Snow Melts in Spring (28 page)

“I guess that means yes,” he said gruffly, and the audience roared.

He grabbed Mattie’s hand, and they hiked to where Dusty stood. “I have one more thing to say before I turn this microphone over.” Gil put his hat back on and motioned to the high school rodeo queen who carried a big silver buckle.

“I’d like to present this prize buckle to this weekend’s overall winning cowboy, in honor of my brother Frank, and Dusty, and to all of you who have the courage to set a course for yourself and follow your dreams despite troubles that come your way. Our next speaker is a young man many of you know well. He would have been in today’s competition had he not been involved in a drunk-driving accident last January. Please welcome Mr. Dillon Marshall.”

Applause filled the air as a Ford truck entered the arena with the Marshall family sitting in the back. When the truck stopped, Gil handed Dillon the microphone, then tipped his hat to the young boy, knowing how difficult the next few minutes would be for him. He and Mattie stood beside the truck for moral support as Dillon spoke about stupid mistakes, how much they could cost you, and the grace to go on.

“You did well, Dillon,” Gil said when the boy finished. “Let me know if you ever want to do this again, and my foundation will set you up on a high school tour across the nation.” Gil shook the boy’s hand, then pulled Mattie to his side, not wanting to let her go.

“You never gave up on your dream, either,” Gil told her and took hold of Dusty’s reins to lead him out of the arena. “You loved these hills, and you never abandoned them.”

Mattie gazed up into his eyes. “But I was wrong. I love this land, Gil, but I love you more. These hills don’t mean a thing if I don’t have you to share my life with.”

At that, Gil crooked his arm around her neck and kissed her cheek. His soul stirred at the knowledge that Mattie would be his forever — soul mates. “I’m just glad you brought me to my senses. It took a few kicks — from you, Dad, and some other people God placed in my path, but I’m finally convinced.” He twisted one of her curls around his finger and smiled.

“I don’t need to run anymore. I’ve found my home . . . right here with you.”

His dad met them at the arena gate and held his arms out for Gil and Mattie. “Does this mean I’m finally going to get me some grand-kids to teach how to rope and sit a saddle? You’d better get married quick and get crackin’. I don’t know how much time I’ve got left.” He chuckled and thumped Gil’s head with enthusiasm.

Mattie’s cheeks flushed pink.

Gil grinned as he imagined his kids riding the green hills of Charris County, on horses his family raised — strong, dependable horses with lots of heart. A knot formed in his throat as he thought of the good times ahead.

Thank you, Lord, for all you’ve given me — for all you’ve forgiven me for. I couldn’t ask for more.

Gil McCray was finally home.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

TO MY LORD AND SAVIOR, FOR QUIETLY WHISPERING IN MY EAR TO finish the book so You could do the rest. All praise and glory are Yours.

To my loving husband, Christopher, for all the love and support you gave in the development of this series and especially for agreeing to tag along on all my trips to the Flint Hills. I will forever remember and cherish those days in my heart.

To my lovely daughters, Samantha, Maggie, and Abigail, for listening to me go on and on about my characters and for offering your encouragement and hugs. I treasure your hugs.

To Beth Jusino, for encouraging me to follow my passion for this book and make it bigger. To Rachelle Gardner, at WordServe Literary, for taking on where Beth left off. A huge thank-you for believing in my work and for making me your client. You are the best agent a girl could have!

To Sue Brower, who believed in this story enough to try one more time! And to the many editors, sales, and marketing people at Zondervan. Thank you for your hard work in making this series so beautiful.

To my critique partners, for their help in making this book better, always better. To Tamera Alexander, Beth Goddard, Lisa Harris, Cora Jenson, Jeanne Leach — thank you ladies for being there at the beginning and for being such wonderful friends. Thanks also to Carole Brown, Peg Phifer, and Christy Miller. A special thank-you to my local writer’s group, CWF, and especially to Lisa Goins for being my personal cheerleader.

To the many professionals who gave their time and help. To Doctors of Veterinarian Medicine, Scott Baldwin, Paul Cotterill, Carol Hines, and Tracy Hucke; to Jim and Joan Donahue for offering their help and allowing us to stay at the Clover Cliff; to Dr. Jim Hoy for his expertise on the Flint Hills and for teaching the Flint Hills Folklife class at ESU where my passion for the Flint Hills began; to Jenny Cary and Georgiana Daniels for their help with the football scenes.

To the many people who prayed with me and for me during this long road to publication. I could never list all your names, but you know who you are. To my Kansas writing friends Judith Miller, Deborah Raney, and Kim Vogel-Sawyer, you ladies are terrific! To the members at Good Shepherd Church, thank you for your love and support and for always being there for me.

Lastly, thank you, Gayle Ballard, for her help in promotion assistance on the tail end of this project.

May God bless you all,

Deborah

MATTIE’S

SNICKERDOODLES

1 cup shortening

1 1/2 cups sugar

2 eggs

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons cream of tartar

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 Tablespoons sugar & 2 teaspoons cinnamon mixed together in small bowl

In large bowl cream together shortening, sugar, and eggs. In a separate bowl sift together flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt. Add to creamed mixture. Chill dough for 30 minutes. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Roll into walnut-size balls. Roll balls into the sugar and cinnamon mixture. Place two inches apart on greased baking sheet and bake for 8–10 minutes until lightly browned but still soft. These cookies puff up first then flatten out with crinkled tops. Enjoy!

Deborah would love to hear from you!

Feel free to write her at [email protected] or:

Deborah Vogts

PO Box 232

Erie, KS 66733

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