for the rest of her life.
Read on for a sneak peek at THE BLESSINGS OF BABIES, Book 8 in this series, which will keep you updated with all the babies and happenings with the women at Shiloh Ridge Ranch.
If you just want to go to the next Glover cowboy romance, get THE NETWORKING OF THE NATIVITY, and you can get a sneak peek at the first two chapters of that too!
I hope you enjoyed this snowed-in romance between Dot and Ward! I love that they made the best of a tough situation and grew closer because of it.
Reviews are welcome and appreciated. They can be as long or as short as you’d like. Even a star rating is amazing and appreciated. Thanks in advance.
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Sneak Peek! The Blessing of Babies, Chapter One:
Etta Glover pulled up to her sister’s house, a police cruiser parked in the far half of the driveway. Ida’s husband, Brady, worked for the Three Rivers PD, so Etta wasn’t surprised to see the cop car.
Her heart did beat out a staccato rhythm, a fact she actually hated. She shouldn’t be nervous to visit her twin. She and Ida had been through everything together, right from the moment of their birth.
“You will not clean her house,” Etta told herself as she lifted her water bottle from the cup holder. She took a sip and replaced the bottle. “You won’t comment on her clothes. Or the twins’ clothes. Or anything. You’re here to show her unconditional love and support. That’s all. You’re here to listen to her talk about whatever she wants to talk about. Not yourself. Not your job. Nothing about you.”
Etta was trying really hard to show Ida that she wasn’t jealous, as Ida had tried to keep Etta away immediately following the birth of Johnny and Judy. She knew the deepest desires of Etta’s heart, and she hadn’t wanted Etta to see how very hard it was to have two babies.
Etta already knew becoming a mother would be phenomenally hard. She wanted it anyway, and she didn’t care if her sister had a week’s worth of dishes in the sink, baby puke on her clothes, hadn’t showered in days, or that the twins didn’t wear matching outfits.
Ida had hated the matching outfits growing up, but Etta secretly loved them.
She got out of the car and made the trek up the front sidewalk, noting that the lawn was already starting to green, though it was only mid-January. Ida’s flowerbeds waited, the earth rich and deep, and they’d planted bulbs last fall so Ida wouldn’t have to do so much this spring.
She and Etta had put up a month’s worth of freezer meals, but Ida had confessed that she’d only used a few. They just aren’t what I want to make, she’d said. Etta didn’t understand that, but she didn’t need to understand it. She wasn’t the one with a husband that worked long and odd hours, or the one trying to take care of two babies simultaneously.
Etta had learned so much in the past nine months, and one of the biggest lessons was that she didn’t need to understand everything. She hadn’t been able to walk down the aisle and marry Noah Johnson—a man she loved—and she still didn’t fully understand that.
She only knew that she couldn’t do it; that it wasn’t the right thing for her, despite loving him so much. He’d loved her too, and she sent up another prayer that the Lord would bless him with happiness and anything he needed to find it.
Etta couldn’t remember the last time she’d knocked or rang the doorbell at Ida’s, and she didn’t today either. “It’s me, Ida,” she called as she entered the house. The last time she’d come, both babies had been asleep in their swings, and Ida had been frantically scrubbing the couch to get something out of it.
She’d cried on Etta’s shoulder for a good, long while, and Etta’s whole heart had swelled with love and compassion for her sister.
Today, Ida came out of the kitchen, both twins strapped to the front of her body. She wore hope in her expression and all of her dark hair piled up on top of her head in the messiest, most elegant bun Etta had ever seen.
She grinned at her sister. “Look at you and those babies.”
“This sling has literally saved my life,” Ida said, returning the smile. “I can get so much more done, and they like being