Books by Lauraine Snelling
LEAH’S GARDEN
The Seeds of Change
A Blessing to Cherish
UNDER NORTHERN SKIES
The Promise of Dawn
A Breath of Hope
A Season of Grace
A Song of Joy
SONG OF BLESSING
To Everything a Season
A Harvest of Hope
Streams of Mercy
From This Day Forward
An Untamed Heart
RED RIVER OF THE NORTH
An Untamed Land
A New Day Rising
A Land to Call Home
The Reapers’ Song
Tender Mercies
Blessing in Disguise
RETURN TO RED RIVER
A Dream to Follow
Believing the Dream
More Than a Dream
DAUGHTERS OF BLESSING
A Promise for Ellie
Sophie’s Dilemma
A Touch of Grace
Rebecca’s Reward
HOME TO BLESSING
A Measure of Mercy
No Distance Too Far
A Heart for Home
WILD WEST WIND
Valley of Dreams
Whispers in the Wind
A Place to Belong
DAKOTAH TREASURES
Ruby • Pearl
Opal • Amethyst
SECRET REFUGE
Daughter of Twin Oaks
Sisters of the Confederacy
The Long Way Home
A Secret Refuge 3-in-1
© 2021 by Lauraine Snelling
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
ISBN 978-0-7642-3569-6 (trade paper)
ISBN 978-0-7642-3570-2 (cloth)
ISBN 978-0-7642-3571-9 (large print)
ISBN 978-1-4934-2978-3 (ebook)
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services
Author is represented by the Books & Such Literary Agency.
I dedicate The Seeds of Change,
and the rest of the LEAH’S GARDEN series,
with great love and admiration,
to Wendy Lawton,
agent extraordinaire, deep friend, sister in Christ.
She has made my life richer on so many levels.
Another of God’s gifts to me.
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Lauraine Snelling
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
Epilogue
About the Authors
Back Ads
Cover Flaps
Back Cover
Forsythia
Because it flowers in late winter or early spring, forsythia stands for spring sun and anticipation. After the cold of winter, we are all longing for the sun, and the bright gold of first-blooming forsythia cheers us beyond measure.
Forsythia is a shrub, and branches can be easily forced by cutting them on the diagonal, placing them in a tall vase or bucket of water, and checking them daily.
Nothing says spring is almost here like the bright, cheerful forsythia.
1
LINKSBURG, OHIO
MAY 1865
I truly hate that man.”
“Lark, you know Ma said we should never hate anybody.” Larkspur’s sister Forsythia, third of the Nielsen daughters, spoke out of the side of her mouth, the way they had learned so as not to be heard by anybody else. Especially in church. Forsythia had spent a good part of her young life trying to keep her older sister out of trouble.
Larkspur refocused her attention forward, clenching her fingers in her lap to keep from leaping out of the pew.
Deacon Wiesel raised his Bible, the pages rippling from the force of his shaking. His voice nearly tore the hinges from the doors. “Women, if you are indeed following God’s Word . . .”
Larkspur watched the red of his face deepen. Perhaps a heart attack? A stroke?
“You are ordered to submit to your husband’s every utterance. God says so, right here.” The words thundered, and spittle spattered the pulpit. “If you are not married, your father is in charge. For too many of you, your mouth is your biggest sin.” Little pig eyes slit nearly shut, he stared right at Larkspur as if daring her to speak.
Lark returned stare for stare, knowing she was aggravating the deacon but no longer caring. According to him, women should never raise their eyes—only a downcast posture was proper.
Forsythia laid a gentle hand on Larkspur’s shaking knee, and Lark felt an elbow digging into her left side. Her sister Delphinium was only reminding her that were their mother here, she would be mortified by the actions of her eldest daughter. Surely she had taught her daughters better than to let their emotions show like this in church. But then, Ma had never met Deacon Wiesel or watched him drive their dear Pastor Earling to his deathbed. At least, Lark sure found it suspicious that the two men had gone for a buggy ride and only the deacon returned alive, lamenting that their pastor had died in an accident. But how had Wiesel survived a runaway horse and Pastor Earling hadn’t? And if their mother could see how the weasel took out his furies on his wife . . .
Lark glanced at Climie Wiesel, cowering in a forward pew. Bruised, bones broken, terrified he would one day abuse their dreamed-of children, Climie made excuses for her husband whenever she and Larkspur talked. But they all knew that Climie had lost that last baby and those before because the deacon beat her so badly. When Wiesel got liquored up, there was no stopping him. They all knew that, but their mother had gone on to heaven before Climie started taking refuge with the Nielsens when her husband went deep in his cups. Sadly, often not soon enough.
Something had to be done. After the accident, Deacon Wiesel had taken over, ignoring all efforts of the other church leaders to find a new pastor. Larkspur tried to shut down her mind by running through multiplication tables. It didn’t help. She tried adding columns of three numbers. Nothing helped. She raised her head when she no longer heard the weasel haranguing them with the Bible verses.
But he was staring right at her. “Women, obey your husbands, for that is the word of the Lord.”
For Forsythia’s sake, Larkspur stared down at her clenched hands. She was shaking so hard the entire pew shuddered. Thank heaven I am not married, and if all men are like you, I never will be.
At a faint thud
