Kathleen Morgan - Daughter of Joy

DAUGHTER of JOY

Other books by Kathleen Morgan

Brides of Culdee Creek Series

Daughter of Joy

Woman of Grace

Lady of Light

Child of Promise

Culdee Creek Christmas

All Good Gifts

The Christkindls Gift

Guardians of Gadiel Series

Giver of Roses

These Highland Hills Series

Child of the Mist

Wings of Morning

DAUGHTER of JOY

BRIDES OF CULDEE CREEK BOOK ONE

KATHLEEN

MORGAN

1999, 2007 by Kathleen Morgan

Published by Fleming H. Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, M I 49516-6287

New paperback edition published 2007

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansfor example, electronic, photocopy, recordingwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Morgan, Kathleen, 1950

Daughter of joy / Kathleen Morgan.

p. cm.(Brides of Culdee Creek: bk. 1)

ISBN 10: 0-8007-5718-1 (paper)

ISBN 978-0-8007-5718-2 (paper)

I. Title. I I. Series: Morgan, Kathleen, 1950Brides of Culdee

Creek; bk. 1.

PS3563.08647D38 1999

813'.54dc21 99-25264

For Beth Anne, bookseller extraordinaire,
and the dearest of friends.
Youve always been there,
encouraging and rooting for me,
even in my darkest moments.

And for Sean always, always, for Sean.

Table of Contents

Daughter of Joy wasnt an easy book to write. The idea for this book was conceived in 1997, about a year after my youngest son died unexpectedly of cancer. It was a time when, not surprisingly, I was contemplating the direction of my life and its purpose.

Though fervent in my Christian faith when a youngster, over the years I became lukewarm at best. My sons death brought me back to God. There are still times, even now, when all I can do is hang on to Him with all my might and be grateful for that. At other times, though, I cannot help but marvel at how far Ive come and how blessed I am. Grieving, I think, is a lot like thata wild, agonizing, bewildering, yet sometimes glorious ride into the deeper, more essential aspects of self and humanity. It is also, I believe, a ride with no end in sight.

So what does this have to do with Daughter of Joy? Writing has always been a journey for me. I strive to portray my characters as authentic human beings, using personal insights and resources to draw on the deep, basic core of my own humanitygood and bad. That, I truly believe, lends realism and heart to my writing. My own struggle with issues of grief, loss, and acceptance of Gods will, and my renewed search for a deeper, more spiritual and lasting meaning to life were all catalysts for Daughter of Joy.

As I wrote I found inspiration from a line in a condolence card I received: For every joy that passes, something beautiful remains. That poem became a beacon of hope for me, especially in those early weeks and months after my sons death. It beckoned me ever onward in my quest to survive and, finally, to begin to heal.

I knew Gods willand lovefor me was somehow tied up in that simple little verse. I clung to it for comfort. I held it close, examining its every facet. Yet as the weeks, months, then years began to pass, I came to realize I would never fully plumb the depths of its meaningat least not in this life. Its meaning would always lead me forward, though, providing direction for the rest of my days.

Joy Its a journey we all embark upon from the first moment we draw breath. We search so avidly for it. We cannot help it; its inherent in our nature. Yet no matter how hard we strive, our joy can never truly be complete until we find it in the Lord.

Daughter of Joy is the story of one womansand mansjourney back to that true meaning and purpose in life. It is, in many ways, my story as well. Perhaps there are threads of your own storyand journeywoven there, too.

ABIGAIL

Source of Joy

Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; and uphold me
with thy free spirit.

Psalm 51:12

The plains east of Colorado
Springs, Colorado, October 1895

Speak, LORD; for thy servant heareth.

1 Samuel 3:9

I cant help it! Ive held my tongue as long as I dare. Please, Abby. Take a bit more time and reconsider.

With an affectionate smile, Abigail Stanton glanced at the woman sitting beside her. Then, lightly flicking the buggy whip over the horses back, she urged Elsie, her sister-in-laws Morgan mare, to quicken her lagging pace. As the horse moved out, flurries of dust swirled in the air, muting for a moment the days crisp, vibrant fall colors.

Ive hidden away long enough, Nelly. Abby sighed. Its time to set aside my selfish needs and unreasoning fears. Time to venture back into the world, into life, if only with this first, most tentative of steps.

Well, perhaps so, Nelly agreed grudgingly, folding her hands primly in her lap. Theres no rush, though, is there? No reason to accept the first position offered you? Especially not this one. She rolled her eyes, her dark blond lashes fluttering in horror. Heavens above! The tales Ive heard about that man and his family!

I havent accepted anything yet, Abby murmured in gentle correction, flicking the buggy whip once again, as Elsie veered toward a succulent patch of grass growing along the roadside in a protected cranny of rocks. This is only an interview. We must both first decide if we even suit each other.

Hes a heathen, Abby! He never even sets foot inside church! Warming to her tale, Nelly clenched her fist and pounded her knee in emphasis. Why, its said his wife hated him so much she ran away, leaving behind her young son. Then, no sooner was she out the door, he took in an Indian squaw and had a half-breed daughter. To top it off, just this past spring, the mans son ran away. Seems he couldnt stomach his father either.

Lets not forgot to add, Abby offered with a wry grin and chuckle, all the while keeping her gaze riveted on the road ahead, that none of his former housekeepers have ever lasted more than six months. And that Conor MacKay is reputedly the most unpleasant, evil-tempered man in these parts.

Well, those are the rumors about him. Nelly turned in the buggy seat more fully to face her. Besides, what of all your fine plans? What of Thomass mission for penniless outcasts? Just because your husband is gone doesnt mean you have to turn your back on all his hopes and dreams. You used to be so certain the mission was Gods will for you. Isnt it still?

Just then the right buggy wheel hit a large rock in the road. The conveyance bounced into the air, then slammed down again, unseating Nelly. With a squawk, she grabbed for the arm rest and shoved her black straw hatwhich had slid down to cover her eyesback firmly on her head.

Well, isnt it? she stubbornly prodded through gritted teeth, resettling herself more securely on the seat. Youve suffered greatly in the loss of your husband and son, Abby, but surely the Lord hasnt changed His mind or His plans for you.