Love Finds You in Paradise, Pennsylvania

205 Pages·2009·0.91 MB·English

by  Loree Lough

BY LOREE LOUGH
summeRSIde
PRESS
Love Finds You in Paradise, Pennsylvania
© 2009 by Loree Lough
ISBN 978-1-934770-66-5
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations
in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW
® ®
INTERNATIONAL VERSION . NIV . Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society.
Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
The town depicted in this book is a real place, but all characters are fictional. Any resemblances to actual
people or events are purely coincidental.
Cover and Interior Design by Müllerhaus Publishing Group www.mullerhaus.net
Published by Summerside Press, Inc., 11024 Quebec Circle, Bloomington, Minnesota 55438 |
www.summersidepress.com
Fall in love with Summerside.
Printed in the USA.
Dedication
For Larry, light of my life and stirrer of my soul, for whom I’m happy to obey
1 CORINTHIANS 7:10: “Let not the wife depart from her husband.”
Special mention to Rachel and Connie, the best editors ever; to Jason and
Carlton, who welcomed this humble author with open arms; to my once-abused
and now-spoiled dog, who put aside his Frisbee addiction long enough for me to
write this story; and last but certainly not least, to Sandie Bricker, the first to say,
“Send something to Summerside!”
WHEN FRENCH HUGUENOT SETTLERS ARRIVED in southeastern Pennsylvania in
1712, they must have suspected that their beautiful new homeland might one day
be called Paradise. The name was chosen by one of the town’s founders, David
Witmer, who was a friend to George Washington and supervisor of a section of
the Philadelphia and Lancaster Turnpike. Today, that road is Lincoln Highway,
where historic inns and restaurants like Revere Tavern have stood since the
1700s. Steeped in rich history, the town’s friendly people and peaceful vistas
inspired the 1994 film Trapped in Paradise, which stars Nicholas Cage. Home to
the National Christmas Center and the National Toy Train Museum, Paradise
boasts dozens of gift and craft shops, antiques stores, delightful eateries, quaint
B and Bs, and a thriving Amish community. Visitors to Paradise can view acres
of rolling green countryside while steaming along the tracks of the Strasburg
Rail Road and wave to Amish farmers who travel in traditional horse-drawn
buggies. Few leave this township without tipping their hats to David Witmer, for
he truly understood the meaning of Paradise.
Prologue
A warm wind whiffled through the open car window, mussing Julia’s hair.
Turning onto Lincoln Highway, she drove past shops and businesses still
bustling with activity, though the workday had nearly ended. Cars and minivans
bearing license plates from all over the country still sat in the Basketville
parking lot, and even the Amish Trader still seemed to be doing a brisk business.
Julia couldn’t help but smile.
Before returning to her birthplace, she’d gone out of her way to avoid crowds.
When she’d first come back “home,” she’d taken long roundabout routes to get
to and from her job in Lancaster just to avoid the noise and traffic that went hand
in hand with the flutter of tourists who flocked to Paradise every day of the year.
And now? Julia laughed to herself, because she’d gotten almost as caught up in
the happy beehive of activity as the sightseers themselves!
After steering onto Pine Hill Road, she turned up the volume to the song
playing on WJTL…the only radio station her old beat-up sedan could pull in.
Why not sing along? Just because her attitude toward church and God had
changed over the years didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy her favorite hymn.
Should she credit “Amazing Grace” for the calm that settled over her? Or was
it the knowledge that just over the next lush green hill, her house would come
into view? The questions broadened her grin. If anyone had told her six months
ago that she’d move back to Paradise, Julia would’ve pooh-poohed the idea. And
if they’d suggested she’d be happy here? I’d have laughed out loud!
No matter how hectic her day had been, pulling into the driveway of her very
own place felt good—so good that Julia almost felt guilty. What had she done in
her twenty-eight years to earn three rambling acres and a two-story house,
complete with a white picket fence? Nothing, that’s what, she told herself.
And just that fast, an all-too-familiar sadness pricked at her consciousness.
“Shake it off, Julia. Put it out of your mind, right now!” Her take-it-on-the-chin
attitude about the hard knocks she’d survived resurfaced as she took another
breath of clean country air. So what if she didn’t have a single living family
member? And so what if her dreams of a husband and children could never come
true? She’d met some wonderful people, and she had a good job and her four-
legged friends at the Wolf Sanctuary. Lots of people would count themselves
lucky to have her life. “Some aspects of it, anyway….”
Chapter One
“Why would anybody do such a thing?”
Simon had no idea how to answer the five-year-old boy, so he shrugged
helplessly. He’d stopped by to visit Levi—the closest thing to a son he’d likely
ever have—and came to a halt when he realized what had commanded the
Gundens’ full attention.
Levi’s father ran a hand over the bullet holes that had pierced his white-
painted barn. “Gottes wille,” he said, nodding.
Simon stared slack-jawed at William Gunden. Having known the Gundens
more than a decade, he considered this man a friend; but while he had a lot in
common with the family, the differences between them and him never seemed
more obvious than at times like this. Far be it from him to tell William how to
raise his children, but his conscience hammered at him to say something,
anything, that might erase the look of shock and fear from Levi’s face. “The
world can be a strange place,” he said, “and not everybody is kind and loving.”
Simon got onto one knee and plopped a palm onto each of the boy’s shoulders.
“Sometimes people make bad choices, choices that hurt others.”
Levi’s blond brows drew together. “Shooting at our barn wasn’t a bad choice,”
he snapped. “It was mean.”
While Simon couldn’t have agreed more, he didn’t say so. Already he’d
overstepped his bounds, as evidenced by the stern expression on William’s face.
“It is hard, I know,” William said, “to understand such things. But God does
not call us to understand. He calls us only to obey.”
Crossing both arms over his chest, Levi shook his head. If the look on Levi’s
face was any indicator, the boy would’ve given anything to state the opposite.
Loudly.
“It is by God’s grace,” William continued, “that they were such poor shots.”
Winking at Simon, he added, “Missed the cows, there, and the horses, too.” Then
he pointed at his youngest son. “Levi, go to the house and see if your mama
needs help collecting the eggs. And tell her I will be up soon for lunch.”
The boy gave the bullet holes one last glance and did as he was told. Only
when he was out of earshot did Simon say, “I worry about you, William.”
The farmer stroked his dark beard. “And why is that?”
“You’re way out here in the middle of nowhere, for starters. Sitting ducks for
the wackos and weirdos who do things like”—he gestured toward the damage in
the barn wall—“like that. At least let me call the cops and report it, so they can
drive by once in a while and keep an eye on—”
William held up a hand. “No, Simon. You must not involve the police. It will
only make things worse. Remember what happened when the Beachys talked to
them.”
If only Simon could forget.
Adjusting his straw hat, William smiled. “Do not worry for us.” Then he gave
Simon’s hand a hearty shake. “But now I am keeping you from your work, and
from my own as well,” he said. “Remember as you go that we are safe in God’s
hands.”
Simon thought about that during the half-hour drive to the Wolf Sanctuary.
About a year ago, a carload of rowdy teenage boys had decided to target the
Beachy farm. Night after night they had assaulted the family, first paintballing
the house and then tossing cinder blocks onto the mailbox. Throughout the
summer the attacks continued, until a neighbor dialed 911 to report that a little
Amish girl, on her way to the schoolhouse, had been knocked unconscious by a
full soda can tossed from a passing car. The boys—identified by the concerned
citizen—served a year in jail for their crimes, and not long after their release, the
Beachys’ buggy was forced from the road, killing their horse and eldest son.
As occasional vet to the Beachys, Simon had attended the funeral and watched
as they quietly and uncomplainingly buried their boy. Then, as now, he couldn’t
help but think that, somewhere, one of those vengeful teens smirked at the
knowledge that the peace-loving Amish refused to report even deadly attacks.
He breathed deeply as the sanctuary’s sign came into view. Few things
satisfied him more than time spent here. The strong, magnificent beasts behaved
as though they knew he’d come to help them, and for the most part, they
cooperated with his exams. Chuckling under his breath as he slipped through the
sturdy chain-link gate, Simon glanced at proof not quite healed on his forearm
that not every member of the pack agreed with the need for periodic veterinary
checkups.
“Attaboy, Casper,” he said. Crouching slowly, he extended a hand. The wolf
approached slowly, head down and tail tucked as he sniffed Simon’s palm then
happily accepted a doggy treat. Casper was one of the sanctuary’s few outcasts,
and Simon made a point of paying special attention to him. He pitied any
creature—two-legged or four—that didn’t enjoy a sense of belonging. But here,
as in the wild, wolves had rules, and only they understood what Casper had done
to earn his shunning.
Without warning, Casper’s ears perked and he stared at something beyond
Simon’s right shoulder. Simon turned, too. Neither he nor the wolf could afford
to let their guard down for an instant, for if a member of one of the sanctuary’s
four packs decided that Casper shouldn’t communicate with Simon or enjoy a
treat, things could turn ugly in an eyeblink.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted the source of the wolf’s curiosity
—a young woman crooning softly to Fawn, another outcast. Clad in denim
coveralls and tiny white sneakers, she was oblivious to him, though he crouched
no more than twenty yards from her. “She’s mighty easy on the eyes, isn’t she,
buddy,” he whispered.
Casper sat on his haunches and gave Simon a big doggy grin then licked his
lips, hinting that he’d like another of the biscuits hidden in his pal’s shirt pocket.
Simon carefully placed two more near the animal’s forepaws and slowly rose to
his nearly-six-foot height. “Enjoy, buddy. I’ll be back later to say g’bye. Right
now, I’ve got things—and people—to check out.”
Casper’s demeanor changed the instant he realized that Simon would leave.
Eyes wide and ears flat, he mouthed the treats and hurried toward the thick
underbrush to hide from those who might steal his snack and inflict severe
punishment for delighting in creature comforts. Simon shook his head and
wished life could be gentler for the big white wolf. Things were better here than
in the wild, where Casper would surely have starved. Still…
A husky female voice floated to him on the warm spring breeze, interrupting
his thoughts. “Such a pretty girl,” she sang. “You like gettin’ your belly
scratched, don’t you?”
Amazingly, she’d coaxed the wolf onto her back. More amazingly, Fawn
wallowed and whimpered with gratitude, paws digging happily at the air…until
she spotted Simon. In one swift move, she stood on all fours, head tilted slightly
to the side, assessing the situation. Recognizing his scent, she relaxed some, but
he didn’t fail to note the way she’d scoped out a potential escape route, should
she need one. Nor did he fail to notice the way the young woman’s bright smile
dimmed. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you girls.”
She shrugged one white-sleeved shoulder and nodded toward the treeline. “No
biggie. Better you than one of those bullies over there.”
Simon followed her gaze. Sure enough, five wolves stood along the pines,
watching with suspicious interest. “Murphy’s the biggest one,” he said. “Alpha
male of Pack One. He’s a pretty gentle sort—”
“—usually,” she finished.
True enough, he thought. But how would she know that unless she spent a lot