Somewhere Safe With Somebody Good (#12 in Mitford Years Series)
:From the author of the Mitford books including Come Rain or Come Shine: Welcome back home to Mitford. We've been waiting for you&... After five hectic years of retirement from Lord's Chapel, Father Tim Kavanagh returns with...
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:From the author of the Mitford books including Come Rain or Come Shine:
Welcome back home to Mitford. We've been waiting for you&...
After five hectic years of retirement from Lord's Chapel, Father Tim Kavanagh returns with his wife, Cynthia, from the land of his Irish ancestors. While he's glad to be at home in Mitford, something is definitely missing from his life: a pulpit. But when he's offered one, he decides he doesn't want it.
For years, he believed he had a few answers. Now he has questions. How can he possibly help Dooley's younger brother, Sammy, make it through the fallout of a disasterous childhood? Could doing a good deed for the town bookstore be the best thing for his befuddled spirit? And who was riding through town in a limo? Not Edith Mallory.
Then an editorial in the weekly Muse poses a question that sets the whole town looking for answers: Does Mitford still take care of its own?
Now sit back, relax, and discover why USA Today says Somewhere Safe with Somebody Good "hits the sweet spot at the intersection of your heart and your
Jan Karon writes ato give readers an extended family and to applaud the extraordinary beauty of ordinary lives.a
:***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected proof***
Copyright © 2014 Jan Karon
His wife was determined to march him to the country club this Saturday evening. Worse, he&'d have to stuff himself into his old tux like sausage into a casing.
The Irish breakfast&-more properly, a resplendent banquet on a plate&-was the culprit. He had tried to restrict himself to three such repasts during their stay in County Sligo, but ended up devouring seven, two of them out of view of his wife. He didn&'t know about St. Paul, but the grim baggage of diabetes was definitely this cleric&'s thorn.
&'I&'m still jet-lagged,&' he said.
&'Jet lagged? After ten days? Try again, sweetheart.&'
There was a busy silence. They sat in his study, finishing a second cup of coffee. Rain gleamed on the leaves of the maple outside the vast window; fog capped the mountains beyond. &'Our observatory,&' he reasoned, when faced with the alarming cost of so much glass.
&'It&'s an important occasion, Timothy. Your doctor is retiring after decades of sleep loss an