A Cold Winter Night by novelist Ada Brownell

A guest post by Ada Brownell

The frosty ice on the canal crunched as my skates rhythmically slid in rhythm in the darkness.

The rest of my Sunday school class still wobbled on their blades on the frozen irrigation water near the bonfire, trying to get a feel for the sport.  I flew around one canal curve, then another, enjoying the cold breeze I created.

Moonlight glistened off the ice, lighting my way. I twirled, whirled and skated backward before turning ahead to go around another curve.

I grew up in a small Colorado town that made an ice rink for the kids, flooded it every day when temperatures neared zero, and kept a warm fire burning in a barrel. Then irrigation canals striped and criss-crossed our valley, and they were a great place to skate, too

Old Man Winter prepared a glassy smooth surface on the canal for this night.

Practice, not lessons, shot me out ahead of my friends who struggled behind me. Well, I admit a brother helped me figure out how to manage curves and backward skating. But my dad started my adventure on ice. He bought a box of junk at the  auction, and my skates were tucked in there.

Suddenly I heard heavy rhythmic movement.

“Hi.”

L.C. Brownell, one of four brothers named to be called by their initials, zipped beside me.  The moon revealed twinkles in his eyes and a smile on his handsome face.

“Hi,” I answered, wondering at the friendliness of a youth about five years older than I.

Up and down the canal we went together.  He’d taken lessons in Minneapolis while he was in telegraph school. We skated and talked. Everyone else stayed close to the fire.

When chili-eating time came, he asked, “Could I take you home?”

I agreed, and that started a relationship that caught me by surprise. I was barely age 15. Already 20 and working for the railroad, a whole tribe of  young women tried to catch his attention.

On our first date when he stopped his car in my parents’ driveway, he pointed at my window and scooted my way. “Look!  A falling star.”

I didn’t look.  I held up my hands to bar him from coming closer, quickly opened the door and went inside.

The second date I sat closer and he gently kissed me—once.

I fell in love at that moment, but I didn’t want to love him.  I had things to do; places to go; goals to achieve. When he declared his love for me, I didn’t take it seriously. He talked of marriage and I thought he couldn’t be serious. Erma, my vivacious older sister, had been engaged five times.

L.C., however, needed a cook, a housekeeper, a devoted wife, and for some reason he chose this kid—me.  Furthermore, he thought he could tell me what to do. That didn’t go far with this freckled-faced redhead. Friction often caused sparks between us instead of love. He’d chosen the wrong “woman-to-be” to boss around.

He slipped a diamond on my finger after he discovered my parents weren’t running him off.  One week we were engaged; the next, not even speaking. The whole year we dated our relationship soared, crashed, then went back to the heights and hit bottom again.

Finally, I broke up with him, refused to date him, and told him to go after other girls who adored him. I knew I loved him. I just thought I’d get over it.

Well, I didn’t. After months of hoping for a miraculous recovery from my encounter with Cupid, I gave up. Three months later, I wore one of the most beautiful white satin wedding gowns I’ve seen, even until this day.  My sister-in-law, Mildred, a wonderful seamstress, made it.

I’d be lying if I told you everything went as smooth as the ice on which we skated on our first flirt with romance. I’m still a spit fire and he still likes to tell me what to do.

Yet, the fires of love burn after 61 years in a relationship that began on a cold winter night. I finished high school, graduated from college, have a wonderful career and outstanding children and grandchildren.

Despite stressful times and sorrow, the journey has been an exciting adventure beyond my wildest dreams–even more special because Jesus and L.C. walk beside me.

 About Ada

Ada Brownell is the author of five books, about 300 stories and articles in Christian publications, and she spent a large chunk of her life as a reporter, mostly for The Pueblo Chieftain in Colorado. She and her husband L.C., have five children, one of them in heaven, eight wonderful grandchildren.and two great-grandchildren.

Among her books: The Lady Fugitive, an historical romance released July 18, 2014, Imagine the Future You, a youth Bible study (November 2013). Joe the Dreamer: The Castle and the Catapult, (Jan. 15, 2013); Swallowed by Life: Mysteries of Death, Resurrection and the Eternal, (Dec. 6, 2011); and Confessions of a Pentecostal, out of print but released in 2012 for Kindle; All the books are available in paper or for Kindle. Imagine the Future You audiobook is available at www.Audible.com  Free book with new Audible membership.

Amazon Ada Brownell author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/adabrownell

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/AdaBrownellWritingMinistries

Twitter: @AdaBrownell

Blog: http://inkfromanearthenvessel.blogspot.com

About The Lady Fugitive

How does a respected elocutionist become a face on a wanted poster?

Jenny Louise Parks escapes from the coal bin, and her abusive uncle offers a handsome reward for her return. Because he is a judge, he will find her or he won’t inherit her parents’ ranch.

Determination to remain free grips Jenny, especially after she meets William and there’s a hint of romance. But while peddling household goods and showing a Passion of the Christ moving picture, he discovers his father’s brutal murder.

Will Jenny avoid the bounty hunters? Can she forgive the person who turns her in? Will she find peace, joy and love?