Fearless Hope: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

sitting atop a hill. It was plain, square, and white, but even though it was late fall, he had a vision of pink roses growing up one side. A grape arbor with two benches stood near, covered with denuded grapevines. The yard had a white fence that set it off from the surrounding pasture. A long lane wound up to the house with its large front porch. What appeared to be a small fruit orchard grew on one side.
    It was not that special, at least not in Amish country, but he could not take his eyes off the place.
    “Watch out!” Marla cried.
    He jerked the car back onto the road, narrowly missing the ditch.
    “What’s wrong with you?” Her voice was shaking. “Have you been drinking again?”
    He slowed to a crawl so that he could look without putting their lives at risk. “It’s that house.”
    “What about it?”
    “It seems strangely familiar. And no, I haven’t been drinking.”
    “I thought you said you’d never been to Ohio.”
    “I haven’t.”
    He drove past it slowly. One field over was another square, sturdy-looking house with a For Sale sign on it. He pulled into the driveway and sat looking at it. It, too, felt familiar. This made no sense. What was it about these two houses that made him wish he could go knock on the door?
    There was nothing special about either of the houses, but even the lay of the land had a profound emotional effect on him.
    At that moment, a middle-aged woman dressed in bib overalls and dirty Crocs came walking up the driveway and motioned for him to roll down his window, which he did.
    “Can I help you people?” the woman asked.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “We were just looking for a place to turn around and I stopped for a second to admire the house.”
    “It’s a nice old home.” She brushed some straw off her bibs. “I’m Verla Grayson, the Realtor in charge of this place. Sorry if I look like something the cat drug in, I was helping my husband birth a calf down at our place and just walked up to check on things. If you want to look around, I have some free time and a key.”
    He glanced at Marla, who had a bemused expression on her face. She was not used to seeing Realtors dressed in bib overalls.
    “Do you mind going in?” he asked her.
    “I don’t see the point.” Marla checked her watch. “But we do have some time left before the pottery store closes.”
    He was grateful. Marla could be quite gracious when she tried, but he already knew that the Realtor would be a highlight of Marla’s next luncheon with her girlfriends. She was not a cruel person, but she loved to make people laugh, and was probably already figuring out exactly how she would tell this story for its greatest effect. He was fairly certain the whiff ofcow manure emanating from Verla would figure prominently in the recital.
    “So, are you two kids in the market for a house?” Verla dug a key out of the side pocket of her bibs.
    Logan wondered what he should say. That the house had practically called his name from the road? That he felt like he had a connection to it even though he’d never set foot in Ohio before? It sounded too weird, even to him, who made a living by making up stories.
    “Up until a few minutes ago, I had no idea we were looking for a house,” Marla said. “But I guess I was wrong.”
    He stood on the front porch gazing around while Verla unlocked the door. The familiarity of everything was striking. He felt as though he had spent time right here on this porch. Except he hadn’t. There was no way he could have.
    “Oh, come look, dear,” Marla called. “A huge kitchen. I would be able to do all my cooking and canning in here.”
    “Of course.”
    There wasn’t a whole lot else he could say. Marla did not cook, and she didn’t have the faintest idea how to can. Her expertise with their coffeemaker and microwave was as far as it went. If a man wanted to be with Marla, he needed to be prepared to spend lots of time in restaurants.
    He felt mildly dizzy from the