(An excerpt from the book)
---------
“You never answered my question. How long was I trapped in my prison?” he asked.

“Aye. I did answer. I said I din’t ken how long ye’re in there. That’s an answer,” Elijah answered, with irritation in his voice.

“Ah, I suppose that was an answer,” the other one sighed. “I will not tell you exactly, but it was for many years. Do you know how old that clock is?” Elijah did not know.

“More than your lifetime. Years more. I was imprisoned in its first year.”

That struck Elijah’s curiosity, and he wondered how the being he was speaking with came to be imprisoned inside. “What fell fortune caused ye t’ be locked inside? If I may ask.” And he did ask.

“I am not free to tell you,” the other one answered. “But I am now grateful to be free. I owe you a gratitude for my release.”

For a space of some seconds, he looked straight at Elijah while saying nothing. Then a strange grin began, and it grew on his round face. Then he spoke.

“I know. You believe that I owe you three wishes in return for your setting me free. Well? Is that not the law of the genie? Pray tell, your three wishes, Sir.”

Elijah briefly opened his mouth to speak, but no thoughts came to him to speak. Surely the old fables and stories were not true.

Genies were the product of the story tellers, and nothing more. The thing he held on his lap was a clock. It was not a magic lamp.

It was not even a lamp. Surely it was not magic. It was merely a clock. A clock in the shape of a castle. And it was not made of precious materials. Rather it was simply brass. And common brass at that.

(From 'Mister Weatherspoon's Unfortunate Clock')

What's Inside The Books

(An excerpt from the book)
----------
At six o’clock in the evening, the telephone in the parlour of Vandergriff home rang. It rang four times before Rachael could reach it. The voice on the other end of the line was one which she did not recognize.

“Mrs. Vandergriff. My name is Penelope. I’m a friend of Sarah’s. Sarah has been injured in an accident. She’s in the hospital in Wayfield. She is very bad. Pray. Pray very hard! And come as quickly as you can.”

And Rachael did pray. She prayed very hard. As she sat on the train next to her husband, as the steam pushed the engine up ahead, forward at a fast pace, she gripped tight to Martin’s hand. And she prayed.

And in other homes, friends joined in the prayer. Anna Wimberly in her home. And Ann Lancaster in her home. Rachael had called them prior to leaving for the railroad station. They too were joining in with Rachael’s prayers.

Martin sat silently next to her, but he too prayed. Why couldn’t the engine move faster, he asked himself? Of course, the steam was being produced as fast as it could be produced. The pistons in the cylinders were pounding back and forth as fast as they could be pounding. The driver wheels were spinning as fast as they could spin.

But it should be moving faster. It would be hours before they would reach Wayfield. Then the taxi ride from the railroad station to the hospital would take its own time. And would his daughter be alive once they arrived at the hospital?

He gripped his wife’s hand tighter. “It’s okay, Mother. She’s going to be fine. She will be fine. Aye, she will. I know it.”

“I’m so frightened,” Rachael replied, her voice choking. “I’m so frightened.”

“Faith, Mother,” he replied. “Remember, faith. God made promises. Remember what…” He struggled to find the next words to say. “God answers prayer, you know. Pray, Mother. Pray. God will answer.”

“I am, Dear,” she answered. “You are a good man, Martin. A good man. I am so blessed.” She squeezed his hand in return. “Do you really believe she will be okay?”

“Mother, I can only trust, or put my trust, my faith you know, in God.” The words came awkwardly, but she knew what he meant.

-------

This is the concluding novel in the 'Legacy of Abigail' series. The previous three books in the series are:

A Ship Called Abigail

Voyage of Abigail

When Love Finds Hannah

The author hopes that you will read the entire series, and if you do, please share your recommendations to your fellow readers.

(From 'An Empty Quiet Place')

“You promised to tell me about the other Martha,” Hannah begged.

“Oh yes,” the old woman replied. A deep yawn took what seemed to be a full minute to clear. She removed her hand from before her mouth and smiled. “Mary and Martha were sisters. Did I mention that?”

“Aye, you did,” Hannah said to herself, but not out loud.

“Jesus came to visit them one day, as he often did when he passed that way. They were good friends. And they had a brother. Did I mention that they did? His name was Lazarus.” She grew silent as though recounting to herself some aspect of the story.

“You know, I don’t think Lazarus lived with them. Or maybe he was working that day and not at home. But Martha was busy in the kitchen preparing supper. So maybe they expected Lazarus home later. Goodness. I wonder if Lazarus was married. Where was his wife that day?

“But, it only mentions the two sisters in this story. Mary and Martha.”

Hannah wondered if she would ever hear the rest of the story. How the old lady did ramble, and…

“I’m thirsty again, Dearie. Do you mind?"

Once again, Hannah provided Martha with a glass of iced water and a straw.

“I think I will sleep now, Dearie,” the old woman said in a quiet voice. “Tell me, what is your name again?”

(From 'When Love Finds Hannah')

On the front porch of the Vandergriff home, they prepared to say their good nights. Sarah, came near to Bryan. “Good to see you again,” she whispered, close to him as her hand touched his. “Let’s spend some time together soon. Just like old times.”

She was close enough to him to smell the perfume in her hair. It caused that familiar feeling to well up within him. Then, unannounced, she threw her arms around his neck, and drew her body close against him. And she placed a kiss on his cheek. But it was for only a moment. She did not allow the embrace to linger, but drew away, and with a “good night” she withdrew into the house.

Bryan stood transfixed. He relished the feeling of the embrace. But he knew that it was nothing more than a casual gesture from her. Or worse. A tease. Sarah had been like that. Letting him hold her hand one day and the next, pretending that he was of no account to her. Building hope within him today. And tomorrow, dashing that hope to the ground.

-------

“It was good to see Bryan again,” Rachael stated matter of factually, though her meaning was more than that. Sarah did not reply.

“He looks good. Don’t you think?” she continued.

“He does, Mum.”

Rachael turned to face her daughter. “Why don’t you give him a chance, Dear? He’s got the makings of a good man.”

“We’ve discussed this before, Mum. He is a nice chap. A good one too. And I feel that he’s one of my best chums. If not the best. But he’s simply not my type. For romance, that is.”

“Do you really know what your type is? Or what you’re really looking for in a man? I’m sorry, Dear. It’s really not my business.

“But on the other hand, your welfare and your happiness are my business. There are good men and then there are other men. I pray that you know the difference. And don’t have to learn it the hard way.”

“Mum, you raised me right. I know the difference.”

“I pray that is true,” her mother replied. “And if my raisin’ means anything to you, stop treating Bryan like trash.”

“What do you mean? I’m not treating him like trash. When have I treated him badly?”

“You just did. Out there on the front porch. You did.”

(From 'An Empty Quiet Place')

“It’s hopeless, Doctor Forth,” the nurse sighed. “Doctor Throckmorton, and you know how good a doctor he is, feels that the condition is hopeless. He has gone off shift. But if you like, I can summon him to talk to you and give you his opinion.”

“That won’t be necessary right now, Agnes,” Anna replied. “I’ll go have a look myself. Come with me.”

She arose from her desk and with the patient’s file in hand, with Agnes tagging behind, she walked quickly to the Infant Critical Care Unit.

t did not take her long to reach the same conclusion as the previous physician. The child was dying.

She left the bedside and hurried to the waiting room down the hall where sat a young man and woman. There was no one else in the room at that time so she knew…

The woman looked to be about twenty-two. With a pale complexion now even whiter than was healthy, she stared ahead with hollow eyes, the likes of which Anna had seen before. And they always spoke the same message.

The young mother was beyond the ability to shed tears. That was the state of mind, Anna in her professional experience saw. It cut her deeply in her heart. All of the tears the young mother had to shed; she already had shed. She had no more tears left.

The young man, obviously the father, had a frightened look on his face which caused his black eyes to dart about the room, seeing things which only his tormented mind could see.

(from 'A Ship Called Abigail')

(An excerpt from the book)
-------
So far the evening had been quiet. No voices or other strangeness came to him. “Jonathan,” he said to himself, but aloud, “I wonder if it all really is something in your own mind.”

“Jonathan?” It was the voice of a woman. His heart jumped within his chest.

Then the question was repeated. “Jonathan? Where?” The tone of the inquiry was frantic.

He sat up, his heart frozen and seemingly, in mid beat. But now the beating pounded in his ears.

He fumbled for the lamp, and with a match found by his fingers on the table, even as his hands trembled, he managed to light the lamp. In the light he searched the room with his eyes racing from corner to corner. There was nothing to be seen.

“Who’s here?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Who?” from the voice again. “Jonathan?”

“He’s not here,” Robert answered, his voice trembling. Jonathan was right. Now he knew it. Jonathan was not mad. Nor was he suffering from delusions.

Then the wailing began. Piteous, it was to hear. It was very much the sound of someone in great sorrow.

“Stop!” Robert shouted. “Be gone with you, whatever you are!”

“Whatever I am?” the voice asked.

“Whatever, or whoever you are,” Robert answered.

“Whoever I am?” the voice asked.

The feeling of fingers brushed on his face, rubbing up and down his cheeks and pressing fingertips against his eyelids. The feeling drove him to flay his hands before his face. But he touched nothing, and the movement of the fingers continued.

(from 'Miss Penny's Wedding Dress')

“What will our house look like?” she asked as both of her hands were now buried deep in a bowl of newly mixed flour and water, mixing it into bread dough.

“I don’t know for sure,” he answered. “I know that it will be pretty. Both on the inside and on the outside. Maybe it will be painted white. Or maybe not. I don’t know.”

“Purple, maybe?” she asked. “I like the colour purple. What do you think, my Love?”

“No!” he exclaimed. He did not know if she was taunting him with that colour suggestion, or if perhaps she was serious. He did not want to hurt her feelings, if her suggestion had been made in sincerity. “Do you think purple is a good colour for a house?”

“I don’t know. I have never seen a purple house,” she answered.

“Let’s decide on the colour later,” he suggested. “It will be pretty,” she mused. “Many rooms, perhaps?”

“Not too many. Many rooms means many to clean and to decorate.”

“But if we have many babies…” she said, with the promise in her words.

“We have to start with one,” he said. “How many do you want?”

“With you, many. Many babies.” And then she laughed. “But we will start with one."

He leaned across the table and kissed her. “I really do love you,” he stated. “I'm happy I married you.”

“And I too am happy you married me,” she answered, kissing him again. “But now we must bake the bread. And I think we need more than bread for dinner today. Aye?”

(from 'Voyage of Abigail')

A few excerpts from some of the books