Shay Brandenberger has built her entire life on the shifting sands of what others think. Constantly seeking the approval of others, she has struggled through a rocky childhood, a failed marriage and single parenthood. Now it looks like she’s losing the ranch that has been in her family for three generations, a surefire way to mark her as a failure in the eyes of the community. When Travis McCoy, the high school sweetheart who very publicly broke her heart fifteen years before, returns to Moose Creek, she is less than pleased. Not only does his re-appearance dredge up a deluge of painful memories, it also reminds everyone in town that it was he who left her, not the other way around. To make matters worse, Shay and Travis are unwittingly paired to play bride and groom in the annual Founder’s Day wedding re-enactment where, much to her chagrin, she discovers he still has the power to take her breath away.
Paperback: 304 pages
- Publisher: Thomas Nelson (January 3, 2012)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 1595548025
- ISBN-13: 978-1595548023
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR…Denise lives in Indiana with her husband Kevin and their three sons. In 1996, Denise began her first book, a Christian romance novel, writing while her children napped. Two years later it was published, and she’s been writing ever since. Her books often contain a strong romantic element, and her husband Kevin says he provides all her romantic material, but Denise insists a good imagination helps too!
Visit the author’s website.
FROM THE BOOK FAERY REVIEWS…Review to come soon. Will update post within the next week or so.
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
The bell above the diner’s door jingledand—despite her most valiant effort—Shay Brandenberger’s eyes darted toward theentry. An unfamiliar couple entered—tourists. She could tell by their khakiEddie Bauer vests and spanking-new hiking boots. Look out, Yellowstone.
When her heart rate returned to normal,she checked her watch and took a sip of coffee. Five minutes till she met MissLucy at the Doll House, forty till she met John Oakley at the bank. What if hesaid no? What would they do then?
“Mom . . . Earth to Mom . . .” Oliviawaved her hand too close to Shay’s face, her brown eyes widening.
“Sorry, hon.” The one bright moment ofher Saturday was breakfast with her daughter, and she couldn’t enjoy it for thedread. “What were you saying?”
Olivia set her fork on herpancake-sticky plate and heaved a sigh worthy of her twelve-year-old self.“Never mind.” She bounced across the vinyl bench, her thick brown ponytailswinging. “I’m going to meet Maddy.”
“Right back here at noon,” Shay called,but Olivia was out the door with the flick of her hand.
The diner buzzed with idle chatter.Silverware clattered and scraped, and the savory smell of bacon and fried eggsunsettled her stomach. She took a sip of the strong brew from the fat rim ofher mug.
The bell jingled again. I will not look. I willnot look. I will not—
The server appeared at her booth, a newgirl, and gathered Olivia’s dishes. “On the house today.”
Shay set down her mug, bristling. “Why?”
The woman shrugged. “Boss’s orders,” shesaid, then made off with the dirty dishes.
From the rectangular kitchen window,Mabel Franklin gave Shay a pointed look.
So Shay had helped the couple with theirfoal the week before. It was the neighborly thing to do.
Fine. She gave a reluctant smile and awave. She pulled her wallet from her purse, counted out the tip, and draggedherself from the booth, remembering her daughter’s bouncy exit. Lately herthirty-two years pressed down on her body like a two-ton boulder.
She opened the diner’s door and peekedboth ways before exiting the Tin Roof and turning toward the Doll House. Shewas only checking sidewalk traffic, not hiding. Nope, she wasn’t hiding fromanyone. The boardwalks were busy on Saturdays. That was why she hadn’t come totown for two weeks. Why their pantry was emptier than a water trough at highnoon.
She hurried three shops down and slippedinto the cool, welcoming air of Miss Lucy’s shop.
“ ’Morning, Miss Lucy.”
“ ’Morning, dear.” The elderly woman, inthe middle of helping a customer, called over her rounded shoulder, “It’s inthe back.” Miss Lucy’s brown eyes were big as buckeyes behind her thickglasses, and her white curls glowed under the spotlights.
“Okeydoke.” Shay forced her feet towardthe storeroom.
A musty smell assaulted her as sheentered the back room and flipped on the overhead fluorescents. She scanned theboxes of doll parts and skeins of yarn until she found what she was lookingfor. She approached the box, lifted the lid, and parted the tissue.
The wedding gown had been carefullyfolded and tucked away. Shay ran her fingers over the delicate lace and pearls.Must’ve been crisp white in its day, but time had cast a long shadow over it.Time had a way of doing that.
Her fingers lingered on the thin fabric.She remembered another time, another dress. A simple white one that hung on heryoung shoulders, just skimmed the cement of the courthouse steps. The ache thatsqueezed her heart had faded with time, but it was there all the same. Would itever go away?
Shaking her head, Shay turned back tothe task at hand. The gown seemed too pretty, too fragile to disturb.
Oh well. She’d promised.
She pulled it out and draped it over thebox, then shimmied from her jeans. When she was down to the bare necessities,she stepped carefully into the gown. She eased it over her narrow hips and slidher arms into the long sleeves. The neckline was modest, the gathered skirtfuller than anything she ever wore. Here in the air-conditioning it was fine,but she would swelter next Saturday.
Leaving the button-up back gaping, shehitched the skirt to the top of her cowboy boots and entered the store.
Miss Lucy was ushering the customer outthe door. When she turned, she stopped, her old-lady shoes squeaking on thelinoleum. “Land sakes.”
Shay took two steps forward and droppedthe skirt. It fell to the floor with a whoosh.
“Fits like a glove,” Miss Lucy said.“And with some low heels it’ll be the perfect length.”
Shay didn’t even own heels. “My boots’llhave to do. Button the back?”
Miss Lucy waddled forward, turned Shaytoward a small wall mirror flecked with time, and began working the tiny pearlbuttons.
Shay’s breath caught at her image. Sheforced its release, then frowned. Wedding gowns were bad luck. She’d swornshe’d never wear another. If someone had told her yesterday she’d be wearingthis thing today, she’d have said they were one straw short of a bale.
Miss Lucy moved up to the buttonsbetween her shoulders, and Shay lifted her hair. The dress did fit, clinging toher torso like it was made for her, wouldn’t you know. Even the colorcomplemented her olive skin.
Still, there was that whole bad luckthing.
And what would everyone think of ShayBrandenberger wearing this valuable piece of Moose Creek heritage? A whitewedding gown, no less. If she didn’t have the approval of her closest friendsand neighbors, what did she have? Not much, to her thinking.
She wanted to cut and run. Wanted toshimmy right out of the dress, tuck it into that box in the storeroom, slipback into her Levi’s and plaid button-up, and go back to her ranch where shecould hole up for the next six months.
She checked the time and wished MissLucy had nimbler fingers. Of all days to do this, a Saturday, when everyonewith two legs was in town. And she still had that infernal meeting with JohnOakley.
Please, God, I can’t lose our home . . .
“I’m obliged to you, dear. I completelyforgot Jessie was going out of town.”
“No problem.”
“Baloney. You’d rather be knee-deep incow dung.” The woman’s marionette lines at the sides of her mouth deepened.
“It’s one hour of my life.” A pittance,after all Miss Lucy had done for her.
Miss Lucy finished buttoning, and Shaydropped her hair and smoothed the delicate lace at the cuffs.
“Well, bless you for being willing. Godis smiling down on you today for your kindness.”
Shay doubted God really cared one way oranother. It was her neighbors she worried about.
“Beautiful, just beautiful. You’ll bethe talk of the town on Founders Day.”
“No doubt.” Everyone in Moose Creekwould be thinking about the last time she’d worn a wedding gown. And the timebefore that.
Especially the time before that.
Third time’s a charm, Shay thought, the corner of her lipturning up.
“Stop fretting,” Miss Lucy said,squeezing her shoulders. “You look quite fetching, like the gown was made foryou. I won’t have to make a single alteration. Why, it fits you better than itever did Jessie—don’t you tell her I said so.”
Shay tilted her head. Maybe Miss Lucywas right. The dress did make the most of her figure. And she had as much rightto wear it as anyone. Maybe more—she was born and raised here, after all. Itwas just a silly old reenactment anyway. No one cared who the bride and groomwere.
The bell jingled as the door openedbehind her. She glanced in the mirror, over her shoulder, where a hulkingsilhouette filled the shop’s doorway. There was something familiar in the setof the man’s broad shoulders, in the slow way he reached up and removed hishat.
The sight of him constricted her ribcage, squeezed the air from her lungs as if she were wearing a corset. But shewasn’t wearing a corset. She was wearing a wedding gown. Just as she had beenthe last time she’d set eyes on Travis McCoy.
***Special thanks to Audra Jennings – The B&B Media Group – for sending me a review copy.***
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