Shadows of Ladenbrooke Manor (40 page)

And he didn’t stop kissing her until her cell phone rang out, the loud drumbeat from Ella’s call pulsing through the garden. Still, she didn’t want him to let her go.

Christopher moved away from her, his smile warm. “Good timing, I think.”

She sighed. “Welcome to parenthood,” she said before she answered the phone.

EPILOGUE

A
long line began forming outside
Bridget’s Bookshop
before dawn, little noses smudging the window as a host of girls tried to glimpse inside. The line wrapped its way around the city block as hundreds of kids and their bedraggled parents waited on a Saturday morning to get one of the first copies of
Emerald Dawn
, personally signed by the elusive L.D. Walters.

Heather sat beside Libby at a table decorated with a bright blue cloth and dozens of butterflies.

Libby finally acknowledged illustrating all of the
Butterfly Princess
books, but she refused to reveal the wordsmith behind the stories. She told the reporter from
The Telegraph
last month that she wanted to honor an author who wished to remain anonymous—and Libby honestly didn’t know, nor did she seem to care, who had taken over Walter’s role.

Behind the table, Christopher bounced their grandson Oliver on his knee in the children’s section. Oliver was barely a year old, but Christopher kept insisting that he was ready to read.

Heather thought their grandson was much more interested in the pictures.

Ella shuffled into the room with a cardboard box filled with coffee cups and lids, a vibrant-red scarf knotted around her neck. She was far too chipper for the hour as she delivered an orange mocha to Libby and black tea to everyone else.

“Do you need anything else, Aunt Libby?” she asked.

Libby took a long sip of her drink. “Wings.”

Ella winked at her. “You’re not allowed to fly away until after lunch.”

Libby smiled up at Ella, and Heather loved how her daughter seemed to lift Libby’s anxiety away with her laughter.

“All you need to do is sign your name,” Ella instructed. “My mum will do all the talking.”

“Mom—” Heather muttered, but Ella was off through the back door to distribute hot tea to those who’d been waiting for hours. Ever since Ella had discovered both of her birth parents were British, she’d been calling Heather “Mum” and reading all sorts of British-born literature to Oliver.

Before her and Christopher’s wedding last year, Heather had told her daughter the entire story—about Libby and Oliver, and Maggie and Elliot. About the courage and compassion of Walter Doyle.

Ella was thrilled to discover Libby was not only alive but also wanted to be an aunt to her. Others might think Libby was different, but Ella didn’t seem to think she was the least bit odd. The first time they met, Ella told Libby that she’d researched her name and discovered it meant “God’s Promise.” After that, they’d quickly knitted together a friendship, and Libby even seemed to enjoy playing with little Oliver.

Somehow Mrs. Westcott—Heather’s newly installed mother-in-law—had convinced Libby to live in Willow Cottage with her. The two of them seemed content in their new rhythm, Libby in her wandering and Mrs. Westcott in her renewed work escorting life into the world.

Libby eyed the front door again. “I still want to fly away.”

“Where would you go?” Heather asked.

Conflict reigned in her eyes. “I don’t know.”

Heather glanced back at Christopher and Oliver then nodded at the window. “Because there are a whole lot of people who want you right here.”

Libby nodded, her fingers twitching until Heather pulled a sketchbook out of her handbag. As Libby began to draw, her shoulders relaxed, and she started humming.

Heather opened the book on top of the stack to be signed, reading the first lines one more time, her heart full.

Heather turned back to smile at her husband, but he was much too enthralled with his grandson to see the throngs of children waiting to read his story about the real treasures in life.

Bridget pulled back the curtain on the front window before turning toward her guest. “Are you ready?”

At Libby’s slow nod, Bridget unlocked the door, and Ella helped her prop it open. In seconds, the room flooded with wide-eyed girls wanting to meet the artist of the butterfly stories.

Stories about healing and redemption. Love and friendship.

Stories about shifting shadows and an armory full of color to drive the darkness away.

Emerald Dawn rises early before her sisters wake. With her smile, she charms the sun and chases clouds away. Diamonds hide among the silvery dew. Rubies shimmer in the roses. And she tiptoes through the castle garden to find their hiding spaces.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

E
very shadow needs light, and this novel was my own exploration of God’s light shining through the shadows of life along with the beauty and power of His restoration through generations.

Libby Doyle was a character that emerged deep from within my heart as a mom of two beautiful girls who love beautiful things. Libby isn’t diagnosed in this story, but if she were born today, I believe her diagnosis would fall someplace under the umbrella of the “autism spectrum.” In the 1950s and ’60s, many doctors and psychologists believed autism was caused by emotionally distant mothers whose children then struggled socially as a result. Even if she loved her children, a mother of an autistic child was often condemned as a “refrigerator mom.”

Heartbreaking for both mother and child.

Our family has both friends and loved ones on this spectrum, and we are grateful for the medical advances and education about autism today. However, even with more understanding, children with autism, Asperger’s, or sensory processing issues are still sometimes rejected by adults and other children. The children on this spectrum are often incredibly bright and creative kids who look “normal” but struggle to communicate well or become easily frustrated or awkward in social settings.

Even with a diagnosis, guilt haunts many parents who are raising a child like Libby, and my desire through this story is to encourage moms and dads who are doing everything they can to love and instruct their children.

One of my favorite verses is 2 Corinthians 12:9: “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.”

If you are a mom or dad of a struggling child, I pray God’s grace and peace would saturate every moment you spend with your son or daughter. That His strength would prevail in weakness.

There is an overwhelming amount of information about the autism spectrum online. If you are searching for more information or resources for your child, I recommend starting with these two websites:

www.autismspeaks.org

www.myasdf.org

To research this book, I spent a week touring England and fell in love with the English countryside and all the old manor homes, the wisteria growing on gray stone walls, the rambling lanes through brilliant yellow fields, and all the kind people who collaborated to help me with directions and bus schedules and finding a proper pot of English tea. I loved all the history in Oxford and was completely enchanted by the quaint villages and elegant gardens in the Cotswolds—everywhere I turned, I could see the beauty that inspired Libby’s butterflies.

If you’d like to send me an e-mail or read more about my story, please visit my website at
www.melaniedobson.com
. I will have book club questions and pictures from my trip here as well.

Thank you for taking this journey with me.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

L
ong before the concept for this story began to develop, a host of people surrounded my husband and me with prayers and insight for our family’s unique journey. Some people simply encouraged us while other professionals and friends educated us on the challenges of sensory processing. When a parent risks sharing his or her story of successes and failures, it gives others the strength to be vulnerable—and in that vulnerability, to find hope and healing.

In my own questions and doubts, as I begged God for wisdom in my life, Libby’s story began to burn inside me. I’m grateful for each person who helped me put it onto paper.

Thank you first of all to my agent Natasha Kern for continuing to challenge, inspire, and encourage me as I wrote this story. You are an amazing mom and a blessing to each one of your clients.

Thank you to two other amazing moms—my editors Beth Adams and Jenny Baumgartner—for helping me weave together this novel. And to a wonderful group of moms who read my first drafts and gave me feedback as I wrote what I hoped would be a redemptive story—Janet Ainsworth, Kimberly Felton, Michele Heath, Ann Menke, and Jodi Stilp. I feel so blessed to have each one of you as a friend! Thank you for sharing your stories as you read mine.

To everyone who helped me plan or hosted me on my “whistle-stop” tour of England—a huge thank-you to Caroline Watts, Dominic Done, Kerstin Jeapes at Wycliffe Hall, and Bridget Baxter at The Old House in Calmsden, who went out of her way to help me find exactly what I needed in the Cotswolds. Paul and Sheila Herbert for your help before I left the States and then for traveling down to the Cotswolds to take me out for “bubble and squeak.” It was such a pleasure to spend time with both of you. And Sheila—I so appreciate your answering my many “English” questions.

A special thanks to Evelyn Hamilton, who spent an entire day showing me the Cotswolds. Evelyn helped shape this book by graciously sharing her life and stories about growing up in a manor home in the 1950s and then becoming a special education teacher in England. We ended our day at Bibury Court, ordering a pot of tea along the River Coln. She said she thought Ladenbrooke should be set in this village, and she was exactly right!

Thank you to the entire staff at Howard Books including Becky Nesbitt, Amanda Desmastus, Chris McCarthy, Brandi Lewis, and Bruce Gore for designing the gorgeous cover to depict Ladenbrooke Manor. Shannon Geddes-Keene for your help understanding the process of art restoration, Jonathan Kiernan for sharing your memories about growing up in a village along England’s coast, and occupational therapist extraordinaire Melissa Goodwin for educating me about the autism spectrum. Jodi Stilp for volunteering to photograph my dad and me for the dedication—it’s a picture I will treasure for life. And to the ladies in my writer’s group—Nicole Miller, Leslie Gould, Dawn Shipman, and Kelly Chang—thank you for all your encouragement and insight as I wrote this story.

Dobby and Carolyn Dobson—thank you for traveling across the country to help care for my family while I was in England. I am incredibly blessed to have you as my dad- and mom-in-law. To my parents, Jim and Lyn Beroth, for your consistent love and support and continuing to cheer me on as I pursue the dreams God has placed in my heart. Love you so much . . .

To my husband, Jon, and our daughters, Karlyn and Kinzel, for pouring yourself into every new book alongside me. I’m so grateful for each of your prayers and encouragement and the sacrifices you made so I could put this story about Libby onto paper.

And to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who remains the same yesterday and today and forever. I’m confident that He is weaving together a beautiful story in the lives of all who love Him—a story of hope, redemption, and ultimately transformation.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photograph © Jodi Stilp Photography

Melanie Dobson is the award-winning author of thirteen historical romance, suspense, and contemporary novels. Two of her novels won Carol Awards in 2011, and
Love Finds You in Liberty, Indiana
won Best Novel of Indiana in 2010. Melanie lives with her husband Jon and two daughters near Portland, Oregon. Visit her online at MelanieDobson.com.

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SimonandSchuster.com

authors.simonandschuster.com/Melanie-Dobson

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