Bridge to Haven

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Bridge to Haven

Copyright © 2014 by Francine Rivers. All rights reserved.

Cover photograph of woman and car taken by Stephen Vosloo. Copyright © by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.

Cover photograph of trees copyright © by franckreporter/iStockphoto. All rights reserved.

Cover photograph of bridge copyright © by Steve Knox. Used by permission.

Designed by Jennifer Ghionzoli

Edited by Kathryn S. Olson

Published in association with the literary agency of Browne & Miller Literary Associates, LLC, 410 Michigan Avenue, Suite 460, Chicago, IL 60605.

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the
Holy Bible
, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007, 2013 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations in chapters 3, 5, 11, and 16 are taken from the
Holy Bible
, King James Version.

Bridge to Haven
is a work of fiction. Where real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements of the novel are drawn from the author’s imagination.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Rivers, Francine, date.

  Bridge to haven / Francine Rivers.

    pages cm.

  ISBN 978-1-4143-6818-4 (hc)

1. Abandoned children—Fiction. 2. Actresses—Fiction. 3. Alienation (Philosophy)—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3568.I83165B75 2014

  813'.54—dc23 2013040115

ISBN 978-1-4143-9139-7 (International Trade Paper Edition)

ISBN 978-1-4143-9082-6 (ePub); ISBN 978-1-4143-8425-2 (Kindle); ISBN 978-1-4143-9083-3 (Apple)

Build: 2014-03-07 14:21:51

TO MY SONS & GRANDSONS

Trevor, Travis, Rich, Brendan, William & Logan

CONTENTS

1. Acknowledgments
   
2. Chapter 1
   
3. Chapter 2
   
4. Chapter 3
   
5. Chapter 4
   
6. Chapter 5
   
7. Chapter 6
   
8. Chapter 7
   
9. Chapter 8
   
10. Chapter 9
    
11. Chapter 10
    
12. Chapter 11
    
13. Chapter 12
    
14. Chapter 13
    
15. Chapter 14
    
16. Chapter 15
    
17. Chapter 16
    
18. Chapter 17
    
19. Chapter 18
    
20. Chapter 19
    
21. Chapter 20
    
22. A Note from the Author
    
23. Discussion Guide
    
24. About the Author
    

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

O
VER
THE
YEARS
,
many people have supported and influenced my writing. My husband, Rick, has always been at the top of the list. He encouraged me to start writing in the first place and then insisted I take that manuscript off the closet shelf and submit it. He urged me to quit working, be a stay-at-home mom, and pursue a writing career. Our children, all now adults with children of their own, also encourage me. Our daughter, Shannon, posts my blogs, sends me reminders on what’s needed, and keeps an eye on the website mail.

My agent, Danielle Egan-Miller, and her associate, Joanna MacKenzie, take care of the business side of my career, freeing me to concentrate on whatever project I’ve started. I trust them implicitly and am thankful for the time they spend pursuing new arenas of publication: foreign, domestic, cyberspace. Whatever success I have is largely due to their hard work.

I have been blessed to work with the same publisher, Tyndale House, for over twenty years. Getting a book out has always been a team effort from executives to editors, cover designers to marketing experts and Facebook maven, and all the warehousemen. I am thankful to each who takes part in moving my book from flash drive (or e-mail files) to the printed page and out to stores in our hometowns
or online. I want to especially thank Mark Taylor and Ron Beers, who have been strong supporters and good friends from the beginning of my launch into the world of Christian publishing. They’ve been there from the get-go, cheering me on. Another special friend is Karen Watson, who has always asked the right questions to get me thinking deeper and sometimes send me in a new direction. My editor, Kathy Olson, is a blessing. She knows what to cut and when to add. She sees the big picture as well as the small details. I always look forward to working with her. Thanks also to Stephanie Broene for her input, particularly on the discussion questions, and to Erin Smith for checking my historical facts and helping me with my Facebook author page.

Numerous friends have come alongside me and prayed me through the writing process, especially during dark times when I wonder why I ever thought I could write anything that would make sense to anyone. Colleen Phillips is my kindred spirit in Chile. Our Tuesday evening Bible study family members are mighty prayer warriors. When I need help, I put out the call to my brilliant Coeur d’Alene brainstorming buddies, who love the Lord wholeheartedly, sing like angels, write like prophets, and crack jokes like class-act comediennes. I can’t wait for our pray, plot, and play retreat each year.

Those I’ve named here and so many more unmentioned have all enriched my life beyond measure. May the Lord continue to pour blessings upon each and every one.

CHAPTER 1

Yes, you have been with me from birth;

from my mother’s womb you have cared for me.

PSALM 71:6

1936

Filling his lungs with cool October air, Pastor Ezekiel Freeman started his morning vigil. He had laid out the route on a map when he first came to town. Each building brought people to mind, and he upheld them before the Lord, giving thanks for trials they had come through, praying over trials they now faced, and asking God what part he might play in helping them.

He headed for Thomas Jefferson High School. He passed by Eddie’s Diner, the students’ favorite hangout place. The lights were on inside. Eddie came to the front door. “Mornin’, Zeke. How about a cup of coffee?”

Zeke sat at the counter while Eddie made stacks of hamburger patties. They talked high school football, and who might win a scholarship. Zeke thanked Eddie for the coffee and conversation and headed out into the dark again.

He crossed Main Street and walked down to the railroad tracks toward Hobo Junction. He could see a campfire and approached the men sitting around it, asking if they minded if he joined them. Several had been around town long enough to have met Zeke before. Others were strangers, men who looked tired and worn from crisscrossing the country, picking up odd jobs along the way, living hand to mouth. One young man said he liked the feel of the town and hoped to stay. Zeke told him the lumberyard north of town was looking for a loader. He gave the young man a card with his name and the church’s address and phone number. “Stop by anytime. I’d like to hear how you’re doing.”

The crickets in the tall grass and the hoot owl in a towering pine fell silent as a car pulled into Riverfront Park, stopping near the restrooms. A young woman got out of the driver’s seat. The full moon gave her enough light to see where she was going.

Groaning in pain, she bent and put her hand over her swollen belly. The contractions were coming swiftly now, not even a minute between. She needed shelter, some hidden place to give birth. She stumbled through the darkness to the ladies’ room, but the door wouldn’t budge. Uttering a strangled sob, she turned away, searching.

Why had she driven so far? Why hadn’t she checked into a motel? Now it was too late.