Holly's Heart Collection Two
Page 1
Holly’s Heart: Collection Two
Copyright © 1994, 1995, 2002, 2003, 2008
Beverly M. Lewis
Revised and updated for 2008 edition.
Previously published in five separate volumes:
Second-Best Friend © 1994, 2002, 2008 Beverly Lewis
Good-Bye Dressel Hills © 1994, 2002, 2008 Beverly Lewis
Straight-A Teacher © 1994, 2002, 2008 Beverly Lewis
No Guys Pact © 1995, 2003, 2008 Beverly Lewis
Little White Lies © 1995, 2003, 2008 Beverly Lewis
Cover photograph by Mike Habermann Photography, Inc.
Cover design by Eric Walljasper.
Unless otherwise identified, Scripture quotations are from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION.® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved. The “NIV” and “New International Version” trademarks are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by International Bible Society. Use of either trademark requires the permission of International Bible Society. www.zondervan.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
E-book edition created 2011
ISBN 978-1-58558-667-7
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Contents
About the Author
Second-Best Friend
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
Good-Bye, Dressel Hills
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
Straight-A Teacher
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
No Guys Pact
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
Little White Lies
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
Little White Lies The Absolute Truth: How Honest Are You? A Quiz
Acknowledgments
From Bev…to You
Only Girls Allowed: More Fun Reads From Beverly Lewis
About the Author
BEVERLY LEWIS, born in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, fondly recalls her growing-up years. A keen interest in her mother’s Plain family heritage has inspired Beverly to set many of her popular stories in Amish country, beginning with her inaugural novel, The Shunning.
A former schoolteacher and accomplished pianist, Beverly has written over eighty books for adults and children. Five of her block-buster novels have received the Gold Book Award for sales over 500,000 copies, and The Brethren won a 2007 Christy Award.
Beverly and her husband, David, make their home in Colorado, where they enjoy hiking, biking, reading, writing, making music, and spending time with their three grandchildren.
Books by Beverly Lewis
GIRLS ONLY (GO!)*
Youth Fiction
Girls Only! Volume One
Girls Only! Volume Two
SUMMERHILL SECRETS†
Youth Fiction
SummerHill Secrets Volume One
SummerHill Secrets Volume Two
HOLLY’S HEART
Youth Fiction
Holly’s Heart Collection One†
Holly’s Heart Collection Two†
Holly’s Heart Collection Three*
www.BeverlyLewis.com
* 4 books in each volume † 5 books in each volume
To
Kirsten Brown,
who loves cats so much
she wanted to take Melissa-Kitty
home from Swiggum’s farm.
And…
to the memory of Kitty Tom,
a cool Kansas cat who lived
his life spoiled rotten.
SECOND-BEST FRIEND
Chapter 1
“I’m sorry, Goofey, but you have to stay in my room tonight,” I said, bending down to stroke my cat’s motley fur. “Our stepdad’s off his allergy pills for the weekend.”
Goofey looked up at me. A brown patch of fur colored the gray around one eye. “Me-e-o-ow.” It was as if he were apologizing for making my stepdad so miserable.
“It’ll be okay, baby,” I whispered. Not having the heart to tell him Mom’s plan, I softly closed the door. Spending the entire weekend—every weekend—from now till who knows when locked away in a room was not something you discuss with your beloved thirteen-year-old tabby. But it was Mom’s only solution to Uncle Jack’s reaction to his allergy pills. For now.
Hurrying downstairs, I thought about Uncle Jack—no blood relation—who was once married to my dad’s sister, now in heaven. The only allergy medicine that worked for him was making him drowsy. And for an upbeat, fun-loving guy, that was bad news. Tonight, though, things would be back to normal.
“Party time!” Uncle Jack called, tossing a round pillow at me as I entered the downstairs family room.
“Hooray!” cheered eight-year-old Stephie.
“Let’s watch a Meredith home video,” Carrie, my nine-year-old sister, suggested, pulling out one of our family before Daddy divorced Mom.
“
Forget that,” I said, playfully tugging it away from her.
“Let’s rent Deep Space Invasion,” suggested Mark, my nine-year-old cousin-turned-stepbrother.
Phil, ten, tossed a baseball cap into the air. “Cool! Let’s gross everyone out.”
“Yeah, and when we get scared, we’ll crawl into bed with Mommy and Uncle Jack,” Carrie said. She scooted across the floor on her stomach, making room for me in front of the TV.
“Think again,” fifteen-year-old Stan said, sprawling on the floor next to me. It was still weird having four cousins turn into three stepbrothers and one stepsister overnight. “How ’bout a John Wayne movie?” Stan suggested.
“Not tonight, pilgrims,” Mom said, snuggling up to Uncle Jack. I sneaked a glance at them as they kissed. Still enjoying the honeymoon stage, no doubt.
“So…what are we watching?” I asked.
A comical grin sparked mischief in Uncle Jack’s eyes. “You’ll love this one,” he said, popping a DVD into the player.
Everyone cheered when the title came on the screen. But 102 Dalmatians wasn’t exactly the kind of movie I was hoping for. Especially with Goofey stuck upstairs in my room instead of here purring next to me.
Halfway through the movie we had intermission. Carrie and Stephie raced upstairs to their bedroom while Mom and Stan went to the kitchen to make ice-cream floats.
Thanks to the movie, I missed Goofey more than ever. I trudged upstairs to my room. When I got there, the door was open!
I scurried around my room, searching the closet and under my four-poster bed. “Here, kitty, kitty,” I called frantically. Man, would I be in big trouble if Mom found out Goofey was on the loose in the house.
And poor Uncle Jack! He’d been off his medicine since this morning, hoping for a stupor-free weekend.
Dashing downstairs, I looked everywhere. The living room, under the dining room table, in the kitchen. Worried, I ran to the lower level. That’s when I saw disaster waiting to happen.
Loaded down with a tray of root beer floats, Mom couldn’t see that Goofey was right on her heels! As she made her turn to the round coffee table, my cat leaped onto the sectional.
I crouched behind the sofa as Mom placed the tray of sodas on the wood surface. Quickly, I tried to grab Goofey before Mom or Uncle Jack noticed him. But he leaped away, out of my grasp.
Oblivious to Goofey, Uncle Jack munched on popcorn. Then, reaching for an icy glass of root beer, he took his first drink. Meanwhile, Goofey—whose slightly torn ear flopped, reminiscent of his tomcat fight days—padded straight across the top of the sectional.
Then it happened! Goofey did the unthinkable. He curled him-self around Uncle Jack’s neck.
My stepdad jumped up. “What on—ah-ah-aw-choo!” He sneezed once, then twice, then three times! Before I could grab Goofey, he leaped from Uncle Jack’s shoulders and darted out of the family room and through the furnace room door.
Mom spun around. “Goofey!” she yelled, casting accusing eyes at me. “Where is he, Holly?”
“Honest, Mom, I didn’t let him out,” I said.
I fled to the furnace room to look for Goofey. There I found him crouched on top of a heat duct.
“Please, Goofey,” I pleaded, “come down here. You’ve caused enough trouble already.”
He refused to budge. His whiskers twitched as if to say, “I’m not bothering anyone up here, am I?”
Stan came in just then and saw my predicament. “Here, I’ll get him for you.” He pulled out a stepladder and climbed up, but when he reached for Goofey, the cat slithered away. “Your cat’s wreaking havoc with our family night, little sister,” he said—John Wayne style, of course.
“You can say that again,” Mom said, peering through the door-way with Carrie at her side.
“Your cat’s wreaking havoc with—” Stan began again, but stopped when Mom looked at him cross-eyed.
“Carrie,” I said. “Bring Goofey’s dish down here with some of his favorite food in it.”
“Okay!” She bounded away, giggling.
Mom sent me a stern look, then left to see how Uncle Jack was doing. Meanwhile, Stephie, followed by Mark and Phil, squeezed into the furnace room to watch the excitement.
“I know what’ll get him to come down,” Phil said. He rolled his eyes and howled like a hound dog. “Ah-whooo! Rowf! Rowf! Rowf!”
“Oh, that’s really gonna help,” Carrie said as she brought in a dish of tuna-flavored cat food.
Stan took the dish from Carrie and held it up. Sniffing his favorite meal, Goofey inched out, away from the wall, step by kitty step. Slowly, Stan slid the dish down the heat duct as I steadied the ladder.
Stan grunted as he leaned forward. Mark made alien faces, Phil whined softly like a puppy, and Stephie made weird kissy sounds with her lips.
Closer…closer…Goofey crept toward the dish.
In a flash, Stan grabbed my cat with his free hand. Frightened, Goofey spit and hissed. I snatched up the cat dish just as Stan lost his balance, toppling into a pile of laundry.
And Goofey? He ran for his life!
I chased him upstairs and into my room. And Mom was close behind. She closed the bedroom door firmly behind her.
I was expecting a full-blown lecture, and she didn’t disappoint me. “Holly-Heart,” she started in, “this is serious business.” She stood across the room as I sat huddled with Goofey on my window seat. Her soft blue eyes squinted slightly. “I think it’s time you found another home for your cat.”
I looked up at her, shocked. “But he’s part of our family!”
Mom wasn’t listening. “The pills make Jack listless. He’s not himself, and I’m really tired of it.”
I took a deep breath, thinking of Goofey. And of myself. The purring on my legs rose to a gentle rumble as he relaxed into my lap. I kissed the top of his head.
Mom sat opposite me on the window seat. “Listen, honey, I don’t want to make things difficult,” she said. “I know how much this cat means to you.”
This cat? What a way to refer to the precious bundle of fur who’d seen me through Daddy’s leaving and the divorce. Who’d been with me ever since I’d learned to walk…and so much more.
“I’m sorry, Holly-Heart.” She touched his drowsy head. “My decision has nothing to do with how I feel about Goofey.”
“Please, Mom!” I begged. “I’ll do anything to keep him here. I’ll even make a place in my closet for him when I’m at school. He could eat and drink and sleep in my room, even on weekdays. I promise he’ll never go out unless I carry him.”
Mom made a sad little sighing sound. My speech had tugged on her heart strings. Perfect!
She stood up to leave. But I could see by her face that I had lost the argument. “Please don’t do this, Holly,” she said. “I think it’s best that Goofey leave. I’m sure you can find a home for him by the end of the weekend.”
“But, Mom—”
“I’m sorry,” she said and headed down the stairs.
I held my beloved cat close. “It’s obvious no one loves you the way I do,” I whispered in his tattered ear. “We have to find you a home. One where we can still spend lots of time together.”
Pushing my shoe rack aside in my closet, I arranged a soft bed of blankets. “You’ll be safe and warm here,” I told him.
“Show time,” Stan called to me from downstairs.
“Coming,” I answered. I didn’t feel like watching a silly DVD about pets. But I clumped down the steps anyway, thinking only of Goofey’s future.
SECOND-BEST FRIEND
Chapter 2
Saturday morning after breakfast, I pulled on my ski jacket, mittens, and scarf.
“Where are you going?” Mom called to me from the kitchen.
“To find a home for an outcast,” I announced, running upstairs to get Goofey. I wrapped him in an afghan, and as we came down the steps, I held him up, giving him one last look at his home. “Say bye-bye to the lamp. Remember, you knocked it over the
first Christmas you lived here?”
I glanced toward the kitchen. Could Mom hear my going-away speech?
Going-away parties, after all, were never much fun. Especially if the person…er, pet was a close friend like Goofey. He’d shared my window seat, curling up next to me as I wrote in my journal each day. He’d been my companion all through the crazy days of grade school. Not to mention the trials of last year—seventh grade. And Goofey had snuggled near me through every prayer I’d ever prayed, except for the ones prayed in California, where Daddy and his new wife lived.
Staring down at his furry face, I whispered, “How can I say good-bye to you?” A lump sprang up in my throat as I lowered my face to cuddle him.
Just then the front door swung wide. Stephie, Mark, and Phil burst in, followed by Uncle Jack. “It’s gonna be a big one,” said Uncle Jack, grabbing my shoulders and guiding me to the living room window, Goofey and all. “Look up there. Storm clouds are dying to dump.” He pointed to the snow clouds hanging over the mountains. Uncle Jack looked down at the bundle in my arms. “Whatcha got in there?”
Faster than lightning, Goofey hissed and swatted his paw at Uncle Jack’s nose. I pulled the cat away.
“Sorry,” I said, amazed at the sudden increase in Goofey’s intellect. My cat had recognized his own mortal enemy! Not bad for a lazy feline.
Uncle Jack sneezed three times, which brought Mom running. “Holly!” she said as she came into the living room. “I thought you’d already left.”
“I’m leaving now.” I spun out the front door.
A quick jog down the street brought me to the city bus stop. In a ski village like Dressel Hills, the transportation system was free. Hop on, hop off, anytime—day or night. I pushed my fat friend into the afghan, hiding him. It would be easy to conceal him. Old and pampered, Goofey had slept through longer things than bus rides to my best friend’s house.
Soon we were on Andie’s street. I pulled the cord and waited for the bus to come to a complete stop before standing up.
Outside, I hurried to the Martinez residence. The wind was picking up, and I kept Goofey covered. “You remember Andie Martinez, don’t you, little guy?” I said to the puff of gray nestled in my arms. “She’s my best friend ever. If everything goes as planned, she’ll be taking very good care of you from now on.” I pushed the doorbell with the thumb of my mitten.