Joachim Books

 

         Welcome to a new installment of Tuesday Tales. This week we're writing tot he word prompt "butter". I have started a new story. It's the 4th book in my Catskill Saga series and the title is "Josiah's Destiny." It's a sweet historical romance. I hope you enjoy it.

          When you finish this excerpt, jump over to read the other Tuesday Tales stories. Find them HERE. 

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May, 1791

The sun shone unusually hot for a day in early May. Josiah loosened the bandanna around his neck.

As he passed a stream, he succumbed to the lure of the water. Slipping off his shoes, he rolled up his pants and sat very still on a flat rock, dipping his feet in the coolness. Movement caught his eye. He looked up to the right and there she was, that new girl, Caroline Edwards. His gaze swept over her as she bent to pick wildflowers.

She walked with a purposeful stride, stopping to pick daisies, poppies, and butterflyweed. Although she didn’t see him, he sat close enough to see the sun make auburn locks among the dark brown gleam like strands of reddish gold.

His fingers itched to run through them and feel their soft silkiness. He shifted his weight and adjusted the bandanna. The movement caught her eye. She jumped back, her eyes wide with fear, her free hand covering her silent mouth. She froze.

 “Hey, don’t be scared. It’s only me. Josiah,” he said, standing then approaching her. He reached his hand out.

The young woman shrank back, clutching the flowers to her chest.

“I won’t hurt you. Promise,” he said. “You’re Caroline Edwards, aren’t you?”

She nodded, but her dark eyes were still large with fear. Josiah’s gaze met hers. He’d never seen prettier eyes. She immediately averted her gaze.

“Honest. Don’t be afraid.”

She took a deep breath, but still stood rooted to her spot.

“Whatcha got there?”

She stiffened like a statue. Josiah felt like a fool. He’d expected an answer even though he knew she was a mute.

“Daisies and butterflyweed?” he supplied the plant names.

She nodded.

“It’s okay for you to pick ‘em. But you shouldn’t be alone here. Sometimes coyotes come through here looking for rabbits. And there are snakes…” he said.

She jumped back, losing her grip on the flowers which fell to the ground. Her hand shook as she bent to pick them up one-by-one.

“Wait. Let me help you,” he said, bending down.

He joined her, retrieving a handful. “Why don’t I hold them, while you pick ‘em?”

She drew her eyebrows down and shot him an uncertain stare.

“I run the sawmill. I’ll be workin’ with your father. No need to be afraid of me.” I could go with you. I can keep you safe and hold the flowers. There are all kinds in this field,” he said.

She gave a nod.

“I come through here all the time on my way home from the Inn. I know a shortcut back to town. Come on,” he said, once again, offering his hand.

She stared at his long, calloused fingers, chewed her lip for a moment while she considered her position.

“You can either take your chances with me or with the snakes,” he said.

At the mention of snakes, her brows shot up and her hand flew out and gripped his hard.

That's all this week. Thanks for stopping by.