Obedience is better than sacrifice…and trumps romance, no matter how sweet.

Profound loneliness propels a childless widow west with the idea of choosing an orphan to share her life. On the way, a fellow traveler takes her by surprise. She never dreams, is unprepared, doesn’t need another man, but can’t get him out of her head…or heart. He’s so perfect—every bit the one she’d searched for as a young woman—except his mistrust of God has erected a wall she cannot breach.

Marcus Ford blames God and struggles for peace after losing his wife and baby. Not once has he considered another woman could be the answer, but the widow is like none other he’s ever met. He falls hard, but plans are taking him east. Hope dashed sends two hearts into the pit. If only Ford could forgive God or the widow ease up on her adamant resolve.

Will God’s mercy shine a beacon in the fog of despair and prove sufficient to heal their souls?

Hillstrom. I shudder at the word, Hillstrom. She is my arch rival, my long-time frenemy. Have I introduced myself yet? How rude. I am Betsy Buttersworth, a sticky problem for Anne Hillstrom, the heroine of Vicki Vass’ antique hunting series. Unwittingly I often help Anne solve mysteries.

I wouldn’t say I am a constant problem for Anne. I can’t help it if we share the same taste in vintage clothes, antique china and even men. We are constantly at odds, and I don’t know why. When we were younger, we were good friends. We grew up side by side, sharing clothes, playing games, even staging plays.

Our friendship changed when we became older and competed for men. And CC, our other friend, always stood by Anne’s side, standing guard, protecting her from me. It is not fair. I am the glue of the trio.

I try to hold back, to not be mean but it is as if I can’t help myself. Whenever Anne is in the room, I am spurred to be competitive, to trade insults, to behave badly. Can I help if I have more money than Anne? If I can buy what I want without worrying? If I can take care of myself? It all comes from marrying well. That is the key to everything. My first husband left me quite well provided for. This enables me to sit back and do what I want – a little shopping, a lot of lunches and of course, book club.

Anne scoffs at my book club. We do actually read the book upon occasion. Most recently, we read Key to a Murder, the latest book in the Antique Hunters Mystery Series. I have to say I thought my part was played very well in this book. Vicki did a marvelous job, capturing my personality and sharing it with her readers.

I am turning around. I mean to turn a new leaf, to address my problems with Anne as an adult but somehow when we are together I can’t help myself. I find myself behaving badly. Recently I invited Anne to give a talk on her antique hunting to my ladies’ club. She had been away on a buying trip so I thought she could share what she learned. I thought that was very generous of me to allow her the opportunity.

She seized that opportunity to share details of her upcoming Christmas sale at her store, Great-Aunt Sybil’s Attic. I’m not sure I would call that hodgepodge a store, most of its merchandise is remnants from her overflowing garage and storage lockers. Anne has never met an antique she doesn’t like. I tend to be slightly more selective, preferring to carefully select my treasures from a curated list of high-end names such as Limoges, Tiffany, Sevres and of course, Baccarat.

Her store does bring customers to my chocolate café, which I conveniently located next door. I don’t need to run a shop, mind you. I wanted to have something to do with my free time and only visit when I have nothing better to do. Right now, I have to run, I have a meeting with the local chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution. TaTa. . .