Plain and Simple Miracles 4-in-1 , livre ebook

HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
Plain and Simple Miracles 4-in-1
ISBN 978-0-7369-8590-1 (eBook)
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97408
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other-without the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author s and publisher s rights is strictly prohibited.
Contents
Brian s Choice
Copyright 2015 by Vannetta Chapman
ISBN 978-0-7369-6627-6 (eBook)
Anna s Healing
Copyright 2015 by Vannetta Chapman
ISBN 978-0-7369-5603-1 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-5604-8 (eBook)
Joshua s Mission
Copyright 2016 by Vannetta Chapman
ISBN 978-0-7369-5605-5 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-5606-2 (eBook)
Sarah s Orphans
Copyright 2016 by Vannetta Chapman
ISBN 978-0-7369-5607-9 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-5608-6 (eBook)
About the Author
Fall in Love with the Amish of Pebble Creek!
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About the Publisher
HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
Scripture verses are taken from
The Holy Bible, New International Version , NIV . Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide
The New American Standard Bible , 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. ( www.Lockman.org )
Cover by Koechel Peterson Associates, Inc., Minneapolis, Minnesota
Cover photos chaoss / Shutterstock; S.Borisov / Shutterstock; iStockphoto / jonathansloane
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BRIAN S CHOICE
Copyright 2015 by Vannetta Chapman
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
ISBN 978-0-7369-6627-6 (eBook)
All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other-without the prior written permission of publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author s and publisher s rights is strictly prohibited.
Dedication
For my friends in Chouteau, Oklahoma
CONTENTS
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Author s Note
Acknowledgments
This book is dedicated to the kind people-both Amish and Englisch -I met while researching in Chouteau, Oklahoma. They were welcoming and showed graciousness to me.
I would also like to thank my pre-readers: Dorsey, Donna, and Kristy. Their input, as usual, was valuable to me and to my writing process.
Many thanks to the fine folks at Harvest House Publishers for allowing me to set an entire series in this little community-and also for giving me leeway to explore some important issues we share across our faith.
The communities in Oklahoma are not large, but they offer a unique insight into the struggles and joys of farming and also of living the Plain life. If you find yourself near Tulsa, drive east on US-412 for forty minutes. You ll be blessed by your journey.
And finally always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ (Ephesians 5:20).
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength Love your neighbor as yourself.
M ARK 12:30-31

I want you to be concerned about your next door neighbor. Do you know your next door neighbor?
M OTHER T ERESA
PROLOGUE
Big Sur, California
June
Brian Walker kept one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift. The Jaguar F-TYPE convertible purred like a lion, all energy and muscle and streamlined strength.
Gun it. Bridgette lowered her sunglasses to stare at him. You know you can pass him.
Highway 101 stretched in front of him, a dark line separating the forest and rock on his left from the Pacific Ocean on his right. He d driven this section of road before many times, though never in a Jag that went from zero to sixty in four seconds. Top speed? One hundred eighty-six mph. Yes, he could pass the Suburban in front of him.
His parents had given him the sleek black Jag. At twenty-nine, he was a bit old for presents from Mom and Dad, but who in their right mind would turn down an eighty-thousand-dollar gift? Besides, he d earned it. He was the first professor at Soluna University to achieve tenure before thirty. So far he d put less than a hundred miles on the car. It was about time he broke it open.
And Bridgette? Well, she was one of several girls he spent time with-tanned, blond, and dangerous.
Gun it, Brian. Show me what you ve got.
He wasn t usually one to act on a dare, but the setting sun twinkling off the water combined with the breeze through his hair, her look, and the engine purring beneath his hand. Suddenly it wasn t about Bridgette-whom he d known for all of three weeks. It was all about him. The desire to use and control the power at his fingertips was simply too strong.
The Bixby Creek Bridge rolled out before him in the distance, beckoning. The oncoming lane was clear.
So he gunned it.
Ninety miles an hour.
One hundred.
One hundred ten.
They were flying, and the ride was smoother than a sailboat on a calm sea.
They passed the Suburban as if it were standing still.
He glanced over at Bridgette. She d tossed her head back, exposing her neck, and even over the roar of the engine he could hear her laugh. Brian realized in that moment what a beautiful girl-what a striking woman-she was.
He took his eye off the road for two, maybe three seconds.
When he glanced back, sunlight was bouncing off a semi coming toward them.
The speedometer read one hundred twelve miles an hour.
Brian didn t dare tap the brakes. Instead, he accelerated, bulleting past the delivery truck in front of the suburban. Not a problem for the Jag.
His mistake was in pulling over too soon. By that time, he was able to see the expression of the old-timer driving the big rig. The man was hollering, blaring his horn with one hand and clutching the wheel with the other. That struck him as almost funny-as if holding more tightly to a circular device could in some way affect its handling. Poor reasoning, but an understandable reaction.
The thought flitted through his mind in less than a second, as he was moving over, as the semi blew past. He safely maneuvered past the suburban and the delivery truck, but there was no chance he was going to avoid colliding with the Volkswagen bus.
Slamming on his brakes would be useless. He careened back over into the now empty opposite lane, and he nearly made it. But the rear fender of his Jag fishtailed, clipping the back of the Volkswagen. It was blue with a white top. Brian s brain processed all of the details even as he realized the deadly dilemma they were in, he had put them in, all because of two words- gun it.
If he d been driving the speed limit, the result would have been minimal. But he hadn t been-he d accelerated in order to avoid a collision. Metal screeched against metal. In his peripheral vision he saw the bus careen into the bridge railing. Almost immediately the delivery truck slammed into the Volkswagen, and then the suburban rammed the truck.
He didn t have time to focus on them. He was tapping the brakes, turning the wheel, watching the bridge spin round and round until finally the Jag flipped. The car spun on its hood, collided into the bridge railing, and then ricocheted back to the other side. He heard Bridgette scream. The sound of glass shattering and airbags exploding filled his ears. He found himself staring through a shattered windshield up at an impossibly blue sky.
And then there was only darkness.
ONE
Cody s Creek, Oklahoma
Three years later
Brian had a strong desire to give his 1982 Ford tractor a swift kick. Instead, he reached his hand farther down into the engine in the hope of finding what was wrong. Possibly mice had taken to eating the wires again, or perhaps they had decided to build a nest deep in his engine this time.
He d closed his eyes and was completely focused on the components of the old tractor s engine when he heard the clip-clop of a horse and buggy.
More than one horse and buggy.
He pulled out his hand, grabbed a rag he kept in his toolbox, and swiped at the sweat running down his face. Sweating always caused the scar along his hairline to itch, a small penance to pay the rest of his life. The tractor, though-having to deal with the tractor felt like sweet justice, cosmic revenge, God s sense of humor. Maybe it was all three.
Looking up, he saw three buggies coming down his lane.
Bishop Levi Troyer led the pack. Any other time, Brian would hav