Hearts in Harmony. Gail Sattler

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      Therefore, my brothers,

       I want you to know that through Jesus

       the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you.

      —Acts 13:38

      Dedicated to Colleen Coble, TD.

       Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible.

       SD

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Letter to Reader

      Chapter One

      The engine began to spit. The car chugged, slowed and died.

      Celeste Hackett steered her mother’s decrepit sedan onto the gravel shoulder of the deserted country road and came to a complete stop. The endless expanse of farmers’ fields seemed to mock the silence of the dead car.

      She refused to accept being stranded in the middle of nowhere.

      Celeste attempted to restart the car, but the engine only made a horrid grinding sound, turning over and over with no contact.

      With a groan, she lowered her head to the top of the steering wheel. She had been a fool to trade cars with her mother. She should have known her mother’s hunk of junk wouldn’t make the long trip back without something going wrong, but she tried to convince herself now that it was far better that her own reliable car was sitting in her mother’s garage, ready for her mother to begin her vacation tomorrow, and that it was she, Celeste, who was stranded in the middle of nowhere. If the car couldn’t make the shorter trip fifty miles between her home and her mother’s home, it definitely wouldn’t have made the fifteen-hundred-mile trip from her mother’s home to her aunt’s home, which was where her mother was going on an extended holiday.

      Celeste now had two options. She could either walk ten miles ahead to the gas station at the highway entrance to ask for assistance, or thirty-five miles back to her mother’s house where she could call for a tow truck.

      At the thought of all that walking, Celeste gritted her teeth and whacked the top of the dashboard with her fist. The needle on the gas gauge quivered, then dropped to the E.

      Celeste tried not to scream. Her mother had given her a list of the car’s problems but apparently had forgotten to mention the malfunctioning gas gauge. However, if her mother knew about it, list, or not, there would be a container of gas in the trunk.

      Celeste froze. Carrying a can of gas in the trunk was dangerous, but it was also dangerous for a woman to be stranded alone in the middle of nowhere.

      Praying for the best, Celeste pushed the heavy door open, trying to ignore the creak of the rusty hinge. As she stepped onto the highway, a blast of heat hit her in the face. She did her best to ignore the stifling temperatures and walked to the rear of the car, where the stench of the car’s last, fatal backfire caused her to cough painfully. Once she caught her breath, she jabbed the key in the trunk lock. After a series of calculated wiggles, a click sounded and the lock opened. When she hoisted the heavy lid of the trunk, gas fumes wafted up.

      The gas can lay on its side. Beside it lay the plug for the container’s air hole. She picked up the plastic container and shook it, confirming that it was indeed, empty.

      Celeste squeezed her eyes shut for a brief second. Taking the short cut through the country rather than the longer but well-traveled main highway had not been a good choice.

      She slammed the trunk shut. The bang echoed into oblivion over the surrounding fields, taunting her.

      Grumbling under her breath, she replaced the plug to the empty gas container, pocketed the keys, hiked her purse strap over her shoulder, and began the long walk down the deserted country road.

      Monday morning, she was going to buy a cell phone.

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