I don’t know why, but my unfinished novel “Daddy Mine” has been on my mind a lot lately.

I decided I should revisit it this week and share a little with you.

It started as bedtime stories when my kids were little.

I wrote quite a bit of it way back then.

I just peeked at the manuscript.

Let’s just say my writing has come a long way since then.

So this evening I decided to rewrite the first few pages to share a little of the story with you.

It’s really not much more than an introduction to the main character.

Please keep in mind this is unedited writing. Much will likely change.

I’ll tell you a little more at the end.

Until then, here’s the beginning to “Daddy Mine.”

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            “Sarah’s a loser!” The cadre of pretty girls came right up behind her.

            “Your uncle’s a dirty drunk bar keep.”

            Sarah kept walking home, ignoring the town girls. 

            “Your aunt is a mean old witch.”

            No objections from Sarah.

            “And your dad was a murderer!”

            Something exploded in her head.

            Sarah spun and decked 14-year-old Clara.

            Clara’s two friends jumped in and the dusty lane in Kearneyville, Colorado became a blur of punches, shoves, grabs, ripping dresses and screaming.

            Until Miss Heber, their teacher, rounded the corner.

            The girls scattered.

            Sarah gathered her books and made to run.

            “Sarah Hurdle, stay right there!”

            Sarah froze at the stern voice, torn between the rebel that wanted to run and the respectful 12-year-old girl who both feared and adored her teacher.

            “Care to explain that?”

            Her tongue froze as the words jumbled into a log jam that refused to flow past her lips.

            “You know that I cannot condone fighting, especially among young ladies.” The young teacher gently lifted Sarah’s face with a hand under her chin.

            Sarah struggled to maintain a stoic face even as a tear at the edge of her eye threatened to betray her.

            Miss Heber’s face softened as she pulled Sarah to her into a loose embrace. “You were giving those three girls a run for their money.”

            “You shoulda’ seen Clara’s face.”

            “Sarah!” Miss Heber’s scold was mild but unmistakable. “You’d better get home.”

            The two separated and the teacher looked Sarah over.

            “Your Aunt’s going to throw a fit when she sees that dress.”

            “I can handle her.” Even as she said it, Sarah dreaded Aunt Penny’s reaction.

            “See you tomorrow in class.”

            “Okay.” Sarah turned and ran down the hill to Lowtown, the section of Kearneyville below downtown where most of the saloons and gambling halls were.

            As she ran across the muddy ditch and over the train tracks, a story of slipping in the mud and tearing her dress in the fall took shape. The far side of the tracks, being in the shade still had plenty of snow in wet, hardened drifts.

            At least she could wash her hands in the snow and grab a chunk of the icy stuff to soothe her swollen knuckles.

            The summer of 1892 was just a few weeks away and she looked forward to spending her days in the woods, escaping the judgement she felt pressing around her.

            Despite it being the less respectful part of town, Sarah felt more at home in Lowtown. Music already poured from a couple of the saloons putting a bounce in her step as she passed.

            Uncle Harold and Aunt Penny’s house sat along the creek with a dozen other older run-down homes.

            Her two cousins, Jimmy and Teddy, sat on the front porch, shirtless in the chilly spring air. Each had a stick and a knife, carving what they surely thought were fierce looking spears.

            “No passin’ here ‘til you pay toll.”

            She leaned close to ten-year-old Jimmy. “How ‘bout I just tell your mama about you not showing up for school today.”

            Jimmy stared at her. “Maybe we could forget the toll if you forget about that little thing.”

            “What thing?” She walked past them and made straight for the ladder to the loft.

            “‘Bout time you got here.” Aunt Penny mixed something at the table by the old wood-stove. “Get outta your school dress and… Lord have mercy, what did you do?”

            Sarah forced tears to her eyes as she explained. “The trail is all covered in mud. You know how slick it is around the tracks.” She let Aunt Penny make up the lie in her imagination so she wouldn’t actually have to tell it.

            “Well, you’re sewing it this time. I showed you how. First, get changed and bring in some more wood.”

            “Why can’t Jimmy and Teddy bring in wood?”

            “They’re just kids.”

            “Jimmy’s bigger than me.”

            Aunt Penny glared at her.

            “Fine.” Sarah’s skinned knee stung as she flew up the ladder and ducked behind the old curtain that defined her corner of the loft.

            She plopped face first onto the thin mattress, pulling the frayed old pillow tight to herself for a moment of escape into her own little world.

            She closed her eyes and tried to bring back the distant memories of her mom and dad, imagining being hugged by them as she squeezed the pillow flat.

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That’s it for the little peek into the world of Sarah Hurdle.

If you hadn’t figured it out (then my writing is worse than I thought) Sarah is an orphan in the fictional mining town of Kearneyville, Colorado in the 1890’s.

It is a middle-grade (10-14 year old readers) novel full of adventure, drama, and suspense as Sarah tries to figure out what really happened to her parents.

Let me know if you want to read on as I am toying with the idea of completing this novel.

As always, thanks for visiting!