She spilled the dark linen skirt over her petticoat, letting it settle at her slender frame. She inhaled the lavender her sister Selma insisted be added when they made their own soap, something they did more often now since they'd moved to Winona, Minnesota. Selma was prone to sensuous scents; sensuous music too, her husky voice holding people hostage when she sang.

Jessie looked at her sleeping sisters. The candlelight cast shadows on the tousled hair of Selma, her younger sister, and on the nightcap that Lilly, her older sister, always wore. ("It will keep you from catching vapors in the night," Lilly claimed). Jessie pulled on the white shirtwaist. Even in sleep they reflected who they were when awake: Selma, dreamy and romantic; Lilly, organized and right. Always right. Jessie slept somewhere between them, literally. In life she guessed she had a bit of both of those girls' practices in her. Selma would approve of Jessie's morning goal for its dreamy adventure; Lilly wouldn't. But Jessie'd organized it as Lilly would, leaving little to chance. She'd walked the route, knew the obstacles. She anticipated what she'd find when she got there. If she could make it on time.

Luckily there were only five buttons down the back of her blouse, close to the high neck. She considered waking Selma to help her button them but decided against it. Selma would want the details and wake up Lilly, who would question her judgment. Jessie would not lie. Lilly would point out how ridiculous she was being, rising early and setting out for such foolishness when she had an important appointment in the day ahead. "That should be your emphasis," Lilly would say. She spoke as though she were Jessie's mother. Oh, she meant well; older sisters did. That's what her mother told her. But still, Jessie was tired of having every person in the family older than she considered wiser and worldlier too.

So Jessie reached back and buttoned the blouse herself, then centered a beaded-buckle belt on her tiny fifteen-year-old waist. Hat or no hat? Going out in public without her hat would be too casual. Someone just might question what she was doing or, worse, remember and tell her mother. She could get by without the corset, but she'd best wear the hat.

She tossed a shawl around her shoulders, grabbed her shoes, then dropped one by mistake. She held her breath, hoping no one would wake. She blew out the candle and waited.

"Jessie?"
"Go back to sleep, Selma."
"What are you up to?"
Jessie moved to her sister's side of the bed and whispered,
"Don't wake Lilly, all right? It's a secret. Can you keep a secret?"Her sister nodded. "I'm going on an adventure."
"Can I come too?"
"Not this time. But I'll tell you all about it after you get home from school. Just don't tell, please? If Mama asks, just say you don't know. Because you don't."
"Is it about a beau?"
"You read too many of those stories in Woman's Home Companion.
No boys. Nothing like that."
"I better tell Mama." She pushed the quilt back onto the empty space where Jessie had slept. "She won't like you going off by yourself in the night."
"No!" Jessie looked at Lilly to see if her loud whisper had awakened her.
"It's nothing. I'll be back before breakfast."
"All right. But you'll tell me everything?"
"Everything necessary," Jessie said.

Her sister settled back under the quilt, and Jessie picked up her shoe. She'd nearly crippled her adventure before it even started! Shetiptoed past Roy's room with special quietness, careful of the oak floor that creaked at a certain place near the head of the stairs. Roy had hearing like their mother's. That woman could...

 

 

"Jane Kirkpatrick's brilliance as a storyteller and her elegant artistry with the written word shine like a beacon in A Flickering Light. A master at weaving historical accounts with threads of story, Jane has that rare ability to take her reader on a journey through time. You nearly feel the ground move beneath your feet."

 

"Jane Kirkpatrick handles some very difficult issues and situations in A Flickering Light. Her attention to historical detail is greatly appreciated and defines her mark on this story. I will watch with great anticipation to see where this journey takes us as the series continues."

 

"One of the marvels of this novel is Kirkpatrick's uncanny ability to enter into the minds and hearts of many characters and inhabit them with authority, generosity of spirit, and wisdom. You'll want to read slowly so you can savor each paragraph, each scene, each chapter."