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Rainwater
Rainwater
Rainwater
Ebook296 pages5 hours

Rainwater

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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A romantic historical novel from the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Seeing Red about an independent woman who runs a boarding house in Dust Bowl Texas.

Ella Baron runs her Texas boarding house with the efficiency of a ship’s captain and the grace of a gentlewoman. She cooks, cleans, launders, and cares for her ten-year-old son, Solly, a sweet but challenging child whose busy behavior and failure to speak elicits undesired advice from others in town. Ella’s plate is full from sunup to sundown. When a room in her boarding house opens up, the respected town doctor brings Ella a new boarder―the handsome and gallant Mr. David Rainwater—but Ella is immediately resistant to opening up her home to this mysterious stranger.

Even with assurances that Mr. Rainwater is a man of impeccable character, a former cotton broker and a victim of the Great Depression, Ella stiffens at the thought of taking him in. Dr. Kincaid tells Ella in confidence that Mr. Rainwater won’t require the room for long: he is dying. Begrudgingly, Ella accepts Mr. Rainwater’s application to board, but she knows that something is happening; she is being swept along by an unusual series of events. Soon, this strong-minded, independent woman will realize that the living that she has eked out for herself in the small bubble of her town is about to change, whether she likes it or not...

Racial tensions, the financial strain of livelihoods in cotton drying up into dust, and the threat of political instability swirl together into a tornado on the horizon. One thing is certain: the winds of change are blowing all over Texas—and through the cracks in the life that Ella Barron has painstakingly built. This is the story of a woman who takes her life’s circumstances in both hands, but who will be forced to reckon with the chaos of her historical circumstances..
LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 3, 2009
ISBN9781439176139
Author

Sandra Brown

Sandra Brown is the author of seventy-three New York Times bestsellers. She has published over eighty novels and has upwards of eighty million copies of her books in print worldwide. Her work has been translated into thirty-five languages. Four books have been adapted for film. She lives in Texas.

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Reviews for Rainwater

Rating: 3.9868421769736844 out of 5 stars
4/5

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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I was sent a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair review.This is the first time I've read a Sandra Brown book and romance is not normally my go-to genre but this is claimed to be different from the author's usual fare.I found it to be a well-crafted story written in an easy to read style which flowed perfectly. I found it really difficult to put down and finished it over two days.From early on in the book you just know that it isn't going to end happily but by then it has sucked you in to the narrative and even though you feel you know exactly where it is going it still has time to deliver a twist right at the end.I'm so glad I decided to read this one as it was a welcome change from the usual thrillers and detective novels I usually read.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Wonderful book. Best book I've read in a long time.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I loved this book!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Sweet love story
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Mix up a small town, a dignified stranger, racial tension, an adult bully with arrested development, and a beautiful single mother with an autistic son, and there is plenty of opportunity for conflict. The ending is predictable and inevitable, but the plot carries the reader along anyway.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Sue's selection for VLBC. Depresion era love story between a dying man and the mother of an autistic boy in small town Texas. Interesting treatment of a government program to save family dairy farms and cattle ranches by buying up cattle to be used for food distribution, Cattle deemed not worth transporting for food were slaughtered and buried. Echoes of Atticus Finch in character of David Rainwater and of son-of-large-landowner-villian from multiple classic westerns in the monstrous character of Conrad Ellis. Ella Barron is a woman of flinty resolve, maternal devotion, and fierce decency. I found this book interesting and affecting.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A heartbreakingly beautiful story. A must read. Definitely treat yourself to this book.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Too depressing for me. The author though is wonderful with character development
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Beautifully written story which could have been depressing but managed to be hopeful in the end. I'm not a Sandra Brown fan, but found her description of Depression era hardships, racial conflicts, and the difficulties of dealing with a "special child" to be heartbreaking while at the same time affirming the basic goodness of humankind. would recommend.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    WOW! Very good, but sad. Difficult to read because of the injustices and sadness.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    In this poignant, beautifully written novel, Brown takes a detour from her usual contemporary romantic suspense thrillers and gives readers a moving, historical cinematic-styled story. Now, I should mention that this is the first story I have read by the author, so I cannot speak to the author's writing shift except to say that it was mentioned in the forward as something different the author undertook to write in between two contracted books. The end result is a solid piece of historical literary fiction. Yes, there are some elements of sexual tension/ romance between Ella and David (cannot expect a romance novelist to keep characters chaste, even in a genre-shift), but these are secondary elements as Brown focuses on some tough issues such as poverty, bigotry, corruption, racism and bullying. Ella's 10-year-old son Solly is an idiot savant (keep in mind, autism was not recognized as a medical disorder until 1942, 8 years after the setting for this story) so the story also focuses on Ella's struggles as a single parent to care for and raise Solly at home in an era where individuals like Solly were shut away in institutions.While the story is wonderfully written and has a quiet, contemplative story-telling aspect that I tend to love, it doesn't get full marks from me. I found the characters to be on the wooden side, lacking the depth and development I would have loved to see. Also, parts of the depression era setting are just a bit too perfect and orderly. Great for a cinematic experience but somehow seems just a little too perfect, right down to the planned tear-jerker ending for this bittersweet tale. Overall, a quick reading, historical literary fiction that may appeal to readers looking for books set during the Great Depression (this one is set in 1934).
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Like her style but story could have been developed more!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This book was different from most of Sandra Brown's book so I was slow to pick it out of my stack and read it. But once I started it I was hooked. The characters were all interesting and I think she did a great job of describing the times and how people were treated. Some of the book was sad but it is a story about surviving and learning about yourself and giving hope to others.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Book on CD performed by Victor SlezakIn 1934 in central Texas, Ella Barron runs a boardinghouse. She’s a particular woman in the way the cleans and runs her home. She respects the privacy of her tenants and expects the same in return. She is devoted to her only son, 10-year-old Solly, who does not speak and is prone to “fits” or tantrums. Doctor Kincaid introduces her to David Rainwater, the doctor’s distant cousin, who is seeking a quiet, peaceful place for a few months. This is an interesting look at small town prejudice and bullying in tough times. The Depression hit everyone hard. Some wealthy individuals weathered it with little disturbance; a few greedy people saw a way to profit from the distress of others. Many lost their homes / farms / jobs, and lived in shanty towns, staving off hunger by the generosity of others and their own hard work. Everyone in the boardinghouse is intrigued and charmed by Mr Rainwater, who has fine manners and a pleasant, calm disposition. Only Ella knows the truth, for Dr Kincaid has confided that Rainwater is dying. New to town, he still manages to have a great influence, leading by example in the face of bigotry, bullying and a corrupt sheriff. He also finds ways to penetrate Solly’s isolation, identifying the routines that capture the boy’s attention and help to calm him. Ella and Rainwater are drawn to one another, despite her instincts to remain aloof and apart from her tenant. Brown is best known as a romance writer, and there is some romance here. But it is more of an historical fiction work than a traditional romance, despite the sexual tension between the two main characters. Brown does a credible job of exploring some important issues, though she does tend to rely on some of the romance tropes and stereotypical characters. She also does a fine job of describing the landscape of central Texas during the Depression. I could almost feel the gritty dust in the air and was reminded of visiting my grandparents and having the chore of “watering the street” to keep the dust down on hot summer afternoons. Victor Slezak does a fine job performing the audio. His voice tends towards the bass register, so he’s great when voicing any of the male characters, but he manages a credible voice for the many women in the novel as well. At first, I thought his pace was too slow, but I quickly came to think it was perfect for this work.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I read a lot more fantasy/Sci-fi than I do literary fiction, but even I need a little variety every now and then. This was a Firstreads win, so I decided to finally give it a read. I'm glad to have read it now that I have, even if it is one of those Depression era novels where even the happy endings are heart rending and sad. Having said that I did generally like it. Mostly because Mr. Rainwater was every bit the honourable gentleman of my dreams. He was wonderful. It would be awful hard not to like him. I liked Mrs. Barron, Margaret and the Doctor too, but it was Rainwater who stole the show. Guess that's why the book's named after him, huh?

    This is the first Sandra Brown novel I've read and according to the acknowledges is a departure from her normal stories. She can sure write though. The prose of this book is beautiful and evocative. She manages to relate a lot of emotion in relatively few words. Small movements on the part of the characters relay a lot of meaning. Even though I had a fairly good idea of where the plot was going to end up (one way or another) I still hung on every word until I got there. Would be more than happy to read another of Mrs. Brown's books.

    On a totally unrelated point, I read the hardback edition and it is a beautifully put together book. I love the cover image and the addition of the little bit of fancy gold edging around the title and the deckle edging of the pages.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Good book, but. Not your usual Sandra Brown, until close to the end, this is a sweet little book. But. Brown completely squanders an opportunity for deeper place and character development in the mid-passages, choosing instead in a few sentences to sum up a month's worth of plot development. She does the same thing at the end, which could have been tortured passage for both characters, really testing their mettle--and their love--but she passes it off in a few sentences.And then there are the small things, like cars crossing yellow lines on dirt roads, which jerk the reader completely out of the story for a moment. I don't know about Texas, but in North Carolina and Georgia we don't paint our dirt roads!It may be different, in different parts of the South, but where I come from, persons speaking Black dialect do not employ "they's" for "their". In NC, "they's" was a contraction for "there is", commonly used in place of "there are" as well. For "their," people where I grew up used "they", as in, "ridin' in they car over to they house." In other words, both "there" and "their" are pronounced "they," and the "'s" is added for the contraction, not the possessive. Brown's usage was distracting. And finally, the story is supposed to be told second-hand by Ella's son. I can't imagine a woman raised in the first decades of the 20th century discussing her sex life in such detail with her son!In short, the book was less smooth and tight than it should have been--Brown is no novice author. But still, it was sweet. I enjoyed it, and I cried at the end, as we are meant to.

    1 person found this helpful

  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    really liked this book.It was one of those quiet stories that slowly drew me in and then it barreled to the end and...it was over.Rainwater tells the story of a sad and lonely boarding house owner with an autistic son in the middle of the dust bowl. Into this sorry life strolls Mr. Rainwater. He is the new boarder in Mrs. Barron's boarding house and he is dying. That is a secret shared with Mrs. Barron when Mr. Rainwater's doctor cousin delivers him.And that is how it begins. The two circle around one another polite, at arms length, waiting for something. And then the government begins shooting cows at the neighboring dairy farms to provide a little money for the farmers. But, those shots set off something else in the town and eventually in Mrs. Barron, Solly (her son) and Mr. Rainwater. There is a predictable strand to this story - but it is comfortable and sweet.So - I would definitely recommend this one!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This story, inspired by actual events during the Great Depression, takes place in 1934 in the small town of Gilead, Texas. Ella Barron runs a boarding house. Money is tight, yet Ella works hard to keep her place full. She splits her daily time working and caring for her disabled 10-year-old son, Solly. The local doctor brings her a new boarder, David Rainwater, who is dying of cancer.

    Once-productive farms in Texas are now barren wastelands. Farmers have gone bankrupt, and for many who remain, the only option left is to ask for federal aid. Roosevelt's Drought Relief Program offers farmers financial help where cattle are purchased at a fair price and hauled away, and the meat is distributed to hungry people nationwide. It's a program formed of honorable intentions, yet it’s flawed in its execution. The animals deemed “not worthy for consumption” are shot it place and buried even though homeless families are starving in the same vicinity. As the government trucks arrive at each of the families’ farms, Ella and Mr. Rainwater ride out to see what's happening. Once Mr. Rainwater sees the injustice to the hungry people of the town, he is determined to do something. He is the one who will lead the charge to help them passively fight for the right to feed the hungry.

    The central focus of this well-written novel is definitely the classic love story. Ella and Mr. Rainwater are courageous and admirable and you can't help but root for them, even knowing it probably won't be a happy ending. The book touches on a myriad of subjects, including racism, poverty and pacifism. It's a fast read about a horrible time in U. S. history and I found it completely different than other other book the author has written.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Sandra Brown out did herself this book is an incredible piece of work! The characters are so well painted and I think not only is it a great read but also also brings awareness to Autism! ***Although I personally worked for two years with Autistic teen boys I never had an opportunity to meet up with a Savant as Solly was. I always wanted to though. I can really relate to how Ella had to handy the fits and how Ella and Rainwater used something so simple as spools or two nickles to pacify Solly. How routines and schedules work well and how they don't like certain things like a mess, having wet clothes, spilling food on themselves, anything out of order may bother them. Autistics have some sort of repetitive thing they do ie: Solly's was tapping his shoes together in the beginning as well as his newer learned habit to line up the dominoes in numerical order.I have seen autistic persons that are obcessed watching cars drive, digging with a certain shaped stick and when it breaks making the stick again, watching certain parts of movies many times by rewinding a tape just to laugh again. It was very interesting while it lasted but alas it was a hard back breaking job to work with the teen boys and I would better our Character Ella was worn plumb out everynight!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Ella Barron, single mom to Solly runs a boarding house. David Rainwater comes to stay and both his and Ella's life changes. This story is set within the great depression and the era known as the Dust Bowel. I have to say that I know very little about this time. I have read many books by Sandra Brown and this is not like her typical romantic suspense. The story is quite touching at times and one could say quite sad. There is s romance, this is no spoiler because after all the book is by SB. Theres a little more story because of the book not being a crime novel, although it does have a bit of a twist. This version I read was condensed because it is featured in a readers digest edition. How much was taken out I dont know but it hasn't seemed to make much difference. A nice read but not what Iwould expect from Sandra Brown.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I found myself drawn into the lives of Ella and the other people in historical romance set in a small southern town during the Depression. Great on audio
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Such a nice change of pace from her other novels (not that they're bad, quite good really), it's nice to read something different. I've recommended this book as a book club selection to my co-worker.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Rainwater by Sandra Brown is a heart wrenching story set on the depression era. There’s plenty of drama running in this story, where Brown demonstrates her ability in capturing the setting and the time period, which makes this book an excellent read if you are looking for a change of pace.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    As a diehard fan of Sandra Brown’s work, I couldn’t wait to dig into Rainwater. An historical fiction novel set during the Great Depression, Rainwater is a departure from the romantic suspense for which Brown is most known. I enjoyed it very much. The time period came alive in the storytelling. The main characters were sympathetic while being very strong. The love story at the heart of the novel was more than a romance. It was the story of a deep, intense love involving sacrifice and courage. Brown succeeded in writing an emotional novel without being sappy. She also portrayed racial tensions and economic hardships with a deft hand. It helped that the story was told through flashback by a family member. Having the story narrated years after the fact made the tragedies and struggles less immediate and easier to deal with, especially at the book’s conclusion. I was touched by the story and the family devotion and love portrayed therein.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    How could I not read this? I need to hear about women raising their handicapped children, going about daily life. So I read of Ella, her industriousness with laundry or baking despite sweat dripping down her face. I feel guilty for my own lethargy in this current humid heat wave.Her son congratulates himself "Good job, Solly," and my heart breaks hearing my own son's efforts to communicate with limited word retrieval ability.1934 is a period I am not very familiar with, a time when the courtesy and generosity of ordinary citizens contrasts with the belligerance and prejudice of a few.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Good book, but. Not your usual Sandra Brown, until close to the end, this is a sweet little book. But. Brown completely squanders an opportunity for deeper place and character development in the mid-passages, choosing instead in a few sentences to sum up a month's worth of plot development. She does the same thing at the end, which could have been tortured passage for both characters, really testing their mettle--and their love--but she passes it off in a few sentences.And then there are the small things, like cars crossing yellow lines on dirt roads, which jerk the reader completely out of the story for a moment. I don't know about Texas, but in North Carolina and Georgia we don't paint our dirt roads!It may be different, in different parts of the South, but where I come from, persons speaking Black dialect do not employ "they's" for "their". In NC, "they's" was a contraction for "there is", commonly used in place of "there are" as well. For "their," people where I grew up used "they", as in, "ridin' in they car over to they house." In other words, both "there" and "their" are pronounced "they," and the "'s" is added for the contraction, not the possessive. Brown's usage was distracting. And finally, the story is supposed to be told second-hand by Ella's son. I can't imagine a woman raised in the first decades of the 20th century discussing her sex life in such detail with her son!In short, the book was less smooth and tight than it should have been--Brown is no novice author. But still, it was sweet. I enjoyed it, and I cried at the end, as we are meant to.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I really liked this book. Have tissue ready for the end. Just a great story!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I read the e-book version. I may have missed something. The discussion questions in the back mentioned an epilogue that my version did not have and desperately needed. It would have tied everything together. The book starts at when Solly is a grown man talking to two people in his antique store and ends abruptly as a child. Definitely something VERY important was missing. Not normally a fan of romance, this one was a cut above, but definitely lacked closure without the epilogue to tie things together. I doubt any editor would have allowed Sandra Brown to leave the ending like that.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    In Texas during the Great Depression, a new boarder comes to stay at young single-mother Ella Barron's boarding house. His name is David Rainwater, and he has a tragic secret - he is terminally ill and has only a few more months to live. In addition to becoming well liked and respected both in town and amongst the other boarders, David begins to work with Ella's autistic young son Solly.This book was obviously written to be a heartwarming, sentimental story that plays on the reader's emotions. And, it did succeed. This is a touching story, with so many different elements, just about anyone is bound to relate with the characters. I normally dislike overly sappy books like this, and I refuse to touch another Nicholas Sparks for that very reason. This one is much the same.I had to laugh at the conversation in this book, particularly between the two most prominent characters, Ella and David. At first I didn't notice anything amiss, save that they tended to speak shortly and to-the-point. But after awhile, I noticed that everything they said seemed to go along these all too similar lines: someone is praised, and they reject it, and the other person rejects that, and so on until they just give up.Here is a (made up) example:Ella - You are so good to help me wash the dishes.David - No I'm not.Ella - Yes, you are good to do it.David - It's no big deal, actually, so it doesn't even matter.Ella - It matters to me.David - I'm doing this for myself. I needed something to do. So it isn't a favor, I'm not a good guy, okay?!Ella - You are such a good guy.David - *silence*This is not an actual conversation, but seriously, it isn't even that big of an exaggeration. And you find this exact same structure to whatever they say all through the book. Once I noticed it one time, I noticed it on every page the characters were together.A major plot point to this book is about the government helping farming families by culling some of their cattle. Apparently, farmers herds were growing too large, and they couldn't afford to feed and care for how many animals they had. They tried to sell their livestock, but there were no buyers, and so their cattle were starving and proving useless for meat selling.To help, the government stepped in and said they would buy a certain percentage of the farmer's cattle, and kill them (as they didn't exactly want to start a Presidential cattle herd). It makes sense, and it seemed logical.However, this book very heavily paints it as a bad thing. It is portrayed as government help gone wrong. But however much Brown kept telling us how the 'bad' government was coming to cruelly shoot down the poor animals, I just didn't see it this way. They weren't just sweeping in and murdering family pets, they were buying virtually value-less property and making a stronger herd for these farmers. It makes sense.Here, the farmers get a call from the government to set up a day to come by. (Notice - these people set up a day, completely willingly, with the government. No force, no unexpected running in and shooting everyone down). Then, they do the necessary deed and leave. But for some reason, all of these farmers feel the need to stand on their front porches and watch the cows be shot, with their own children and wives as well. One man takes out a gun. Another man tells us pitifully about how a calf was shot but not killed, and just laid there for hours bleeding and in pain. In other words, they wallow in self pity for a thing that they themselves arranged.The only negative aspect of the entire set-up is that a local troublemaker drops in on many of these government dealings, with his mind made up to stir up mischief. But he isn't a part of the government.I was hoping that the author would provide a historical note at the end, perhaps explaining why exactly she had such an unexplained, ominous view of the government aid, but there was not. Not surprising, as this is a bestseller, after all, and was handcrafted to be one.Another thing I found very off about this story was the element of romance. It was sweet, but David Rainwater is painted as such an honorable, self-sacrificial, good man, that it didn't seem to fit. He is certainly not selfish. He is, in fact, perfect to a fault. He knows that he is terminally ill, and will soon die. But even so, he leads Ella into developing feelings for him, and the two fall in love. He is the one to encourage this in the first place, when he says about the ending of "A Farewell to Arms," that however sad he knew the ending was going to be, he would never have deprived himself of the beauty of the story. He then asks Ella "would you?"Not once does David express guilt at cultivating a relationship with Ella, or try to push her away. It just seemed so out of character.As for the good points, I did like the homey, quaint atmosphere that this book imparted. It was rustic and sweet-tea sweet. The pacing was quick, and the book was briskly easy to get through.An average book. If you like Nicholas Sparks or other such sappy things and don't mind some amateur writing, you'll enjoy this book. But if you're searching for literature, look elsewhere.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I loved this book and since I'm usually not a romance fan, I don't know what that says. The time period was fascinating (and brutal) and her Sandra Brown's characters felt immediately real to me. I missed everyone when I was finished. I'm mailing it to my grandma tomorrow!

Book preview

Rainwater - Sandra Brown

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The critics acclaim Sandra Brown and

RAINWATER

"A quiet, character-driven piece that tugs at the heartstrings. . . . Brown’s inspiration for Rainwater came from her grandfather’s experiences during the 1930s, and it shows. Rainwater has a deeply personal feel to it, and there’s a careful, loving tone that carries through in its simplicity. . . . A beautiful little tale with an engaging, timeless feel."

Deseret News (Salt Lake City)

Bestseller Brown brings Depression-era Texas to vivid life in this poignant short novel. . . . A contemporary frame adds a neat twist to this heartwarming but never cloying historical.

Publishers Weekly (starred review)

Brown’s characters are so real they haunt you after reading.

Winnipeg Free Press (Canada)

Gentle. . . . Many will be irresistibly drawn in by this mesmerizing little fable.

—Booklist

This beautifully written period piece transports us to 1934 Depression-era Texas. . . . A parable perfect to showcase Sandra Brown’s newly displayed brilliance as a skilled lyricist as well as storyteller.

Providence Journal-Bulletin (RI)

Part historical novel, part tender love story. . . . Readers . . . will be caught up as the story intensifies and races to a startling ending. A great book.

—Minneapolis Star Tribune

title

Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Readers Group Guide

Tough Customer Teaser

About Sandra Brown

To Daddy who inspired the story,

and to Mop who inspired me.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wrote Rainwater between two books under contract. I worked on it when I had the time, and became homesick for it when I didn’t. None of my business associates knew that I was writing it until it was finished. Because it is so different from what I’ve been writing for the past twenty years, I submitted it with a great deal of trepidation, unsure how it would be received.

For their enormously gratifying response to the story and the possibilities it represented, I have these people to thank: Rainwater’s first reader, my husband Michael Brown; my agent Maria Carvainis; my editor Marysue Rucci; publishers Carolyn Reidy, David Rosenthal, and Louise Burke; associate publisher Aileen Boyle; publicity director Tracey Guest; and all the other personnel at Simon & Schuster and Pocket Books who have put their energy and enthusiasm into seeing this book published.

—Sandra Brown

PROLOGUE

By any chance, is your pocket watch for sale?

The old man raised his head. The woman asking about his watch was leaning across the glass display case separating them. Inside the case were snuffboxes, hatpins, razors with bone handles, saltcellars with their dainty sterling silver spoons, and various pieces of jewelry recently acquired at an estate sale.

But the woman’s focus was on his watch.

He guessed the woman and her husband to be in their mid-forties. To them the gold timepiece probably looked dapper and quaint, Rockwellian. The couple were dressed in the preppy fashion of country club members. Both were trim and tanned, and they looked good together, as though they had come as a set, the man as handsome as his wife was attractive.

They had arrived in a sleek SUV, which looked out of place on the dusty gravel parking lot in front of the antiques store. In the half hour they’d been there, several items in his inventory had attracted their interest. The things they had decided to purchase were of good quality. As their appearances indicated, they had discriminating taste.

The old man had been listing the items on a sales receipt when his customer posed the question about his pocket watch. He laid a protective hand over it where it rested against his vest and smiled. No, ma’am. I couldn’t part with my watch.

She had the confidence of a pretty woman who was accustomed to beguiling people with her smile. Not for any price? You don’t see pocket watches like that these days. The new ones look . . . well, new. Shininess makes them appear phony and cheap, doesn’t it? A patina, like that on yours, gives it character.

Her husband, who’d been browsing the bookshelves, joined them at the counter. Like his wife, he leaned across the display case to better inspect the watch’s workmanship. Twenty-four-karat gold?

I would imagine so, although I’ve never had it appraised.

I’d take it without having it appraised, the man said.

I wouldn’t consider selling it. Sorry. The shopkeeper bent over the case and continued to painstakingly write up their purchases. Some days the arthritis in his knuckles made handwriting difficult, but what place did a computer have in an antiques store? Besides, he distrusted them.

He did the arithmetic the old-fashioned way, carrying over the two and arriving at his total. With tax, it comes to three hundred sixty-seven dollars and forty-one cents.

Sounds fair enough. The man pinched a credit card out of a small alligator wallet and slid it across the top of the case. Add two bottles of Evian, please. He went to the sleek refrigerated cabinet with a glass door. It had no place in an antiques store, either, but thirsty browsers stayed to browse longer if drinks were available, so the refrigerator was the shopkeeper’s one small concession to modernity.

On the house, he told his customer. Help yourself.

That’s awfully nice of you.

I can afford it, he told them with a smile. This is my biggest single sale of the weekend.

The man took two bottles of water from the refrigerator and passed one to his wife, then signed the credit card receipt. Do you get a lot of traffic off the interstate?

The store owner nodded. People who’re in no particular hurry to get where they’re going.

We noticed your billboard, the woman said. It caught our attention, and, on the spur of the moment, we decided to take the exit.

The rental on that billboard is expensive as all get-out. I’m glad to know it’s working. He began carefully wrapping their purchases in sheets of tissue paper.

The man took a look around the shop, glanced out at the parking lot, which was empty except for his own gas guzzler, and asked, somewhat doubtfully, Do you do a good business?

Fair to middling. The store’s more a hobby than anything. It keeps me active, keeps my mind sharp. Gives me something to do in my retirement.

What line of work were you in?

Textiles.

Were antiques always an interest? the woman asked.

No, he admitted sheepishly. Like most things in life, this—he raised his hands to indicate the shop—came about unexpectedly.

The lady pulled forward a tall stool and sat down. It sounds like there’s a story.

The old man smiled, welcoming her interest and the opportunity to chat. "The furnishings from my mother’s house had been in storage for years. When I retired and had time to sort through everything, I realized I didn’t have any use for most of the stuff, but I thought other people might. So I started selling off china and doodads. Gradual like, at weekend flea markets and such. I wasn’t all that ambitious, but, as it turned out, I was a pretty good merchant.

Soon friends and acquaintances began bringing me items to sell on consignment. Almost before I knew it, I’d run out of space in the garage and had to rent this building.

He shook his head, chuckling. I just sort of fell into becoming an antiques dealer. But I like it. He grinned at them. Keeps me occupied, keeps me in spending money, and I get to meet nice folks like y’all. Where’s your home?

They told him they were from Tulsa and had been to San Antonio for a long golf weekend with friends. We’re not on a deadline to get home, so when we saw your sign, we decided to stop and take a look. We’re furnishing our lake house with antiques and rustics.

I’m glad you stopped. He passed the woman a business card with the shop’s logo on it. If you change your mind about that Spode tureen you spent so much time considering, call me. I ship.

I just might. She ran her finger over the name embossed on the card as she read it aloud. Solly’s. That’s an unusual name. First or last?

First. Short for Solomon, after the wise king in the Old Testament. He smiled ruefully. I’ve often wondered if my mother had second thoughts about that choice.

That’s twice you’ve mentioned your mother. The woman’s smile was warmer, even prettier, when she wasn’t using it to try to finagle her way. You must have been very close to her. I mean, I assume she’s no longer living.

She died in the late sixties. He reflected on how long ago that must sound to this couple. They would have been babies. Mother and I were very close. I miss her to this day. She was a lovely woman.

Is Gilead your home?

I was born here, in a big yellow house that had belonged to my maternal grandparents.

Do you have a family?

My wife passed on eight years ago. I have two children, a boy and a girl. Both live in Austin. Between them, they’ve given me six grandchildren, the oldest of which is about to get married.

We have two sons, the woman said. Both are students at Oklahoma State.

Children are a joy.

The woman laughed. As well as a challenge.

Her husband had been following their conversation while examining the selections in the bookcase. These are first editions.

All signed and in excellent condition, the shopkeeper said. I picked them up at an estate sale not long ago.

Impressive collection. The man ran his finger along the row of book spines. "Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood. A Steinbeck. Norman Mailer. Thomas Wolfe. He turned to the merchant and grinned. I should have left my credit card out."

I also take cash.

The customer laughed. I’ll bet you do.

His wife added, For everything except your pocket watch.

The old man slipped the fob through the buttonhole on his vest and cupped the watch in his palm. It hadn’t lost a second since he’d last wound it. Time had yellowed the white face, but the slight discoloration gave it a richer look. The black hands were as thin as the filaments of a spider’s web. The long hand had a sharp arrow point. I wouldn’t take anything for it, ma’am.

Softly she said, It’s invaluable to you.

In the strictest sense.

How old is it? the man asked.

I don’t know for certain, replied the shopkeeper, but its age isn’t what makes it meaningful to me. He turned it facedown and extended his hand to them so they could read the inscription on the back of the gold case.

August eleventh, 1934, the woman read aloud. Then looking back at him, she asked, What does it commemorate? An anniversary? Birthday? Something exceptional?

Exceptional? The old man smiled. Not particularly. Just very special.

ONE

When Ella Barron woke up that morning, she didn’t expect it to be a momentous day.

Her sleep hadn’t been interrupted by a subconscious premonition. There had been no change in the weather, no sudden shift in the atmosphere, no unusual sound to startle her awake.

As on most mornings, sleep released her gradually a half hour before daylight. She yawned and stretched, her feet seeking cool spots between the sheets. But catching another forty winks was out of the question. To indulge in such a luxury would never have crossed her mind. She had responsibilities, chores that couldn’t be shirked or even postponed. She lay in bed only long enough to remember what day of the week it was. Wash day.

She quickly made her bed, then checked on Solly, who was still deep in slumber.

She dressed with customary efficiency. With no time for vanity, she hastily twisted her long hair into a bun on the back of her head and secured it with pins, then left her bedroom and made her way to the kitchen, moving quietly so as not to awaken the others in the house.

This was the only time of day when the kitchen was quiet and cool. As the day progressed, heat was produced by the cookstove. Heat seeped in from outside through the screened door and the window above the sink. Even Ella’s own energy acted as a generator.

Proportionately with the thermometer, the noise level rose, so that by suppertime, the kitchen, which was the heart of the house, took on a pulsating life of its own and didn’t settle into cool repose until Ella extinguished the overhead light for the final time, most often hours after her boarders had retired.

This morning, she didn’t pause to enjoy either the relative coolness or the silence. Having put on her apron, she lit the oven, put the coffee on to brew, then mixed the biscuit dough. Margaret arrived right on time, and after removing her hat and hanging it on the peg inside the door, and gratefully taking a tin cup of sweetened coffee from Ella, she went back outside to fill the washing machine with water for the first load of laundry.

The prospect of buying an electric-powered washing machine was so remote that Ella didn’t even dream about it. For her foreseeable future she must continue using the one with the hand-crank wringer that had been her mother’s. Suds and rinse water from the tub were drained into a ditch that ran alongside the shed where the washer was housed.

On a summer day like today, the washing shed became stifling by midmorning. But wet laundry seemed heavier when one’s hands were raw and numb from cold during the winter months. In any season, laundry days were dreaded. By nightfall her back would be aching.

Solly, still in his pajamas, wandered into the kitchen while she was frying bacon.

Breakfast was served at eight.

By nine o’clock everyone had been fed, the dishes washed, dried, and put away. Ella set a pot of mustard greens on the stove to simmer all day, cooked a pan of Faultless starch, then, taking Solly with her, went outside to hang up the first basket of laundry that Margaret had washed, rinsed, and wrung out.

It was almost eleven o’clock when she went inside to check on things in the kitchen. While she was adding a little more salt to the greens, someone pulled the bell at her front door. As she walked along the dim center hall, she dried her hands on her apron and glanced at herself in the wall mirror. Her face was flushed and damp from the heat, and her heavy bun had defied the pins and slipped down onto her nape, but she continued to the door without stopping to primp.

On the other side of the threshold, squinting at her through the screened door, was Dr. Kincaid. Morning, Mrs. Barron. His white straw hat had a natty red cloth band, striated with generations of sweat stains. He removed it and held it against his chest in a rather courtly manner.

She was surprised to see the doctor on her porch, but still nothing signaled her that this would be an extraordinary day.

Dr. Kincaid’s office was in the center of town on Hill Street, but he also made house calls, usually to deliver a baby, sometimes to keep a contagious patient from spreading his infection through Gilead, their town of two thousand.

Ella herself had summoned the doctor to the house a couple of years ago when one of her boarders fell out of his bed during the middle of the night. Mr. Blackwell, an elderly gentleman who fortunately had been more embarrassed than injured, protested even as Dr. Kincaid agreed with Ella that he probably should be thoroughly examined just as a precaution. Mr. Blackwell no longer lived with her. Shortly after that incident, his family had moved him to a home for the elderly in Waco. Mr. Blackwell had futilely protested his involuntary relocation, too.

Had one of her boarders sent for the doctor today? Little in the house escaped Ella’s notice, but she’d been outside most of the morning, so it was possible that one of the sisters had used the telephone without her knowledge.

Good morning, Dr. Kincaid. Did one of the Dunnes send for you?

No. I’m not here on a sick call.

Then what can I do for you?

Is this a bad time?

She thought of the clothes piled into baskets and ready to be starched, but the starch needed a while longer to cool. Not at all. Come in. She reached up to unlatch the screened door and pushed it open.

Dr. Kincaid turned to his right and made a come-forward motion with his hat. Ella was unaware of the other man’s presence until he stepped around the large fern at the side of the front door and into her range of vision.

Her first impression of him was how tall and lean he was. One could almost say he looked underfed. He was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and black necktie, and was holding a black felt fedora. She thought his clothes looked severe and out of season for such a hot morning, especially compared to Dr. Kincaid’s seersucker suit and white hat with the red band.

The doctor made the introduction. Mrs. Barron, this is Mr. Rainwater.

He inclined his head. Ma’am.

Mr. Rainwater.

She moved aside and indicated for them to come inside. Dr. Kincaid allowed the other man to go in ahead of him. A few steps into the foyer, he stopped to let his eyes adjust to the relative darkness. Then he took in his surroundings as he idly threaded the brim of his hat through long, slender fingers.

In here, please. Ella stepped around her two guests and motioned them into the formal parlor. Have a seat.

We thought we heard the doorbell.

The chirping voice brought Ella around. The Misses Dunne, Violet and Pearl, were standing on the bottom stair. In their pastel print dresses and old-fashioned shoes, they were virtually interchangeable. Each had a nimbus of white hair. Their veined, spotted hands clutched matching handkerchiefs, daintily hemmed and hand-embroidered by their mother, they’d told Ella.

With unabashed curiosity, the two were looking beyond Ella to catch a glimpse of the visitors. Having callers was an event.

Is that Dr. Kincaid? asked Pearl, the more inquisitive of the two. Hello, Dr. Kincaid, she called.

Good morning, Miss Pearl.

Who’s that with you?

Miss Violet frowned at her sister with reproof. We were coming down to play gin rummy until lunch, she whispered to Ella. Will we disturb?

Not at all.

Ella asked them to use the informal parlor and led them to it. When they were situated at the card table, she said, Please excuse us, ladies, and pulled together the heavy oak pocket doors that divided the large room in half. She rejoined the two men in the formal side, which overlooked the front porch. Despite her invitation for them to sit down, they had remained standing.

Dr. Kincaid was fanning himself with his hat. Ella switched on the fan on the table in the corner, directed the stream of air toward him, then motioned the men toward a pair of wingback chairs. Please.

They sat when she did.

This being summer, and wash day, she hadn’t put on stockings that morning. Embarrassed by her bare legs, she crossed her ankles and pulled her feet beneath the chair. Would you like some lemonade? Or tea?

That sounds awfully good, Mrs. Barron, but I’m afraid I have to pass, the doctor said. I’ve got patients to see at the clinic.

She looked at Mr. Rainwater.

No thank you, he said.

Returning to the kitchen would have given her an opportunity to remove her apron, which had a damp patch where she’d dried her hands, and to pin her bun more securely. But since her guests had declined the offer of a drink, she was stuck looking untidy for the remainder of their visit, the purpose of which hadn’t yet been stated. She wondered what Solly was up to and how long this unexpected meeting was going to take. She hoped Mr. Rainwater wasn’t a salesman. She didn’t have time to sit through his pitch, only to say

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