I’m trying something new.  I’m going to aim for a sample from one of my books on each Sunday.  Then at some point during the week, I’ll offer the inspiration for the sample I post.  Since this is new, I’m not sure where this will go.  😀

This week, I’ve chosen to do a sample from A Husband for Margaret.  It’s one of my favorite parts of the book, and in my next post, I’ll explain why.

***

Joseph Connealy grunted as his three-year-old son jumped on his lap to slap one of his brothers across the head.

            The wounded brother, of course, let out a high pitch wail.

Brother number three promptly smacked the three year old, and the youngest brother barely stirred from his slumber, proving that two year olds could sleep through anything as long as they spent most of the night running up and down the aisle.

A very tired Joseph barked out, “Enough!” and the three boys immediately stopped their bickering.  Joseph had no idea the train ride would be this long.  Sure, it didn’t seem like it’d be much when he packed their things and lugged them all to the station in Dayton.  But now that they’d been traveling for what seemed like years, he was ready to get off the train, hand them to Margaret Williams, and hightail it right back to Ohio.

Of course, he wouldn’t do that to the poor woman.  They were his children, after all.  But they sure did need a mother in the worst possible way.  And he needed them to have a mother as well.  He could only pray she’d be willing to marry him instead of his brother.

“Are we there yet?” Doug, the seven year old, asked.

“Almost,” Joseph mumbled, closing his eyes.  His head hurt.

“But you said that an hour ago,” Doug whined.

“Compared to when we started, we were almost there.”

“And now?”

“We’re even closer.”

“How much closer?”

“Five minutes,” he guessed.  At least, based on the itinerary, they should be ready to pull into the Omaha train station.  Dear God, let the itinerary be right.  My sanity depends on it.

“How long is five minutes?” Bob, the six year old, asked.

“I don’t know,” Joseph said.

“How come you don’t know?” Doug asked.

“I do know.  I just don’t know how to explain it so you’ll understand,” Joseph clarified.

“Is five minutes long?” Doug asked.

“No.”

Then Charles leaned his head back and knocked his father in the jaw.

Joseph grumbled and rubbed the sore spot.  “Alright.  Five minutes is long.”

“Longer than an hour?” Bob pressed.

The train finally—mercifully—began to slow, and Joseph breathed a loud sigh of relief.  God did answer prayers!