Read A Place Called Home Online
Authors: Lori Wick
A Place Called Home
LORI WICK
P
LACE
CALLED
H
OME
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HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
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All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Except for certain well-established place names, all names of persons and places mentioned in this novel are fictional.
Cover by Terry Dugan Design, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Cover images © Brad Mitchell/Alamy Images; photolibrary/PictureQuest
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About the Author
L
ORI
W
ICK
is one of the most versatile Christian fiction writers in the market today. Her works include pioneer fiction, a series set in Victorian England, and contemporary novels. Lori's books (more than 4 million copies in print) continue to delight readers and top the Christian bestselling fiction list. Lori and her husband, Bob, live in Wisconsin with “the three coolest kids in the world.”
A PLACE CALLED HOME
Copyright © 1990 by Harvest House Publishers
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wick, Lori.
    A place called home / Lori Wick.
    ISBN 0-7369-1533-8
    I. Title.
PS3573.I237P57Â Â Â Â Â 1990
813'.54âdc20 | 89-24445 |
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any otherâexcept for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America
05Â Â 06Â Â 07Â Â 08Â Â 09Â Â 10Â Â 11 / BC-MS / 10Â Â 9Â Â 8Â Â 7Â Â 6Â Â 5Â Â 4Â Â 3Â Â 2Â Â 1
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To Bob,
my husband and best friend
who never stopped believing
I could do this.
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CAMERON FAMILY TREE
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Prologue
“â¦and to my coachman, Dobbins, I leave 300 dollars, the roan mare from the stables, and my black riding crop⦔
The words became distant and far away to the black-garbed young woman, who sat as though she were made of stone. She sat in the large study that had been her grandfather's. This room had been his haven. It had been in this very room, on her grandfather's lap, that he had told her her parents were dead. They had drowned in a boating accident when she was six years old.
She used to love visiting her grandfather in this room. It was big and masculine, as he had been. Of course everything about Joshua Bennett had been bigâhis laughter, his temper, his love for life. She let her eyes wander around the room, whose walls were lined with books. She had learned to read and write in this room. Large, comfortable chairs were scattered about, and in the middle of it all was her grandfather's massive desk. The desk, the bookshelves,
everything
was walnut. The dark wood would have made it gloomy but for the two huge windows that sat behind the desk and overlooked the street. Her eyes went to the windows. It had begun to rain.
It was fitting that it should rain on the day of her grandfather's funeral and will-reading, since he never liked the rain. But her thoughts were brought abruptly back to the present at the mention of her name.
“â¦she will receive the house and stables along with the rest of my holdings. In the event of her death, the inheritance will go to my partner, Vince Jeffers.”
Again the words of the lawyer faded from her ears. “In the event of her death everything will go to Vince Jeffers.” Something is terribly wrong! Grandpa would never have done this! She tried to slow her racing thoughts as she brought her eyes to the man sitting not ten feet from her. Vince was watching her with a look that made her stomach turn. His too-thin face held a self-satisfied smile, making his long nose and dark eyes appear evil. It came to her at that moment that this man might in fact want every dime of her grandfather's money.
She rose and went to her room on legs barely able to support her. Once in her room, she sank into a chair and sat looking out at the pouring rain. Again the lawyer's words returned to her: “In the event of her death.” My
death?
Grandpa would never write such a thing, since he was hardly leaving a fortune.
Her mind went back to her grandfather's study and the man who smiled so cynically at her. Fear welled up within her as she thought of her own death. With her grandfather gone, who would care? She didn't care about the money; all she wanted was her grandfather back. The tears she had held in until now streamed unchecked down her face. She had never felt so alone.
Mark Cameron paced the spacious entryway of his large, two-story house and looked at his watch for the fifth time. He walked to the foot of the stairs and called up, “Sue, are you almost ready? We're going to be late.”
“I'll be right down,” came the soft reply.
Mark resumed his pacing until the soft rustle of skirts sounded on the stairs. He turned just as his wife, Susanne, reached the bottom. His eyes lit with appreciation and he moved to take her hands in his. “Is Emily all settled in for the night?”
She answered as he helped her into her sweater, “She's cuddled into Maggie's lap with her favorite book and a blanket.”
“And how is this little one down here?” Mark's hand moved down to rest tenderly on his wife's swollen abdomen.
Susanne laughed softly and covered her husband's hand with her own. “If he continues to move like he did today, he's going to make the next two months feel like a year.”
Mark's thoughts went back nearly three years in time to the night Susanne had Emily. Mark was 25 and Susanne 23. He was a doctor and she a nurse, and both were experienced and confident. But their medical knowledge was little help that night with Susanne's long and hard labor. After Emily was born Susanne assured Mark it had been worth it all, and, looking
at his beautiful baby daughter, he had to agree. Nevertheless, tonight his doubts began to surface and the concern he felt was evident in his voice. “Sue, are you sure you're up to this? If you're too tired, Mac and Julia will understand.”
Susanne opened her mouth to reply, but someone pounding on the door stopped the words in her throat. Mark swung the door open quickly to reveal one of the boys from town trying desperately to catch his breath. Mark listened patiently as the boy spoke. Each word came out with a gasp. “Doc Cameronâ¦a boyâ¦in the alleyâ¦by the liveryâ¦stabbed⦠please hurry.”
Mark turned to grab the black medical bag that was always kept in the entryway. He bent to give Susanne a quick kiss before moving out the door to follow the already-running boy. He heard his wife call “I'll pray!” as he broke into a run, hoping to cover the two blocks before it was too late.
Susanne closed the door and leaned against it. She took a moment to pray for Mark, the boy, and God's guidance this night. Removing her sweater, she walked up the stairs to tell Maggie the change in plans. Emily was nearly asleep. Once back in the entryway, she walked through a door that sat off to the right. Lighting lamps along her way, she entered her husband's office. She had no guarantee he would be bringing a patient tonight, but either way he would see the welcoming lights. She made sure the office door leading to the street was unlocked. Settling down to wait, she realized she must send word to Julia about supper.