Blowing on Dandelions (31 page)

She waved a ring-bedecked hand in the air. “Not gambling, you understand, but that you would make poor decisions. I wanted to guide and direct your steps. I never recognized what an amazing woman you have become.” She smiled sadly. “And I must confess that part of me wanted you to need me. I assumed if you became infatuated with Mr. Jacobs, you might not want me around any longer. At the very least, you would never seek my counsel if you had someone else to turn to. I see now that my attitude may have kept you from that, regardless.”

Katherine’s eyes burned with unshed tears. This was too sudden, too huge, and too unbelievable. This couldn’t be her mother speaking. People didn’t change like this overnight. Had it been the shock of her granddaughter’s accident on top of the things she’d overheard? She wanted to trust her mother’s words, but a deep-seated fear gripped her. Katherine placed her hand over the strong fingers resting on her shoulder, needing the reassurance that something in the room was real. As much as she wanted to ask questions, she wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until Mama indicated she’d finished.

Her mother eyed her closely. “It has always been easy to read you, Katherine, even when you keep your own counsel. Although I must say you have gotten better these past weeks at hiding your emotions. But they are apparent now. I have shocked you. You are having a difficult time believing I am telling the truth. Is that correct?”

Katherine tried to form the right words. Calling her mother a liar wouldn’t do by far, but neither would admitting her own fear.

“Wait.” Mama halted her once more. “I have put you in an untenable position. Something I have done too often in the past.” She emitted a low laugh. “I am afraid I still have a long way to go, and I find I cannot force myself to apologize yet again. There is only so much I can bear in one morning, you understand.”

She laced her fingers in her lap. “I cannot make you any promises other than I will
try
to change. It is easy right now with all that has happened. But I am an old woman, set in her ways with a lot of bad habits. I am certain I will lose my temper more than once in the future and say things I should not. I will probably meddle in your lives after you marry and anger you both from time to time. I hope you will see it in your hearts to forgive me and allow me to continue living here. I would like that very much.”

Katherine bolted to her feet, appalled and sickened that her mother would put Micah in this position. “Marry? What
are
you talking about, Mama? I am most certainly
not
asking you to leave, and Mr. Jacobs
hasn’t
asked me to marry him. I don’t know where you got either idea. He must be mortified.” She turned toward Micah. Instead of embarrassment, he wore a broad smile, adding to her confusion. “Micah?”

He took her hand. “Not a bit mortified. You must have guessed I wanted to speak to your mother about us.”

“Yes, but you planned to tell her we want to court. She’s jumped to conclusions and …”

“No, dear. She has not.” He placed a tender kiss on her palm.

Her fingers closed after he removed his lips, hoping to capture the essence of his touch.

“You are the one who misunderstood. In fact, she gave me her blessing. I planned on asking you privately after the two of you had a chance to talk, but it appears this is the way it was meant to be.”

The warmth of that kiss did strange things to her heart, not to mention the wild butterflies flitting about in her stomach.

Micah dropped to one knee. “I love you, Katherine. I had no idea I could love a woman again, certainly not with the passion I feel for you. Since the day we met in the street, I haven’t been able to get your sweet face out of my mind. You’ve consumed my thoughts and even my dreams. I fought against it at first. It felt so disloyal to Emma. Then I realized she wouldn’t have wanted Zachary and me to be alone. I believe she’d have given her blessing and loved you as well. I’m hoping—no, praying—that you love me a little, and it might grow into a deeper love as time goes on. Is it possible, Katherine? Is there any hope you’d consider marrying me?”

Katherine melted, and for the first time in her life forgot to care what Mama might think. All she could do was focus on Micah’s handsome, strong face gazing up into hers. Joy exploded inside, sending a shaft of pure pleasure pulsing through her body. Wonder of wonders. He loved her.

Not only that, he’d stood up to her mother and then approached Mama, knowing she might not give her blessing. Why she had done so was still a mystery, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except this dear, wonderful man who’d boldly proclaimed his love for her, in front of her mother. Why did it all keep coming back to Mama?

She squeezed his hand and smiled, drawing him to his feet. “I would be honored to be your wife, Micah. I have known for weeks that I love you, but there were so many things that stood in our way. The children and …” She glanced toward her mother.

Micah nodded. “Mrs. Cooper will always be a part of our family. I haven’t had a mother for years, and I hope she can help fill that place in the days to come.”

A smile crept over Mama’s face, and she extended her hand. Micah reached out while keeping his other arm firmly wrapped around Katherine.

Mama breathed a sigh that sounded much like relief. “I would like that, Micah. I surely would. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for forgiving this foolish old woman and giving her another chance at happiness. Now go break the news to the children. That is, after you two have had a few minutes alone.” She quirked a brow at Micah. “I see you understand my meaning, young man.”

“Quite clearly.” He released Frances’s hand and drew Katherine toward the hall. Pausing outside the partly open door, he took her into his arms. Micah waited a heartbeat, then gathered her close and dipped his head. He kissed her gently, lingering longer than she’d expected, causing a shiver to course through her. Then he whispered in her ear, “That’s a deposit on what’s to come—if you will allow me to be so bold.”

Katherine’s heart galloped like a runaway colt, leaving her breathless. Lifting her hand she traced the firm outline of his lips with her fingertip. She gazed into his green eyes and smiled. “As long as it’s only a down payment, I think that’s quite acceptable.”

She linked her arm through his and took a step toward the stairs, then paused, stricken. Mama. The door to the bedroom was still open. She had seen it all and hadn’t raised a word of protest. Katherine thought of all the things her mother had said only minutes earlier. Shame washed over her. Her mother had poured out her heart and apologized for the first time in her memory, and Katherine hadn’t even responded.

Turning, she walked to the seated woman and knelt at her side. “Thank you for everything you said. I know it wasn’t easy for you to apologize, but I appreciate it more than you know.” Leaning over, she kissed her mother’s forehead. “I love you, Mama.” Katherine whispered the words, almost choking on the emotion swelling inside. For the first time since childhood, she meant those words.

“I love you, too, but I cannot promise to be perfect, Daughter.” Mama’s voice cracked on the last syllable.

Katherine laughed, and she brushed away a tear that threatened to spill onto her cheek. “Nor I, Mama.” She smoothed her fingertips along her mother’s hand. “But we’ll both try.”

Micah slid his arm around her shoulders. “I’m proud of you, Katherine Galloway. I can’t wait for our great adventure to begin.”

“Soon to be Katherine Jacobs, I hope,” she said with mischief. “I’m not a believer in long betrothals, so I hope you aren’t hankering to wait.”

He tugged her toward the door. “We can head to the church right now.”

A laugh sounded behind them. “At least let me recover my strength for a day or two. Besides, I believe you still need to collect on that ‘deposit,’ Katherine.”

Warmth stole into her cheeks as Mama’s laughter followed them out the door, but Katherine’s heart sang. Micah loved her, and that was more than enough.

On top of it all, Mama had done the unexpected and not only apologized, but expressed pride in her daughter. For the first time in years her mother had shown her affection. And, beyond that, approval.

The two most important people in the world besides her daughters had declared their love. Her life and hope were restored once more. No longer would she need to wish on foolish dandelion fluff blowing on the wind. No, indeed. The Lord was her strength and her fortress, and His love and Micah’s would take her over any obstacle that came her way.

… a little more …

When a delightful concert comes to an end,

the orchestra might offer an encore.

When a fine meal comes to an end,

it’s always nice to savor a bit of dessert.

When a great story comes to an end,

we think you may want to linger.

And so, we offer ...

AfterWords
—just a little something more after you

have finished a David C Cook novel.

We invite you to stay awhile in the story.

Thanks for reading!

Turn the page for ...

• Author’s Note

• Great Questions

• A Sneak Peek at Book Two:
Wishing on Buttercups

Author’s Note

Why I Wrote This Story

Blowing on Dandelions
is a work of fiction in a historical setting, but it closely parallels daily events in today’s world. It is a book driven by emotion, centering on the pain and joy of the characters. Their story consumed me and wouldn’t let go until it was written—in fact, it still hasn’t let go. I want to share with you how the story came to be, so you can understand the depth of my passion. Hopefully,
Blowing on Dandelions
will bless you as much as it has me!

It all started several years ago, when I bumped into a woman I’d met in the past. Over the course of our time together, she let slip little comments about her relationship with her mother. Let’s just say the comments were filled with pain and grief. Mama was alive, well, and still contributing to that pain and grief.

I could bear it no longer, and while giving her a hug, asked if I could pray with her that God would grant her peace and healing. Through barely contained tears, she refused. Not that she wasn’t grateful, but she couldn’t tolerate the thought of attaining some kind of peace, only to return home to the same situation and have it shattered—or worse, new shards embedded into her healed heart. I went home heartsick and unable to shake the urgency to pray for my friend. I sensed her deep level of hopelessness that her life and relationship with her mother would never change. I prayed every time her name came to mind, which happened frequently. I couldn’t forget the despair in her voice the last time we spoke.

As I asked the Lord what my next writing project should be, He gently directed me back to those memories. I knew He was showing me, over and over, that thousands of women ache with the same need—for approval, love, and acceptance, just as they are—from their mothers. He directed me to tell this story.

At the time, I started writing
Blowing on Dandelions
as contemporary women’s fiction, but after two chapters, I decided the book would be better received if set in the 1800s. It was a bigger challenge showing the depth of the heroine’s emotions, as so much was demanded during that era in regards to respect and honor toward the older members of society, especially parents. Children didn’t speak back to their elders and often repressed how they felt.

One night, while lying in bed (so many of my best ideas sprout there), I saw a picture of a woman sitting in a grassy field with dandelions in bloom, some gone to seed. She plucked one and blew on it, and the fluff drifted away on the wind. I heard this grown woman’s little-girl heart wish that she could drift off to a place where she’d never again be hurt.

I couldn’t draw from personal experience, since I have a wonderful relationship with my own mother and count her as one of my best friends, as I do my grown daughter. Nevertheless, I knew I must write this book. I’m a licensed minister (not a pastor) and lay-counselor and minister to women at our church, so I’ve had occasion to pray for and with many hurting women who have struggled and continue to struggle with such relational pain.

When I posted a request on my Facebook Reader’s Group, asking for women who had experienced a difficult childhood with their mother (extending into adult life) who were willing to fill out a survey and answer some questions, I received a flood of responses. Many of the heartbreaking answers helped flesh out the mother in this story, as well as the way in which Katherine, the daughter, responds. However, none of the events depicted in
Blowing on Dandelions
is based on any direct information shared with me, and no confidence was broken, but the input from these women was invaluable.

I also asked several women to read my manuscript when I finished my final draft. Each found multiple places where they related at a deep level. My hope is that this book—set in a historical time period with a strong romantic thread—will minister to you today, dear reader, far beyond “the story.” Whether you’re a mother who’s had a difficult time with a daughter or the daughter who’s always struggled with her mother, I believe you’ll find places where you can relate. As you step into the head and heart of the mother and daughter, I trust you’ll discover nuggets of truth from both that will open your eyes to what others experience … and that you’ll come to a place of healing and hope.

The end of this story might leave you with questions about two of the secondary characters, but don’t shut the book at the end. The AfterWords section includes great questions for individual reflection and/or group discussion, as well as a sneak peek at the first pages of Book Two,
Wishing on Buttercups,
to tantalize you in the short months you’ll have to wait between book releases.

What of my friend whose story inspired me to write this book? God has been working on her mother’s heart. She’s slowly changing, in tiny increments, and the relationship no longer sinks my friend into despair. She’s experiencing hope for the first time in her life.

Not many things in life are easy, but I truly believe there is no relationship too hard or any heart too wounded for God to mend. But, yes, it does come to a matter of free will. God won’t force anyone to change or conform to His image.

If we commit to pray for the person who has caused us pain, we can be assured that God will do His part and speak to their heart. So don’t ever think that prayer can’t work for
your
relationship or problem, even if you don’t see results quickly or tangibly. God speaks to the heart. He is a God of miracles, and He is more than enough.

Always. Forever.

Amen.

Miralee Ferrell