Born of Gilded Mountains

 Book by Amanda Dykes.

This is my 4th Amanda Dykes book, and I have to say she is so consistent in her storytelling. Another beautiful historical mystery with a hint of slow building romance, this time with the added bonus of fictional letters, screenplays, interview transcripts, etc to help tell the story. My only complaint with this author is the slow pacing and overly wordy moments. It could have been edited tighter.

Some quotes:

“The papers ask when I’ll settle down and marry, as if everything before marriage is just . . . biding time. But . . . Didn’t God make this time, too? Isn’t there just as much purpose here? If He made it, how could it have less purpose than whatever’s on the other side of marriage? Or on the other side of anything, for that matter. A career, or children, or some measure of success or other. How could the ‘now’ have any less purpose than whatever’s on the other side?” She shook her head. “I think God made each moment and each moment matters.”

Getting to the end of the day is a miracle worth giving thanks for when your world’s turned upside down.

“The more I live, the more convinced I am that we were made to be held. Not to hold bitterness. But it was so much a part of me, I didn’t know how to end it. I couldn’t let go. Not alone, anyhow. It was like the grip of my heart was frozen shut around it. So . . . maybe it’s stupid, but I realized there are two ways to release a frozen-shut grip. Pry it loose, finger by finger, until it breaks . . . or set it in the sun. Thaw it out. Let the sun do its work.” 

“And your sun was . . .” 

“it was—and is—the Maker of the sun.” 

“God.”

“You know Him?” 

She nodded slowly. “We’re acquainted.” 

“Glad to hear it.” 

“Not sure He’s too keen to know me, though,” Rusty said. “Not sure He’d care to get too close.” 

“That’s exactly what He cares to do.” 

“But I don’t—” Her voice caught. “I don’t know how. All that thawing. I don’t—” Her words tripped to a halt. 

“You don’t have to.” He filled in the silence. “Water is not in charge of its own thawing. But . . .it’ll never thaw if it hides away in the shadows.” 

Her defenses rose. “Puddles don’t have feet.”

 “But you do. You get to choose how close you get to the sun.”

Raze (1) To utterly destroy 

Raise (1) To lift higher 

Question: Are they opposites? Or is it two sides of a whole story?

Author’s note:

As I completed one of the final read-throughs before this book went to print, I stepped back and saw a theme I hadn’t known was there and the way it seemed to beat through with a pulse in nearly every story thread: Willa’s. Priscilla’s. Hudson’s. Rusty’s. Casey’s. Marybeth’s. Reuben’s. Even Kurt and Angus and the Blue Lightning slingshot. Each of them, in different ways, knew or hoped for one life—and then something happened, or didn’t happen, resulting in a life that looked very different from what they’d once imagined. In this, there was hardship. In this, there was healing. In this, there was hope. In this, there was wholeness in the end. Because it boils down to this beautiful promise from Joel 2: 25—“ I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten. . . .” God was at work in each of their lives. Sometimes quickly, sometimes over years, to restore what had seemed utterly lost. This is what He does—He reaches into the void and breathes life.