts grew
heavier as the irrevocable
future closed around them like heavy fog. “No matter where I
end up, you will always be
my schwester,” murmured Rachel.
“And I, yours.” Nora clasped her hand in the shadows as they
savored memories
of their shared childhood. Impulsively Nora leaned over and
kissed her cheek. “Gut
nacht, Rachel. I believe I’ve kept my new ehemann
waiting long enough.” After a
nervous giggle, she fled inside the house, leaving Rachel
alone with her thoughts and
fears for the future. When she fell asleep that night,
frolicking colts, majestic stallions
and gentle mares filled her dreams, giving her the best
sleep she’d had in weeks.
The next day, Rachel and Beth accepted tearful hugs and a
packed lunch
that would feed far more than two, and climbed into the back
of a hired car bound for
downtown Columbia. After paying their driver, they boarded
the bus to St. Louis—a
frightening city in terms of the amount of fast-moving
traffic. Rachel waited almost until
the bus pulled into the terminal to drop her bombshell of news.
“What do you mean you’re only buying one train ticket to
Chicago?” demanded
Beth. “How do you intend to get home?”
“After I put you on the correct train, I’ll take a cab back
to the Greyhound station.
I’m traveling by bus to Louisville.” Patiently she spelled
out the sketchy details as she’d
done the night before to Nora.
Beth listened to the explanation without interruption and
then wailed, “Fine and
dandy, but why can’t I go too? I’ve never been to Kentucky
either.”
“Because if all goes well and if cousins Sarah and Isaac
allow it, I will stay and
work. You’re too young to move away from grossmammi
and Aunt Irene yet.”
“Will you court boys there?” Beth turned toward her on the seat.
The unexpected question caught Rachel by surprise. “I’m not
thinking about
courting now. I just want to find a job.”
“But you’re already twenty.” Beth sounded aghast.
“That’s not that old in this day-and-age. People are waiting
longer to marry.”
“Why can’t I come with you? If you decide to stay longer
than a visit, you could
put me on a bus home then.”
Finally, the question she had dreaded. “Please don’t be
hurt, but I truly wish to
try this out by myself.” With a shaky hand, she pulled a
printed sheet from her purse. “I
wrote out directions on how to change trains in Chicago to
catch the Capitol Limited to
Pittsburgh and then the Pennsylvanian on to Harrisburg.
There you’ll catch the bus to
Mount Joy. It’s all spelled out very carefully. It’s exactly
what we did on the way here in
reverse.”
Beth shrugged. “Grossmammi is going to be miffed,
even more so than she was
about us attending the wedding unchaperoned.” She shivered,
as though picturing their
grandmother’s seldom displayed temper.
“True enough. That’s why I wrote her a long letter to
explain as best as I could.”
Rachel withdrew a sealed envelope from her purse. “Would you
give her this when you
get home?”
Beth stared at the white envelope and nodded. “Jah, I
suppose. But maybe I’ll
just lay it on the kitchen table and hide in the barn until
the steam clears. What about
Amy up in Maine?”
Rachel patted her bag. “I wrote her a letter too. I’ll post
it the first chance I get. I
told Nora last night after the wedding. She seemed to
understand.”
Beth lifted and dropped her thin shoulders. “Then it’s all
decided.”
Her plaintive words of resignation cut Rachel like a blade.
She wrapped her
arms around her, enfolding Beth in a hug. “You can come
visit me some time, once I’m
settled. And I promise to come home to Mount Joy too. We’ll
always be sisters. Never
forget that.” The rocking bus, the chatter from other
travelers, the scenery passing at
breakneck speed, all faded away. Rachel was only aware of
the skinny fourteen-year-
old she held in her arms and how much she would miss her.
“St. Louis,” the bus driver barked into the loud speaker.
Everyone jumped up to pull luggage from overhead bins and
collect belongings
from the seat and floor. Rachel felt Beth shrink by her
side. “Don’t be frightened. You’re
a smart girl. You have your directions, plenty of food and
money in your purse. Just
remember what mamm used to say: You’re never alone in
life. God is always with you.
So close your eyes and let Him fill your heart.”
Whether her words did any good, Rachel would never know.
Beth was quiet
during their walk to the train station and said little as
they sat eating sandwiches and
fruit, waiting for the next train to Chicago—the hub of the
Midwest.
Feeling as low as a crawfish on a river bottom, Rachel
walked her sister to the
turnstiles. She handed her the tote bag of sandwiches and
snacks. “Don’t lose your
ticket. And don’t be afraid to ask questions of kind-looking
ladies.”
“Promise me you’ll write.” Beth’s green eyes were round as
silver dollars and just
as shiny.
“Twice a week, every week. Plus Sarah has a phone in her
house since she’s
Old Order Mennonite, not Amish. I wrote her number on your
directions. You could
always call from the phone shed if you’re dying to hear my
voice.”
Beth laughed. “Most likely twice-a-week letters will fill my
need for sisterly
companionship. Don’t go too sappy on me.”
True to the youngest sibling’s style, Beth had already
adjusted to the change,
disappointment rolling off her back like rain on a duck. So
Rachel was able to watch her
board the train for home without melting into a puddle of
sorrow and indecision. Home—
Mount Joy, Pennsylvania—didn’t feel much like home since
she’d spotted flames
leaping high into the starry sky and smelled the acrid
smoke, which had filled her lungs
and then her soul. That night, she dozed fitfully in the
train station’s lounge, per the
advice of Jonas Gingerich. There would be more people
milling about than in the bus
station, where she returned at first light. She washed her
face and hands and brushed
her teeth in the rest room. She bought a bagel and cream
cheese and pint of cold milk.
By the time Rachel boarded the bus to Louisville, excitement
had built in her
blood like an herbalist’s tonic. She couldn’t keep from
grinning as they crossed first
into Illinois, then Indiana and finally into Kentucky. Even
the air smelled differently, or
perhaps it was the bus’ air freshener. But Rachel King was
ready to make her own new
beginning.
She arrived in Elizabethtown by late afternoon and called
the number provided
by her cousin Sarah. A hired driver, a sweet woman named
Michelle, picked her up
within two hours and drove through Charm before arriving at
the Stoll’s farm. A historic
courthouse with clock tower soaring into the clouds
dominated the town square. Stately
elms and oaks spread their limbs far and wide, shading the
stone walkways and park
benches where elderly men reminisced and young mothers
pushed baby strollers.
There was a second new courthouse, too, along with the
Sheriff’s Department, café,
furniture shop, post office, pizza shop and an ice cream
parlor. What more did a body
need? Two white church steeples loomed above the housetops.
Rachel wished she
could take a photograph to send to Beth, but of course,
she’d never used or owned a
camera in her life.
Charm—the name said it all. And Rachel was so eager for a
fresh start she
almost broke into song.
************
Jake climbed up on his favorite gelding and spent the early
morning riding
the fence line—his favorite chore. But any time spent in the
saddle wasn’t a chore to
him. He loved to ride, enjoying his solitary time away from
siblings while checking the
boundaries of their twelve hundred-fifty acre horse farm. Up
and down the hills and
valleys he rode, while the sun warmed his back and a sweet
breeze cooled his skin.
Acre upon acre of thick grass rolled for as far as the eye
could see. Green grass—
not blue, no matter how he squinted or gazed sideways. He
wondered if the large
thoroughbred operations around Lexington and Louisville used
certain fertilizers or
maybe bought special sunglasses at the mall. Because
regardless of the season, the
pastures at Twelve Elms Stables were the same green as those
in Indiana or Ohio.
No matter. Grass color wouldn’t make an ounce of difference
considering the
yearling his family now owned. That colt showed more spirit
and heart than any horse
he’d ever bred and raised. With the right trainer, Twelve
Elms could have a contender.
In another year, they could race him at Keeneland in a
stakes race for two-year-olds.
It would begin the grand march leading up to the Kentucky
Derby on the first Saturday
in May—every May since 1875. Jake felt a jolt of electricity
in his belly each time they
watched the race on TV. Lately, he’d been going to the Derby
and camping out in the
infield with his friends. Sitting in lawn chairs they would
study racing forms and stats for
hours to pick their personal favorites. His dad, a devout
Baptist, frowned on gambling,
but every now and then Jake placed a two-dollar bet to win.
Always to win, never to
place or show. Second or third place wasn’t good enough.
Folks only remembered the
names of winners. With Eager-to-Please, they would have
their chance to make history.
And with what they had to pay in stud fees to sire the colt,
it would be the only chance
they would ever get.
Jake showered in the bath off the utility room and strolled
into the kitchen,
whistling, with a ferocious appetite. He was also dying for
a second cup of coffee. Ken
Brady sat at the kitchen table, hunched over his ledgers.
“How’s it going, dad?” He
made a beeline to the coffeemaker.
“Morning, son. All fencing secure?”
“Right as rain.” He added two sugars and a bit of milk and
then settled across the
table. Twelve Elms had miles of fences, split rail along the
roadways—pleasant to look
at but hard to maintain—and solar-powered battery-fed
electric wire everywhere else.
“Your mom left sausage gravy and pan of biscuits before she
left for work. Just
needs to be heated.”
Jake scrambled up to light the burner under the skillet and
pulled the pan of
buttermilk biscuits from the oven. “Aren’t you eating?” he
asked, biting into one flakey,
crisp piece of heaven.
“Not much appetite today.” His father pushed his reading
glasses up the bridge of
his nose, but his focus remained on the ledgers.
Jake noticed dark circles beneath his eyes and a neat row of
furrows across his
forehead. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
“Business as usual.” Ken met Jakes gaze over his coffee cup.
“The Harts and the
Lanskys won’t be boarding their horses here after the first
of the month. Mr. Lansky got
transferred to California, so the family will be moving. And
Nick Hart lost his job at the
lumberyard. They’ve already been having trouble paying their
bills since his wife took
sick. Now they’ve decided to sell their daughter’s
Saddlebred and stop her lessons.”
“Little Maddy will throw a fit. That child is used to
getting her own way.” Jake
made polite conversation while devouring his favorite meal
of the day—breakfast.
“English saddle and dressage are luxuries families can’t
afford on unemployment
compensation. Little Maddy will have to get over it.” Ken
gazed out the kitchen window
where hired help were cutting a field of oats to be ground
into winter horse feed. His
blue eyes looked even paler than usual, as though worry had
bleached the color right
out of them. His father was ageing before his time.
“People move away and new folks come to take their place.
Little girls will always
love horses and talk their dads into lessons and then a
horse of their own.” Jake tipped
up his mug to drain the last drop of coffee.
Ken walked to the stove for a refill. “Yeah, but all that
costs money. Trouble is
when a factory closes its doors in Casey County and lays off
workers no other business
opens up to take its place. Without jobs people don’t move
here. And without our
boarding, riding lessons and trail ride income, we’ll be
forced to cut our own staff.”
Jake swallowed down a sour taste in his mouth. Why did his
dad always have
to look on the negative side of everything? You didn't see
those big-time owners and
trainers creeping around the horse auctions with hang-dog
expressions. They held their
heads high, walked with confidence and left the
bean-counting to their accountants.
They’d learned the cardinal rule—success breeds success. If
you acted like a winner
and had faith in what you were doing, you had a chance at
the garland of roses. But
if you fretted and moaned and dealt with your peers like a
scared rabbit, the outcome
was a foregone conclusion. “Like the preacher tells us every
Sunday morning, you gotta
have faith, Dad.”
Ken turned his watery blue gaze on Jake “My faith in the
Lord never wavers. I’m
just not so sure about our recent business decision.” He
took one cold biscuit from the
pan and slathered on some soft butter. “We paid a king’s
ransom to have Pretty-in-Pink
bred with Man-of-his-Word. We’re very lucky that the
insemination took hold. That kind
of money and no guarantees.” Ken clucked his tongue.
“The best things in life seldom come with one.” Jake mopped
up the last of the
sausage gravy with his third biscuit. “But now that we’ve
got Eager-to-Please, it’s time to
step up to the plate.”
Ken scraped the pan onto a small plate. “I’m not sure I
understand your baseball
analogy, son.”
Jake sucked in a deep breath. “That colt is strong with more
spirit that any horse
in the stable. He practically eats his body weight every day
and grows stronger by the
week. But I’m no skilled horse trainer, Dad. I know my
limits. Bloodlines like that colt’s
deserve a professional trainer that can take Eager-to-Please
all the way to the top in
two years.”
“Did you drink some bad apple cider? Big buck horsemen work
out of Louisville
and Lexington for a very good reason. Those owners have
check book balances in
the six-figures. In case you haven’t noticed, we give tours
to busloads of senior citizen
groups to generate income, and your mom has signed up to
work weekends for the
extra pay.” Ken ate his gravy with a spoon, laughing, as
though Jake had told a good
joke. “You’re a fine trainer, don’t sell yourself short.
Maybe one of those big names has
written a book filled with pointers. But you’d better check
the book out at the library
instead of buying it at Barnes and Noble. Our checkbook
balance is barely three
figures.” He rinsed his cup and plate and placed them in the
dishwasher. “I’ll be on the
computer in my office if you need me.” Ken shuffled toward
the door.
Jake bit back his comment and rose to his feet. Losing his
temper with his mild
mannered father had never gotten him anywhere in the past
and wouldn’t help now. He
grabbed his hat from the rack and went in search of his
sister. If he couldn’t win Jessie
to his side, he didn’t stand a chance. And Eager-to-Please
would never win anything
better than Best in Show at the Casey County Fair.
**********
“Let me get this straight. You want Mom and Dad to take out
a second mortgage
on this farm to hire somebody to do your job?” His
twenty-year-old sister, the second
oldest sibling, stood in a horse stall in knee high rubber
boots with shovel in hand, and a
suspicious looking smear on her cheek.
Jake thought it wise to grab another shovel and start
filling the cart with soiled
wood shavings as well. “Let’s call it a business loan, not a
mortgage. Only a pro-trainer
will know the ins-and-outs of the national racing circuit.
He’ll know which races are
mandatory for a two-year-old to enter and how to get our
colt ready to compete.” Jake
kept shoveling while he talked, not daring to meet Jessie’s
eye. “We don’t have to
hire a top level trainer, but it takes money to make money.
Cinderella didn’t go to the
ball wearing her homespun sackcloth. She was dressed and
ready to take her shot at
winning the prince.” He grinned, pleased that he alluded to
his sister’s fondness for fairy
tales. When he glanced over, Jessie was leaning on her
shovel, smirking.
“Nice try, but Cinderella had a fairy godmother with one of
those handy wands.
I leave for college on Sunday. I’ll come home on weekends to
give tours if the demand
remains high, but I really don’t want to.” Her smile faded.
“Competition is tough to get
into Vet School. I need to maintain my grade point average.
I hate leaving campus
every weekend.”
Jake’s stomach wrenched with guilt and disappointment. “Am I
the only one who
wants this? I thought we were in agreement when we had
Pretty-in-Pink bred with a sire
with champion bloodlines.”
Jessie softened. “We are in agreement, big brother. I would
love to go to the
Derby as an owner. I would even go out and buy one of those
fancy hats. But there’s
a limit to what this family can do, especially with me in
college. Payments have to be
made on that second mortgage. We can’t tell the bank to
patiently wait to see if the colt
finishes in the money. I wish Keeley was old enough to take
over the tours but she still
can't remember the details. Who wants to listen to a guide
who says “and-stuff-like-that”
every other sentence?” She swiped at her forehead with the
back of her hand.
Jake shifted his body weight. “If I have to take a night job
away for the farm to
help pay training expenses, I will. This is Twelve Elms only
shot.” He resumed mucking
out the stall with renewed energy. “Please take my side
during the next family business
meeting. Otherwise I’ll be outvoted.”
Jessie sighed. “All right, Jake. I’ll vote with you but
you’d better come up with a
plan that doesn’t involve finding a magic wand in the oat bin.”
“I plan to say plenty of prayers between now and the meeting.”
“You down on your knees in prayer?” She raised a skeptical brow.
“As you can see, I’m desperate.”
She smiled with tenderness. “He hears the pleas of the
desperate. Hopefully,
He’ll also like our motives as well.” Jessie picked up the
handles of the garden cart and
wheeled it toward the door.
Jake was left wondering if God cared one iota about the
outcome of a horse race.
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