A Sister's Wish Read online

  Map

  Dedication

  To my editor, Chelsey Emmelhainz:

  If I didn’t have you in my corner, I know I couldn’t write books like this.

  Thank you for everything.

  And thank you again.

  The author is grateful for being allowed to reprint the Monster Cookies recipe from Country Blessings Cookbook by Clara Coblentz.

  The Shrock’s Homestead

  9943 Copperhead Rd. N.W.

  Sugarcreek, OH 44681

  Epigraph

  In thee shall all families of the earth be blessed.

  —GENESIS 12:3

  Life stops when you stop dreaming.

  Hope ends when you stop believing.

  Love ends when you stop caring.

  Friendship ends when you stop sharing.

  —AMISH PROVERB

  Contents

  Map

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . . * About the author

  About the book

  Read on

  Also by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Prologue

  Thirteen years ago

  He had almost made it.

  All he had to do was make it another two miles, then he’d be able to catch the bus to New Philly and eventually Mansfield. After that? Simon Hochstetler reckoned it didn’t really matter. He would be free and that was good enough.

  But for now, all he had to do was ignore the pain in his side, make it over the next bend, then finally hike through the northern edge of the Kinsingers’ property. Once he did all that, the road would be flat. A whole lot easier to walk on.

  He winced as he shifted his stuffed army-green backpack on his left shoulder, wishing that his right one wasn’t as bruised as it was. ’Course, if he was making wishes, he should probably start with wishing that he didn’t have a black eye or cut lip. From there he could wish his ribs weren’t hurting, either.

  His father had been in fine form tonight.

  He walked on, patting his pocket, feeling for the wad of money he’d been saving for the last year and kept hidden in an old coffee can near the woods. How long was it going to last? He had no idea how far eighty-eight dollars lasted in the city, but he was fairly sure it wouldn’t be far enough. He was going to need to figure out a way to make some cash, quick.

  Feeling panicked, he stopped to readjust his backpack.

  “Simon? Hey! I thought that was you,” Amelia Kinsinger called out, her voice ringing through the empty field like a bright, merry cowbell. “Whatcha doing?”

  He froze. Then, attempting to gather himself, he turned to watch her trot closer. A bright smile was on her face. She looked really pleased to have spied him.

  Though he knew better than to stay, he remained where he was. Even at only nine years old, little Amelia was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. White-blond hair, crystal-blue eyes, and pale skin that never seemed to tan, she was everything delicate and perfect. She was also sheltered and his best friend’s baby sister—and the only person who seemed to think he was worth something. Both of her brothers had confided that Amelia had a terrible crush on him. They’d thought it was embarrassing. Levi had even apologized for her.

  He hadn’t needed an apology, though. Simon had always thought Amelia’s infatuation made him something special. He’d never let on that he noticed the way she always looked at him. He never acted annoyed when she rushed over to tell him about her day. Instead of making fun of her, he’d been patient and often sat with her when her older siblings were too busy.

  But that said, he’d always taken care for her not to see him like this. He wanted to look worthy in her eyes. Not beaten and bruised.

  “Can’t talk right now, Amy,” he bit out as he started forward. He took care to keep his gaze fixated on the ground in front of him. Maybe then she wouldn’t catch sight of his eye.

  But, as usual, she didn’t listen to his warning. Instead, she picked up her pace. “Did you know that the sun is almost set? Where you going? It’s going to be dark soon.”

  “Ain’t none of your business.”

  She stumbled, then caught herself before he reached out to steady her.

  “Slow down, wouldja?” she said.

  “Can’t.”

  She sighed. “Why are ya being like this?” she asked, hurt in her tone. “All I asked is—”

  “Simon! What happened to you?”

  Unable to help himself, he drew to a stop. Then, because he probably was never going to see her again anyway, he allowed himself to lift his chin and let her look her fill. As he’d expected, she was staring at him in concern, her pale pink lips parted in wonder. And, he suspected, pity.

  “Go on home, Amelia.”

  “Did you . . . did your daed do that?” she whispered, letting him know that his secret had never actually been one. “Do you need something? Do ya need some help? ’Cause my daed’s home. If we went to him, I bet he’d help ya.”

  That was why she meant so much to him. Here he was, bruised and battered, running away from home, and she thought he could still be saved. “Your daed can’t help.”

  Tentatively, she held out a hand. Then, to his shock, she swiped at a patch of skin just to the side of his lip. When he flinched at her touch, she looked at him with sad eyes. “Sorry, but your lip is bleeding.” She held up her finger to show the stain.

  Seeing his blood on her hand was one of the worst things he’d ever experienced. It symbolized everything that was his life . . . and everything he didn’t want it to be. Unable to help himself, he grabbed her hand and roughly swiped it on his shirt. “Wash your hands when you get home, hear me?”

  “Oh. All right. But . . . but, Simon, won’t you come with me? You could wash up, too.”

  “Nee. I’ve gotta go.”

  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked softly. “Just like your brother and sister did.”

  He couldn’t lie to her. “Jah. I’m leaving. Just like Jeremy and Tess did.”

  “Please, don’t.”

  As much as he would have liked to do anything she asked, he couldn’t do that. “Listen, do me a favor, wouldja? Don’t tell nobody you saw me.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “But—”

  “They’ll find out soon enough. Just . . . just let me go, okay?” Then he did what he’d sworn he’d never do. He looked at her directly in the eyes and let her see his pain. “I have to do this, Amy.”

  Around a ragged sigh, looking so very sad, she nodded. “Okay.”

  “Bye, Amelia. You take care of yourself.”

  He started walking before she could reply. Before he did something stupid and followed her to her house. Before he thought about staying just a little longer so he could see her again.

  He started walking because no matter how difficult and scary it was to leave, he knew for certain it was always going to be a whole lot worse at home.

  Chapter 1

  Thursday, October 1

  Princess, nee!” Amel
ia shouted as she scrambled down the front steps. “Stop!”

  But Princess didn’t hear her. Actually, that probably wasn’t true. Princess no doubt heard her just fine. She simply didn’t care to pay much attention to what Amelia wanted her to do.

  Instead, the six-month-old pygmy goat continued to nonchalantly chew Oscar’s leash.

  From what Amelia could tell, the goat had been munching on it for some time. A good section of it was missing.

  Thank heavens her sister Rebecca’s bulldog puppy was unaware that he was free. Instead of running off as most dogs were wont to do, he was plopped on his side, enjoying the unexpected warmth of the October sun.

  After picking up the pup—who, at twenty pounds, was now really too big to carry—and depositing him inside the screen door of the house, Amelia braced herself. It was time to convince Princess that she really, really needed to begin minding her new owner.

  Her pet had a silky white coat, long eyelashes, and beady black eyes. Princess was pretty, smart, and could climb almost anything. She was also as ornery as one might expect of a young doe.

  Everyone had warned Amelia about this. Her siblings had begged her to return Princess to the farm where she’d bought her, saying that none of them had time to properly train the animal. But Amelia had steadfastly ignored both the warnings and the entreaties. She’d wanted this goat. Actually, she had wanted something to call her own, and a goat would do.

  It seemed she was as stubborn as her pet.

  “You silly girl,” Amelia said. “Rope ain’t gut for you. You must learn to leave it alone.”

  Princess bleated in reply.

  Unable to help herself, she laughed. “Jah, that is what I thought you might say.” After carefully pulling the last bit of rope out of Princess’s mouth, Amelia wrapped an arm around the pesky animal’s neck and guided her to the barn. “Lucky for you, I just put some fresh alfalfa in your stall. You can get your fill of that while I do my chores.”

  Just as she was about to step inside her cozy stall, however, Princess balked. With a grunt and a bleat, she pulled away.

  “Princess, I ain’t got time for this. It’s already two in the afternoon. I need to work on supper.” And the garden. And sweep the floors. All the chores that were up to Amelia to complete since she was the lone member of her household still at home.

  Really wishing that she’d put a harness or collar on her little goat, Amelia grabbed Princess around the middle and pulled her forward.

  But the doe froze, looking panicked, and bleated loudly.

  Frustrated beyond measure, Amelia pulled harder. “Come, now. I know you are stubborn, but you must start minding me!”

  Princess curled her lips, revealing lots of shiny, white, sharp teeth.

  Amelia glared right back. “What has gotten into you?” Stepping into the stall, she yanked on Princess again.

  “Bleat!” Princess protested frantically, and then kicked out her back legs, then the front, just like a bucking bronco.

  One tiny, surprisingly sharp hoof made contact with Amelia’s shin.

  More surprised than anything, Amelia threw her hands up in the air as she fell to the floor of the stall. And when her hand flew out to catch herself, she discovered why Princess had not wanted to be anywhere near her home.

  Because Amelia’s left hand landed on a snake.

  It didn’t take kindly to the interruption. It slithered, hissed, and bit her hand.

  Amelia cried out.

  Princess scrambled farther away.

  Fighting pain in both her palm and leg, Amelia gathered her wits, hobbled out of the stall, and at last leaned back against the wooden enclosure. Then she did exactly what she’d tried so hard to never do . . .

  She burst into tears. Terrible, loud, unapologetic tears. She was alone, she was in pain, and suddenly, she’d had enough. More than enough.

  Amelia Kinsinger cried for her mother, who’d died when Amelia was only seven. She cried for her father, who’d recently perished in a fire in her family’s lumber mill. She cried for her brother Levi, who had left town soon after.

  In short, she cried for everything she’d ever lost and everything she still had.

  But most of all, she cried because there was currently no one around to hear.

  IT SEEMED HE wasn’t capable of staying away.

  Yet, as Simon Hochstetler approached the stately white house that the Kinsingers had lived in for generations, he knew his best friend didn’t want him calling on his little sister. And for most of his life he’d honored Lukas Kinsinger’s wishes. But about four months ago, Simon had decided he was tired of waiting.

  He was twenty-eight years old. Now he was a manager at Kinsinger Lumber and had over thirty men reporting to him. More importantly, he’d been in love with Amelia Kinsinger for years. Since his return to Charm two years ago, he’d kept his distance out of respect for both her age and the fact that she was his best friend’s little sister, but when Amelia had started talking to him more, gazing at him longer, and smiling shyly whenever he teased her, Simon knew she returned his feelings. Since he was either going to hurt Amelia or disappoint Lukas, Simon knew there was only one way to go.

  And because he was not the type of man to wait when he wanted something bad enough, Simon had since found a way to see Amelia: A few weeks ago he’d begun to see her on the sly, visiting her when he knew no one else would be around.

  He wasn’t proud of this.

  If Amelia’s parents had been alive, he would have done whatever it took to persuade them to accept him as a prospective suitor. But they had both gone up to Heaven and there was no way he was going to beg and plead his case to his childhood friend or Amelia’s sister, Rebecca. Amelia was twenty-two and fully able to tell him if she didn’t want him around. So far, she’d been delighted by his visits.

  He’d told himself his visits were to give her some company—because Amelia worked at home by herself every day. But the truth was that Simon simply needed to be around her. Amelia was sweet, kind, and honest. She was beautiful, too. She was actually everything he’d ever wanted. More than he’d ever dared to yearn for.

  Being in her company made him forget the mistakes he’d made. Her smiles gave him hope and her acceptance made him feel clean and worthy. There was no way he was ever going to give that up without a fight.

  Still, even though he didn’t mind doing whatever it took to see her, Simon knew that wasn’t fair to Amelia. She deserved to have a man court her publicly. She deserved to see that Simon was willing to overcome any obstacle in order for her to be happy.

  In fact, he was practicing different ways to convince Lukas of this when he arrived at the Kinsingers’ house. Then, just as he began to walk up the front steps, he realized that something wasn’t quite right. It was too quiet, everything unnaturally still. Usually, Amelia would be outside on the front porch with two Mason jars of iced tea or lemonade, waiting for him.

  This was unexpected. They’d had plans. Just yesterday, he’d asked if she would be willing to spend an hour with him. She’d smiled and nodded.

  But Amelia was nowhere in sight. Instead, the front door was open. Only their ratty-looking screen door was preventing Oscar from getting out. The dog was staring at him in a pitiful way. He whined and pawed at the screen.

  “Hey, boy,” Simon murmured. “What’s going on here?”

  Oscar gazed up at him with sad eyes and whined some more.

  Simon was growing more concerned by the minute.

  “Amelia?” he called out.

  She didn’t answer.

  Opening the screen door, he let Oscar waddle through, then followed him back down the steps. Immediately, Oscar did his business. Then, with a little grunt, he trotted toward the barn as quickly as his stocky legs could take him.

  His heart in his throat, Simon followed on his heels.

  “Amelia?” he called out again.

  At last he heard a gasp, followed by a small cry.

  He picked up his pace,
dust flying up around his thick work boots. “Amelia, where are ya?”

  “I’m . . . I’m in the barn.”

  Her voice didn’t sound right. Running now, he followed the pup inside, then froze at the sight before him.

  Amelia was sitting on the dirt floor of the barn crying. Her light pink dress was wrinkled and dusty. Her usually carefully pressed white kapp was smudged with dirt. Even in the dim light he could see that her cheeks were deathly pale, her nose and eyes were red from crying, and she was holding one hand awkwardly in the other.

  He knelt by her side. “Amelia, what happened?” He didn’t even bother with asking if she was all right. She so obviously wasn’t.

  She hiccupped. “There was a snake in Princess’s stall.” She waved her hand. “It—it bit my hand.”

  Simon was barely able to push aside his panic as he reached for her hand. Only the experiences of his past allowed him to control himself. “Are you sure? Was it a rattler? How long ago did this happen?”

  “An hour ago. Maybe a little longer? And I’m not sure what kind it was,” she said. Gazing at her hand that was now firmly held in his own, she visibly gathered herself. “It was a rat snake, I think. Nothing poisonous. At least, I’m fairly sure about that. But, Simon, it still hurts terribly.”

  Feeling marginally better, Simon forced his body to relax. If a copperhead or rattler had bit her, she would’ve likely been feeling much worse. She might have even passed out. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel for her. Snake bites, venomous or not, were scary experiences.

  “I reckon it does.” Turning her hand, he searched for the puncture wounds. They were located at the bottom of her palm, less than an inch from her wrist. The affected area was slightly swollen and red. Most of the skin around it looked angry. Even if the snake hadn’t been poisonous, Simon knew the bite should probably be checked out.

  “Let’s get you on the porch. Once you get settled, I’ll hitch up Stormy to the buggy. We’ll run over to the emergency clinic in Berlin.”

  When she looked up at him with a fierce expression, he braced himself for an argument. Amy was proud, and she hated being coddled. Furthermore, she seemed to be under the misconception that her needs weren’t all that important.