Faith Blum

Pass Me Not

Let me at Thy throne of mercy, Find a sweet relief, Kneeling there in deep contrition, Help my unbelief

 Timothy is at his wit’s end. His twelve year old half-sister has run off five housekeepers in almost a year. Since their parents died, she has grown wilder than ever. What can he do? As he looks for a new housekeeper, his eye catches sight of a mail order bride advertisement. One young lady has a younger sister and sounds like a God-fearing woman. Could this be the answer to his dilemma or will Louise run her off, too?

A companion novella to Amazing Grace.


Chapter 1

“No more housekeepers advertised. God, why can’t more women advertise as housekeepers? For that matter why can’t Louise be less wild so I don’t have to find a fifth housekeeper in the last year?” Timothy buried his head in his hands, letting the paper fall on the floor. He felt tears prick his eyes. “I can’t do this anymore. Dad and Mom have been dead almost a year now and I just know I’ll be a disaster that day. And Louise. God, I know she’s at least half related to me because we have the same dad, but…

“Okay, Tim, you need to stop complaining.” He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and let it out. “That’s better. Sorry about that, God. I know You know how tough all this has been the last year.” He sniffed. “The last ten years, really. Losing Ma like that, having Dad remarry so soon, getting a little sister who has the energy of fifty bull calves, then Dad and Mom both dying in that stampede.”

Timothy raked his hand through his hair and leaned back in the chair. “You’re probably tired of me asking for strength and wisdom, Lord, but that’s really what I need. I don’t care about the money, I don’t care about the house, I don’t care if things go into shambles around here. What I need is strength to go on and wisdom on how to do it. I need something, God. I just don’t know what. Louise needs a steady womanly influence in her life and I need someone who can take care of the house and cook mine and Louise’s meals.”

He stopped talking and sat up straight. “What I need is a wife.” He scratched his head. “Except there aren’t any women around here. At least none I would want to marry.” He grimaced when he thought about the two widows in town who were both older than him by at least five years. Of course, there were four sixteen year olds and a few a little younger than that, but there was no way they would work. They were not only too young to marry, they were too young to handle Louise.

A sudden memory hit him and he lunged forward to grab the newspaper. With hurried movement, he opened it to the advertisements again. After a quick skim he found the only three mail order brides in the paper. The one that caught his eyes was Abigail Simmons’s.