Music Monday: Not a Day Goes By, Lonestar

“Not a Day Goes By – Lonestar Lyrics.” Video created for and uploaded to YouTube by Bek M., 05 Apr. 2013.


I think I found Alex’s song this week while listening to whatever YouTube brought up for me to listen to. (I do that sometimes to find new songs or ones that I had forgotten about.)

For the past six years, Alex has carried his memories of the woman he loves in his heart. Now, he is trying to convince her that he is worthy of her. He has not understood her refusal — until now…

EXCERPT FROM Her Heart’s Choice: 

“It is understandable.  It has been six years and ours was but a passing acquaintance.”  He dropped his eyes to his plate.  “I’ve not had the opportunity to forget you,” he said it softly.

She heard the accusation in Mr. Lester’s tone and looked at Alex, who shrugged.  “I spoke often of home and since you were part of those memories, I fear Lester has heard of you often.”

Anne smiled and then focused on the vegetables on her plate.  Such comments were definitely not keeping her safe, no matter how closely she sat to any of her cousins or their wives.  He had spoken of her and thought of her — often. She wondered if it had been as often as she had thought of him and if he had thought of her in a flattering way or a vengeful way.  The thought startled her.  Perhaps he wished to marry her, not because he still loved her, but because he wished to repay her for shunning him.  Perhaps he did not wish to marry her at all. Perhaps he wished for her to wish to marry him so that he might toss her aside. She stabbed a carrot particularly hard. The tines of her fork made a horrid scraping sound on her plate, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  She chewed the offending vegetable slowly and thoroughly before attempting to continue any sort of conversation.

Carrot conquered and embarrassment partially faded, she made a second attempt at small talk.  “I would tell you of my uncles, but I believe you already know how they do.  Well,” she waved a hand in Darcy’s direction and looked toward Rycroft, “at least the ones who remain.”  Her cheeks flushed again.  She had not meant for the comment to sound as unfeeling as it did.  “I mean to say we have had a great deal of loss in our family over the past six years.  Rycroft’s father, Darcy’s, my own.”  She hated how her voice always caught whenever she mentioned her father’s death.  It had been nearly six years, when would it ever become a topic of which she could speak without that feeling of despair gripping her heart as it did.

“I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing,” Alex said softly.

“Thank you.” She bowed her head so that she could not see the understanding in his eyes.  Of course, he knew how dearly she had loved her father, for she had spoken of it to him on more than one occasion.

Alex watched her fidget with the napkin in her lap and draw silent deep breaths and as he did so, he began to reason out her refusal just a bit as a particular conversation came to mind, a conversation that had caused her to act as she was now.

“He wanted to take me to Bath to see the assembly rooms, and I wished for him to take the waters, but my mother will not allow it,” she had fumed as they road the length of a long field near Rosings.

The comment had shocked him. Anne’s father had been ill for several month — three, at least.  It did not appear to be anything grave or oversetting but rather a general attitude of malaise.

“Why?” he had asked.  

“My uncle requires assistance and so the money that father had set aside for our journey had to be given to my uncle.” 

She had fidgetted with the reins in her hands and drawn several deep breaths as quietly as she was now. Then she had continued.

“Lord Matlock must not be refused.  He is an earl after all, and my father is merely a baronet. The will of one comes before and at the expense of the other.” She shrugged.  “It is just the way things are and will always be.”

She had then clucked to her horse and galloped ahead of him and the topic was at an end.  She would not return to it, no matter how many times and in how many ways he had attempted to broach it again.

Alex leaned close to his friend and whispered.  “I had not considered when playing how a pawn might feel being used at the expense of the more powerful pieces on the board.”

Jonathan’s brows furrowed.

Alex tipped his head toward Anne, just slightly.  “I was thinking of how you accused me of protecting my knight above all, and I began to consider how the other pieces might view such treatment.  The pawns would think nothing of it as that is the way of rank.”  He shrugged.  “Perhaps, I might win more games if I treated the pawns as carefully as I did the pieces of rank such as the knight.”

Jonathan’s brows remained furrowed.

“I am sure you will see what I mean eventually,” said Alex turning back to his meal.


Her Heart’s Choice it the fourth book in the Choices Series.

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Leenie Brown

Leenie Brown fell in love with Jane Austen's works when she first read Sense and Sensibility followed immediately by Pride and Prejudice in her early teens. As the second of five daughters and an avid reader, she has always loved to see where her imagination takes her and to play with and write about the characters she meets along the way. In 2013, these two loves collided when she stumbled upon the world of Jane Austen Fan Fiction. A year later, in 2014, she began writing her own Austen-inspired stories and began publishing them in 2015. Leenie lives in Nova Scotia, Canada with her two teenage boys and her very own Mr. Brown (a wonderful mix of all the best of Darcy, Bingley and Edmund with healthy dose of the teasing Mr. Tillney and just a dash of the scolding Mr. Knightley).

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