Simple Choices

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

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

About the Author

For this last visit to Harmony, I want to thank the people who made this journey so special.

As always, to Judith Unruh, Alexanderwohl Church Historian in Goessel, Kansas: You kept me on track throughout the series. I can’t thank you enough.

To Sarah Beck, owner of Beck’s Farm in Wichita: Thanks for all your help. The Harmony Series was made better because of you.

To Deputy Sheriff Pat Taylor—the real one: Thank you for always being available to help me with research, and thank you for allowing me to use your name. I hope I didn’t besmirch it too much. LOL!

My thanks to Doctor Andy (Andrea McCarty) for being the world’s best doctor and for helping me with all my medical questions! You’re the greatest!

Thank you to Marjorie Vawter, my wonderful editor. Your hard work is always appreciated.

Thank you to Alene Ward, owner of
DesignsbyAlene.com
, who is one of those “divine connections” God puts in our lives. Thank you for creating “Sweetie’s Christmas Quilt.” One for our contest and another one for me! I will treasure it for the rest of my life. I look forward to the future and more adventures together!

To Penny and Gus Dorado: Thank you for always being ready to help in any way you could. You’re both very precious to me.

To my agent, Janet Benrey: Thanks for your help along the way. You will always have a special place in my heart.

As always, my thanks to the folks at Barbour: Becky, Mary, Shalyn, Ashley, and Laura. You gave me a chance, and I will always appreciate that.

To the Mennonite people and their rich heritage: I hope you feel I’ve represented you well.

Special thanks to my wonderful husband, Norman. I’m so thrilled that we’re working together now. There’s no one else I’d rather share my journey with. I love you.

To my son, Danny, who has always encouraged me: I am still amazed that God has allowed me to be your mother. You are one of the most incredible people I’ve ever known. I’m so blessed.

And finally, to the One who has set my feet in a broad place: Without You, I have nothing. With You, I have everything. Without You, I am nothing. With You, I can soar like an eagle, move mountains, and become more than I ever dreamed I could be. I love You so much. My most fervent prayer is that when people read my books, they will see You.

To Fred Mehl, my wonderful father-in-law, who battled the great darkness that is Alzheimer’s. You were never diminished in the eyes of those who loved you. We always saw the real man you were—a man of strength, love, character, and incredible creativity. I’ve tried to represent your struggle through the character of Papa Joe. I pray I’ve succeeded. We all still miss you.

Y
ou will get packed right now because … because … I said so!” Yikes! I almost turned my head to see if my mother had crept up behind me.
Because I said so?
Isn’t that what parents say when they can’t think of anything else?

“You are
not
my mother, you know,” Hannah said defiantly.

Like I wasn’t very well aware of that
. I shook my head, trying to come up with something that sounded wise. I could use some of Sweetie’s good old homespun smarts right now. She’d know what to do. Several of her past pearls of wisdom flitted through my head, but none of them seemed to fit this situation. There was something about pigs flying, but that didn’t seem appropriate either. Feeling defeated, I slumped down into a nearby chair. “Listen Hannah, you know how hard it was to talk your parents into letting you come to Wichita for six weeks and take art classes. I fought for you. I promised to take care of you and not let you get into trouble. But … but just look at you!”

The beautiful young woman who stood in front of me certainly didn’t resemble the chaste, quiet Mennonite teenager I’d brought to Wichita six weeks earlier. Her simple clothing had been replaced with jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt that stated T
ODAY
W
ILL
B
E THE
B
EST
D
AY
E
VER!
I had the distinct feeling this would not prove true.

“Robin gave me these clothes so I wouldn’t feel like such a freak, and I like them,” she responded. Her bottom lip stuck out in a definite pout.

A twinkle of silver caught my eye. “She gave you that bracelet, too?”

Hannah raised her wrist. “It’s a friendship bracelet.”

The bracelet was made with silver and colored beads, and a silver heart dangled from it.

“It says ‘Love, Friend, and Forever.’” She pointed to engraved inserts evenly spaced between the beads. “It means Robin and I are forever friends. But you want to send me back to Harmony where I don’t have any real friends at all!”

I sighed so forcefully, it was a wonder the girl stayed on her feet. “That’s ridiculous. You have all kinds of friends in Harmony. I actually thought I was one of them.”

No response. Just more pouting.

“Listen,” I said forcefully, “I want you to put on the clothes your parents sent with you. I’m responsible to them, and I can’t take you back to Harmony looking like this.” I stared closely at her. “Is—is that mascara? And are you wearing lipstick?”

“Everyone wears it.” Her bottom lip stayed in the pout position.

I pulled myself up from my chair, fighting the urge to say
If everyone jumped off a cliff, would you jump off, too?
Boy, I really
was
turning into my mother. “We’re leaving this afternoon, and that’s all there is to it. Allison is returning from her vacation in the morning, and she wants her apartment back. We are going home to Harmony!” The note of hysteria in my voice seemed to startle Hannah, and she took a step back. Had I scored a point? Maybe becoming slightly unhinged would get the results I so desperately needed. I was trying to come up with something really over the edge when Hannah’s bottom lip began to quiver and tears filled her eyes.

“I—I love it here,” she said, her voice breaking. “And Mr. Monahan said I could live with him and his family and attend a high school that has special art classes. He practically guaranteed me an art scholarship to college.”

My anger began to melt. Hannah wasn’t really fighting against me—she was fighting for her dream. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help her. “Look, Hannah, I understand. I really do. But this is not the way to go about it. We need to go home and talk to your parents. I’ll explain the opportunity Jim’s offered you. If it’s meant to be, then it will happen.” I frowned as my eyes traveled up and down her body. “But you need to get rid of those clothes and clean off your face. If you go back looking like that, they’ll never agree to let you leave Harmony. Or even your room for that matter.”

She stared down at her sandals. “They won’t let me live here,” she said, her voice so soft I could barely hear her. “We both know that.”

I didn’t respond, but I was fairly certain she was right. However, sharing that thought at this moment might trigger another bout of resistance that I didn’t have time to deal with. “Your parents love your paintings,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “They know you have real talent. You can’t be completely sure they’ll say no. But even if they do, you’re only a year away from graduating and turning eighteen. Remember that Jim said if you couldn’t go to high school here, he’d still try to get you into a good art school or college. Your grades are excellent, and you have a good shot at being accepted.” I walked over and put my hands on her shoulders. “Hannah, you have to go home. Your parents love you, and you love them. You can’t stay here without their permission. If you put up a fight now, you’ll lose Jim’s support as well as mine—and you’ll hurt your mother and father. I know you don’t really want to do that.” I put my hand under the teenager’s chin and pulled her face up so she had to look at me. “You know I’m right.”

Tears spilled from her china-blue eyes. “I—I know. It’s just …”