by Deborah Heal
Deborah Heal
WRITEBRAIN BOOKS
WWW.DEBORAHHEAL.COM
Every Hill and Mountain
Copyright 2013 by Deborah Heal on Smashwords.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the author.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, institutions, or locales are intended solely to give a sense of authenticity. While every effort was made to be historically accurate, it should be remembered that these references are used fictitiously.
All Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version.
Other novels by Deborah Heal
The History Mystery Trilogy (in paperback, eBook, audiobook):
Time and Again (book 1)
Unclaimed Legacy (book 2)
The Rewinding Time Series (in paperback and eBook):
Once Again: an inspirational novel of history, mystery & romance (book 1)
Only One Way Home: an inspirational novel of history, mystery & romance (book 2)
How Sweet the Sound: an inspirational novel of history, mystery & romance (book 3)
A Matter of Time: an inspirational novel of history, mystery & romance (book 4)
More Than Meets the Eye: an inspirational novel of history, mystery & romance (book 5)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
About the Author
Let’s Keep in Touch
Acknowledgments
Introducing the Rewinding Time Series
BONUSES
An Excerpt from Once Again: book 1 in the Rewinding Time Series
FREE eBook “Charlotte’s House”
For my dad Earl Woods,
who was born and raised in the
hills of Eagle Creek
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
—Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Chapter 1
“Did Doug say how long this is going to take?” Abby said, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. “And remind me. Why exactly are we using this antique instead of an electric one?”
“He said using an electric ice cream maker meant it didn’t count as homemade,” John said, wiping his forehead with first his left T-shirt sleeve and then his right.
“Really?”
“Really. And I’m supposed to crank until I can’t turn it anymore.”
The day was typical for southern Illinois in late August: hot and humid. At least she was sitting on an icy, albeit uncomfortable, seat in the shady pavilion. Doug Buchanan had to be sweltering out in the sun where he manned the deep-fat fryer along with three of his cousins. Wearing a Cardinals cap to keep the sun off his balding head and an apron that said, “Kiss the Cook,” Doug looked so friendly and benign that Abby wondered again how she had ever thought of him as The Hulk.
One of Doug’s cousins gestured their way and said something that she couldn’t make out. Whatever it was made the other men laugh.
A short distance away, under the shade of a maple tree, Jason and Jackson, Doug’s twin teenage sons were practicing their washer-throwing skills in preparation for the tournament to be held tomorrow. The washers clinked and clacked, depending upon how, or whether, they hit the sand-filled wooden boxes. Those sounds, along with the rhythm of the turning crank and the hot afternoon, made Abby drowsy, and she surveyed the activities going on around her through a sleepy haze.
Next to them, Doug’s wife Dora and a dozen other Buchanan women began unpacking coolers and setting out dish after dish onto the groaning picnic tables under Alton City Park Pavilion #1. Abby turned and smiled at the look on John’s face as cakes, pies, bowls of watermelon chunks, and dozens of other goodies made their appearance.
“Hey, Dora, is that potato salad?” he asked.
“Yep,” she said with a wide smile. “And I brought macaroni salad and deviled eggs.”
John sighed blissfully.
“This is nothing. Wait’ll tomorrow,” Doug called to them. “That’s when the ladies go all out. I heard Aunt Hil’s making her chocolate chip cake.”
Under the second pavilion reserved for the event, Eulah and Beulah played dominoes with several of the other elderly relatives. Fanning themselves with paper plates, they chattered happily while they waited their turns.
Abby smiled and a wave of contentment washed over her, knowing that she had been instrumental in getting the Old Dears in touch with their Buchanan relatives. And now the 85-year-old twins were at their first-ever family reunion.
Eleven-year-old Merri came over, panting and red-faced, but smiling. On each arm clung—as they had from the first half hour there—an adoring little girl. One little blonde looked about four, the other about six.
“What are you doing?” Abby asked.
“We’re taking a break from the kiddie games,” Merri said. “I’m hot.”
Merri was a different girl from the one Abby had met when she had arrived at the beginning of summer to be her tutor. Naturally, she still had her moments of sadness and snarky attitude. After all, her mother was hardly ever around and her father was serving time in Joliet Prison. But Eulah and Beulah had made her their pretend granddaughter and invited her to come along to the Buchanan reunion.
Abby pushed Merri’s hair away from her sweaty face and grinned. “It’s hard work being an honorary cousin, isn’t it?”
Merri frowned, but it was easy to see she loved the little girls’ attention. “Yeah, tell me about it,” she said. “Is the ice cream about done?”
“Not quite,” John said. “I can still turn the crank. Slowly, but still.”
“Come on, Mewwi,” the smaller girl lisped. “Wet’s go swing on the swings.”
“Okay,” Merri said good-naturedly. She turned to look back as she was being dragged away. “But don’t forget, John. You’re on my team in the water balloon war.”
“I won’t forget, squirt.”
Abby lifted her hair and waited for a breeze to cool her own sweaty neck.
John blew gently and then leaned down to kiss it. “Watch out, girlie. That’s what led to the ice incident before.”
Earlier John had put a piece of ice down the back of her T-shirt, which had made her leap up from the i
ce cream churn with a squeal. He had chased her around the pavilion threatening her with more ice until she told him to behave or he’d have to get someone else to help.
John’s breath on her neck did anything but cool her off. Abby leaned back and kissed his cheek. “Just stick to your job, ice cream boy.”
Doug Buchanan brought a huge platter of fried fish over and handed it to his wife. “Is the ice cream about done, John?”
“I’m still cranking.”
Doug laughed and glanced back at his grinning cousins. “You can stop now. Anyone else would have quit a half hour ago. Anyone with normal-sized muscles, anyway.”
“Dang it, Doug!” John said. “I think my arm may fall off.”
Abby rose from her bumpy perch and rubbed her sore rear. “Yes, and a certain part of my anatomy.”
Doug packed the ice cream maker with more ice and covered it with thick blankets. Then, after conferring with the women about the readiness of the food, he put his fingers to his mouth and whistled for everyone to come and eat.
After Reverend Goodson, the Old Dears’ pastor, prayed an uncharacteristically short prayer, Merri and a gaggle of other kids converged on the food table. Dora shooed them back and invited the oldest members of the family, including Eulah and Beulah, to fill their plates first. John held Eulah’s plate while she made her selections, and Abby held Beulah’s, and then they helped the ladies onto the awkward picnic benches near their friends.
Then she and John filled their plates and went to sit by Merri.
“What’s that pinky fluffy stuff?” John said, pointing to Merri’s plate.
“Dora said it’s a salad, but it tastes good enough to be dessert.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said after he had swallowed what looked to Abby like a mountain-sized bite of potato salad. “I’m going to get some on my next trip.”
“This is going to take a while, isn’t it?” Abby said.
“Yep,” John said.
“Could you try to hurry?” Merri said. “Me and Abby have to—”
“Abby and I,” Abby said.
“Whatever,” Merri said. “Anyway, we have to get home and get ready for our girls’ night with Kate. We’re going to make snickerdoodles and—”
“You are?” he said. “Bless you, my child. You know how I love snickerdoodles.”
“Well, you’re not a girl, John,” Merri explained earnestly. “So you know you can’t come to our girls’ night, right?”
“Yeah, John,” Abby said, patting his bicep. “You’re definitely not a girl.”
“That’s okay, Merri,” he said. “I’ll survive.”
“Merri, you’re going to love Kate,” Abby said. “She’s a riot.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
Abby laughed. “I mean, she’s a lot of fun. She always thinks of something crazy to do.”
After Abby’s disastrous roommate her freshman year at Ambassador College, Kate had been a Godsend. After only a few weeks as sophomores, they had become best friends. They didn’t share any classes together since Kate was majoring in art and Abby in elementary education. But together they had explored Chicago’s art museums to Kate’s delight, and bookstores and coffee shops to Abby’s.
While it was true that Kate’s personality was so different from her own, Abby knew they each brought balance to the friendship. As for herself, she needed to stop being so serious all the time, to lighten up and go with the flow once in a while. When Kate had decided to wear outdated and mismatched polyester clothes from the thrift store to the dining hall just to see people’s faces, Abby had gone along with the joke. Seeing the reactions had been educational, like one of the experiments in her sociology class. And it had been amazingly freeing to do something spontaneous and random.
But sometimes Kate needed Abby to be the voice of reason. When Kate got the idea to paint their dorm room purple suddenly after chapel one day, Abby had reminded her that she had a test to study for, and that they’d have to pay a small fortune in primer and paint to convert the walls back to boring white for the next students to occupy 205b Whitaker Hall.
Kate’s visit today was another example of her spontaneity. Abby had been trying to get Kate to come visit for weeks, but she had been caught up in a project with her mother and unable to get away. Then, just two hours ago, she’d texted to say she was coming. Now. But instead of spending their time together at Merri’s house as they had planned all along, Kate had proposed a “friend-fest weekend” in Equality, which according to John was a tiny, Podunk town three hours southeast of Alton.
She would have to talk Kate down from that hare-brained idea when she got there.
“Look at the idiot,” John said, gesturing with a thumb.
An electric blue PT Cruiser roared down the gravel road toward them, slowing only minimally before skidding to a stop alongside the pavilions.
White dust coated the windshield, and Abby couldn’t see the car’s occupants. But she recognized the ARTCRZY license plate and began to disentangle herself from the picnic table. “That idiot would be Kate,” she said with a laugh.
“Oh. Sorry.” John wiped his hands and rose from the picnic table.
“Come on, both of you,” Abby said. “I want to introduce you.”
Merri wiggled out of her space at the picnic table and went to stand expectantly at Abby’s side. “I thought she wasn’t supposed to be here until tonight.”
“She wasn’t,” Abby said. “But that’s Kate for you.”
The car door opened, and Kate stepped out and rushed toward Abby. She was wearing a pristine white sundress and heeled sandals. Her hair was a shining mahogany mane that fell halfway down her back.
Abby threw her arms around her friend. “You look fabulous. How did you find us?”
“We went to the house first, and Merri’s mom told us where you were.”
“It seems like ages since the beginning of summer break. Wait a minute,” Abby said, pulling back to look into Kate’s face. “We? We who?” Then, over her shoulder she saw Kate’s boyfriend unfolding his tall, lanky frame from the passenger seat. His polo shirt was the same brilliant white of Kate’s dress, and he wore charcoal gray tailored slacks.
Abby felt a quick burst of disappointment and shot a look at Kate, but she was looking at Ryan as if he were the best thing since the invention of air conditioning. She must have gone spontaneous again and decided to bring him along. So much for their girls-only weekend.
Abby pasted on a smile and said, “Ryan. You came too. Good. I want you to meet Merri and John. Guys, this is my infamous roommate Kate Greenfield and her boyfriend Ryan Turner.”
Ryan and John shook hands, but Kate thrust hers in Abby’s face. “Not boyfriend anymore—fiancé! I told you he was going to ask. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
The sun glinted off a huge diamond ring on Kate’s left hand. “You’re engaged? You didn’t tell me.” Abby shook her head to clear it. “I mean, yes, it’s gorgeous.”
“I wanted to surprise you. I’ve been dying to tell you ever since Ryan popped the question last weekend.”
Abby hugged her again. “Have you set a date?”
Ryan smiled contentedly. “Next June after Kathryn graduates,” he said with an indulgent smile. “One and a half carets of sparkle to hold her until then.” He put an arm around Kate’s neck and kissed her temple. “But don’t worry, Kathryn. I promise to upsize it as soon as I get my law practice.”
“Ryan just graduated from the pre-law program at the University of Illinois,” Abby explained to John.
“Really? I’ve never seen you around.”
“Chicago campus,” Ryan said. “I think Kathryn said you’re at Urbana?”
“That’s right. Where will you go to law school?”
“Loyola,” Ryan said. “It’s really the only choice.”
“Do you really think so?” John said. “I have my eye on Kent.”
Ryan pushed a strand of silky dark brown hair back from his face. It was
similar in color and texture to John’s, only freakishly perfect in cut and style.
Kate pulled her to the side and said in what passed for her version of a whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me how hot John is? Wow! No wonder you’ve been going crazy for him. We could have a double wedding, Abby.”
Abby blinked in panic, but sneaking a look at the guys, she saw that they were still talking about law schools. Hopefully, John hadn’t heard Kate’s outrageous comment. “Kate! We’ve only known each other for a few weeks.”
Kate just smiled knowingly and then turned and held out a hand to Merri. “You must be Merri,” she said. “Abby’s told me so much about you.”
Merri shook her hand, her expression changing to uncertainty. “Uh, really?”
“Really,” Kate said. “About how smart you are, and nice.”
Merri’s face brightened. “Abby told me about you, too. We’re going to my house after this.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Come on, let’s get you guys some food first,” Abby said. “Wait until you see the selection.”
“How about if John and I go get food so you two can get started gabbing?” Ryan said.
“You’re so thoughtful.” Kate patted his arm.
When the guys were lost in the crowd, Abby said, “Another imaginary star on Ryan’s imaginary chart?”
Kate grinned. “He just keeps on racking them up.”
“John, too,” Abby said. “I’ve lost track of how many stars he’s collected this week. But, hey, you’re the one with stars—in your eyes.” She put her arms around Kate and squeezed again. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Do you think I should tell Ryan about his chart—you know, since we’re engaged now?”
“No way! Well, at least not here with John around.” As far as Abby was concerned, the fact that they had been rating them as possible marriage material was something they never needed to know about.
