Holly’s Heart: Collection One
Copyright © 1993, 1994, 2001, 2002, 2008
Beverly M. Lewis
Revised and updated for 2008 edition.
Previously published in five separate volumes:
Best Friend, Worst Enemy © 1993, 2001, 2008 Beverly Lewis
Previously published as Holly’s First Love
Secret Summer Dreams © 1993, 2001, 2008 Beverly Lewis
Sealed With a Kiss © 1993, 2002, 2008 Beverly Lewis
The Trouble With Weddings © 1993, 2002, 2008 Beverly Lewis
California Crazy © 1994, 2002, 2008 Beverly Lewis
Previously published as California Christmas
Photographer: 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 978-1-58558-666-0
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
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 blockbuster 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
Table of Contents
Best Friend Wrost Enemy
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
Secret Summer Dreams
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
Sealed with a kiss
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
The Trouble with Weddings
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
California Crazy
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
Acknowledgments
From Bev…to You
To Dave,
my heart-mate, best friend,
and very cool husband.
BEST FRIEND, WORST ENEMY
Chapter 1
“Is it hot in here?” I whispered to the boy sharing my music folder.
Tom Sly’s eyes bulged. “Holly Meredith, you’re turning green!”
That’s when it happened. Halfway through our seventh-grade musical, on the second riser, in front of half the population of Dressel Hills, Colorado, I felt dizzy. Faces in the audience began to blur. Heat rushed to my throbbing head. With a mouth drier than Arizona, I gasped for breath. Then my knees buckled and…I blacked out!
My best friend, Andrea Martinez—better known as Andie—witnessed this embarrassing scene and filled me in on the details later. She jumped off the risers and hightailed it over to help me. Tom Sly dragged me behind the risers and across the newly waxed gym floor to the janitor’s room. Jared Wilkins followed.
When I came to, I was lying on the floor in the musty janitor’s room. The first thing I saw was the adorable face of Jared Wilkins, the new boy. He smiled down at me, fanning me back to life with his music folder. In my half-dazed state, his blue eyes seemed to dance dreamily. Maybe this fainting stuff isn’t so bad after all, I thought, squinting through the haze.
“Holly,” Jared said. “Can you hear me?”
“Uh-huh,” I whispered.
“Hang in there. Andrea went to get your mom.” He glanced at Tom Sly, who leaned against the doorway, fidgeting.
Jared helped me sit up next to some mops and a bucket. I still felt a little out of it, but not so bad that I couldn’t enjoy being the focus of his attention.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.
“I think so,” I said weakly.
“That’s good. You j
ust take it easy till your mom gets here, all right?” Smiling, he sat beside me, leaning against the wall. “What a cool way to get out of a boring musical!”
“Speak for yourself,” I said, feeling a bit stronger. “You didn’t just faint in front of the whole school.”
“But it’s very romantic, being rescued by two men, don’t you think?”
I was about to tell him that two seventh-grade boys didn’t exactly qualify as men when Mom and my little sister, Carrie, burst into the room, followed by Andie.
“Holly, honey, are you all right?” Mom leaned down to touch my forehead while Carrie frowned.
“I think she’s going to be okay,” Jared said, smiling at me again. “It just got a little too hot up on stage.”
“Well, let’s get you out of this musty mess and into some fresh air,” Mom said. “Thank you for your help, boys.”
“No problem,” Jared said.
Tom gave me a weird grin.
Mom led me down the hallway and settled me into a chair in an empty classroom. Then she and Carrie went to search for a glass of water. As soon as they were out of earshot, Andie sat next to me. She twisted one of her dark curls around her finger. When she does that, I know something’s up!
“Holly,” she whispered, “you’ll never guess what happened when you were out cold.”
“What’re you talking about?” I asked, still feeling a bit woozy.
“One of the boys tried to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”
“What?” Suddenly wide-awake, I grabbed Andie’s arm. “Who did?”
She shook her head and looked away. “I, uh, shouldn’t tell you.”
“What do you mean shouldn’t?”
“Oh, Holly,” she whined. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I grabbed her other arm. “This is embarrassing. I have to know!”
She pulled away from me. “Don’t do this, Holly.”
“Do what? We’re best friends, remember?”
She folded her arms. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?” I was desperate. “Did his lips actually touch mine?”
Andie nodded solemnly. “Your first…uh, kiss—well, not really—but, you know. And you weren’t even awake for it,” she said.
“Andie!” I howled. “Don’t you dare joke about this. Who was it?” I was dying to know, but just then Andie’s parents poked their heads in the door.
“Ready to go?” Mrs. Martinez asked. “We told the baby-sitter we’d be back by nine.”
“Okay, Mom,” Andie said. Then she whispered to me, “Call me the second you get home.”
“Don’t worry,” I replied.
Mom returned with a glass of water and made me drink it. Then she held my arm while we walked to the car. Carrie opened the door for me. During the drive home, Mom kept pampering me.
“Are you feeling better, Holly-Heart?” she asked. Flicking on the inside light, she stroked the top of my head. “The color’s returned to your cheeks. That’s good.”
Carrie giggled from the backseat. “You looked like a ghost up there.”
“Did I? Did everybody see me faint?” I was mortified. Not only had I been semiresuscitated by a boy while unconscious, but a whole auditorium full of parents and kids had watched me keel over!
“Now, Holly, things like this can happen to anyone,” Mom said. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“But, Mom, that’s not all that happened.” Then I told her about the unneeded attempt at resuscitation.
“I think someone was trying to help you, Holly. That’s all.”
“But don’t you see, Andie won’t tell me who! I guess I wouldn’t mind it if it was Jared, but Tom Sly, well…” I felt queasy at the thought.
Mom asked, smiling, “Does Jared happen to be the cute new boy you’ve been talking about? The one who spoke to me tonight?”
I nodded, and Carrie caught on and began to chant, “Holly and Jared, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G—”
“Mom!” I protested. I didn’t need trouble from my eight-year-old sister, too.
“Carrie, please,” Mom said. “Don’t tease your sister.”
I could hear Carrie snickering softly, but I let it go. It was enough for Mom to glare at her in the rearview mirror.
We pulled into the garage, and I could hear the phone ringing as we got out of the car.
“It’s Andie!” I guessed, getting out of the car. I made a mad dash for the house and the phone. “Hello?”
It was Andie. “What took you so long?”
“Nothing,” I said. “We came straight home.” Quickly, I retreated to my favorite telephone stall—the downstairs bathroom. No one could hear me there. I lowered the toilet lid and settled down. “Okay, I’m ready for the whole story,” I said.
She began to reveal what happened when I blacked out. Everything except the thing I was most eager to know. Then she said, “What do you remember about tonight?”
I was cautious, keeping the most private moments with Jared to myself.
“So…that’s it?” she asked. “Nothing else?”
“Nope!” I said impatiently. “Now, when are you going to tell me who brought me back to life?”
She sighed. “Like I said, I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?” I demanded.
“Honestly,” she said, “I wouldn’t keep my best friend in the dark unless—”
“Unless what?”
“Unless it’s for your own good.”
“Don’t make me crazy, Andie. What good is not knowing?”
“My lips are sealed. True friends must shield one another sometimes.”
“C’mon, don’t get weird on me. Tell me!”
“I can’t, I really can’t.”
“Okay, I’ll just ask Jared. He’ll tell me the truth.”
“That’s not a good idea,” she said.
“Why not? He was there. He should know.”
“You’re getting too hyper, Holly.”
“No kidding!” I was ready to pull my hair out. “Look, Andie, I refuse to talk to you until you tell me everything you know.”
“But, Holly, I—”
“Good-bye, Andie.” And with that, I hung up.
What a nightmare this was turning out to be. The most mysterious thing that had ever happened to me, and my own best friend wouldn’t even talk about it!
BEST FRIEND, WORST ENEMY
Chapter 2
Fortunately, I had two whole days to get over my fainting episode. I would have died of embarrassment if I had to go to school the very next day!
I spent Saturday morning writing in my diary. Ever since third grade, I’d kept a journal. My secret wish is to be a writer when I grew up. That is, if I survive seventh grade.
My hand shook as I wrote the date: Saturday, January 16. Then I described the whole humiliating evening. Right down to Andie’s awful secret. What had happened while I lay there, dead to the world? I imagined several scenarios and wrote them down. In one scene, Tom tried to get near me and Jared bravely pushed him away, protecting my innocent lips.
Carrie called up the stairs, interrupting my thoughts. “Holly! Andie’s on the phone for you.”
“Tell her I’m busy,” I yelled back.
“She won’t believe me!” she said.
I went to the head of the stairs. “Tell her I’m out.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Okay!” I said, exasperated. “This is the truth: Tell her I refuse to talk to her until she tells me in person what happened last night.”
“Have it your way,” Carrie snipped.
Tiptoeing downstairs, I observed my sister telling Andie what I’d just said. When Carrie hung up I asked, “What’d Andie say?”
“She said, ‘Over my dead body,’ ” Carrie repeated, snickering.
I tromped back to my room. Enough of Andie’s nonsense. “This means war,” I muttered.
At church the next day, I made a point of snubbing Andi
e. Sure, my conscience hurt when the minister talked about forgiveness, but I tried very hard to push the sermon out of my mind. I was still too upset to deal with it.
On Monday at school, I arrived early to Miss Wannamaker’s gloomy English classroom, hoping to have the chance to talk to Jared or Tom. The walls in the classroom were a sick gray, a sorry color for a room where some of my best creative writing happened—assigned by one of my favorite teachers. Miss W was one of the largest women I’d ever seen, but she had the face of an angel and the heart of a saint.
The classroom slowly filled up, but before I could catch either Jared or Tom, Miss W herself arrived. “Dear class,” she began, like a letter. That was her way every day. “Turn to page 249 in your literature books.” She faced the chalkboard and wrote a “pithy” quotation, as she called it. The flap of skin under her arm jiggled as she wrote.
“Hey, Jared. How much to call Miss W the B word?” Tom Sly whispered behind me.
I glanced at Jared, who sat across the aisle.
“Do you mean…blob?” Jared blurted out.
Miss W whirled around. “Jared. Tom.” They looked up from their desks, shocked. “You will both see me after class.”
Her tone meant trouble—big trouble. I didn’t feel sorry for Tom. His show-off routine had finally caught up with him.
But Jared? That was another story….
Two months ago, right before Thanksgiving, Jared Wilkins had moved to Dressel Hills, our ski village nestled in the Colorado Rockies. I often caught him watching me when I peeked at him. I secretly hoped he was the one who had come to my rescue, like some fairy-tale prince.
“Dear class,” Miss W began again, “I’m returning the quizzes from last week.”
The papers came around. I got a ninety percent—not bad for last-minute cramming.
“Now for Thursday’s assignment,” she said. We all groaned, but she ignored us. “I want each of you to write a short story—two pages typewritten, minimum.” More groans. “The main character must have something in common with you—your personality, hobby, or a special interest. Otherwise, the sky’s the limit.”
Holly's Heart Collection One Page 1