Copyright
ISBN 978-1-59310-492-4
Copyright © 2005 by Christine Lynxwiler. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.
Prologue
Seventeen-year-old Brandi Delaney paused at the top of the stairs. Jake McFadden had his back to her, but she could imagine his dark blue eyes and flashing dimples. She’d been surprised when he’d called and asked her to go with him to Dana’s party. In addition to the fact that he was the cutest guy in the senior class, she could think of another really good reason to say yes.
Just last week Jake and Tammy Roland had called it quits. The word in the halls was that he’d done the dumping. Which meant Tammy—who had personally appointed herself as Brandi’s tormentor—would be furious when she saw them together. Brandi hated to admit it, but she could hardly wait.
“Hey, Jake. Sorry I wasn’t down here to let you in.” She stepped off the bottom stair and smiled.
Jake spun around. His grin began slowly and spread across his face. Even though she’d only known him as part of the “in” crowd, she loved that grin.
“Hi. No problem.” He chuckled. “Valerie let me in. I guess she’s your little sister?”
Brandi groaned. “Yeah.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.
He smiled. “Well, if she ever gets tired of elementary school, I think she could make it in the CIA. After she finished my interrogation, she went to tell your parents I was here.”
Heat crept up Brandi’s cheeks. She loved her sister, but there was no telling what the overprotective little half-pint had asked Jake. “It gets worse.”
His eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I promised Mom and Dad I’d bring you in to meet them. They’re in the kitchen.”
“Oh. No problem.”
Brandi led him to the kitchen and quickly made the introductions. She was thankful her mom kept her dad from continuing Valerie’s questioning, and within minutes Brandi and Jake were in his truck zooming off to the party.
The soft country music drifting from the radio took away the pressure to make conversation. Brandi rested her head against the seat. This was her first date in Arkansas. She’d been grief-stricken since her family moved here at the beginning of the school year. Her mom called it pouting. Brandi preferred mourning. But graduation was next week, and then she was California-bound.
“So are you going on the class trip?” Jake’s voice jerked her out of her California-dreamin’, as her dad called it.
“I don’t think so.”
“You should. It’ll be fun.”
“When you’ve had season tickets to Disneyland, Silver Dollar City doesn’t quite cut it.”
His smile faltered. “I guess. We’re going to Branson, too.”
“Country music, my favorite.”
At her sarcastic comment the remains of his smile faded, replaced by a wooden expression. He turned the radio off with a snap.
She cringed. Her mom warned her constantly about her sharp tongue. Her brain fumbled for something positive to say. “I. . .” She was at a loss. Sometimes it was best not to say anything.
Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. Her dad had slipped that Bible verse from the book of Matthew under her door last week and then given her a lecture that night.
Didn’t he see that, if she gave Arkansas a chance in her heart, it would be a betrayal to all her friends in California? She’d tried to explain it to him often enough, but apparently he couldn’t get it.
When they finally arrived at the party, Jake jumped out and opened her door.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” His easy manner had vanished; she didn’t like the new stiff Jake nearly as well.
“Listen. When I said—”
“Don’t worry about it. This isn’t California. Never will be. And I’m glad.” He raised his chin defiantly. “I thought maybe I’d gotten the wrong impression of you. But I guess I was right in the first place.”
Dana’s parents opened the door before Brandi could try again to apologize. The couple said hello and disappeared into the huge house. Music reverberated from the sound system. Kids were sitting around in clusters talking as she and Jake wandered into the living room.
“Sodas are in the kitchen—and chips and dip,” Dana called from the corner love seat where she was looking through CDs with a couple of juniors.
“You want a soda?” Jake asked.
At least he was talking to her again. “Sure.”
They threaded through the crowd to the kitchen. As soon as the door opened, Brandi recognized Tammy Roland and her posse standing by the chips.
❧
Jake put a proprietary hand on Brandi’s arm. She looked up at him, trying to gauge his expression. Was he protecting her? Or just showing they were together? He guided her toward the drinks without a second glance at Tammy.
Stephanie, one of the girls from Tammy’s group, joined Jake and Brandi at the drink table. Just as Brandi took a sip, the girl brushed against her. Brown soda and ice splashed down the front of Brandi’s new blue shirt.
“Oh!” Stephanie grabbed napkins and started swiping at the spreading stain. “I’m so sorry!”
Jake stood back, obviously unsure what to do with a soda-doused date.
“Here—let me see,” Tammy purred, appearing at Brandi’s side, sympathy etched on her beautiful face. “Bless your heart. Let’s go to the bathroom and get this cleaned up.” She smiled at Jake. “I’ll have her back to you as good as new in no time.”
For a fleeting second Brandi wondered if she’d dreamed every mean thing Tammy had said and done to her since the beginning of the year.
As soon as the two of them were in the bathroom, Tammy grabbed a washcloth and ran warm water over it. “It was really nice of you to go out with Jake.” Her voice poured like molasses, slow and sticky.
Tammy pulled the shirt away from Brandi’s skin and slopped water onto the front, effectively diluting the soda but drenching the fabric.
“He was so desperate to make me jealous.” Tammy tossed her long hair back over her shoulder. “But I guess he told you that.”
Brandi stared at her. How could a voice so sweet say such evil things?
“Oh, no.” Tammy grimaced and let go of the wet blouse. “He didn’t tell you.”
The dripping material clung to Brandi’s skin. She shivered.
“I’m sorry. Jake is usually nicer than that. I figured since Les told me—”
Brandi snatched the cloth from the brunette’s hand. “I think I can handle this.”
“In that case I’m going out and give Jake a piece of my mind for not letting you in on the game.” Before Brandi could stop her, Tammy slipped from the room, leaving a cloud of confusion in her wake.
Had Jake really used her? Or was this more of Tammy’s lies?
Brandi stayed in the bathroom until her shirt had almost dried. The stain still stood out like a sore thumb, but at least it wasn’t soaked.
She walked into the living room and spied Jake, just as Tammy threw her arms aro
und him. Brandi’s heart squeezed. She could feel the eyes of her classmates on her.
“Brandi.” Jake unlatched Tammy’s arms from around his neck and walked over to Brandi. “Are you okay?”
She met Tammy’s glittering gaze over his shoulder. “Yes, I’m fine. And so are you, I see.” She forced a painful smile. “I’m glad you two worked things out.” You deserve each other.
Jake blushed. “Do you want us to take you home?”
“No, thanks. I saw Elizabeth in the hall. I’ll catch a ride with her.”
Brandi held her head high and walked out of the room, praying with every step that God would give her strength to hold back the tears until she was alone.
California, here I come.
One
If Brandi Delaney hadn’t known better, she’d have thought she was arriving in Japan in the peak of monsoon season instead of north Arkansas in early autumn. About an hour after she’d crossed the Oklahoma border into the Natural State, the steady downpour that had been her traveling companion escalated into a torrential flood.
Squinting through the windshield, she cranked the wipers to hyperspeed. The swish-swish, screech-screech grated on her already taut nerves. Why couldn’t her parents have stayed in sunny California where God had finally planted them?
Water gushed down the ditches on either side of the two-lane highway. The potholes in the oft-patched road were filled to the brim, so the last several miles had been like playing dodge ball with nature. She gripped the steering wheel tighter and cast a glance at the convertible top. At least it was waterproof.
Lord, I know I’ve been asking You for a better attitude about this trip, but now I’m begging You just to get me there safely.
She slowed. Keeping her gaze on the road she felt around in the seat for the little map—exact directions to Delaney’s Bed-and-Breakfast. Eight years had passed since she’d lived there with her parents. But before the ink had dried on her high school diploma, she’d escaped back home to California to stay with her grandmother and attend college. She’d never returned.
And in spite of what her family might think, her absence wasn’t because she was still angry that they’d ripped her away from her friends, not to mention the beach, right before her senior year. Why would she hold a grudge just because, after finally settling in one place for four years, her parents had uprooted again and moved the Delaney family to the land time forgot?
Okay, maybe she was a little bitter. But she’d kept in touch. The whole family met twice a year in Colorado. That had been enough until a week ago.
That phone call had turned her scheduled life upside-down, and if she was reading the map and her memory right, a low-water bridge and one right turn down a wooded lane were all that stood between her and the chaos her family now called everyday life. She tossed the paper on the passenger seat and peered at the road. The bridge loomed straight ahead.
She stopped the car and stared at the small white slab of concrete. It looked so insignificant. Water gushed across the top, but she’d crossed deeper mud holes in this car so she wasn’t worried. Not about the water.
Was she about to cross over to another dimension, another life completely? Give up her hard-won independence and be governed again by her family’s needs? She’d driven all the way from California, concentrating on the road trip and avoiding the thought of the end of her journey. But once she drove across that bridge there would be no turning back.
Who was she kidding? There’d been no turning back since she’d discovered Gram needed her.
She inched the compact convertible closer and switched her headlights to bright, stifling an impatient grunt at the delay. She was thankful only a few inches of water rushed across the platform, leaving the solid white concrete still easily visible. Her car was a far cry from the four-wheel-drives that seemed to be native to this area, but it should be able to handle this challenge, as long as she held steady in the center of the one-lane bridge.
She eased the convertible onto the concrete slab then gasped. Could that force be those measly inches of water? With a sudden flash of distant memory she recalled a neighbor cautioning her family about crossing low-water bridges when it was raining. She’d tuned out the dire warning, as she had most everything then, but it had apparently stuck in her subconscious eight years ago, only to surface now a minute too late.
She gripped the steering wheel. No matter how she turned it, though, the car moved at the mercy of the raging current. Brandi’s stomach roiled. She fumbled for the switch and rolled down her window. The loud rushing of the water made it hard to think. Should she jump?
Oh, Father. Please help me.
She wiped the rain from her face and peered down at the writhing waves. With a shudder she dropped her head back against the seat, heart slamming against her ribcage, as the car did a slow dance off the bridge into the raging current.
❧
What kind of idiot would drive onto the low-water bridge with the creek rushing across it?
A spoiled California girl with more beauty than brains. Jake McFadden answered his own question as the car turned sideways and swept off into the current. A tiny red convertible. And no doubt the driver was just the person he was looking for.
He’d volunteered to drive out to check on the status of the creek and to be sure Elva’s granddaughter, Brandi, hadn’t gotten stranded on the other side of the bridge. It had never occurred to them she might be in real danger. But then they’d never imagined her trying to cross with water over the bridge. People who did that most often ended up in cemeteries.
His pulse raced as he threw his truck into park. He jumped out and ducked as rain pelted him like bird shot. Halfway down the creek bank he groaned at his own folly. What power did he have against the raging creek?
He doubled back and grabbed a rope and lanyard from his toolbox. Pain shot through his shoulder. The doctor’s words about avoiding a reinjury echoed in his head, but he had no choice. He couldn’t let the girl drown. He gritted his teeth against the pain and took off at a dead run down the bank.
The tightness in his chest eased when he saw the red car, upright, wedged in a fork of an old log that protruded into the water. It must be perched on the submerged tree that, judging from the weather-beaten appearance of the huge limbs sticking up out of the water, had lain halfway across the creek for a long time.
He could see Brandi still buckled in the driver’s seat. Her window was down, but water hadn’t reached the opening yet.
“Don’t move!” he yelled, but the words blew back into his face with the driving rain.
He secured the rope to a big oak and tied the other end to his belt. With the lanyard dangling from his belt loop, he heaved himself up onto the fallen tree and inched along the trunk toward the car.
Brandi had unfastened her seat belt and was about to open the door. Every movement rocked the car, threatening to dislodge the vehicle from the safety of its nest in the crook of the tree limbs and send it back into the rapidly flowing water.
“No!” This time she heard him. Even through the downpour he could see her startled blue eyes.
“I have to get out of here! The car isn’t stable!” she screamed.
“No kidding,” Jake murmured under his breath, carefully weighing each step along the slippery bark. “Be still!” he yelled. “I’ll have you out in no time.” Just because she’d done something incredibly stu—okay, just because she’d used bad judgment didn’t mean she didn’t need reassurance.
Where was a good fireman when you needed him? If his brother Clint were there, he’d know exactly what to do. Instead Brandi was stuck with the youngest McFadden brother—a washed-up pro-baseball player who couldn’t hold on to his high school sweetheart, much less rescue a damsel in distress.
He grunted at the unexpected wave of self-loathing. Just last night he’d told his parents he was handling his season-ending shoulder injury fine. They hadn’t mentioned Tammy, and neither had he.
His foot slip
ped, and he sat down hard on the submerged log, catching himself under the water with his right arm. Red-hot pain seared through his shoulder. Nausea washed over him. He bit his tongue to keep from yelling but scrambled to his feet.
He was almost near enough to touch the car when it shifted positions.
Brandi opened the car door.
“Jump!”
Their eyes locked for a moment. She seemed to be considering his command. Jake wondered if she recognized him. His disastrous date with the frosty beauty at the end of their senior year had driven him right back into his ex-girlfriend’s arms. And shortly after that, something, although he doubted seriously it had anything to do with him, had propelled Brandi Delaney to California as fast as she could go. Would that fiasco of a date eight years ago cause her to distrust his advice in this crucial moment?
Please, Lord, let her trust me.
“Brandi! Jump now!”
Just as the convertible slipped into the raging current, she leaped into the creek, landing between two large limbs. Jake murmured a prayer of thanks when she quickly grabbed onto the one nearest him.
Her legs and feet were visible just beneath the surface of the water as the strong force tried to yank her arms from the limb.
“Hold on.” Jake tied the rope to a branch as high as he could reach and clipped the loose end of the lanyard onto it.
He straddled the log and, with his legs clasped tight around it, stretched out on his stomach, straining to fasten the lanyard onto her belt loop so she’d be secured by the rope. His shoulder protested, but he pushed harder, trembling with relief when the latch snapped into place.
He forced a calm note of confidence into his voice. “You probably don’t remember me, but I’m Jake McFadden. We’re going to get you out of here.”
“We?” She clutched the branch and looked over his shoulder as if she expected a squadron of Rescue Rangers to be crowded behind him on the log.
“God and me!” he shouted. “Mostly Him.”
She barely nodded. “Thanks.”
“We’ll have you home shortly.”
“Okay.” Her voice was as weak as the mewling of a newborn kitten.
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