Authors: Ginger Simpson
This period of expectancy had been even more special than
the first because Joshua and Betty Jo would be welcoming their first child at
about the same time. It had been a satisfying feeling for Ellie to lend an
experienced ear to Betty Jo’s fears about being a first-time mother.
Ellie certainly never expected to be the one giving motherly
advice. Their children would grow up together and be friends, and that was a
comforting feeling.
Working for Ben, Joshua had earned enough money for a
deposit toward the house and land he had shared with his father and brother.
Jeb was still in prison and Dude had served a short time in
jail and then disappeared. Joshua never spoke of them, and out of respect,
Ellie never asked. The nightmare with Jeb was best forgotten.
Since Betty Jo had had a crush on Joshua since that fall
festival so long ago, their marriage came as no surprise. It was nice to have a
friend close by, and since he worked both spreads, Ellie saw Betty Jo often.
“Isn’t that right, Ellie?” Ben’s voice pulled her from her
reverie.
“Sorry, Pa, I guess I drifted off somewhere. Isn’t what
right?”
“That you used to fight me tooth and nail about dressing
like a lady, even when you were just a wee thing.”
“Yes, you’re right,” She chuckled. “I was a troublesome
child, and I’m sorry for that. I just hope my children aren’t as bull-headed.”
Ty and Ben’s voices blended in a duet of laughter.
Ty patted her hand.
“Me, too, darlin’, me
too.”
Ellie’s lips thinned; she drew herself up straight over her
rounded stomach. “Well, I’ve changed. Look at me. I dare say you can’t accuse
me of being a tomboy now.”
“Well, not entirely, anyhow.” Ty glanced at Ellie and then
to Ben as he bent and lifted the hem of her powder-blue dress, revealing the
comfortable worn and scuffed boots she wore beneath.
Feeling a hot flush creep into her cheeks, she smacked the
material from his hand, allowing her dress to fall back into place. She screwed
her face into a mocking smile. “I’m getting there,” she said. “Just bear with
me, I’m a slow bloomer.”
Ty chuckled and pulled her close. Even after all this time,
the feel of being in his muscular arms gave her a fluttery feeling. His warm
breath caressed the side of her face as he responded, “My darlin’, no matter
how slow you bloom, you’re always gonna be my Sparta Rose.”
About the Author
Born and raised in California, Ginger and husband Kelly, who
happens to be her greatest fan, moved to Tennessee in 2004. Overcoming culture
shock took a while, but she continues to write, finding inspiration in the vast
number of southern historical areas. She’s multi-published in several genres,
but her favorite remains historical romance with a western flavor. Besides
writing and promoting her work, she always manages to find time to enjoy her
grandson, Spencer. The cheerful and patient way he deals with his autistic
challenges inspires her to keep doing what she loves—being an author and his
Nee Nee!
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