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Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares about you.
—1 Peter 5:7
The best exercise for the heart is to bend down and help someone.
—Amish Proverb
ONE
The first time I went to the Clarks’ house was with my older brother, Andy. He was twelve and I was ten. Back then, I was fairly certain my big brother could do no wrong.
FEBRUARY
A ndy Warner almost hadn’t glanced at his phone. He was down in Naples, Florida, with his parents and two of his father’s golf buddies and was just about to walk into the grill at some crazy-expensive golf club when his cell phone vibrated.
Usually he would have ignored it, but his parents and the men had been talking about the stock market for the last hour—they wouldn’t miss him for a couple of minutes.
Just as he excused himself from the group, his phone vibrated again. Walking toward the front doors, he thumbed the screen. His little sister, Tricia, wouldn’t have called him for no reason.
“Hey, Trish,” he said as he slid his sunglasses back over his eyes. “How’s all the snow? Are you finally wishing you’d given in and come to Florida with Mom and Dad?” No matter how hard he’d tried to convince his sister that heading down to Florida for the long Presidents’ Day weekend would be good for her, his twenty-year-old sister had steadfastly refused.
“Oh, Andy. You have no idea.”
He was about to tease her again when something in her voice made him stop. “What’s going on?”
“I’m in trouble.”
The connection was breaking up. Hoping to hear her better, Andy strode toward the edge of the half-filled parking lot. As he stood on the dark pavement, heat radiating from it even in the middle of February, there was no one around to overhear. “What happened?”
“The power is out in the cabin and it’s snowing like crazy. The weather reports are bad, too,” she said in a rush, one word tumbling over the other. “I don’t think my car can make the drive back. It’s freezing, it’s going to be dark in a couple of hours, and the only way I can charge my phone is to go sit in the car.”
Feeling the headache that he’d been fighting off and on for the last six months come rolling back, Andy rubbed between his eyes. “You went out to the cabin by yourself? Did Mom and Dad know you were heading out there? I sure didn’t.”
She paused. “I didn’t tell anyone I was coming out here.”
Their family’s cabin was nestled in the woods about ninety minutes from their home in Walnut Creek, Ohio. Their grandparents had built it when their dad was just a kid. Over the years his parents had fixed it up until it resembled something out of one of his mother’s Midwest Living magazines. It had two bedrooms, a huge stone fireplace, and granite countertops in the kitchen. All of them loved hanging out there, hiking, fishing, or simply doing nothing at all.
But even though the place had every modern convenience and was gorgeous, it was still secluded—really secluded. In addition, the narrow, winding road leading up to it had tripped up more than one driver in the middle of the summer.
But in the dead of winter? It bordered on treacherous. Fear for her ratcheted up his tone. “Trish, what were you—”
She cut him off, her voice sounding pinched. “Andy, believe it or not, I didn’t call so you could yell at me from some beach in Florida. Chew me out all you want when you get home. But right now I need your help.” She took a deep breath. “What should I do? Do you think I should try to brave the roads and go back?”
Concern slammed into his chest. Tricia might be twenty years old and a grown woman to the rest of the world, but to him she was still the little girl who used to tag along behind him and his friends. “Give me a sec. Let me think.” He knew what he would do—he’d take the chance and start driving.
But this was Tricia.
After another second or two, Tricia made an impatient noise. “Can you think quicker? It’s snowing so much, I’m afraid I’m going to lose our connection. You know how spotty it is out here.”
She wanted him to spout off the right advice just like that? Andy mentally rolled his eyes. He was starting to have a whole new dose of respect for his parents. Was this what their lives had been like when he was a teenager and getting into trouble? Memories of him calling home in need of help taunted him like a bully.
“Look, no judgments, but why did you call me instead of Mom or Dad? How about I run inside and get—”
“Mom’s been threatening to make me move back home and finish college online or something. She said I’ve had too much drama and that something is always going wrong with me.”
Their mom was right. Tricia was a junior at Bowling Green State University, but even he knew that his smart little sister was a walking disaster. She’d had difficult roommates, lost her keys and student ID, ran out of money, and never thought things through. How one girl could be so flighty and still make the dean’s list while majoring in applied mathematics was beyond him.
“So you don’t want them to know you’re stuck up in the cabin?”
“Absolutely not.”
He began to pace, working up a sweat. “Are you in trouble? Do you have wood and water?”
“The water’s fine. For some reason, the well hasn’t given out. I’ve got some granola bars, cereal, and milk, too. But I’m stuck, Andy.” Her voice quivered. “You know I wouldn’t have called if I wasn’t so stressed out. I can only find a couple of candles and two flashlights but no batteries. It’s really bad out here.”
Racking his brain, he tried to think of who would drop everything to help Tricia out. Exhaling, he realized he knew seven people. The other members of the Magnificent Eight. His best friends.
He was closer than close to these seven other men and women, thanks to the bond they’d formed back when they were toddlers. They’d vowed to be there for each other no matter what—and, amazingly, that loyalty had never wavered.
The best part about the group, for Tricia at least, was that some of the Eight were Amish. They didn’t need good roads to travel on; they could use a sleigh and horses. They didn’t need electricity, either. They made do without electricity all the time.
But what was most important was that both he and Tricia could trust any of them. Though she was never part of the Eight, she knew each of them really well.
And right then, he knew who to track down first. Logan lived north of Walnut Creek and knew all the back roads to the cabin. If anyone could make it there, it was him. “I’m going to call Logan Clark, Tricia. He’ll get you.”
“Logan?” Her voice softened with relief. “Do you really think he’d come out here for me?”
“Of course. He knows the cabin, too. So sit tight. He’ll drop everything to be there.”
“I hope he answers his house phone. He’s New Order, right?”
“Yep.” The Clarks were New Order Amish, which meant that they had a single house phone. One of the many people who lived there would answer it and tell Logan about Tricia. “Listen, if for some reason I can’t get ahold of him, I’ll call someone else in the Eight. No matter what, you won’t have to worry. Expect company to arrive in three or four hours.”
She sniffed. “Thanks, Andy. What would I ev
er do without you?”
He laughed. “Don’t worry about that. I’m not going anywhere. Now, let me call Logan and get back to Dad before he comes looking for me.”
“Okay. Thanks again, Andy.”
“Chin up, Trish,” he reassured her, ready to find her help as soon as possible. “Go light one of those candles you found and read a book or something. Try to relax. It will be all right.”
Still fighting his headache, he thumbed down his list of contacts and dialed Logan’s number, smiling when his buddy picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Logan, it’s Andy. I’m really glad you picked up and not one of your siblings.”
“Well, I’m really wonderin’ why you are on the phone. I thought you were in Florida.”
“I am, but I just got a call from Trish. Listen, I need a favor.”
“Name it,” he said.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was going to be okay now. Tricia was going to be taken care of.
“Andy?” his dad called out.
Covering the mouthpiece, he turned to his father. “Sorry, Dad. There’s an emergency at work. I’ll be right there.”
Looking relieved, his dad walked back inside. As soon as he was gone, Andy filled Logan in on Tricia and asked him to drop everything to rescue her.
Just like he’d had to back when they were twelve years old.
“I’ll head out to get her within the hour. I’ll bring supplies, too, in case something happens.”
“If you want to bring someone else with you, that’s fine with me. Trish sounded like a wreck.”
“We’ll see. Try not to worry.”
“Danke, Logan,” Andy said, using the Pennsylvania Dutch word for thank you to emphasize his relief.
“Ack, it’s nothing. It’s what friends are for. Ain’t so?”
Andy smiled. “Absolutely,” he said as he hung up and walked back inside the club. Though his head was pounding and he didn’t feel good about keeping this secret from his parents, he believed in Logan and the strength of the Eight as much as he believed in God.
He really was blessed to have such an amazing group of friends.
TWO
Back then, Andy and I weren’t all that close. If you want to know the truth, we still really aren’t. We’re too different, I suppose. He’s always been about his friends, his plans, and a good time.
Me?
Even back then, I was just trying my best to keep up.
T hree hours had passed since Tricia called her brother. Since that time, she’d changed from the ratty sweats she’d been wearing to black leggings, a thick pale-pink pullover, and Uggs. She brushed her hair and even put on a little mascara and lip gloss. She supposed all of that was vain and unnecessary, but since she already felt stupid, she figured she might as well not look like a wreck, too.
From there, she decided to clean up the cabin. She straightened the living room, folded blankets, and hand washed and dried the dishes she’d been using. Next she laid a new fire and took out the trash.
Oh, and she looked out the window at least forty-seven times.
She knew it was that many times because about two hours ago, when she began to worry that Logan might not come after all, she started counting.
Thirty minutes after that, she started pacing, telling herself it was in a sad effort to keep warm, but really it was because she’d learned to do a number of things like that to dispel her nervous energy.
A long time ago she came to understand that, while Andy Warner excelled at always having all the friends and all the answers, she’d always been very, very good at messing up.
She’d given up wondering why God had doled out His gifts in such a lopsided way. Maybe He had a sense of humor?
Every time Tricia was unwise enough to complain to her mother about how she’d never had a group of friends like Andy and was always trying to crawl her way out of some crisis, her mother had shaken her head in dismay.
And then proceeded to remind Tricia that she had plenty of gifts her older brother didn’t.
Using her fingers to help drive her point home, Mom had recounted Tricia’s attributes in a way that would have made most people squirm. First, Tricia had been given an ability to memorize information effortlessly, which made school fairly easy for her. God had also given her a wealth of pleasing features. She had long, thick, brown hair, brown eyes, and smooth skin that had hardly known a blemish. And while she’d never been especially thin, she certainly wasn’t obese or anything. Just normal.
Of course, Mom had called her pretty.
Even though Tricia had rolled her eyes and reminded her mother that high test scores and good looks weren’t everything, her mother often scoffed and said that only a girl who had been blessed with both would say such things.
Embarrassed, Tricia had learned to keep her mouth shut but would have gladly traded some of those looks for the ability to make friends easily. She would have gladly given back her string of honor rolls and academic awards for a sliver of common sense.
And now, here she was, standing next to a window in an empty cabin in the middle of a snowstorm. Still struggling with her poor choices and self-doubts.
“One day you’re going to learn to think ahead, Tricia Warner,” she said to the empty room. “Maybe even look at a weather report before you take off on your own into the woods.”
The words seemed to echo back at her, taunting her with her own insecurities and pain when she glanced out the window again . . . and then spied a glimmer of light in the distance. The cavalry had arrived. Or at least one of the members of the Magnificent Eight. As she watched the light brighten, she gripped the window frame, feeling the same mixture of anticipation and dread that she’d felt when she called Andy.
Because if there were any people in the world who knew her faults almost as well as Andy and herself, it was the Eight, and most especially Logan Clark.
Deciding to go out and greet Logan—or whoever it was who’d shown up—Tricia put on a coat, mittens, and a hat. And she vowed right then and there that she would do her best to keep her mouth shut while her rescuer chewed her out for being so stupid to come here all alone.
She’d keep her chin up, say she was sorry and grateful for their trouble, and would listen to a lecture the whole way home. Anything would be better than being stuck in this cabin all alone for another hour.
Feeling as prepared as she possibly could be, she walked outside and waved to the approaching sleigh and pair of horses. As it got closer, she saw that a lantern was keeping the driver company on the bench. He was also bundled up like a small child sent out to play. He had on a knit cap, a thick black scarf, a wool coat, and gloves. Actually, if she didn’t know his posture and blue eyes so well, she might not have even recognized him.
Though she knew she should be feeling nothing but relief, Tricia was currently feeling a little sick.
For some reason, though Andy had said he was going to call Logan, she hadn’t imagined that he would actually come.
Okay, maybe she’d cautiously hoped that it would be someone else besides her secret crush.
Yes, the Lord really did have a sense of humor. A wicked good one.
There she was, standing out in the snow, dressed in stretchy black pants that were far too tight, fur-lined boots, an ivory stocking hat and matching mittens, and a dove-gray nylon coat. Even from a distance he could see that her brown eyes were studying him intently.
He also noticed that her lips had a swipe of pink gloss on them. Or maybe he was imagining that last part because he’d stared at those lips far too much over the last few years.
Lord, help me, he silently prayed. Help me be the friend Tricia needs instead of the man who can’t seem to stop thinking about her at the worst possible times.
“Hey, Logan!” She held up a hand, waving hello.
As he tugged on the horses’ leads and slid to a stop, Logan raised a hand, too, all the while reminding himself to remember just who beauti
ful Tricia Warner was—Andy’s little sister. She was also spoiled, silly, and Englisch. All four of those things should’ve been enough for him to keep his thoughts about her to a minimum. But now, like it had always been, none of those things seemed to matter when he was within two feet of her.
Fact was, he was smitten.
For about the thirty-third time, Logan wished he had ignored the phone when Andy rang. Andy would have called someone else. Marie or John B. or even Harley could have come up here to rescue Tricia instead, and he could have stayed safely away.
But it seemed that wasn’t meant to be.
Feeling like he was tumbling down a hill, he got out of the sleigh and greeted her.
“Hiya, Tricia. How are you doing?” Even in the dim twilight, he could see that her cheeks had pinkened.
“If you mean how am I doing besides being embarrassed that my brother had to call you for help and that you had to drive out here in a snowstorm to come to my rescue?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m great. How are you?”
Him? Oh, he was staring at her lips again and ashamed of that fact. “Cold,” he said instead.
Those perfect lips parted, and pain flashed in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
He could be such a jerk. “Nee—”
“I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course you’re freezing,” she added in a rush. “Come inside. I have a fire going.” Before he could say another word, she added awkwardly, “Or do you just want to turn around? If so, I can hurry and get my things together.”
“Nee, Tricia. Don’t hurry on my account. It was a longer trip up here than I had anticipated. I need a break.”
“Oh! Good.” She smiled before looking hesitant again. “I mean, of course you do. Well, come on in. The heat is off but it’s a whole lot warmer inside than out here.”
“I need to tend to the horses first.” Pointing to the shed off to the side of the cabin, he said, “Let me unhitch them and let them rest for an hour or two.”
In a rush she started toward them. “Of course. I’ll help you.”
Friends to the End Page 1
