Dear Readers, I wrote
an endorsement for When the Cowboy Rides
Away when it first released. I’m happy to be part of the re-launch. Here’s
what I wrote: Molly Noble Bull produces another western novel that is so
authentic I felt as if I were there in
I was unable to find the Lord in our liberal denominational church. As a result, I went looking for God elsewhere, reading books on the occult and trying some of the weird things suggested in some of the books. I even joined an occult book club, and as a new member, I was given a small round crystal on a chain. But I never stopped praying. I was thirty-three years old then.
Charlie and I lived on a small farm in
On the night the fever disappeared, I went right to sleep. But I was wakened in the middle of the night. I sat up in bed; Charlie snored peacefully beside me. But somehow, I knew there was a presence in the house, and that presence was standing in the open doorway between bedroom and the hall. I saw nothing. Yet I knew He was there.
He finally spoke, and his voice seemed to come from near the top of the doorframe.
“I came because you knocked,” he said, “and you have been chosen.”
I was too stunned to make a reply.
“But I chose you. You did not choose me.”
I still said nothing.
“And you don’t need to shout. I can hear you.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about because I had been doing a lot of shouting. asking the Lord questions while continuing to read those strange books. I’d especially asked the Lord my purpose in life, and on that night He answered that question.
“Your purpose in life is to be a Christian wife and mother, and you must throw away those things you have.”
He was talking about those books and that horrible crystal on a chain.
Here I was face-to-face with the Lord. I guess I could have asked him anything. Yet there was only one question on my mind at that moment.
“You mean now?” I asked.
“Yes, right now.”
So I got up out of bed, went into the living room, where the books and the crystal were kept, grabbed them, went into the kitchen and threw them in the garbage can. Then I started trembling because I realized I had just had a conversation with the Lord. I had never known anyone who had an experience like mine, including those in our church, and knew nothing about the Bible. But now there was something new that I did know. God was real.
Later, I discovered that many of the things He said to me on that night came straight from the Bible.
“I came because you knocked.” (Matthew 7:7 and Luke 11:9)
“And you have been chosen.” (1 Peter 2:9)
“But I chose you. You did not choose me.” (John 15:16 and Romans 10:20)
Nobody hates the occult more than those who once sampled it, and faith really does come from hearing, at least for me. I will follow the Lord forever.
I love hearing
testimonies about when God confronts people and calls them to Him. You are planning a
retreat where you can only have four authors. Who would they be? I would
What is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you and how did you handle it? I’m comfortable in old clothes and hardly ever throw them away. I keep wearing them. I especially like slacks with elastic around the waist because they always fit perfectly. But elastic wears out—continues to stretch but stops snapping back. In time the circle of elastic grows bigger and bigger, but I keep wearing my slacks.
One night at a family dinner at the home of one of our sons, I got up from the table to go to the bathroom, and my pants slipped down to my knees. Lucky for me, I was wearing a very long shirt. So, I reached down and pulled off my pants. Then I lifted my head and hurried to a nearby room. Then I called out to one of our daughters-in-law.
“Linda, will you come here a minute?”
She came, and I said, “Please bring me the biggest safety pin you can find. I need to fix my pants.”
She brought the pin; I fixed my pants and went to the bathroom. Then I went back to the table to finish my meal, and nobody said a word.
People are always telling me that they’d like to write a book someday. I’m sure they do to you too. What would you tell someone who came to you and said that? I would say, “Write that book, keep writing, and never give up.”
Maggie Gallagher, twenty-one, runs the Gallagher Ranch in
When the Cowboy Rides Away opens two years after Maggie loses her family members. Out for a ride with her sister, she discovers Alex Lancaster, a handsome cowboy, shot and seriously wounded, on her land. Kind-hearted and a Christian, Maggie nurses him back to health despite all her other chores. How could she have guessed that Alex held a secret that could break her heart?
Please give us the first page of the book.
Early May 1880
Somebody was coming.
Maggie Gallagher slowed her sorrel mare. A small dust cloud hung over the north pasture like a puff of smoke. As she continued to eye the trail of sand and dust, it grew larger.
She glanced back at her younger sister. “Hurry up, Sarah. A rider’s headed this way. See if you can get ole Short Legs to trot.”
The little red-haired girl yawned. “I said I was coming.”
“Well, can you get that pony of yours to move a little faster? We need to go on out to the cemetery, leave our flowers, and rush right home. A caller will probably be waiting for us at the house when we get back.”
The main house was over a mile from the ranch cemetery and a
mere twenty miles from the
The morning breeze felt cool on Maggie’s face, but that
wouldn’t last long. By noon the temperature could reach 100 degrees. Her aunt
often said that
She loosened the bow under her chin and pushed back her blue-flowered bonnet. She might as well sit back in the saddle and enjoy herself. It was obvious Sarah was in no hurry.
Maggie thought about the dust cloud she’d seen. She wasn’t expecting visitors. But since company appeared to be on the way, she hoped it was Roger. He’d said he might ride into town. On the way back to his place, he often stopped by the Gallagher Ranch to leave Maggie the mail he picked up for her, and she was hoping for a letter from Aunt Violet.
He’d watered his horse in a creek with only a trickle of
water in it and crossed a bridge. Now, Alex Lancaster guided his black stallion
through thick brush, leaving a trail of dust and sand behind. He had to find
But his horse needed rest. The animal wouldn’t hold up much longer without it, and he’d pushed him relentlessly since he rode north from the border, stopping at creeks and lakes when he found them, sleeping and then moving on again.
Now he wasn’t sure exactly where he was. The entry gate said Ranch Headquarters, One Mile, but it didn’t include the name of the ranch.
He thought the ranch he was searching for was at least fifty or so miles north of here, but as long as he was in the area, he might as well stop and check. At the least he could water his horse again, and maybe the ranch owner would give him directions.
Alex could barely see the outline of a two-story house in the distance, but that was enough to keep him moving forward. He would talk to the folks at the headquarters, cool off for a while, and then head out and keep going until he found her.
But would she let him explain what happened? Would
Alex blinked, sucking in his breath. Would he ever forgive himself?
How can readers find you on the net?
To find When the Cowboy Rides Away, click here.
To find Facebook: facebook.com/molly.n.bull
My website: www.mollynobleull.com
My page at Amazon: http://bit.ly/mollynoblebull
Thank you, Molly, for sharing the book with my blog readers today. I know they will love the story as much as I did.
Readers, here are links to the book.https://amzn.to/33xTt6S - Paperback
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