My Iowa Miss Marple

In 2000, I wasn't thinking about writing a cozy, humorous mystery series. At the time, I was reading Agatha Christie's Miss Marple books and had seen a few old Miss Marple movies on television. So in this post I want to explain how the idea came to me to write about my Iowa Miss Marple.

I worked at the local nursing home as a CNA, taking care of residents who were about my parents age. While I helped the residents I talked to them about their past and enjoyed hearing their stories which were in many ways similar to my parents tales of the past decades. Some of the residents had characteristics that made them stand out. Their mannerisms would be easy to describe, the way they spoke and phrases they used while telling me stories. Since I loved mysteries it occurred to me, in one resident, I'd found a Miss Marple of sorts. She wasn't the soft spoken, genteel English woman in Agate Christie's books. Quite the opposite, but I, like the people in my books who had their doubts about being able to get along with Gracie Evans, grew to like her. My Gracie was outspoken to the point of being rude. She was brashly independent. Manners didn't have a place in her life then and never had before. She had been too busy trying to survive.

It wasn't long after my Gracie arrived at the nursing home that I realized she put up a good front to back people off. She didn't have visitors except for nieces and nephews that rarely came, and was a loner that preferred to stay in her room. Living alone the better part of her life without companionship was all she knew, and she'd tried to make us believe that she liked it that way. It occurred to me that the end of her life should be better than the rest of it had been. I wished to see her smile instead of barking at everyone. So I came up with ways over the few years she was with us to make her days easier. I encouraged her to tell me about her life. Upper most was her love of animals. I identified with that as I always have a sheep or goat story to tell. Each spring I bring my babies to the nursing home and visit from room to room. One time I took her picture bottle feeding my lamb. The look on her face was ecstatic as memories came back of calves she'd saved. So I entered the nursing home's Iowa Heath Care Association's essay contest with "A Woman For All Seasons" and entered the photo contest with "A Bottle Full Of Memories".

The contests were state wide for every nursing home in the association, and I've never considered myself lucky. What I did was give my Gracie something to think about. Every time I worked, she'd ask if I'd heard from the contests. Several months later, the second shift nurse took the call from IHCA. She hunted me up to tell me I'd won the contest. That was vague. I said, "Which one? Essay or photo?" The nurse just looked at me with a silly grin. I asked weakly, "Was it both?" Yes, I had won both. What excitement that created. A reception with the head of the Association present. I insisted for once my Gracie come out of her room since she was really the guest of honor. She did for me what she might not have for anyone else. She came to the reception. I gave her a big bouquet of flowers I'd raised, because I was pretty sure the flower shop variety wouldn't impress her. She seemed more tickled with the flowers than she did being the center of attention. Pictures were taken by a newspaper and the nursing home to display on the bulletin board. My essay was going to be in local papers. At the end of the reception, she asked me what time it was. When I said after eleven, she yelled that she was missing The Young And The Restless. She had to get to her room. On the way, I asked if she wasn't at least a little impressed by the newspaper stories. She replied, as if it was no big deal, that she'd been in the newspapers before. To prove it, she made me hunt up a box of mementos in the top of her closet. Sure enough years before a Des Moines Register reporter had interviewed her at her home about her pioneer lifestyle. Okay so she wasn't impressed, but I was just getting started. I'd picked up on her appreciation of country flowers. Until she passed away, in the seasons I had flowers, I kept a fresh bouquet in her room.

There were so many holidays she must have missed out when she was alone. Perhaps, she considered the holidays just another day and didn't mind but I minded. One of the relatives brought her candy. She wasn't used to eating candy so she stored the sacks in her closet. Food couldn't stay there very long. It was Halloween. Kids in costumes come to the nursing home that evening to trick or treat for the residents in the living room. The nurse gives out the candy. I asked my Gracie if we could use her candy for the kids if they came to her room. At first, she begrudgingly said they could only have one piece each. I set the bowls of candy on her bedside table near her. I must admit I was nervous. She just might give the kids a scary Halloween. She'd expressed once that she didn't have much use for children. Of course, that feeling came from trying to teach some very unruly boys in a one room school house when she was a young girl. The children came, and I took them to her room. They did the usual trick or treat. She checked out their costumes and said gruffly but softly, "There's the candy. Take all you want." Hooray! I had given her an evening to remember.

Christmas was next. The employees draw resident names and give them a small gift at breakfast so no one is left out. I wanted my Gracie to have an extra special gift from me. I make last name doilies all the time so I crocheted her a doily with her first name on it and wrapped it so the gift would feel like Christmas. Immediately, she had me hang it on the wall over her bed.

For Easter I gave her a music box that played "You Light Up My Life" with a revolving angel on it. I asked the other aides to wind the box at bed time. She often had trouble going to sleep. Maybe the music would be soothing, and the slowly revolving angel would help her doze off. It did for as long as the box lasted. One night, the spring in the box exploded. The angel literally flew straight up from the box and did a nose dive on the floor. The aide helping her came to tell me. I asked if she was upset. The aide said he had never seen her laugh and this once she laughed so hard she had tears rolling down her cheeks. The angel had a broken wing. The aide repaired it and replaced it on the box. The music was gone for good but she still had her angel and the memory of a sight she found so very funny. From that night came a short story I entered in a contest and was awarded fifth place - "The Angel That Flew".

Her birthday was in March. I doubt anyone had made anything special out of the day ever. So I threw her a birthday she wouldn't forget. I baked a cake, decorated it and placed it on a small table in her room with paper saucers and plastic forks. I penned a banner on the tablecloth with Happy Birthday on it. Around the nursing home and on her door, I posted flyers that cordially invited everyone to stop by her room, wish her a happy birthday and enjoy her cake. By now it was a treat for her to have the attention and a good snack for break times for us.

I broke the news to her one day that I was going to write a book and use her for my main character if she didn't mind, but I'd change her name to Gracie Evans. She perked up and had all kinds of questions. Was it going to be paperback? What kind of story was it? When would the book be finished? I didn't get the book done until after she passed away. I'd have liked her to see the book and hold it, but I tell myself she wouldn't have been as impressed with the story as she was with the idea that I thought she was good writing material. I just published the sixth book in my Amazing Gracie Mysteries series. When I'm writing a story all I have to do is think about my Gracie and what she would do or say next. Makes writing the books a fun experience for me.

So this post is an introduction to my Miss Marple in Iowa and how I came to know her so well. Before long, I'll post about how I came up with Gracie's friend in my stories. She was the total opposite of Gracie in real life just as my fictitious Melinda Applegate is in my books. Next week I'm going to post my Gracie's essay "A Woman For All Seasons".

Did I treat all the residents I took care of the same way in almost sixteen years I worked at the nursing home? I couldn't have treated the job as just a job. To enjoy what I did, I put the effort in where it was needed and felt gratified by the way their eyes lit up when they saw me coming. They knew I wouldn't just help them. I'd listen to their stories when they wanted to reminisce and their complaints. The lucky ones had relatives that came often and saw to their needs. My friendliness and help was all that was required. For others, I became the friend they needed. After two and a half years of retirement, I still visit the residents that know me at least once a month. Now I can take my time and really visit with them. I don't have to go answer a call light.

First Chapter Amish book - Christmas Traditions by Fay Risner

In my blogs at www.booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com and booksbyfay.com.blogspot.com/ you will find the complete first chapter of my first Amish book titled Christmas Traditions. I write about what I like to read, but up to that point I had been writing stories in the mystery and western genre. One Christmas I was looking at the picture on a card and wondered what the story was behind a English dressed couple in a sleigh. They stopped in front of a large white farm house which reminded me of the ones on Amish farms. So from that card I came up with my story.

I never dreamed I'd be writing more Amish books, but when this book sold in Amazon, readers asked for a sequel to continue the story. Instead, I started the Nurse Hal Among The Amish series and found there were many readers interested in Amish stories. It seemed that this was my niche to target with books. I write other stories as well. With all the story lines I've stored up I don't think I'll ever get writer's block. Do the other genre sell as well as Amish books? Not quite, but I'm writing what I do for fun and to see just what I can do. How I am able to stay with this project is I found Create Space which belongs to Amazon. The printing by that company is so affordable and made easy to do.

So when the Nurse Hal books took off instead of writing a sequel, I moved Margaret Goodman and her family to Iowa and made them neighbors to Hal Lapp. After all the two of them have much in common since they had been in both the English world and the Amish one. Margaret is able to lend sound advice to Hal to help her in her new Amish life. One reader emailed me that she enjoyed finding Margaret in Hal's story. Her reaction was I know her. She was able to continue to learn about Margaret's life as well as Hal's story.


Chapter 1

That Monday afternoon, Margaret Goodman's destination seemed forever away even though the Yoder farm was only seven miles from Brightwell, Pennsylvania. She was traveling alone so she was thankful for the tranquil, winter conditions. If a snowstorm had threatened before she left town, she wouldn't have been brave enough to make the trip on her own.
Watching the pristine countryside slide by her bright red sleigh helped just a little to soothe her frayed nerves. She slid under the snow laced trees that loomed over the packed road. In the swift breeze, weighed down branches swayed like stick skeletons, dancing a jig which let loose snowy clumps on her. Drifted, white mounds rolled across the pastures, making a colorful contrast with the black and red cattle milling about brown, frazzled hay stacks. Along the way, the recent snowstorm turned homesteads, set against the dark blue sky, into scenes lovely enough to paint on Christmas cards. The Pennsylvania countryside really was beautiful in the winter. Not that Margaret was in any mood to enjoy what she slid by. In her heart, she knew she couldn't appreciate anything around her until she managed to live through this coming week and escape back to Brightwell.
The road was invisible, covered with packed snow rutted with sleigh runners and buggy tracks. If it hadn't been for the rows of snow capped, cedar fence posts on either side of her, she'd have felt like she was on a great adventure, blazing her own trail across the frozen tundra.
She knew all the beauty that surrounded her would have put anyone else in a festive mood for Christmas coming Monday next, but not her. She bounced around somber thoughts about what dreaded incidents could happen from one day to the next in the week ahead of her. When the time came, Margaret planned to muster up the strength to pretend to be joyful. She wouldn't bother to do that until after she stopped the sleigh in front of the Yoder house. Just thinking about it, her mood turned despairing to say the least. She felt unsettled and anxious. The winter scenery couldn't change the turmoil that churned inside her. She wasn't sure anything would. Like bad tasting medicine, she had to accept whatever happened in the next few days and handle each situation the best she could.
The freezing breeze whipped her dark brown, curly hair away from her head, causing a chill to run through her. Margaret felt goose bumps pop up on her legs. She huddled down in the seat, holding the reins in one hand long enough to tug her walnut dyed, wool lap robe up higher. That done, she went back to worrying. She was a day later than usual. Would it matter to any of them at the Yoder farm that she hadn't arrived on Sunday afternoon? Had any of the Yoders worried about why she hadn't shown up yet? When she did arrive, would the fact that she was late make Levi Yoder's opinion of her worse than it already was?
She had to wait until that morning to prepare for the journey. Rushing to gather everything she wanted to take, she packed the sleigh at the last minute in haste. Now way down the road, she had the feeling she might have forgotten something. She did a mental check list. Christmas gifts covered the back seat, a large, wicker basket full of food sat next to her and beside her feet was her clothes stuffed, tan, tapestry valise. She'd hidden Faith's journal under the sleigh seat out of Levi's sight until she could give it to his son, Luke. This year that diary was what she had to remember to pack above all other things. If she forgot anything else she'd meant to bring it was certainly too late now. She would have to make due without whatever it was.
She couldn't help arriving late, and she wasn't about to offer an explanation. Her private life wasn't up for discussion. Nothing she said would do any good anyway as far as Levi Yoder was concerned. She just hoped what plans Levi, his father, Jeremiah, and son, Luke, made to celebrate Christmas, for Luke's sake, didn't include something she would regret missing.
Unlike the hustle and bustle in town, the quiet countryside embraced peacefulness. The only sounds were made by her red sleigh and the four white stocking hooves on her black horse, Pie Face. The runners crunched, slicing through the ice crusted snow. The sleigh bells jingled in time to the horse's steamy, labored snorts and rhythmic tromp as he moved at a fast pace.
In the last mile, Margaret whipped the horse to hurry him to race the sinking sun. The words, Please let me get to the farm before dark, played over and over in her head like an out of tune song. Nightfall was one more reason for her to worry over her late start. She told herself she would feel less anxious when she finally spotted a column of light, gray smoke spiraling up above the Yoder hickory and mulberry grove.
The tree lined lane was just ahead to the right. Margaret pulled back on the reins, bringing Pie Face to a walk. She entered the shaded lane, traveling under the entwined glittery white, soft snow covered branches that made a shaded tunnel. Half way down the lane, a rabbit darted out of his nest in the drifted snow and zigzagged past the horse. Startled, Pie Face shied sideways. Margaret pulled back on the reins and brought the horse to a stop. She could feel her heart racing. She took a deep, calming breath and flicked the reins over Pie Face's back. No time to panic now. She was almost to the house.
Margaret tossed the worry about dark over taking her like so many empty pea pods when she finally came into view of the large, two story, snow capped, farm house, but she still had plenty more worries to take its place. Pulling back on the reins, she stopped the horse by the split rail fence that surrounded the yard.
Luke's brown and white beagle, Moses, bounced off the porch and down the path. He stood on his hind legs and looked in the sleigh while he woofed a high pitched greeting.
"Hello, Moses. How have you been?" Margaret answered back.
"Woof, woof." The beagle wagged his tail with such speed that his chubby backend swayed. Bouncing off the sleigh, he took off in a run. He circled the sleigh while he did a sniffing inspection.
"So you're happy to see me. That's encouraging." Margaret said under her breath. She looked up at the house roof. The stone chimney chugged pale gray, smoke plumbs that floated higher and higher into the sky, turning into hard to see thin wisps. A sudden change in the wind brought a down draft drifting toward her that smelled of hickory wood. Someone had recently stoked the fire.
The two story, farm house, with peeling, white paint and sun bleached wood, had a grossdawdi haus built on the east side. The addition was added for Levi's father, Jeremiah, when Levi married Margaret's sister, Faith. The outhouse, smokehouse, chicken house, and pig pen were ahead of her. The large, red barn complete with granary and root cellar stood off to the left.
Levi Yoder, tall, muscular and handsome, stalked through the deep snow toward her from the woodpile by the barnyard split rail fence. He carried an armload of lengthy fire wood propped on his shoulder. Even though she fought with herself not to feel hopeful, her heart raced faster at the sight of him. As Levi came closer, his rugged features were just like she imagined in her thoughts and dreams over the last year. A lump formed in her throat as she watched the sinking, fiery sun behind his back create rosy streaks in his straw colored hair where it curled on his coat collar.
As Levi walked close enough for Margaret to get a good look at his face, any growing excitement she felt spiraled backward to dread again. It only took a quick glimpse to make her tense up. Any sparse drop of hope she'd had that Levi would welcome her this time faded as fast as the dimming daylight. Any brief thought that the man might be worried because she was a day late, she could discard like dirty wash water out the back door just from watching his foreboding posture as he marched at her. She tried to hold back the mounting anguish that wanted to creep onto her face. She should have known better than to expect any change in that strong willed man. Nothing about him ever changed. She had to face it. He never would change.
At that moment, his piercing eyes and high boned cheeks above his bushy, blonde beard appeared to be chiseled by a stonemason. The scowl on his face, Margaret knew for sure, even if he never said so out loud, had been brought on by her arrival. In all these years, her presence always had the same affect on Levi Yoder. Why did she ever hope that he would change in a year's time? That man ever changing his opinions on anyone or anything was never going to happen.
The wood Levi carried was too long to go into the cookstove. He must be ready to prepare the fireplace in the meeting room. Would it have hurt him to warm the room up before I arrived, ran through Margaret's mind. The meeting room was only used on a Sunday once in a blue moon when it was the Yoders turn to have church. Just for her, the room was opened more days in a row the once a year she visited.
However, she'd arrived a day late. Maybe Levi hoped she wouldn't show up at all. This year of all the years would be the one that he definitely wouldn't want to face her. He probably hoped she'd changed her mind about going through with her plan concerning the journal. In that case, he might have reasoned that she'd decide to skip her appearance at the Yoder farm this year if the journal had been her initial reason for the visit. There would be no need for him to bother going through the chore of opening up the meeting room that he only did begrudgingly for her. Well, Levi was wrong. It made her blood boil to think, in all the years they had known each other, that man never understood her concern had always been for what was best for Luke. Anything she tried to do to improve the situation between Levi and her wasn't enough to make him want to try to get along with her.
Quickly, Margaret glanced around to see if Jeremiah or Luke were coming to greet her. She didn't want to start out this visit with only Levi's cold, reluctant help and snappish greeting. She'd mentally tried to prepare herself for what could happen at the Yoder farm, but Margaret realized while that fair haired man strode toward her, she needed more time to steel herself for the strife to come. Although in the back of her mind, she already knew she had no real way to prepare for the clashes between Levi and herself. Like always, she'd do her best to stand up to the man and hope her bluff worked. As she watched Levi approach her, she felt like prey stalked by a lion. In the next week, it was going to take all the courage and bravo she could muster to keep from being eaten alive by this angry, sullen man.
Levi's father, Jeremiah, stood in the barn door. His bent back was to her. Locks of gray hair peeked out from under his black, flat crowned, big brimmed hat. With a touch of panic, Margaret wondered where the boy was. She didn't make the effort to travel this far one time a year in the dead of winter, Levi allowed her, for any other reason than to see Luke. Especially not this time when she had to make the trip from town without her husband, Harry. Particularly this year when this visit was more important than all the other trips. Because if Levi remembered she was bringing the journal to Luke, he'd be against her showing up. She knew he would fight her every step of the way, and she was determined to come anyway.
"Aunt Margaret, thou are here!" The boy shouted from the kitchen doorway. He dropped the empty water pail and the egg bucket in order to wave at her. Making a leap off the porch, Luke ignored the clatter behind him. He was long gone by the time the buckets shot off the porch and pitched noiselessly into the snow piled by the path.
With Moses right behind him, the boy sprinted through the gate hole so fast his wide brimmed hat flew from his head. It landed in the drift at the base of the yard fence. He was so excited he didn't realize he had lost his hat, but Moses did. He halted long enough to sniff Luke's hat before he scampered over to bounce off the sleigh. In his haste, Luke's mop of yellow hair, the color of corn kernels, flapped away from his ears. He skidded to a halt by the sleigh and jumped up and down.
Excitement gleamed in the boy's glittering, blue eyes. "It's so late in the afternoon, and thou didn't come yesterday. Thou might not be coming, I feared. Hurry up and get down."
Margaret put her hand on her chest to slow her thudding heart. It was such a comfort to see this boy, a younger version of Levi. She just had to look into his smiling face to know that he very much wanted her here. Bolstered by his greeting, Margaret teased, "Sorry I'm late, Luke. You need not have worried. I've never missed being here for Christmas yet, have I?"
"Not ever, Aunt Margaret," Luke stated with zeal.
Feeling a little more sure of herself, Margaret laughed at the child's enthusiasm while she tossed the lap robe aside. She drew her red cape tighter around her shoulders and pulled her trapped, freeze dried tresses out on top of the cape. Gathering up her dark brown, wool skirt in one hand, she held the other hand out to the boy. "Please, Luke, help me down. My legs and feet are so stiff and numb from the cold, I may have trouble walking."
The frozen snow crunched under the weight of her stinging toes. The tingle in her chilled feet contrasted drastically with the sudden heat that bored into her back from Levi's eyes. Margaret twisted to look through the steamy vapors rising above the horse's back. The man watched the exchange between his son and her, but no way could she make out what he was thinking. His face was as blank as a freshly, washed blackboard.
"Hello, Levi." Her husky voice sounded mechanical to her ears as she looked into the man's cold as ice, unwavering, blue eyes. She turned back to Luke's worried expression. He glanced at his father and back at her. At least in front of the boy, she had to make a stab at being civil to Levi for this precious child's sake. Besides the week would seem a terminally, long visit if she let Levi get to her at the very beginning of her stay. She smiled down at Luke and patted his head to reassure him.
Levi must have thought the same thing as he watched his son. "Wilkom, Margaret Goodman. Best get inside and warm up," he said, his tone quietly clipped.
Margaret glanced over her shoulder. If Levi's short pretense at an invitation hadn't been remote enough, his face, emotionally frigid as this winter day, told her she was not really welcome in his home but tolerated for his son's sake.
Margaret concentrated on the boy. That always took away the sting of Levi's words. She pointed to the wicker basket on the sleigh seat. "Luke, please carry that inside for me. I'm ready to warm up and have a cup of tea right now." Margaret forced cheerfulness into her voice. "First, let me give you a proper hello. You've grown so much. You must be a foot taller than last year." She drew Luke to her, engulfing him in an enthusiastic, bear hug.
"Only four inches," corrected the boy.
"All out of tea," Levi put forth shortly. He looked straight ahead as he marched past Luke and her.
"Figured that. That's one of the things I brought with me in the basket," Margaret shot back at Levi's ramrod, straight back as she trailed after him.
Setting the basket down, Luke picked up his hat. He beat it against his leg to rid it of snow and put it back on. Margaret paused to look back at the western sky while she waited for the boy. The sun had slipped half way below the horizon, creating long, red fingers across the sky. In the fading daylight, the old man still leaned in the barn door, but he faced the house now. No doubt watching with interest the underlying discord between Levi and her. She could imagine that he might not want to be any closer than the barn during their initial meeting.
"Jeremiah Yoder, come in out of the cold if you have time. Have a cup of tea with me," she hailed, beckoning to him with a wave of her hand.
Moses stopped his inspection of the sleigh when he heard Margaret's voice. The dog caught up to her and whined for attention as he sniffed at her skirt. She reached down and patted his head before she turned and trudged with Luke on the snow packed path toward the house. Behind her, she heard the chickens squawk in alarm. Jeremiah must have scattered the flock as he walked across the barnyard. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to ease away some of the tension that had built up in her all day. She was so very thankful that Jeremiah chose to come when she called. He never liked to take sides between Levi and her. Just the same, Margaret needed that old man to be near her at first as a buffer until she had time to get use to the chilliness that radiated off Levi. It had always helped bolster her spirit to know that Jeremiah liked her to visit almost as much as Luke did. Jeremiah did his best to respect his son's wishes and Amish law when he was at the Plain people gatherings, but in the privacy of his own home, he wasn't afraid to show how much he thought of her.

Now that's it for this week. As soon as I get my blog posts done I'm going to spend the rest of the day between the fans inside and the shade trees. For the first time, we are going to have central air. The heat and forecast has made believers out of us.

More First Chapters Coming Next Week

We live five miles south of Garrison so yesterday morning we had a startling awakening before daylight. As soon as we could see we began cleanup of branches and limbs and a half a pear tree which took us all day and this morning to complete. We were without electricity for over five hours yesterday and didn't have phone service this morning so I couldn't get on the internet. That's minor compared to the devastation that happened in Garrison and Vinton.

The last couple weeks have been busy. We finally got the two crops in one hay made the last day of June and first day of July. The event went off without any problems this time with the machinery unless we counted the heat. Everyone is telling me we couldn't make hay without hot weather, but did it have to be that hot?

My computer stopped working about then. I had to wait until after the fourth to take it into the repairman. The computer shut itself off each time I started it. The repairman opened the computer and showed me inside. Fifty percent of the dust that sifted in through our window screens had sucked into the computer fans. Blowing the dust away wasn't hard, and I will be doing that myself from now on. The repairman started the computer to see if it would work all right. He remarked that it was slow. I'm used to that, but he has high speed. The problem was too many anti-virus programs which I had installed for added security. That's not a good thing. He said leave the computer and come back later after he deleted all but one program. Later, the repairman said he found viruses that made their way in while the anti-viruses were busy fussing with each other. He needed more time. Three days later I called. He might have the computer running smoothly by late afternoon. He was installing me an anti-virus program and still looking to see if he missed anything. I picked the computer up and haven't found much difference in performance, but then like I said I'm used to it.

One day while I was computer free my brother, sister-in-law, their grandson, Avery, and his cousin, Emily, both 9 years old, spent the day with us. Years back, nieces and nephews enjoyed a tour of my animals and some hands on fun in the country. Now the great nieces and nephews are doing the same. Children haven't an opportunity to see a variety of farm animals like they could in the past on diversified farms. Animals are raised in confinement buildings and feed lots. Ask a child where eggs come from and the reply might be out of a carton Mom bought at the grocery store. The Benton County Farm Bureau women have had a farm day at the fair grounds for years for elementary children. Twenty years ago when I helped with the farm tour we had the kids bused to farms. I set the Keystone third graders up to see a dairy farm. The farmer handed out small cartons of white and chocolate milk from the Dairy Association as the kids came off the bus. The students followed the farmer through his dairy barn, listening as he talked about the milking routine. In a lot attached to the barn, he showed them his herd. A boy held up his hand. He wanted to know which cow gave the chocolate milk he just drank.

Our young neighbor graduated from high school and left the first of June for Africa. He will stay there until the first of August. He has a blog post with pictures on word press. If you'd like to see Mbita Kenya on Lake Victoria, the farmers AJ has met in his volunteer work as part of the Borlaug-Ruan International Internship Program for the International Centre for Insect Phyisology and Ecology and students from a school he volunteers at in his free time go to anthonywenndtwordpress.com AJ is a very descriptive writer, and his adventures are fun to read about. He's having quite an experience, interviewing farmers and absorbing the culture.

Now next week I'm going to go back to posting about my books and first chapters.

The Rainbow's End-Amish Fiction With A Twist-Chapter 1

If you like Amish fiction, here's your chance to try a sample of one of my books in my Nurse Hal Amish series.
This week's blog post is the first chapter from the second book. The title is The Rainbow's End. The book can be bought in my online bookstore www.booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com which includes my blog if you want a sample of the book. The ebook is in the Kindle store and B&N nook store.

Nurse Hallie Lindstrom is trying to figure out if she could belong to an Amish family. She's spending a lot of her free time at the Lapp farm. John is building a medical clinic on the side of his house so Nurse Hal can give health care to the Amish community.

One day Stella Strutt shows up to check out the medical clinic and goes away dissatisfied with Nurse Hal and her efforts. When very few Amish come for treatment, Hal discovers that Stella Strutt is telling everyone to stay away. Hal has to decide if she loves John Lapp and his family enough to find away to win over the Amish community.

esuoH eeffoC yellA avaJ. Those six inch black letters arched in a horseshoe shape on the cafe's large, plate glass window. Underneath them thick, wavy, painted fingers of steam rose out of a delicate, white, china coffee cup. The steam swirled its way up toward the letters. Hallie Lindstrom's eyes lit on the words as she slid into the red cushioned booth. She wondered how the owner came up with the name Java Alley Coffee House. Not that she found anything wrong with the name, but the cafe sat in the middle of a row of buildings just off Main Street. No alley near it except the back one that the delivery trucks used. Hal had never known that one or any other alley in Wickenburg, Iowa to have a name.

She ducked her head to peer under the advertising so she could look up and down the street. She glanced at her watch. Her boss, Barb Sloan, should have shown up by now. She said she would close the Home Health Office at noon and meet here for lunch. It was already 12:20. Doesn't take very long to drive across this small town. Not much traffic any time of day and especially not at noon when everyone stops to eat. Hal had other things to do after lunch. She hated wasting time waiting for Barb.

Impatiently, she leaned back and stared at the ceiling while she drummed the table with her fingers. A dark brown splotch on the ceiling tile at the fan's base indicated a roof leak. The fan blades turned hypnotically slow.

The air flow was just enough to keep a fly from lighting anywhere close to the blades. The insect was persistent, leaving and coming right back to try to light in the brown spot again.

Hal looked around the room. Coffee always smelled better to her than it tasted. The different scents coming from the dozen coffee pots lined up behind the counter co-mingled together – hazelnut, french vanilla, southern pecan, and a variety of other flavors. She was thinking she should get the waitress's attention and at least order a cup of coffee when she saw Barb hustling across the room.

"I just about gave up on you," Hal said.

Breathless from rushing, Barb pushed her straight, brown, shoulder length hair away from her face and wheezed, "Had a last minute prospective client come in the office. Slowed me down, but I'm here now. Let's order. The minute I get a whiff of this place I've got to have a cup of flavored coffee." Barb waved at a waitress.

Shirley Graham, age 60, hustled toward them. Her silvery blonde hairdo was plastered around her face by a red baseball cap adorned with a big white C on it. Dressed in a black turtle neck sweater covered by a pink cardigan with black slacks, she wore black, tied, sensible shoes. Her small cross earrings matched a cross dangling from a fragile, gold chain necklace.
No customer could accuse Shirley of having a favorite sports team. She had a variety of sports caps in colors to match many of her outfits. Older than most of the waitresses, she held her own at the job. Shirley had been working long enough to be appreciated by her customers.

Order book out in front of her and pen poised, she asked briskly, "How's the day going for you two ladies?"

Hal smiled. "We're fine."

"But starved and thirsty," added Barb.

"What can I get you, Sweetie?"

"I want a toasted cheese and ham sandwich and vanilla coffee," Barb ordered.
Shirley shifted her weight and peered down her nose at Hal. "I'll take the same except I want hazelnut coffee."

"Be back in a jiffy, ladies." Shirley wheeled and headed for the kitchen. The sway of her cross earrings caught the light and flashed as she walked, warning everyone to get out of her way. She had an order to fill.

Barb leaned her elbows on the table and concentrated on Hal. "Now while we're waiting for our food, fill me in on your love life. I've been dying to find out."

"Boy, you get right to the point. Nothing much to tell. This morning, John and some neighbors started building a clinic room on the side of the house. Soon Amish people can come to our home to let me treat them. I doubt I get much business, but it may be the best way I have of proving I can be a productive member of their society so I get accepted by the Amish community," Hal said honestly. "I have to be accepted. It would make it hard on John and his children if I'm not."

Barb had a perplexed look in her hazel eyes. "The pay won't be very good from Amish patients. You realize that?"

"I know that," Hal admitted. "In fact, there isn't any pay. I will just be doing my share to help others."

"In that case, don't you think you better keep working a full schedule for the Home Health Department? You're one of the best nurses I have. I hate the fact that you're cutting back."

Hal shook her head. "No, I can't be two places at once. The Amish community needs to know they can count on me being home in the afternoons."

"Here you go, Sweeties," Shirley said when she set the coffee cups in front of them.
Waiting until the waitress departed, Barb pushed her cup over and leaned on the table to ask,
"When's the wedding?"

As Hal fingered the rim of her steaming coffee, the scent of hazelnut rose from the cup. She didn't look up when she answered, "Don't know."

"I suppose you have been too busy to set a date?" Barb suggested, eying her.

"Not exactly."

Puzzlement crossed Barb's face. "Then what exactly?"

Hal sighed. "John hasn't brought the wedding up since he asked me to marry him," she admitted reluctantly.

"Don't you think you should bring it up to him? It takes lots of planning for a wedding. You need to know what your deadline is," Barb insisted.

"Perhaps I should."

Barb looked concerned. "Mr. Lapp hasn't changed his mind, has he? He isn't expecting you to just be a live in nurse among other things?"

"No!" Hal expelled adamantly. "I'm sure he wants to marry me."

"Good. Am I going to be invited to the wedding?"

Hal giggled. "I'll make sure you are."

"Keep in mind, maybe you don't need much notice, but I do. I have to get a new dress," Barb teased.

Laughing, Hal said, "Noted."

After lunch, Hal was on the outskirts of town and coming up to Earnie Long's repair garage and gas station. She decided to pull in and get a can of Cherry Coke. Earnie's feet were sticking out from under a car in the garage. Hal walked to the overhead door and said, "Hey, Earnie, it's Hal Lindstrom. I just want a can of pop. I can leave my money on the counter if you don't want to stop what you're doing."

Earnie, his receding strawberry red hairline smeared with grease, wheeled out from under the car on a trolley. He gave her an oil smudged smile. "Knock yourself out, my girl."
Hal grinned back at him. "Thanks."

The last business, she past was the Kent feed store. That place always seemed to do a good business. If you went by the amount of pickups in the parking lot. Outside of town was the tree nursery. From the look of the front lot, the nursery had just gotten in a new shipment to add to the choices that grew in the fields behind the building. In large black pots, a variety of skinny fruit trees, red buds, flowering cherries and maples had sparse, bare limbs reaching skyward. Colorado Blue Spruce, Douglas fir, and arborvitae, in various sizes mingled, with rose of sharon, honeysuckle and privet hedge shrubs.

Once Hal was on the highway, she took in the rolling hills of southern Iowa. Oaks, cottonwoods, dogwoods and plum limbs swelled with buds. Weeping willows had turned yellow green. The season's birth was everywhere. Newborn calves and lambs frolicked across the pastures along side their mothers. With the changing of the seasons, she felt an excitement and joy. It was so good to be able to enjoy the scenery not covered in a coating of white.

She traveled these country roads almost every day. As she watched the now familiar scenery she sped past, she had a comforting sense she was headed for home. A feeling she hadn't experienced since she left her parents farm near Titonka, Iowa.

She turned off the pavement onto the gravel and headed west. Her mind raced over the last few months. How quickly she became involved with the Lapp family. Suddenly, her conversation with Barb played over in her head. The questions Barb put to her worried her. Though she would never tell her friend that. Why hadn't John brought up a wedding date? When she was at the Lapp farm she certainly felt like part of the family. She was sure that John loved her enough to marry her. Almost sure anyway. Emma, Noah and Daniel had accepted her. She loved them as if they were her own children. She was sure the Lapp children felt the same way about her.

Never the less, this was not going to be an easy union with all the hurtles faced by an English woman marrying an Amish man. Hal knew nothing about Amish ways. She certainly hadn't made it easy on John to get used to her. From the moment they met, she'd made one mistake after another. Things that would have made any sane English man have enough doubts about her to cause him to back off. Heaven knows why John Lapp fell in love with her. However, she was certainly glad that he did, because she loved him with her whole heart.

Hal slowed down to turn into the Lapp driveway. Attached to the post below the mailbox was a sign she hadn't noticed before. Emma must have put it up that morning. It read, All things Are Open Before God.

A bare square of dirt in the lawn along side the ditch was noticeable now that the snow had melted. A row of gallon milk jugs had been stuck in the dirt. Hal made a mental note to ask Emma what that was all about. In front of the barn were two buggies with horses attached. Hal noted that all Amish horses were as alike as Amish clothes, always red with dark red manes and tails.

The sound of hammers drew her attention to the house. She marveled at how the new room was going up so fast. Two men, John and a boy, up on ladders, nailed the framework to the rafters. A heavy set farmer, short legged with a ruddy, round face, turned to look as she slowed down. The other man, about John's age, was tall and lanky. The boy was around Emma's age.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Hal saw a low flying, black and white blur spring out of the ditch and rush toward her car. Her heart pounded as she skid to a stop. Patches, the Lapp dog, reared up and put his front paws on the door. He peered in at her, whining a greeting. Giving the window a lick with his long, juicy tongue, he showed her he was glad to see her. Hal pressed hard on the button and lowered her spit smeared window. She snapped, "Patches, get down."

The dog did as he was told. He loped ahead of her up the driveway and sat down to wait for her. Hal hated that he had started coming out on the road to greet her. She wanted the Lapp children to continue to like her. Running over their dog would definitely put a damper on their feelings for her. Besides, she was fond of Patches. No way did she want something to happen to the feisty pet.

Hal started her car and slowly halted in front of the house. Her face flushed when she noticed the Amish men twisted on the ladders to watch her. It crossed her mind that it sure would be easier for her if she could morph herself into an Amish woman whenever she needed to and slip quietly by those men. First impressions were important right now. What the men saw was a curly, copper-red mop of hair on a bright blue eyed English woman clothed in a bright green blouse and blue jeans. Her buggy happened to be a gaudy, copper sedan. Nothing about her spelled demur or plain. Some time soon, she would have to tone down in order to get the Amish community's approval before John announced he was going to marry her. Maybe the way she looked was the reason for John's slowness to discuss their wedding. If it was, she wished he would say so instead of her having to drag it out of him.

Wagging his tail, Patches jumped on her and licked her chin the minute she stepped out of the car.

Worldly Temptations-Book 3 Nurse Hal Amish Series-Chapter 1

Here I go again with the next synopsis and first chapter of my Nurse Hal Amish series. This book is titled Worldly Temptations.

How would you like it if you were told you have to throw away your cell phone and sell your car? You probably wouldn't. You don't have worry because there is a telephone booth three miles away from your farm that resembles an outhouse. You can make business calls but not social calls to chat with a friend. That is reserved for visiting in person on church Sunday or in between Sundays. As for transportation in all kinds of weather, you will be able to ride in an enclosed buggy pulled by a red horse like everyone else.

If you grow up Amish, the phone booth and buggy are a given. If you're English, the Amish way of doing things take getting used to for a woman who falls in love with an Amish farmer. Hallie Lindstrom grew up on a dairy farm in northern Iowa. She loves country life, but that doesn't mean she knows how to hitch up a horse to a buggy. Getting up before daylight to work on the farm was something her father did, but Hal was young with boys on her mind in those days. Now she's learning what it takes to labor on an Amish farm with machinery that is horse drawn in between doing her part to contribute to the Amish community by running a health clinic.

When book two The Rainbow's End came out, I had quite a few emails telling me to hurry up and write another Nurse Hal book. In the next one, they hoped for a wedding between Hal and John. I complied. The bishop is a friend. He's convinced Hal will be an asset to the Amish as a nurse as well as a helpmate to John Lapp who has three motherless children. Even so, he is determined that Hal must follow the church's laws. That means no cell phone or car that would lead to worldly temptations. Letting her keep her phone and car could set a bad example for young Amish the bishop wants to keep in the fold. With that decree in mind, John and Hal marry. When Hal is told it's time for her worldly possessions to go, she refuses to give them up. That means Hal is in enough trouble to get her sent away before she's had a chance to get used to being Amish.

The Worldly Temptations cover picture was taken on a neighboring farm. All I had to do was add the buggies. Take a look at booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com or Amazon.

Chapter 1

Bacon! Hal pulled the sheet off her chin, wrinkled her nose and sniffed. Greasy, stomach rolling, strong smelling bacon. Whether she liked it or not that's what she smelled. Hal pressed one hand against her crazily pitching, queasy stomach and used the other to pull the sheet up over her nose to try to block the stink.
Mom must be cooking breakfast. She blinked her eyes and rubbed them, trying to wake up. A peek from one eye at the window told her it was still dark outside. What was Mom doing up this early? She glanced at the clock beside the bed and groaned softly. Three scarlet numbers, four and two zeros glared at her.
Hal grabbed her bathrobe and slipped into it on the way to the kitchen. She put her hands on her hips and studied her stocky, gray haired mother's back as she stood in of the cookstove. "Mom, do you know what time it is? I'd hoped I could sleep in a little longer. We've got a lot of work to do today to get ready for my wedding tomorrow. What are you doing up this early?"
"From what your Aunt Tootie found in a book about the Amish at the library, they always get up early. We need to get a move on so we get to the farm fairly soon. We don't want the Lapp family to think we're lazy people. You might as well get used to getting out of bed before daylight," Nora Lindstrom chided.
"I don't think they get up this early," groaned Hal.
Nora forked the bacon from the skillet onto a plate. "You sure? Maybe we should ask John so you know for sure."
"No, don't bother," Hal said brusquely and changed the subject. "No breakfast for me, Mom. I don't think I could eat a bit,"
Nora focused a knowing smile on her daughter. "Didn't fix you any. This is for your dad. I'm not so old that I don't remember my wedding day. Didn't think you'd be able to eat much today or tomorrow until after the wedding is over. The coffee's done if you want a cup."
"Sure. That I need to wake me up," Hal said dryly. As she poured, she said, "Thanks, Mom, for helping me box up my things last night. It won't take long to clear out the apartment now. I know that was a chore you didn't expect as soon as you arrived yesterday. You had to be tired after that long drive from Titonka."
"Wasn't that big a job. I was glad to help." Nora broke two eggs into the hot greasy skillet.
"I cleaned out my closet before I went to bed and sacked my clothes to give Good Will. We can put them in the drop off box this morning on the way out of town," Hal said, staring off into space.
The sound in Hal's voice made Nora twist to study her. "You don't sound so all right about giving away your clothes."
"That is hard. I like my English clothes, but when I think about choosing between a fashion statement and a family, there's no contest," Hal said, sitting down at the table with her coffee. "I've one box of photo albums I'd like Dad to put in the car trunk so you don't go off without it. You might as well take the pictures home with you. I hate to throw them away."
"I get it that the Amish don't want pictures taken of them," Nora started. "But ----."
"They think when someone takes a picture of them that's stealing their soul. The bible says no graven images," Hal interrupted.
"I know all that, but you weren't Amish when those pictures were taken. I'd think you could at least take the small album with your grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles in it to your new home. Someday John's children and hopefully, some of your own would like to see what you looked like as a child and their ancestors."
"You think?" Hal said optimistically.
Her mother's head, brown hair feathered with gray, nodded. She had her attention on the eggs she was turning. "Can't see how it would be bad to have pictures of people who didn't believe the graven image scripture. John and his family should be broad minded enough to allow you your family pictures."
"You're right, Mom. I hate to give that album up. The school pictures, it doesn't really bother me to not ever see again. All right, I'll slip the small album in with the bedding and tuck it away in a drawer for the future. Thanks, Mom."
"You're welcome." Nora turned her head toward the hallway and yelled, "Jim, get out here and eat. Your breakfast is ready." The toaster banged. Two pieces of toast shot up. Further warning breakfast was about to be served whether Jim was ready or not. Nora buttered each slice before she scooted them on a plate beside the bacon and hard fried eggs.
Hal's father, his gray hair sticking out in all directions, shuffled down the hall. He plopped down at the table. Hal stared at the cholesterol, heart attack precursor filled plate Nora placed in front of her father. She made a mental note when her mother wasn't listening to remind him to go to the doctor for a physical once in awhile.
Jim winked at his wife and grinned at his daughter. "Well, how you feeling this morning, Hallie?"
"Not so hot," Hal conceded. She rubbed her stomach, feeling urpy now that she'd looked at and smelled his plate of food. She'd swear her mother deliberately waved it under her nose before she set the plate down.
"She's got wedding jitters," giggled Nora behind her hand to Jim.
"I have not. I'm just not hungry is all," snapped Hal, peevishly.
Jim shrugged his broad farmer shoulders. "Whatever you say, Daughter. But jitters are to be expected. If you was to have some, that is, it would be all right. By afternoon tomorrow you'll be feeling less nervous once the wedding is over. What time is the wedding buggy coming for us in the morning?"
Hal's eyebrows furrowed together as she set her cup down. "There isn't any wedding buggy. What made you think there was?"
"Tootie told your mother her Amish book said you'd have to arrive at the wedding in a buggy," Jim said before he crunched on a bacon strip.
"That might be if you were Amish, but you're not and you don't own a buggy. For your information, we're going to the Lapp farm in your car in the morning. You're driving because you are my father," informed Hal.
"I thought you couldn't ride in a car after today," he said with a puzzled look.
"I can so ride in one. I'm just not supposed to drive one including my own," Hal groaned, tapping the table with her fingers.
Nora poured a cup of coffee and sit down next to Hal. She perked up as an idea struck her. "When you're ready to sell your car, Dear, can your cousin, Cindy, buy it? Tootie's been looking for a car for her to drive to college this fall."
"I'm not selling my car," Hal barked.
Jim looked baffled. "I thought you just said you couldn't drive it. You might as well get rid of it. Not good for a car to never be run."
"I'm stalling while I try to think of a way around that," retorted Hal, tipping the cup for the last sip. "Listen, I'm going to go take a shower and get ready to leave. Emma will be bustling around, trying to do everything by herself." She darted a look at her mother. "We might as well be useful now that we're up."
"Does it matter what I wear to the wedding?" Her father asked, looking worried.
"A suit would be nice," Hal explained patiently.
"I brought that. What do Amish men wear?"
"Black suits and black hats with a white shirt," she answered.
"They wear hats! I just bought a white western hat. I have it with me," Jim said excitedly.
"Oh, please no! Not a white western hat!" Hal cried.
"Why not?"
"The Amish wear black felt hats or straw hats, but during the wedding or a church meeting, they won't have a hat on. To wear a white hat wouldn't do at all at the wedding and maybe never when you're visiting the Amish," Hal scolded.
Jim scratched a sideburn. The action reminded Hal of John when he couldn't figure out what to make of her way of thinking. Finally, he said quietly, "All right, I won't wear the hat, but I still don't see why not."
"Because I want John and his children to like you. That's why not. Mom, can you explain it to him?" Hal pleaded.
Nora sighed and patted her hand. "I'll try, dear, but I'm confused, too. I'm not so sure I understand all this myself. It seems to me from what you tell us Amish life may be entirely different from the way Tootie drilled it into us."
Hal showered and put on her pale green dress and white apron. After she pulled a wet comb through her copper red hair, she braided as much of it as she could. She wrapped the braid around her head before she clamped her white prayer cap down tight. When she studied her image in the mirror, Hal gave herself a disgusted look. She had to face it. With bright, frizzy hair like hers, nothing was going to keep her from looking like Harpo Marx with a bald spot.
At the same time as she chided herself, she knew she should feel lucky. No matter how she looked, John and the kids seemed to love her anyway. She was getting a good, understanding Plain husband and a ready made family of three kids. Dear fifteen year old Emma was a mother hen to everyone including her. Frankly, Hal didn't know how she would manage being a housewife or motherhood if Emma wasn't there to help her. Being a nurse was a breeze compare to what Amish housewives had to know.
John's oldest son, Noah, twelve years old going on thirty, was so serious, and ten year old Daniel, kept excitement and fun in all their lives with his mischievous nature.
Hal grabbed the garbage sack stuffed with clothes out of the corner and headed for the living room. Mom watched out the window as a blue jay lit on the bird feeder. Her father had the local news channel on. Both of them seemed to be patiently waiting on her.
"Ready, you guys?" Hal asked.
"My don't you look -----," Nora searched for the right word as she surveyed her daughter.
"Different, Mom?" Hal questioned edgily. "Is that the word?"
"No, I wouldn't have said that at all. You look nice," Nora replied.
"Sorry it took me so long to get ready. I couldn't do a thing with my hair this morning," Hal complained.
"Why don't you get it cut off today," Jim suggested.
"Can't," Hal said quickly. "Amish women don't cut their hair ever."
Nora frowned, "Seems like there is an awful lot of don't rules when you belong to this group."
"Group? Mom, this isn't some club I'm joining. I'm getting married, and I'm part of the Amish faith now," Hal said plaintively.
"I agree with your mother. Can't you just tell them you forgot about rule 347 and go get your hair cut this once before they can stop you," her dad said dryly.
"No, I can't."
"Are there any good things about being Amish?" Nora asked, wrinkling up her nose.
"Yes, you're getting a nice son-in-law, three sweet grandchildren and a happy daughter," Hal assured her.
Putting a stop to the subject, Hal dropped the clothes bag and rushed back to her bedroom. She placed the box of pictures she'd forgotten earlier under her arm, letting it rest on her hip. Hal returned to the living room and handed her father the bag then ushered her parents out the door. She glanced back long enough to scan the living room and what she could see through the door to the kitchen. John and the boys would help her move her things out of the apartment before the end of the month. The living room furniture was in better shape than John's so he was going to put those items in their living room. She was glad about that. The Lapp couch was in sad shape after all the years the children bounced on it.
Hal eyed the crystal stemmed lamp by her recliner. A breeze from the open door made the fringe on the end of the shade shutter. She liked that lamp, but it was electric. Not being able to keep that lamp meant good bye to one life and get used to another entirely different way of living. She hoped from tomorrow on her life would be all she wanted it to be, and that she'd prepared herself well enough to accept the drastic changes she faced.
Hal turned the key in the door lock and twisted around to find her mother watching her intently. "Are you sure, Hal, that this new life is really what you want?"
"I'm sure. I was just making a mental of list of my things that I could take to the farm." Hal sighed before she added, "I really like my crystal lamp, but it's electric. Suppose Cindy could use it in her college dorm?"
"Don't know, but if she doesn't want it I can find a place for the lamp," Nora said eagerly.
"All right, before you leave for home let's go for a walk through the apartment and anything with a cord that will fit in the car is yours," Hal said.
"You can change your mind," Nora suggested.
"No, I can't. This apartment is full of just stuff. I don't need stuff. I need John and the kids. I wouldn't back out on them. This new life is what I want, but sometimes I wonder if I'm up to the challenge of being Amish," Hal said.
"You can succeed at anything if you really want to. All you have to do is keep trying until you get it right," Nora said sagely.
"Is that all there is to it, Mom?"
"Being Amish is a new way of life for you. There are bound to be some mistakes made along the way, but your Amish family and friends will help you. Before you know it, you'll get the hang of it with John and the children by your side supporting you. I'm sure of it," Nora said, hugging her daughter.
The car window whine down. "Are you two coming? I won't get to the farm before John has the cows milked if you don't hurry."
An amber glow lit up the dark eastern sky as the top edge of the sun peeked above the apartment house across the street. Hal hated to say so out loud, but she feared her dad was right. The milking would be over before they got to the farm.

A Promise Is A Promise-Amish Series-Chapter 1

I've decided to post the first chapters of some my books. If anyone likes what they read and want to read the books they can purchase the paperbacks from my bookstore booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com or Amazon. The ebook versions can be bought from the Kindle store, B&N's Nook store and Smashwords has five of my ebooks for sale.

I've been seeing an increase in sales in my other ebook titles. It looks like buyers of my Amish fiction have searched my name to see what other books I've written. My Amish and western books are selling in Amazon UK so I'm waiting to see if the same thing applies there in a few months.

This chapter one is from book one in the Nurse Hal Among The Amish Series. Title - A Promise Is A Promise


Home Health nurse, Hallie Lindstorm, better known as Hal to her friends and family, stepped out of the Wickenburg Senior Citizen apartments entry door smack into a taste of winter. She wasn't prepared for the temperature drop that happened while she visited her clients. A strong blast of cold wind hit her. One long shiver ran though her five foot five inch body and broke out in goose bumps on her arms and legs. She had been in too big a hurry to get on with her day to think about the weather. Stopping by the Jack O'Lantern display, she zipped her denim jacket over her light blue blouse. As if giving her a cue to keep moving, her cell phone vibrated in her navy blue slacks pocket. Hoping for a little protection from the wind, Hal stepped closer to the building. A row of ornamental pear trees let of a bushel of dried leaves. The rattling leaves tumbled across the parking lot and over Hal's feet. She turned her back to the wind and leaned her shoulder against the brick wall. The text message was from her boss, Barb Sloan, head of the Home Health Department. STOP BY THE OFFICE BEFORE NOON IF YOU CAN! Now what's wrong? Barb never pulls me into the office during the day. Hal glanced at her watch. Noon was thirty minutes away. On the east edge of Wickenburg, an out of business car dealership housed the home health office along with a couple lawyers, a photography studio, a Dollar Store and a half price book store. That was the closest the town would ever get to a mall. The building was ten minutes from the senior citizen apartments. She could make it easy. Hugging her apple green tote bag to her chest so the wind wouldn't dump her nursing supplies, she headed for her late model, copper sedan in the parking lot.
Hal entered the Home Health Department and marched across the office to her boss's desk. "What's up, Barb?"
Worrying that the wind did a number on her hair, Hal patted down her wind blown, copper curls trapped on the back side of a wide, brown hair band. Her parents called her Carrot Top, because her hair was a similar mess as the comedian. Wind or no wind. Not much seemed to help her unruly do short of the suggestion her teasing father once made to cut it all off. She wasn't ready to go bald yet.
Barb looked up from the form she was studying, pushed her brown, straight cut hair back out of her hazel eyes and smiled. "Good Morning to you, too, Hal." Getting to the point, she explained, "I have a new client for you. Sit down a minute." She shuffled through a stack of folders and came up with the one she wanted. Speaking slowly, she read off a page, "Name's John Lapp. He lives at 1210 60th Street. That's out in the country south of town."
"All right, but I have a full load of clients in town." Hal frowned at the thought of one more person added to her work load. This one, out of town to boot, meant time spent coming and going the miles between clients.
" I'll reassign your afternoon clients to Cindy Wauters. I don't know if you've heard, but Lucy Stineford went to work at the hospital this week. I'm trying to rearrange everyone's schedule to take on her work load until we get another nurse hired. Have to add the new ones at the same time."
Sounded like Barb had her hands full. Hal didn't mean to make matters worse for her by complaining. "Yeah, Lucy told me she was quitting. All right. Give me the particulars on Mr. Lapp."
Barb looked at the chart. "This gentleman cut off two toes on his left foot with an ax while cutting wood yesterday. The great toe and the one next to it."
"Ouch!" Hal grimaced. "So I'm to watch for infection and see if the toes reattach?"
Shaking her head, Barb explained, "No. Mr. Lapp didn't bring the toes in with him. Doctor Burns stitched the wound. The doctor's order is to change the dressing every day until Mr. Lapp's next appointment in a couple of weeks. After that the visits can be less often until healed. Unless you think the client needs to be seen sooner. Visits are to start today. The client expects you this afternoon."
Hal worried, "I haven't been around anyone Amish before. Is there anything in particular I should know?"
"Like what?"
Hal shrugged her shoulders. "You know. Weird beliefs or medical procedures they won't let me do."
"No, just treat Mr. Lapp like any other client. That foot has to be hurting him bad enough, he'll appreciate any medical help he gets from you," Barb said, smiling at Hal's preconceived notion of the Amish.
Hal was on her way across the room when as an after thought she asked, "Want to go for a quick lunch with me? You sound and look like you could use a break from that desk."
"No thanks, Girlfriend. Not today. Got too much to get done. Gonna have a sandwich at my desk," Barb replied, fetching a brown bag from a desk drawer.
Grinning at her boss, Hal retorted, "Come to think about it, now I don't have time, either. Join the club. But I didn't fix me anything to eat so I'll have to grab a quick sandwich at Millie's Maidrite."
The Maidrite was crowded. Hal ordered a burger, French fries and coffee. While she ate standing, she watched from the end of the counter as owner and waitress, blond, blue eyed, middle aged Millie Alperson flitted about. The woman was in a conversation with a highway patrolman who stopped by when he needed a greasy fix. Customers could count on Millie's Maidrite being a fixture in Wickenburg, Iowa until she retired or shut the doors if her patrons decided to eat healthy. Which wasn't likely to happen. With the economy the way it was, Alperson's Maidrite was the cheapest place in town. That Wednesday it looked like half the town was taking advantage of a lunch break at Millie's.
Hal pulled away from the Maidrite parking lot and discovered her mouth was dry. She just had a cup of coffee, but that didn't seem to quench her thirst. She checked the car clock and decided she had time to make one more stop before the Lapp appointment. She pulled in at Earnie Long's Conoco gas station and auto repair shop to get a can of Cherry Coke. In front of the roll up door, Earnie was wiping his grease stained hands on a paper towel. He waved at Hal and beat her into the station through a side door.
She had bought enough pop in this station to know right where to go without asking. One wall was lined with cases and another with cases of oil. A fan belt display hung above the oil. A counter of candy bars, cookies, chips and gum sat in the middle of the room. Fumes from gas and oil permeated the air.
" How's it goin', my girl?" Greeted Earnie, a man a receding, strawberry red hairline and weight issues. He pressed his bulging middle flat against the counter as he leaned on it to get closer to her.
"Fine, Earn." Hal handed him the correct change for the pop. Standing that close to the man, she tried not to breathe too deep. She didn't want second hand lung cancer. Earnie reeked of cigarette smoke. If she had to guess she would say he must have smoked a pack already that morning.
"Busy day?" He asked, giving Hal his wide, good old boy smile.
"Sort of. Have to go out into the country to see a new client. Know where 60th Street is?"
Earnie scrunched up his face like it hurt him to think. "Take this street. At the intersection get on the road goin' south out of town. Go about four miles. Turn east or west. Say that's Amish country. Amish gettin' home health nurses out there doesn't happen very often. Who you gonna see?"
"I can't tell you that. It's a privacy thing." Hal popped her can open and took a drink.
"Sure thing. Hey, Hal, why don't you go to the movie with me tonight once?" He invited.
"What's playing?"
Earnie shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. But it's something to do already." He winked at her.
For a moment, Hal hesitated to think about his invitation . She wondered just how bad she wanted a night out. "No, but thanks for asking. I may be running late this afternoon since I have to go out in the country. After rushing all day, when I get home I'm going to put my feet up and read a book. Besides if I stay up late tonight that makes it too hard to get up early tomorrow morning."
She didn't see any sense in telling Earnie she wouldn't go to the theater with him if she wanted to see a Brad Pitt movie in the worst way. She might need some repair work done on her car some day. Earnie was a good mechanic, but his not knowing what movie was playing certainly didn't sway her to accept a date with him. Sitting next to him for a couple hours would be long enough to kick up her allergies. Thoughts about how miserable she would feel, sniffling and sneezing for days, was the clincher.
Not long into the country drive, Hal decided she needed to look on the bright side of this trip. She was cruising passed colorful scenery. In pastures and on slopes, bright green grass was now much shorter and tinged with the brown. Standing out here and there in the grass, a lone, dried up bull thistle or a patch of them waved in the wind.
The rolling mounds of southern Iowa were surrounded with creeks meandering here and there. Brilliant red sumac, purple berry laden, fiery leafed polk plants and dark brown cattails, with tops oozing cotton stuffing, lined ravines dammed to form moss covered ponds. A collection of weeping willows with yellow green branches sagging to the ground, shaded the pond banks.
Now and then, she saw a deer with its time clock messed up, grazing in broad daylight among a cattle herd. A flocks of turkeys, pheasant or quail strutted across stubble fields, looking for a stray soy bean or kernel of corn. If the birds were lucky, they might stumble onto a pile of grain the combines spilled between the picked rows when filling a grain wagon. Timbers of hickory, walnut, cottonwood, dogwood and oaks painted a back drop of red, yellow and orange to brightened up the brown corn plants still standing.
At the base of a hill, Hal caught up to a John Deere tractor pulling two empty wagons that swayed back and forth. When she got where she could see over the hill, she passed the tractor and sped back up. At the 60th Street intersection, she had a dilemma. Which way was she supposed to turn? Hal pulled off onto the gravel road and stopped to call the office. "Hi Barb. Happen to know which way to the Lapp farm on 60th Street? Is it east or west of the highway?"
"West."
"Thanks a bunch. This must be my lucky day. I'm going the right way." Hal flipped the flap shut on the phone. It immediately vibrated an incoming call.
" Hello." Hearing throaty honks over head, Hal stretched to look over the steering wheel toward the light blue, cloudless sky. A large flock of geese flew low over her car, going the same direction as she was. Headed to Lake Rathbun, no doubt, for a layover to rest up before heading south.
"Hi, how's your day going?" Wickenburg Daily newspaper reporter, Phil King's smooth voice asked. Hal pictured him combing his plastered down hair in the men's bathroom mirror while he talked.
"Busy, Phil. I'm out south of town," Hal said brusquely. "Just got an extra client added to my list. Lives out here somewhere so I have to hustle." Hal's explanation was synchronized with a fair sized splatter of greenish white glob against her windshield. She yelled, "Dang it!"
"What's wrong?" She must have been mistaken about where Phil was. A loud bang sounded as if he had just taken his feet off his desk and stomped the floor as he sat up straight.
" Oh, nothing too drastic. A flock of geese just flew over me. One of them pooped on my windshield. Left the awfullest mess on the passenger side you'll ever see. That's what I get for sitting still too long. Bombed by geese," Hal growled.
"Won't keep you any longer then. The reason I called was to ask if you wanted to have supper with me tonight? I'm hungry for a big, juicy steak. Thought we could go out on 63 to the Angus Steak house," Phil invited.
Hal hesitated. She just turned down Earnie's offer, but this was different she excused to herself. Earnie hadn't offered a meal with his date. She would always be tempted by a hot, sit down supper. Beat the usual maidrites and take out she had to suffer through, because she didn't know how to cook.
"Sure," Hal accepted. "I can do that if you don't mind if we eat a little later. Maybe I'll be ready to go by eight."
"Great!" Phil snorted. "Just my luck, that late in the evening you'll have a bigger appetite. It'll cost me more to feed you." When Hal didn't respond, he laughed. "See ya later."
Hal slowed her car to a crawl when she noticed she was coming up to an immaculate farm with no electricity poles. Well kept fences made boundaries for fields of corn shocks, hay and a pasture. The green emergency 911 address post at the edge of the driveway said 1210. The mailbox had black letters painted on it LAPP. This was the right farm. She parked in front of the white, two story, clapboard house. The tidy structure was compact and pristine with a front porch along the front side. A large, white barn, with a rounded top and a lean to off each side, set across from the house with other outbuildings scattered about.
Hal raised her head to check out her fair skin and hair in the rear view mirror. Patting down the unruly, stray sprigs behind the head band, she said to her blue green eyes, "What these Amish folks are gonna see is what they get. They'll have to like it or lump it as Mom often says."
The minute Hal got out of the car, a flock of cawing chickens attracted her attention. Multa colored, contented hens industriously turned dirt into dusty powder in front of the barn door. Watching the chickens caused memories of days gone by to flood back to her. Taking care of chickens and selling eggs was what Hal did with her mother when she was a kid. Thinking about it made her miss her mother.
In the pen off the long barn, Holstein milk cows stood under a lean to, contentedly chewed their cud. The sound of a car motor was strange to them. The cows lined up to eye her over the fence with curious interest.
A small pen next to the cows contained a large, Holstein bull. In case she hadn't already decided he was an animal to avoid, he intended to sway her to that opinion. He pawed the ground before he stuck his head over the fence and snorted at her. Hal wasn't impressed. She grew up on a dairy farm, helping her father with chores. She was familiar with milk cows and unpredictable bulls.
By the corner of the bar closest to her, a large diesel generator hummed. The generator had to be hooked to the stainless steel cooking tank in the small milk house built onto the barn. Hal knew all about milk cows. When rules changed about keeping milk cold, her father had to quit using the milk cans and put in a bulk tank.
The memories made her homesick. She needed to quit thinking about her parents. Titonka, Iowa was too far away to jump in the car and go visit. Besides, she didn't have enough vacation time saved up yet.
Somewhere behind the barn, the screaming whinnies of horses sounded like they weren't getting along. At the edge of the field by the backyard, the windmill's blades squawked, racing in the brisk, north wind. Typical country sounds that she hadn't thought about missing until now.
Hal went around the car and pulled her tote bag and a box of wound dressings off the seat. With her hands full, she struggled to shut the door. The strong wind was against it. Finally, she balanced on one foot and kicked the door. Dust from the toe of her tennis shoe left the sole's impression. One more reason to stop at the car wash if she ever had time.
Hal whirled around at a series of rapid, deep barks too close behind her to her way of thinking. Her fast movement caused the nervous dog to back up to a safer distance as he yapped at her.

Road Trip To State Center Iowa

My historical Amazing Gracie Mystery series is set in a fictional small town in Iowa back in the early 1900's. Touring a small Iowa town yesterday reminded me how much things stay the same over a hundred years. For all of us small town citizens that don't like changes that is a comforting thought. If you like cozy mysteries with a Miss Marple type character you can find my mysteries in my bookstore at booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com and ebooks in Kindle and Nook.

My husband and I drove to State Center, Iowa. Where is State Center? A few miles west of Marshalltown on highway 30.

Did you know that State Center calls itself The Iowa Rose Capital? The stores have rose beds in front of them. In June, the town has a rose festival with a parade and Queen among other things. The coronation takes place in a gazebo in a park filled with walkways between rose beds.

On a side street, we looked around in an antique store called Rat Pack Shop. The inventory there would be enough to do several Antique Road Shows. The owner, Mike, is on the town historian committee and does lectures about the town in the good old days. He is responsible for finding and restoring a one room school house that was in sad shape. The building had become the home of raccoons that weren't house broken. He had that school moved to State Center to use as an exhibit. Do you remember the PBS One Room School House presentation. The man who restored State Center's school house was one of the stories near the end of the film. I saw that presentation twice and can't remember that particular story, but now that I've drove by the outside of the school and met the man who restored it, I'm waiting for PBS to reshow the film.

Downtown, we found a store filled with many nice gift ideas from consignors. The owner was playing cards with three other people. As we started to browse she said she'd be glad to stop playing and help us at any time. I didn't have anything in mind to buy. It was just fun to listen to the small town conversation going on at the card table. What fun it must be to spend the day with friends and customers at the same time. Way to the back of the store behind a stack of crafty things, I found what I couldn't live without - seven used paperback westerns. My husband was out of reading material for next winter, and I like them, too. When my sister-in-law pointed out I was an author, the owner asked if I'd like to have space there to sell my books on consignment. I'd love to, but I live too far away with the price gas is these days.

The Main Street sidewalk was lined with park benches and picnic tables. In the summer on Farmer's Market night, people buy fresh produce. They buy prepared food and take the time to have supper while they shop. Others rest awhile on park benches and catch up with what their neighbors have done all week.

We made a pass through the grocery store. The place smelled like a very good pizza baking in the deli. Not many small towns have a grocery store anymore. It's nice to see one in State Center accommodating customers that don't want to run to a larger town to shop. The store had affordable silk flowers for Memorial Day and an assortment of greeting cards. I found a stack of cards that said Hello From State Center. You'd really love it here... The picture is a sleepy eyes squirrel holding a bouquet of forget me nots. (and inside) but then, you love it anywhere!"

What a special day yesterday was even though it rained all the time we were gone. Our plan was to spend the day with my husband's sister, Kathy, and her husband Jerry. We ate a delicious lunch with Jerry in the Care Center at a table set up for his company. The desert was a new recipe for a special brownie with a secret ingredient. For chocolate lovers, I'd say you need to find that recipe, and I can tell you the secret ingredient wasn't chocolate. State Center can be proud of the nursing home that bears it's name; a lovely modern facility with friendly staff. We enjoyed our visit. One of the staff and a resident must have been prewarned that we were coming. I was asked if I was the one who writes books.

So on that rainy May day we had a good time, and we thank Kathy for the interesting tour of her town, State Center.