Authors: Vannetta Chapman
T
HE
P
EBBLE
C
REEK
A
MISH
Book 1â
A Promise for Miriam
Book 2â
A Home for Lydia
Book 3â
A Wedding for Julia
“Home to Pebble Creek” (free short story e-romance)
“Christmas at Pebble Creek” (free short story e-romance)
P
LAIN AND
S
IMPLE
M
IRACLES
Anna's Healing
HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
Scripture verses are taken from
The Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide
The New American Standard Bible®, © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. (
www.Lockman.org
)
Cover by Koechel Peterson & Associates, Inc., Minneapolis, Minnesota
Cover photos © chaoss / Shutterstock; S.Borisov / Shutterstock; iStockphoto / jonathansloane
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BRIAN'S CHOICE
Copyright © 2015 by Vannetta Chapman
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
ISBN 978-0-7369-6627-6 (eBook)
All rights reserved.
No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any otherâwithout the prior written permission of publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author's and publisher's rights is strictly prohibited.
For my friends in Chouteau, Oklahoma
CONTENTS
Read More from Vannetta Chapman
This book is dedicated to the kind peopleâboth Amish and
Englisch
âI met while researching in Chouteau, Oklahoma. They were welcoming and showed graciousness to me.
I would also like to thank my pre-readers: Dorsey, Donna, and Kristy. Their input, as usual, was valuable to me and to my writing process.
Many thanks to the fine folks at Harvest House Publishers for allowing me to set an entire series in this little communityâand also for giving me leeway to explore some important issues we share across our faith.
The communities in Oklahoma are not large, but they offer a unique insight into the struggles and joys of farming and also of living the Plain life. If you find yourself near Tulsa, drive east on US-412 for forty minutes. You'll be blessed by your journey.
And finally⦓always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 5:20).
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strengthâ¦Love your neighbor as yourself.”
M
ARK
12:30-31
“I want you to be concerned about your next door neighbor. Do you know your next door neighbor?”
M
OTHER
T
ERESA
Big Sur, California
June
Brian Walker kept one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift. The Jaguar F-TYPE convertible purred like a lion, all energy and muscle and streamlined strength.
“Gun it.” Bridgette lowered her sunglasses to stare at him. “You know you can pass him.”
Highway 101 stretched in front of him, a dark line separating the forest and rock on his left from the Pacific Ocean on his right. He'd driven this section of road before many times, though never in a Jag that went from zero to sixty in four seconds. Top speed? One hundred eighty-six mph. Yes, he could pass the Suburban in front of him.
His parents had given him the sleek black Jag. At twenty-nine, he was a bit old for presents from Mom and Dad, but who in their right mind would turn down an eighty-thousand-dollar gift? Besides, he'd earned it. He was the first professor at Soluna University to achieve tenure before thirty. So far he'd put less than a hundred miles on the car. It was about time he broke it open.
And Bridgette? Well, she was one of several girls he spent time withâtanned, blond, and dangerous.
“Gun it, Brian. Show me what you've got.”
He wasn't usually one to act on a dare, but the setting sun twinkling off the water combined with the breeze through his hair, her look, and the engine purring beneath his hand. Suddenly it wasn't about Bridgetteâwhom he'd known for all of three weeks. It was all about him. The desire to use and control the power at his fingertips was simply too strong.
The Bixby Creek Bridge rolled out before him in the distance, beckoning. The oncoming lane was clear.
So he gunned it.
Ninety miles an hour.
One hundred.
One hundred ten.
They were flying, and the ride was smoother than a sailboat on a calm sea.
They passed the Suburban as if it were standing still.
He glanced over at Bridgette. She'd tossed her head back, exposing her neck, and even over the roar of the engine he could hear her laugh. Brian realized in that moment what a beautiful girlâwhat a striking womanâshe was.
He took his eye off the road for two, maybe three seconds.
When he glanced back, sunlight was bouncing off a semi coming toward them.
The speedometer read one hundred twelve miles an hour.
Brian didn't dare tap the brakes. Instead, he accelerated, bulleting past the delivery truck in front of the suburban. Not a problem for the Jag.