I think and plan by the day. Okay, sometimes by the week. so I guess it’s not great surprise when something sneaks up on me and I’m caught off guard.
Saving Gideon will be released in 35 days. 35 days!! I. Am. So. Excited. Here’s a little peek at Saving Gideon. Enjoy!
And remember–It can be pre-ordered. :D
~*~*~*~ An Excerpt ~*~*~*~
Three dogs lay in the sunshine just before the cool, shadowy entrance to the barn—a beagle, a black and white border collie, and a spotty dog she guessed was some sort of heeler. None of them moved anything save a small wag of their tails as she passed them by. Her furry friend was nowhere to be seen.
Avery stopped just inside the door, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to her new surroundings. It was dim even with the top half of the Dutch doors open on the other end. She could say one thing about the barn…it was neat. Fresh smelling, clean hay was scattered across the packed dirt floor and perfumed the air as she trod on it. And it was big, with a trussed roof and expansive loft stretching the length of the barn. And empty…except for a lone cow in one stall and Molly and Kate housed just to the left and opposite the tack room.
Okay, that was three things, but Avery was so proud of herself for remembering the term “tack room” that she wasn’t keeping count. She’d had an “uncle” over in Ft. Worth, one of her father’s associates, who had a sprawling ranch with lots of horses and such. Avery had gone out there once and toured the barn and rode a gentle mare…and she’d loved it. It was just so far out of Dallas. She often thought of going again, but there never seemed to be enough time. There was always a party to go to or a ribbon cutting ceremony or some sort of such.
He was sitting off to one side in the corner of the wide wooden stairs, so quiet and still that she almost didn’t see him at all. Or maybe the fact that he was just sitting there instead of milking a cow or throwing some hay that confused her. He seemed to be taking the slower pace of the Amish culture very seriously.
“I—” she started, unsure of what to say now that she had actually found him. “I was looking for you.”
“And you found me.” Louie V. lay at his feet as if he had found a new master in Gideon Fisher.
“Right.” Avery rocked back on her heels, enjoying the prickly feel of the straw beneath her feet. “I came to see if I could help you with anything.”
“No.” Simple man, simple answer.
“Yeah…well…okay. I just thought I could do something. I feel okay, you know. Farms are busy places…aren’t they? I mean, isn’t there always something to do, sun up to sun down and all time in between?” Why was she rambling?
“I s’pose.”
“Well, then…what can I do?”
“Nothin’.”
“Nothing?”
“It’s the Lord’s Day. We only do what’s required of us on Sundays.”
Avery nodded. “Right. I was wondering about that. Church and all. I mean, if you need to leave…” She couldn’t very well go with him dressed in her clothes or his.
She wasn’t sure, but she thought Gideon’s eyes hardened just a fraction, hiding that vulnerable light which crept into them when he thought she wasn’t looking.
“No.”
“You don’t have to stay here for me.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay,” Avery said, not really believing him. She waited for him to load up another excuse, but he didn’t.
After several tense heartbeats, she turned to go. A pile of quilts and a pillow stacked on the landing next to her host captured her attention. She didn’t know much about horses or the soft equipment they used, but these surely didn’t look like horse blankets. And she had never heard of a horse needing a pillow. For anything.
She turned to face him. “Did you sleep here last night?”
“Here?”
“Here. In the barn.”
Gideon crossed his arms over his chest, his nonchalant pose of earlier vanishing in one fluid motion. “And what’s it matter to you if’n I did?”
“Well…” What truly did it matter to her where he slept? “It seems sort of silly to me that I slept on the couch and you slept in the barn and nobody slept in that big old bed in there.”
“It’s not silly.” He stood and even with the distance between them, Avery was impressed by his formidable height. “We are not married. We are not chaperoned. The elders will be vexed enough to discover you’re here with me. Sleeping in the house…” he shrugged. “That is not something else I need on my conscience.”
“What isn’t something you need on your conscience?” Avery eyed him warily.
“Compromisin’ your good standin’.”
Was he serious? “Because I’m here with you…alone.”
Gideon nodded. “Jah.”
He was serious! And Avery was touched.
“But I’m an Englisher,” she said remembering the term she’d heard Jack use to refer to non-Amish folk.
“Jah,” Gideon agreed. “But you are still a woman.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
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