{"product_id":"2940149738540","title":"Plowing on Sunday","description":"CONTENTS\u003cbr\u003eBook One\u003cbr\u003eChapter Page\u003cbr\u003eI 3\u003cbr\u003eII 19\u003cbr\u003eIII 37\u003cbr\u003eIV 54\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eBook Two \u003cbr\u003eV 73\u003cbr\u003eVI 92\u003cbr\u003eVII 111\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eBook Three \u003cbr\u003eVIII 131\u003cbr\u003eIX 159\u003cbr\u003eX 185\u003cbr\u003eXI 202\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eBook Four \u003cbr\u003eXII 215\u003cbr\u003eXIII 225\u003cbr\u003eXIV 239\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eBook Five \u003cbr\u003eXV 255\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSarah Brailsford hurried through the April downpour holding her lantern with its shining reflector high above her and picking her way among the puddles which gleamed in the lantern light. Now and then she would stop to listen or would hallo in her sweet, anxious voice, \"Stanley! Oh, Stan!\"\u003cbr\u003eThe lantern cast gigantic shadows behind each boulder, fence-post and clump of hazel bushes as she splashed along between the rushing buggy ruts with an unreasonable panic in her heart. The willow branches from the trees beside the ditch whipped wetly across her face and shoulders. She brushed them aside without stopping and crossed the bridge over the flooded creek.\u003cbr\u003eShe lowered her head to fight the mounting wind, and labored up the hill through muddy torrents until she stood at last beneath the giant cottonwood with half the world below her. Then as she rested, panting from her climb, the distant lightning flared and the panic left her.\u003cbr\u003e","brand":"Bronson Tweed Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47172147118320,"sku":"2940149738540","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940149738540_p0.jpg?v=1763722371","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940149738540","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}