Reader,
I loved writing this story. I loved writing it because it gave me a chance to explore the two sides of forgiveness, and how our choices combine with our faith to make or break our paths in this world. Lizzie went through a tragic time at the age of eighteen. She should have had the best of everything by society’s standards, and yet it all came crumbling down around her and she took the challenge and lived her faith. Moving on. Moving forward. Forgiving even though she could never forget.
But Heath carried his anger like a hankie in a back pocket. He believed without question and let anger eat at him for years.
Grudges are dreadful things. There are a lot of grudge holders in my family. I guess there are grudge holders in lots of families, but what a sadness that is, to be angry and then stay angry...for how long? Too long.
Forgiveness isn’t just a Biblical reminder. It’s sound advice. It’s the basis for so much good in the world. That doesn’t make it easy, I know...but it makes it worthwhile. A true heart is a forgiving heart.
I hope you loved this story! Thank you for reading it, and you know I love to hear from readers, so feel free to email me at [email protected] or friend me on Facebook where I love to play and pray with readers, family and friends. And if you’re wondering what’s happening, visit my website ruthloganherne.com or follow me @RuthLoganHerne on Twitter.
May you and yours be blessed in every way possible!
Ruthy
This book is dedicated to Casey...
I was blessed to help raise you and I’m absolutely delighted with the wonderful young woman you’ve become. You are a part of us...and always will be. You can’t get rid of me easily!!! Love you, kid.
Contents
This is the chance you’ve been waiting for. Hoping for. Praying for. Don’t blow it.
Lizzie Fitzgerald climbed out of an SUV more suited to her rich past than her impoverished present.
Her late uncle’s Western Idaho ranch splayed around her like an old-fashioned wagon wheel, spreading wide from the farmhouse hub. Straight south lay sheep barns forming a huge letter T. The sound of sheep and dogs rose up from beyond the barns where woolly creatures dotted rolling fields like white sprinkles on a kelly green cake.
On her left the long, curving graveled drive wound past a copse of newly leafed trees to the two-lane country road above. Behind her was a classic Western home. Two stories, wrapped in honey-brown cedar and a porch that extended across the front and down both sides. Two swings and a variety of rockers decked the porch.
“No doubt I will spend my share of time on that porch as the weather warms,” said Corrie as she stepped from the other side of the car. “What a pretty place this is,
