Huckleberry Summer (Huckleberry Hill)

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  HUCKLEBERRY SUMMER

  “Erla’s not afraid of the water,” Aden said. “She’s been a big help already this morning.”

  A big help. Ha! Lily had overheard Erla at the gathering talking to some of the other girls about “handsome Aden Helmuth.” Jah, Lily just bet Erla was a big help.

  “I will be fine,” Lily said.

  “You don’t want to drown,” Aden said, flashing her a playful smile.

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” Lily said. “It’s too bad you’re not as cautious as I am. Then I wouldn’t have to constantly scold you.”

  “I like it when you scold me.”

  “You do not.”

  “Jah, I do.”

  She glanced at Erla Glick one more time. “Will you fetch me if I fall in?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Well, I’m not going to fall in, so don’t get your hopes up.”

  Aden laughed. “Thanks for coming today.”

  Books by Jennifer Beckstrand

  HUCKLEBERRY HILL

  HUCKLEBERRY SUMMER

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  Huckleberry Summer

  JENNIFER BECKSTRAND

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  HUCKLEBERRY SUMMER

  Books by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Title Page

  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

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  HUCKLEBERRY CHRISTMAS,

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Felty Helmuth took a hearty bite of the mushy concoction in his bowl. “Why, Annie Banannie. This soup is fit for a king. Is this another recipe from that new book of yours?”

  Anna smiled and pushed her thick, round glasses over the bridge of her nose. “How kind of you to notice, dear. It’s called Indonesian beef stew.”

  “It’s so tender, I can’t tell the beef from the potatoes.”

  “There is no beef. It’s a vegetarian dish.”

  Felty winked at his wife of sixty-two years. “The name ain’t quite right, don’t you think?”

  “Well, the recipe calls for beef, but I didn’t add any beef, and I don’t think it’s my place to change the name of the recipe.”

  “Right you are, Annie. Was they out of roast at the market yesterday?”

  “No, I am learning to cook vegetarian. Aden is a vegetarian, and I don’t want him to starve.”

  “Aden our grandson?”

  Anna nodded and looked at Felty as if he were finally in on the secret.

  “Banannie, Aden lives in Ohio. He don’t eat your cooking more than once a year or so, but I’m sure he’d be pleased to know you are thinking of him.”

  “Now, Felty,” Anna said. “I want Aden to come and live with us, and he’s got to eat.”

  “Us? Why would Aden want to live with us?”

  “He’s going through a rough patch.”

  Felty reached over and patted Anna’s wrinkled hand. “Don’t worry yourself. All boys his age go through a rough patch.”

  “Jah, but most boys don’t get arrested three times.”

  “He can get arrested just as easy in Wisconsin as Ohio.”

  Anna pursed her lips and scolded Felty with her eyes. “Boys like Aden need a wife to settle them down. A girl like little Lily Eicher.”

  Felty sputtered and coughed, and Anna stood up and thumped him on the back until he motioned for her to stop. “Not another one of your matchmaking schemes, Annie. I don’t think my weak heart can stand it.”

  “Felty, your heart is fit as a fiddle. Your knees will give out long before your heart ever does.”

  “Not these knees. They’re titanium alloy. The doctor said so.” Felty stood and waltzed around the table to prove his point.

  “Now, Felty. Sit and finish your supper.” Anna served him another heaping helping of Indonesian beef stew, vegetarian style. “I was right about Moses and Lia, wasn’t I? Moses is so happy, he’s like to float off the ground. That does your heart good, doesn’t it?”

  “I suppose so, but what it took to get him and Lia together almost gave me an ulcer.”

  “Our grandchildren deserve our very best efforts. How will they ever find suitable mates if we don’t help them?”

  Felty plopped into his chair and kissed his wife on the cheek. “Our grandchildren will get along fine without any help from us.”

  “Of course they won’t. Look at Moses. If we hadn’t introduced him to Lia, he would still be pining over that Gingerich girl. And Aden can’t seem to stay out of jail long enough to court anyone. He needs to meet Lily.” Anna stuck a pat of butter on the top of a cornbread muffin and placed it on Felty’s plate. “He’s got to come to Huckleberry Hill, Felty.”

  Felty propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. “Little Lily Eicher probably doesn’t know how to cook vegetarian.”

  “I can teach her.”

  He sighed. “No doubt about that, Banannie. You are the best cook in Bonduel, Wisconsin.”

  Chapter Two

  Aden clutched the seat belt strapped across his chest and tried to breathe normally. If there was one thing that made him edgy, it was going anywhere in a car with Jamal. Well, not edgy exactly—more like terrified out of his wits. The feel of the wind whipping through his hair and the sight of telephone poles whizzing past was only fun when you didn’t think you were going to die.

  The whole breathing thing wasn’t working. Why couldn’t he maintain his calm in Jamal’s car? He was Aden Helmuth, after all—the Amish guy who had no fear of chaining himself to a tree or staging a sit-in outside the mayor’s office. Aden was the person brave enough for anything.

  Well, almost anything. Racing down the road with Jamal, hell-bent for destruction, seemed more like foolishness than courage.

  Aden didn’t take his eyes from the road, just in case his steady gaze would keep the car from crashing. “Jamal, slow down.”

  Jamal liked to look people in the eye when he talked to them, which was a bad thing when he drove. “Chill, man. I’ve driven this road hundreds of times. If we get there in time, we might get some pictures of them dumping stuff into the lake.”

  Aden felt his stomach lurch as Jamal took a curve about a hundred miles an hour too fast. “I’d like to get there alive.”

  Jamal smiled and again took his eyes off the road to look at Aden—a movement that set Aden’s heart racing. “You’re such a baby.”

  “Go ahead,” Aden said, gripping the door handle until he couldn’t feel his fingers, “pretend I’m the one with the problem here.”

  “Pilot likes the way I drive.”

  Aden glance
d into the backseat where Pilot, his golden doodle, was thoroughly enjoying the terrifying ordeal. He poked his head out the window so far that it seemed like he’d taken half his body with him. His ears flapped in the wind and his tongue hung out of his mouth as if he were trying to catch passing insects. Pilot didn’t seem to care in the least that his master would have to pry himself off the seat when they got to the lake.

  Traitor.

  Aden should have known better than to go anywhere with Jamal. Most of the time Jamal didn’t even use his hands to drive. He liked to steer with his knee. At this point, Aden didn’t care if they were on the verge of catching the idiots who’d been dumping chemicals into the lake. He’d rather be home mucking out the barn than in this car, taking his life into his own hands, or rather, putting his life in Jamal’s hands.

  Big mistake.

  The rain announced itself like a dump truck dropping a load of gravel on top of the car. Water pelted the windshield, and Jamal flipped on the wipers to their fastest speed. It didn’t matter. Neither of them could see a thing out of the windshield in the muted light of late afternoon. Even Jamal wouldn’t drive blind. He slowed down and placed both hands on the steering wheel.

  Aden said a prayer of thanks for rain.

  Pilot pulled his head inside the car, and with what Aden could swear was a grin, shook himself hard, catapulting water droplets in every direction.

  With a groan, Jamal wiped the back of his neck. “I just treated these leather seats, you stupid dog.”

  “At least he doesn’t complain about your driving.”

  Jamal pushed the button and rolled up Pilot’s window. Pilot responded by balancing on the edge of the backseat and sticking his head between Jamal and Aden.

  Jamal grimaced. “Ya gotta love the smell of wet dog.”

  “Jamal, they’re not going to be up there when it’s pouring like this. Let’s turn around.”

  “They probably think this is the best time to dump stuff in the lake. No one up there to catch them.”

  Aden tried one more time, even though he knew it was beating a dead horse. “The roads are bad.”

  “Pilot’s not complaining.”

  Aden closed his mouth and held on to the door handle. Better shut up and not divert Jamal’s attention. The guy needed to concentrate on driving.

  He negotiated a sharp curve, and they both gasped as an elk with an enormous rack of antlers appeared in the middle of the road. He stood as if he were carved from stone and certainly wasn’t going to be the one to move.

  Jamal swerved hard to the right. The car lost traction on the wet road and slid out of control. Aden felt as if he were living the next few seconds in slow motion. His insides lurched as the car careened down a shallow embankment and splashed into the lake.

  Aden’s seat belt snapped tight, and it felt like someone had smacked him in the chest with a two-by-four. “Pilot!” he yelled.

  In the immediate calm after the crash, Aden took a labored breath and turned to find his dog. Pilot lay on the floor in the back and lifted his head as if Aden had awakened him from a long nap. Aden reached over with a trembling hand and patted Pilot’s head. “You okay, buddy?”

  To Aden’s horror, the car made a sickening creak, tilted forward, and began to sink.

  Jamal looked even more dazed than Aden felt. His hands still gripped the steering wheel as his eyes grew wide with every movement of the car. “We’re sinking.”

  The lake in late April was icy cold. Aden felt the water seep into his boots. Biting pain crawled up his legs. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Jamal jiggled the latch of his seat belt. “It’s stuck.” He panted and groaned and strained at the latch. Aden, always calm in an emergency, quickly released both of their latches as the water rose to the level of his seat.

  “Come on, buddy.” Aden got a firm hold of the collar around Pilot’s neck while lifting the door handle and pushing hard with his elbow. When the door wouldn’t budge, he put his whole back into it. He couldn’t open it. The frigid water bubbling at his waist matched the raw terror crawling up his spine. They would be underwater in a matter of seconds.

  Jamal pounded on his door and screamed in panic. “It won’t open.”

  “The water is pushing against it,” Aden yelled over the deafening roar of rushing water and shrinking air.

  Jamal shoved his fists against the windshield. “We’re going to die, Aden. We’re going to die!”

  Pilot struggled onto the backseat, keeping his head above the rising water, and barked as if that would keep the lake at bay.

  As the water poured in, Aden propped his feet on the seat and crouched with his head against the ceiling. Jamal did the same. “Help us, Lord,” Aden cried. He took in great gulps of air with each breath in case they would be his last. His heart hammered against his chest as he repeated his desperate prayer over and over in his mind.

  Aden, thou art careful and troubled about many things, but one thing is needful.

  He was surely dying. Random scripture didn’t usually leap to his mind.

  Probably a foot of air remained in the car.

  Jamal became incoherent with fear. “We’re going to die. We’re going to die.”

  Pilot whined and bumped his nose against the ceiling. Aden’s heart nearly broke. Pilot was an innocent victim of Jamal’s recklessness. “Please, Lord, could you save my dog?”

  Open the door.

  Open the door? It wouldn’t budge.

  Lean not to thine own understanding. Open the door.

  Even with his mind racing in terror, Aden was smart enough to recognize the source of that inaudible voice.

  “Jamal, don’t let go,” he said. He grabbed Jamal’s hand, took a deep breath, and plunged beneath the water. Jamal struggled briefly as he probably wondered why Aden was pulling him to his death. Then his grip tightened, and he let Aden pull him down.

  It was almost too dark to see, but Aden felt his way to the latch. He pulled it up while pushing on the door with both his feet. The door swung open so easily that he barely had to exert effort at all.

  Using the open door as leverage, he pulled himself out of the car with his free hand and tugged Jamal out with him. His lungs burned with the need for air, but how far under the water were they?

  Reaching his hand to the sky, he cried out silently for God.

  But it was too much. He felt completely spent. He hadn’t the strength to get them to the surface, no matter how close it might be.

  Just as Aden thought his lungs might explode, someone from above grabbed his hand and forcefully pulled him upward. He and Jamal were on the surface in a matter of seconds. He let go of Jamal’s hand so they could both tread water. The air tasted better than anything Aden had ever experienced. He filled his lungs with the sweet flavor and thought he would never want for another thing in his whole life.

  Aden whipped his head around and looked for his rescuer. Not a soul to be seen either in the water or on the shore. They were alone. The rain beat a lonely cadence against the surface of the lake.

  Someone had pulled them up. Aden had felt the touch of a warm hand as plainly as he had felt Jamal’s fingers in his grasp. He gasped for breath as pure astonishment overtook him. Who had saved him, and why was he worth such a miracle?

  Jamal flailed about until Aden pulled Jamal’s arm around his neck and paddled to shore. Jamal, panting with exhaustion, crawled out of the water and lay down on the jagged rocks. Anything was more comfortable than a watery grave.

  Aden turned and swam away from shore.

  “Where are you going?” Jamal called.

  “I’ve gotta get my dog.”

  Jamal sat up and pointed a shaky finger. “Look.”

  Pilot’s nose bobbed to the surface, and Aden watched in relief as his dog paddled to shore with those giant paws of his. Aden followed him out of the water and threw his arms around his best friend. Warm tears coursed down his icy cheeks as he buried his face in Pilot’s waterlogged fur.
“Good boy, smart boy. Good, good boy.” A sob tore from his lips. “Thank you, Lord.”

  Pilot wagged his tail, but otherwise stood at attention while Aden blubbered out his feelings.

  It was still rainy and cold, but the temperature did nothing to calm Aden’s racing heart. It might as well have been a hundred degrees outside.

  He brushed his hand along Pilot’s fur as he willed his breathing to slow down. What had just happened? He’d heard a voice. There was no doubt in his mind where that voice came from. The question now was, what was he going to do about the message he’d received?

  Bowing his head, Aden breathed out a silent prayer of immense gratitude and longing. His life had been on one path, and he sensed God trying to make some adjustments. The accident was his wake-up call. But what did the Lord want him to awaken to?

  One thing is needful. Open the door.

  He released Pilot, and the dog immediately began running up and down the shoreline exploring interesting smells as if nothing traumatic had happened.

  Aden looked at Jamal, who sat on a boulder with his arms wrapped around his knees.

  “You okay?” Aden asked.

  Jamal stared at the spot underneath the surface where his car was buried. “I’m sure glad I spent three hours oiling the leather seats.”

  “They’re vinyl.”

  “I know, but still, it was nice vinyl.”

  After their terrible ordeal, the relief was palpable, almost euphoric. They burst into laughter.

  “At least you didn’t hit the elk. You never would have forgiven yourself,” Aden said.

  “But technically, I have polluted the lake.”

  Aden chuckled. “On the bright side, you don’t have a car anymore, so I never have to ride with you again. Walking is a much safer form of transportation.”

  “Cars are plenty safe.”

  “Said the guy who almost killed me.”

  Jamal grinned and nudged Aden with his elbow. “You’re such a baby.”

  “Said the guy who almost killed me.”

  “Said the guy who saved my life.”

  Aden shrugged off the mention of it. He knew who really saved Jamal’s life today, and it wasn’t Aden Helmuth. “I’m never riding in a car again.”