Between Heaven and Texas

Ties That Bind
(Cobbled Court Quilts #5)

 

Threading the Needle
(Cobbled Court Quilts #4)

 

A Thread So Thin
(Cobbled Court Quilts #3)

 

A Thread of Truth
(Cobbled Court Quilts #2)

 

A Single Thread
(Cobbled Court Quilts #1)

 

 

 

 

“The Presents of Angels” in
Snow Angels

 

“A High-Kicking Christmas” in
Comfort and Joy

 

 

 

Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

MARIE BOSTWICK

KENSINGTON BOOKS
www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

I've said it before, but it bears repeating: Writing a book is a team sport. This being the case, I extend my sincere and heartfelt thanks to . . .

The Virginia Center for the Creative Arts (
www.vcca.com
), a very special place that fuels the creative flame of artists in every medium and where a large portion of this book was written.

Joyce Ely and Sarah Ely, of JEllen's House of Fabric in Lyndhurst, Ohio, for inviting me into your lives and helping me to more accurately and meaningfully articulate the experience of people with Down syndrome and their parents. You are heroes to me and so many other people. God bless you both.

My darling and wise big sister, Donna Gomer, as well as Michael Kilty, the most interesting farmer I know, for their insight and enlightenment on matters of agriculture and animal husbandry. You were both an enormous help to me.

Another darling and wise big sister, Betty Walsh, who has raised nagging with love to an art form and without whom I'd probably never even have finished writing a letter, let alone eleven books. This is not an exaggeration.

My editor, Audrey LaFehr . . . whatever would have become of me if you hadn't seen something in my work that others had overlooked all those years ago? I don't even want to imagine. Thank you for that and for all the cheerleading, championing, and wise counsel you've offered in the years since. And most especially for your keen insights, which helped make this a book we can both be proud of.

Liza Dawson, a shining beacon in the firmament of literary agents, and, on so many occasions, my north star. You keep me calm and on course, you push me forward, and guide me home, and always with kindness, humor, integrity, and exactly the right amount of grit. You are the author whisperer, Missus D. You truly are.

And speaking of teams, to the incredible people at Kensington Publishing: Laurie Parkin, Lesleigh Irish-Underwood, Karen Auerbach, Vida Engstrand, Alexandra Nicolajsen, Meryl Earl, Paula Reedy, Kristine Mills-Noble, Martin Biro, and the entire sales division, as well as everyone involved in production, marketing, administration, accounting . . . thank you so much for all you do to help turn an idea and some loose sheets of paper into that most precious of objects, a book.

The writers—Dorothea Benton Frank, Robyn Carr, Kristan Higgins, and Lauren Lipton—for taking time to read the early manuscript and being so generous with your feedback. I took your observations to heart, and it has made all the difference.

And, of course . . .

The readers. In choosing this book, you have honored me with the most finite and valuable asset in your possession: your time. Please know how grateful I am for your ongoing support and encouragement. My very best wishes and humble thanks to each and every one of you.

 

Marie

Gentle Reader,

 

Greetings! And welcome to Too Much, Texas, my new favorite spot in the landscape of imagination.

Embarking on a new series of books is something like vacationing in a foreign country. The anticipation of a new adventure is thrilling, but also a little nerve-racking. What if you don't like the people? The food? The tour guide? Maybe you should have gone to the beach instead. After all, you already
know
you like the beach. Can this new journey possibly measure up to those you've taken and enjoyed in the past?

The answer, I have discovered, is yes. Yes, it can.

Some of you have accompanied me on one, or two, or even five trips to the fictional village of New Bern, Connecticut, the setting for my Cobbled Court Quilts novels, and have fallen in love with that town and those characters. Some of you are reading one of my books for the first time. Whichever category you fall into, longtime reader or rookie, I can assure you that a trip to Too Much, Texas, is absolutely worth taking—just as good as the beach, but different.

After writing five well-received Cobbled Court Quilts novels, some might wonder what made me take this sudden detour to Texas (don't worry, Gentle Reader, it
is
a detour. I'm already working on my next Cobbled Court Quilts novel). The answer is easy: Mary Dell made me do it.

From the first moment Mary Dell Templeton—Evelyn Dixon's best friend from her old life in Texas—walked onto the stage of my first Cobbled Court Quilts novel,
A Single Thread
(actually, make that barreled onto the stage: Mary Dell knows how to make an entrance!), I knew I wanted to write more about her. She is my absolutely favorite character—funny, unflappable, optimistic, loyal, industrious, creative, and confident, with a style all her own and a heart as big as all Texas. And if you've ever been to Texas, you know just how big that is!

If you've ever lived in Texas, as I have at various times in my life, you know that list of adjectives could just as easily be applied to the Lone Star State itself. I guess that's what makes Mary Dell so compelling a character: She really is a microcosm of the state that gave her birth. Just as there's no state in the Union quite like Texas, there's no character in my books quite like Mary Dell Templeton.

And when you bring all that personality to the page, then add a supporting cast of characters, cowboys, and quilters—well, all I can tell you is that Mary Dell got herself involved in adventures that surprised even me.

I could tell you more, but I don't want to be a spoiler. Instead, why not kick off your spurs, find a Dr Pepper and a comfy chair, turn the page, and join me and Mary Dell on a journey to Too Much, Texas. You'll be glad you made the trip.

 

Blessings,

 

Marie Bostwick

 

P.S. As has been the case with many of the Cobbled Court Quilts novels, my dear friend and partner in crime and fabric collecting, Deb Tucker, has designed some companion patterns for this book. By the time you are reading this, my
registered
Reading Friends will be able to download one (and possibly two) new, free patterns at
www.mariebostwick.com
, not to mention the four free patterns from previous books, designed by Deb Tucker and another friend and fabulous quilter, Chris Boersma Smith.

Also, Deb Tucker has designed a simply beautiful version of the Lone Star project that Mary Dell speaks of near the end of the book. (I saw it come together in my quilting studio just last weekend, and it is amazing!) That pattern and several other companion patterns for my books are available on her website,
www.studio180design.net
.

 

P.P.S. I always enjoy connecting with readers, and computers make this easier than ever. You can find me on Facebook and Twitter almost every day of the week (but don't tell my family—I've convinced them that every time I am on the computer, I'm writing. Every single time). You can also write to me via my website,
www.mariebostwick.com
, or by taking pen in hand and sending a letter to:

C
HAPTER
1

 

N
ineteen-year-old Mary Dell Templeton pushed her white lace veil away from her face, knelt down in front of the toilet, and seriously considered vomiting.

She could hear the staccato tapping of her mother's high heels coming down the hallway and reached up to click over the lock only a moment before Taffy tried the knob and then started hammering on the door.

“Mary Dell? Open the door. I will not put up with any of your nonsense today, young lady. Cousin Organza only knows three songs on the piano, and she's played them through four times already. People are starting to notice. Do not embarrass me in front of half the town, young lady!”

Taffy Templeton paused, then rattled the knob again. “Mary Dell? Do you hear me? You unlock that door and come out here right now!”

Mary Dell closed her eyes and leaned down, resting her forehead on the cool curve of the porcelain seat. “I can't. I feel sick.”

Taffy made an exasperated sound. “Well, of course you feel sick. It's your wedding day. What did you expect?”

It was a fair question.

What in the world was she doing, marrying Donny Bebee? When he'd proposed, she'd immediately said yes, relieved that her problems had been so easily solved by uttering that one little word. But what if marrying Donny wasn't the solution it seemed to be? What if she was just exchanging one set of problems for another? She barely knew Donny. Four months ago, she'd never even heard his name.

Another wave of nausea hit her as she realized that even now, she didn't know his middle name. Or if he even had a middle name! How could she possibly promise to love, honor, and cherish until death did them part a man whose middle name was a mystery to her?

Before she'd met Donny, she was unattached and content to remain that way for the foreseeable future. Now she was engaged, nauseous, and crouched in front of the commode in a wedding dress, minutes away from either becoming Mrs. Donald Middle-Name-Unknown Bebee or busting through the bathroom door, knocking down her mother, and making a run for the nearest pickup truck and the Mexican border.

How had she gotten herself into this mess?