by Nancy Mehl
I wiped away a tear of happiness that slid down my face. “Boy, when He answers prayers, He does a good job. You will always be my prince, you know.”
“You’re not going to sing the song from that video you and Charity made me watch, are you?”
“I love that song. ‘I know you,’” I sang softly. “‘I walked with you once upon a dream.’” I smiled. “I did walk with you once upon a dream, you know. I was in a boat, lost in a storm. A man came to rescue me. Told me that if I’d come to him, he’d save me.” I put my hand on Noah’s cheek. “That man was you.”
He reached over and took my other hand in his. “You go right ahead and sing that song as much as you want. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, you can sing it every day for the rest of our lives.”
“The rest of our lives. What beautiful words.”
“Yes, they are.”
And with a sweet, tender kiss from a very handsome Mennonite prince with emerald-green eyes, our very own fairy tale began.
Discussion Questions
1. Why did Lizzie run away from Kingdom? Should she have stayed, or did she do the right thing? Can you think of a time when you ran away from something rather than facing it?
2. When she had to deal with pressure in Kansas City, she fled to Kingdom. Was she just running away again, or was there a difference this time?
3. Even though Lizzie believed she was going back to Kingdom to protect Charity, she also felt drawn to return. Was she hearing from God?
4. Some people believe that if we aren’t perfect, God won’t talk to us. Is that true? Lizzie made the decision to turn her back on God. Did He reject her too? Do you ever feel cut off from God because you have sinned?
5. Matthew Engel, Lizzie’s father, seems to be a very hard, unforgiving man. Why is he this way?
6. Unhappy past events shaped Lizzie and her father in very negative ways. As Christians, should we allow the past to affect us? What’s the best way to keep past hurts from influencing our future?
7. Cora Menlo is a strong character who refused to allow others to dictate her life. Do you identify more with Cora, Lizzie, or Lizzie’s father?
8. Was Anna, Lizzie’s mother, an abused woman? Although she said Matthew never hit her, what about some of his other actions? Were they abusive? Did Anna do the right thing when she told Matthew to leave?
9. Were Lizzie’s motives right when she decided to marry Clay and move away from Kingdom even though she had deep feelings for Noah? What would you have done?
10. How do you feel about Kingdom? Do you understand the desire for a place of safety where families can live away from the evil in the world? Is that really possible? Is it right? If given the chance, would you like to live in a town like Kingdom? Why?
Acknowledgments
My undying thanks to Judy Unruh, Alexanderwohl Church Historian in Goessel, Kansas. You’ve held my hand throughout this Mennonite journey, letting me know when I have it right and when I have it wrong. Your wisdom and direction show up in every book I write. You’re my Mennonite guardian angel! God bless you, Judy!
Thank you to Raela Schoenherr, who brought me into the wonderful Bethany House family. You probably had second thoughts the first time we met. Thanks for turning your car around to prove to this weeping author that the Canada geese crossing the road had safely made it to the other side! LOL! I love working with you, Raela, and hope to live up to your high expectations. I’ll always try my best.
To Sharon Asmus, editor extraordinaire: Thank you for all your hard work. I couldn’t ask for a better editor. I am so blessed to work with you. You make me better than I really am.
To Bethany House Publishers: Thanks for taking a chance on me. I’ll do my best to make you glad you did.
Most of all, thanks to the One who decided to make me a writer. I’m not sure why you did it, but I’m so grateful. I love you, Father. It’s all for you.
Turn the page for a sneak peek
at Nancy Mehl’s next book!
Unbreakable
Road to Kingdom #2
Available Spring 2013
CHAPTER / 1
“All I know is that you folks in Kingdom need to be careful.” Flo neatly folded the piece of fabric I’d just purchased, running her thin fingers along the edge to create a sharp crease. “Two nights ago a church near Haddam burned to the ground. Someone is targeting houses of worship in this part of Kansas, and they don’t care about the denomination. They just hate Christians.”
She put my purchases into bags and handed them to me. “Please, even if you think I’m being paranoid, speak to your church leaders. Urge them to take precautions.” Flo, usually a rather dour person, gave me a rare smile. “You’re very special to me, Hope. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
I smiled back, rattled by her words of caution, yet appreciative of her concern. Flo and I were as different as night and day, yet over the years we’d developed a deep friendship.
I patted her hand. “All right, Flo. I’ll talk to one of our elders when I return.”
As she came around the side of the counter, I put my packages down and gave her a hug. “You are such a blessing to me. Thank you for caring so much.”
Most people would probably think we looked odd. An older woman with bright red hair and overdone makeup hugging a plain Mennonite girl wearing a long dress with a white apron and a white prayer covering on her head. But Flo and I had moved beyond seeing our differences.
She let me go and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You take care of yourself, and I’ll see you next month.”
I said my own good-bye and went outside, where Daisy, my horse, waited patiently, tied to a post near the door. I put my sacks in the storage box under the seat in the buggy, and then I unhitched her. “You are such a good girl,” I said, rubbing her velvety muzzle with my hand. She whinnied softly, and I climbed up into the carriage seat. “It’s time to go home, Daisy.” Lightly flicking the reins, I guided Daisy toward the street.
I loosened my hold on the reins and relaxed back into the seat. I could nod off to sleep and Daisy would still be able to deliver us safely home without any direction from me. We’d been making this monthly trip for a long time, and I was confident she knew the way as well as I did.
I took a deep breath, filling myself with the sweetness of spring air and deep, rich earth. The wheat in the field was tall enough to wave in the gentle wind, and I was struck once again by the beauty of Kansas. Usually, my ride to and back from Washington was a peaceful time when I could be alone with my thoughts, but my concern over Flo’s warning left me feeling troubled inside.
From the other direction, I saw a buggy coming my way. As it approached, I recognized John Lapp, one of the elders who’d left the church in protest. I nodded at him as he drove past, and he returned my gesture with a barely discernible tip of his head. John’s wife, Frances, had been ill for quite some time. I’d heard whispers that her illness was caused more by her laziness than by any actual physical disability, but I tried to ignore those rumors. It was a little difficult in Frances’s case, though. Poor John was constantly driving to Washington for medicines and supplies his wife insisted she needed.
As Daisy’s hooves clip-clopped down the dirt road that led home, the buggy swaying gently in time with her gait, my mind went back to my conversation with Flo. Who could be behind these vicious attacks? Most people in the towns surrounding Kingdom treated us with kindness, care, and respect. I wanted to take Flo’s warning seriously, but this kind of hate was beyond my experience. Kingdom was so secluded, so remote, that the idea anyone could even find us, let alone try to harm us, seemed extremely unlikely. However, since I’d told Flo I’d say something to our leaders about the situation, I began to rehearse exactly what I would say.
Suddenly, the roar of an engine shook me from my contemplation. I automatically pulled Daisy as far to the side of the road as I could. Glancing in my side mirror, I saw a bright red truck barreling down the dirt
road, a wave of dust behind it. Only seconds before it reached us, I realized with horror that it was aimed straight for the back of my buggy.
Not knowing what else to do, I pulled tightly on the reins, guiding Daisy into the ditch. The truck roared past us, spraying us with gravel. The buggy teetered for a moment and then began to tip over on its side. Before it fell, I was able to jump out into the ditch, landing hard on my hands and knees. Daisy staggered under the weight of the stricken buggy.
I forced myself to my feet even though my right arm hurt and my knee burned where it had been badly scraped. I stumbled over as quickly as I could to unhook her from her harness, pushing against the weight of the buggy so she wouldn’t topple. Breaking her leg could put her life in jeopardy, and I had no intention of losing her. I cried out as I struggled to release her from her restraints, holding tightly on to her reins. Fear caused her to fight me. She whinnied and tried to rear up, and I held on for dear life while trying to calm her.
Once I finally got the harness off and she was freed from the buggy, she began to quiet down. I took her reins and started to lead her back up to the road. Over her soft, frightened nickering I heard the sound of an idling engine. Surely the driver of the pickup was coming back to help me, regretting his carelessness. Thankfully, his momentary lack of judgment hadn’t cost us more than a damaged buggy, a nervous horse, and a few cuts and scrapes. I hoped he was aware that the situation could have been much worse and that he would be more careful when approaching any other buggies he might encounter on this road.
Although it was still difficult to see through all the dust, I peered through the haze and discovered that the red truck was parked about fifty yards down the road with its motor racing. As Daisy and I strained to make it up the incline, I waved at him. Maybe he would at least help me get my buggy out of the ditch and back to Kingdom. One wheel had come completely off and the axle was bent. There was no way I could drive it home.
It wasn’t until he put his vehicle into gear again and stepped on the accelerator that I became aware he wasn’t concerned about my condition. This man had another intent entirely. A scream ripped through me as I realized there was nowhere to go. No way out. Whoever was driving that truck was trying to kill me!
NANCY MEHL is the author of twelve books and received the ACFW Mystery Book of the Year Award in 2009. She writes from her home in Wichita, Kansas, where she lives with her husband, Norman, and their puggle, Watson.
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