Category: Historical Novels
Sixty-six last April, and, though his sandy red hair had merely faded instead of turning gray, there were twinges in his knees that reminded him of too many miles in the saddle, in cold rain and sleet, too many hours standing at his writing table, too much tension, not enough...
I left her too much alone, he told himself as he watched the fire burn low. She had been ill so often, weak and sorrowful because of the loss of three children, two stillborn, w...
2. Part 2“No, you can’t,” insisted young Cornelia, “because I’m going to do it for you. Ellen’s fetching some wool socks she knit—and, Grandpa, one is too long but please don’t mention it.”
1. Part 1Sixty-six last April, and, though his sandy red hair had merely faded instead of turning gray, there were twinges in his knees that reminded him of too many miles in the saddle,...
4. Part 4“I,” he said, “have lived, Patsy, like a man snatched up by a whirlwind. That is why I am so disassociated from simple things like celebrating Christmas. Give me time to adjust...