SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1
SummerHill Secrets: Volume 1
Copyright © 1995, 1996, 2007
Beverly Lewis
Cover design by Eric Walljasper
Cover landscape photography © 2006 Ed Heaton
Previously published in five separate volumes:
Whispers Down the Lane
© 1995 Beverly Lewis
Secret in the Willows
© 1995 Beverly Lewis
Catch a Falling Star
© 1995 Beverly Lewis
Night of the Fireflies
© 1995 Beverly Lewis
A Cry in the Dark
© 1996 Beverly Lewis
All scripture quotations, unless indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.
www.zondervan.com
All rights reserved. The “
NIV
” and “New International Version” trademarks are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by International Bible Society. Use of either trademark requires the permission of International Bible Society.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
E-book edition created 2011
ISBN 978-1-5855-8663-9
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
BOOK ONE: Whispers Down the Lane
BOOK TWO: Secret in the Willows
BOOK THREE: Catch a Falling Star
BOOK FOUR: Night of the Fireflies
BEVERLY LEWIS, born in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, fondly recalls her growing-up years. A keen interest in her mother’s Plain family heritage has inspired Beverly to set many of her popular stories in Amish county, beginning with her inaugural novel,
The Shunning
.
A former schoolteacher and accomplished pianist, Beverly has written over eighty books for adults and children. Five of her blockbuster novels have received the Gold Book Award for sales over 500,000 copies, and
The Brethren
won a 2007 Christy Award.
Beverly and her husband, David, make their home in Colorado, where they enjoy hiking, biking, reading, writing, making music, and spending time with their three grandchildren.
G
IRLS
O
NLY
(GO!)
*
Youth Fiction
Girls Only! Volume One
Girls Only! Volume Two
S
UMMER
H
ILL
S
ECRETS
†
Youth Fiction
SummerHill Secrets Volume One
SummerHill Secrets Volume Two
H
OLLY’S
H
EART
Youth Fiction
Holly’s Heart Collection One
†
Holly’s Heart Collection Two
†
Holly’s Heart Collection Three
*
*
4 books in each volume
†
5 books in each volume
To
my aunt Ada Reba,
who held my little hand
long ago…
and whispered a prayer.
Happy is the house that shelters a friend.
—R
ALPH
W
ALDO
E
MERSON
1
A cry rang out in the stillness.
“Merry Hanson!”
I jerked into consciousness, tense and trembling. Sitting up, I peered out at my moonlit bedroom through sleep-filled eyes, listening. The gentle, steady purr of kittens filled the peaceful quiet. Their soft, warm bodies snuggled close on top of the comforter as I moved my feet.
Must be a dream.
I leaned back onto my pillow, my body stiff from the rude awakening.
Then in the silence, I heard it again. A determined voice, quivering with desperation. “Merry, please wake up!”
Stumbling from the bed, I dashed to the window and looked out. Shadows played beneath the white light of a full November moon. One shadow stood out from the others and moved slowly toward the house.
I bumped my nose against the cold window as I stared down at a fragile-looking figure. Light from the moon had turned her wheatcolored hair almost white. I drew in a quick breath.
Lissa Vyner!
Straining, I lifted the storm window and poked my head out into the frosty Pennsylvania night. Squinting down from the second story of our hundred-year-old farmhouse, I tried to brush the sleep away. My school friend was crouched near the old maple.
“Lissa, what are you doing out there?” I called to her in a hushed voice. Shivers danced up and down my arms.
She pulled her jacket against her body. “C-can I sp-spend the n-n-night?” she pleaded, tears in her voice.
“Meet me around back.” I closed the window and scrambled for my fleece-lined slippers and robe. Shadrach and Meshach, my two golden-haired kittens, were curled up on it. “Sorry, little boys,” I whispered, pulling it out from under their drowsy heads. “Where’s Abednego?”
That ornery cat is always missing,
I thought.
Silently, I slipped down the hallway and past my older brother’s room to the stairs. I didn’t dare let Skip in on this thing with Lissa, especially since he was in charge while Mom and Dad were overseas on a mission trip.
I stopped in my tracks as I came within a few feet of the kitchen. Shafts of light streamed into the hallway. It meant only one thing. My know-it-all brother was still up—the last person I wanted to bump into on a night like this!
Tiptoeing closer, I peeked around the door. He was stuffing his face with the leftovers from supper. This could be tricky—smuggling Lissa into the house without Skip knowing.
He glanced up. “Hey, feline freak. Can’t ya sleep?”
I ignored him, heading for the back door.
“Sleepwalking, Mer?” he persisted.
“What?” I muttered, pulling the curtains to one side and peering out. Skip smacked disgustingly on a meat loaf sandwich while I devised a way to distract him.
“You should be in bed,” he demanded.
I whirled around. “
You’re
still up!”
“Don’t get smart, cat breath.” Skip gulped down half a glass of milk in one swallow.
In a flash, I remembered Abednego, my wayward kitten. Genius! I turned the doorknob and stepped outside.
“Hey, close that door!” Skip yelled.
“Lost my cat,” I said, pulling the door shut. Casting a fleeting glance over my shoulder, I went in search of Lissa. Around the side of the house, near a stack of firewood, I found her.
“I s-saw the l-light in the k-kitchen,” she stammered. “D-Didn’t want t-to—”
“C’mon, it’s awful cold.” I led her around to the long front porch. “Wait here—I’ll go through the house and open the door.”
Meow!
I leaned over and spotted two shining eyes under the porch.
Then I heard Skip calling, “Merry, get your cat tail in here!”
My heart pounded as I scooped Abednego into my arms. Lifting his black furry body to my face, I darted around the house and into the kitchen.
“That’s one fat cat,” Skip said, casting a scornful look my way. “Too bad you found him.”
I shot him a fake smile. No time to argue; Lissa was waiting, half frozen to death on the front porch.
Cuddling Abednego, I spoke in my best baby talk. “Hello, my pwecious little boy.”
Skip groaned. “Are there any strays that
don’t
live here?”
“Good night,” I snapped, turning to go. When I was safely out of Skip’s sight, I dashed for the front door with Abednego still in my arms.
Lissa moaned softly as I let her in.
“Follow me,” I whispered.
We sneaked up the stairs to my room. This wasn’t going to be a typical sleepover. Lissa’s eyes were swollen from crying, her bottom lip cracked and bleeding. And she was limping!