An Unexpected Blessing: A Collection of Short Stories

By Amber E. Nease

A great read for a weekend afternoon, a commute on a train, or while sitting in an airport. Follow the stories of six women and their families as they experience hope, love, reconciliation, compassion, and new life.

An Unexpected Blessing: Katie's small act of hospitality brings hope into her grim circumstances during the Great Depression.

The Orphan and the Widow: Clarissa's widowhood changes from sadness to joy when she turns from looking at her own need to helping someone else.

A Cup of Cold Water: Elizabeth finds compassion for her enemy through the memory of her great-grandmother's actions.

The Sun Will Rise Again: Margaret's life feels like a series of heartaches until she turns to find hope in a new way of living.

A More Excellent Way: Abigail's family was torn apart by the Civil War, but she decides the day has come for reconciliation.

My Father's Will: Christina, facing important choices about her future, draws wisdom from her grandmother's experiences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amber E. Nease
• Release date: Dec 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370501823

Amber E. Nease

I have been writing since I was a child, and have composed a variety of poems, songs, short stories, books, plays, and devotional pieces over the years. As a Christian, I see writing as a gift God has given me to share His love with others. Besides writing, I enjoy photography, playing guitar and singing, researching history and my genealogy, painting, cooking, and spending time with family and friends. My latest project has been illustrating the children's book, "Ding-Dong Bella", which is currently available (in print only) on Amazon.com. My next book is a short novel that is a spinoff of the "A Greater Inheritance" series; I am currently in the research and story development phase for this project. I will post updates on this book as I come closer to completing it. I also publish articles, devotionals, recipes, and poetry at hubpages.com (see the link listed below to visit my page on the site).

Book preview

An Unexpected Blessing:

A Collection of Short Stories

By Amber E. Nease

A More Excellent Way (originally published as A Family Reconciled on Hubpages.com) and An Unexpected Blessing Copyright © 2011 Amber E. Nease.

A Cup of Cold Water, The Sun Will Rise Again, The Orphan and the Widow, and My Father’s Will Copyright © 2017 Amber E. Nease.

All rights reserved.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. This ebook may not be reproduced and distributed in any form for commercial or non-commercial purposes, either in whole or in part. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

Dedicated to my Saviour and King, Jesus, who has brought me blessings unimaginable. Also in memory of my dear grandmothers, who are both now sitting at Jesus’ feet in glory.

Table of Contents

An Unexpected Blessing

The Orphan and the Widow

A Cup of Cold Water

The Sun Will Rise Again

A More Excellent Way

My Father’s Will

A Note from the Author

An Unexpected Blessing

Oh, come on! Katie hissed at the old pump stationed next to her kitchen basin. The piece of iron machinery creaked and groaned as she worked its handle up and down vigorously. Still no water. Don't you dare give out on me now. We can't afford to replace you yet. Katie's husband, Zack, had promised to replace the aged pump—along with a dozen other things on their farm—just as soon as they got ahead. The problem was that they never seemed to be able to get ahead; instead, they were always about two steps behind financially. They had bought the little farm as newlyweds a mere four months before the beginning of the Depression. Now, four years later, they were barely able to hold on to the place. Every mortgage payment had to be scraped together by any means possible. This meant there was little left over for anything other than the necessities of life. Still, Katie dreamed of the day when she would have real indoor plumbing, complete with a faucet in the kitchen and a bathroom.

Finally! Katie exclaimed as water came trickling down the spout and into the basin. She was not usually this short-tempered, even with the pump; her foul mood that day could be attributed in part to the weather. It was a hot August day, with the kind of humidity that laid over the land like an oppressive blanket. Katie was so hot she had decided she was absolutely not going to work over a blazing cook stove to make supper. It would be a cold meal tonight. Hence the potato salad that was presently chilling in the icebox, which would be served later with ham sandwiches. Some husbands would not have been pleased with the simple fare, but Zack was not the sort to complain. Not that Katie was a prize-winning cook in the first place. There had been more than one supper gone awry for which she had had to apologize to Zack. He would always just smile at her in return and say, I married you because I love you, Katie, not because you were a great cook. You did your best, so let's give thanks and eat.

Dear Zack. Thinking of him brought a happy expression to her flushed face as she washed the dishes dirtied by her salad preparations. God had certainly blessed her with a good husband. He was a hard-working, kindhearted man who did his best to provide for them. Their farm nestled in the rolling hills of mid-Missouri had done well enough the first three years under his hand. This year, however, things had not gone well, even with his prudent management. First, their small herd of cattle had suffered losses during the harsh winter. Now the crops were suffering under the heat of a dry summer. Even Katie's vegetable garden was looking rather pitiful at this point. Katie saw new lines appearing on Zack's sun-darkened face, lines that did not belong on the face of a man not yet thirty. As the time of harvest grew near, they both would stand by the fields and earnestly pray for a better yield than it seemed like they were going to get. They desperately needed a decent harvest, and a decent price at the market for that harvest. Even though Zack did not say it, Katie knew they were dangerously close to losing the place. So close, in fact, that she wondered if a good crop would even pull them through. Well, Lord, she sighed, placing the last item washed in the drainboard, You know. Please help us. You know how I hate to see Zack looking so careworn.

The dishes done, Katie emptied the basin. She gazed out the kitchen window and noticed a faint breeze stirring the poplars in the yard. Might be a pleasant time to go collect the wash, she determined. Even the slightest movement of the air would be nice right then. Heading out the screen door to the back porch, Katie picked up a large basket there and walked out to the clothesline. After collecting the assortment of shirts, towels, overalls, dresses, and undergarments, she took the basket to the kitchen. She plunked it down by the ironing board for later. It would be a more bearable task after supper.

Katie then took up a sock that needed darning and went out to the front porch of the white-washed farmhouse. Having settled herself on the porch swing, she set to work on the sock. One of her feet kept the swing rocking back and forth with a gentle motion. Katie could hear the sound of the cows lowing in the distance. One of the tabby barn cats joined her on the porch, settling on the railing near the swing. A quiet, listless afternoon it was indeed. The stillness made Katie wish for company. Her green eyes flicked up at the road in a subconscious manner, as if she could will someone to come and sit with her. Her head went all the way up with surprise when she realized there really was someone on the road. She peered curiously into the heat haze, trying to recognize the lone figure treading down the dirt track that swept past the farm.

Katie quickly realized it was no one she had ever seen before. The stranger appeared to be an older woman carrying a carpetbag. Katie set aside the sock and got up to go down to the gate. It was a miserable day to be walking down the road like that. She would see if the woman would like to come in and sit a spell.

Good afternoon, Katie called out as the woman drew nearer to her.

Good afternoon, the old woman replied, coming over to Katie.

I saw you out here and thought you might like to come rest for a moment and have some refreshment, Katie offered. It's an awfully hot day for traveling.

That it is, dearie. Thank-you for your kindness. The aged stranger entered the gate Katie held open for her.

I am Mrs. Katie Jennings, Katie introduced herself, sticking out a hand in greeting.

Mrs. Margaret Thompson. The woman shook Katie's hand with her weathered one. Mrs. Thompson was short and slightly stooped. Her neat, threadbare clothes were dusty from her journey.

Please come on inside, Mrs. Thompson. Katie led the way into the kitchen. Have a seat.

Mrs. Thompson complied, settling down into one of the ladder-backed kitchen chairs. She set her carpetbag on the floor beside her feet.

Would you like some tea? Or, if you are too hot for that, I have some buttermilk. Katie offered, falling into the role of hostess.

As odd as it sounds on a day like this, a cup of tea sounds lovely, thank-you, Mrs. Thompson answered.

All right, tea it is. Katie picked up the kettle sitting on the back of the iron stove and took it to the sink to fill it. She cringed when the pump gave her its usual trouble. She hardly wanted to be huffing and puffing away with a guest sitting there. Eventually she got enough water out of it to fill the kettle. She stirred up the fire and then set the kettle on the hot plate. She measured tea leaves into the teapot, got out two teacups and saucers, put cookies on a plate, and then set everything on the table.

Seems that poor old pump has about had it, Mrs. Thompson commented when Katie sat down with her while waiting for the water to boil.

Unfortunately, yes, Katie said, tucking a stray blond hair back behind her ear. The money to replace it is always needed for other things, however.

A common problem, especially these days, I know.

The sooner this Depression ends, the better. My poor husband is going to work himself to death if it goes on too much longer.

Is he out in the fields right now?

Katie nodded. Yes.

It has been dry this year.

And our crops show it.

At least that has not been the case in California. Mrs. Thompson remarked.

Is that where you are going?

Yes, once I reach Clinton, I am going to board a train and head west to join my sister's family. I have no one left here, and am tired of living alone.

Was there not at least a neighbor who could drive you to the station? Katie inquired, concerned that the lady would wear herself out before reaching Clinton.

There was, but I wanted to walk through these hills one last time. I grew up around here, and the country is so dear to me. I doubt I shall ever see Missouri again. A faraway expression came over Mrs. Thompson's wrinkled face.

Where was home for you?

Back up the road a piece, close to Alberta.

That explained why Katie had never met her before. Katie and Zack had grown up in and around the nearby town of Clinton, and Katie had rarely gone to the hamlet of Alberta. These musings passed through Katie's mind as she rose to go fetch the tea kettle, which had begun to whistle its readiness to her. She brought it back to the table and poured the steaming water over the leaves in the teapot. Setting the kettle back on the stove, she returned to her seat. You know, my husband, or even I, could drive you the rest of the way into Clinton. It would certainly be no trouble.

Oh, no, Mrs. Jennings, I would not ask that of either of you. Mrs. Thompson refused the suggestion with a small wave of her hand. Besides, I will get to Clinton well before dark. It is not that much further down the road from here. Thank-you very much for offering, though.

You are welcome.

Are you from around here, Mrs. Jennings?

I grew up in Clinton. My Pa owns a feed store there, Katie answered, pouring tea into Mrs. Thompson's cup, and then hers. Cream or sugar?

Just one lump of sugar, please, thank-you. Mrs. Thompson received the china cup that Katie passed over to her. She also picked up a sugar cookie from the plate on the table and took a bite from it. My, this is an excellent cookie.

Thank-you, Katie said, a bit embarrassed. They're my Ma's recipe. It's about the only thing I can make really well.

I am sure not.

It's true. My cooking is just fair most of the time, and occasionally not edible.

Well, you want to know a little secret? Mrs. Thompson smiled conspiratorially. I spent over forty years fixing meals, and never did become a very good cook. So do not worry; you are not the first woman who hasn't mastered the kitchen arts.

Katie gave a small laugh. That does make me feel better, knowing I am not the only one. I guess everyone always expected me to be able to cook like my Ma can. Things always turn out better when I'm under her supervision than when I make them on my own.

Well, you did seem to master the cookies.

Yes. They are Zack's favorite kind, so that is part of the reason.

You are worried about him, aren't you, Mrs. Jennings?

About my husband?

Yes.

Why do you ask?

A concerned look has come to your face twice when mentioning him. It made me wonder.

Katie was surprised by the old woman's perceptiveness. "I am