The Gift of Hope by Kristen McKanagh

Author:Kristen McKanagh [McKanagh, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-04-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Aaron stared at the ceiling, the wood grain familiar after twenty-two years of staring at it. In the other twin bed across the room, not quite close enough to reach over and touch, Joshua snored lightly.

They’d shared this room since they were toddlers, as soon as Joshua started sleeping in his crib, though Aaron had only been two at the time. As far as he was concerned, Joshua had always been there. Not always a good thing. Bruders could be wonderful annoying. When he’d been ten, they’d agreed they needed to marry off Daniel quickly. As the oldest, he had a bedroom all to himself. If he married, he could move away, and they could each get their own bedroom.

Twelve years later, that plan hadn’t exactly held up as the brightest or easiest to carry out.

They’d given up on that idea almost as soon as Daniel started Rumspringa and it became obvious that no girls in the district interested him. Or perhaps more accurate, his deliberate nature kept him heart-whole, despite the way girls tried to catch his attention. Aaron had secretly thought maybe Faith Kemp had caught his bruder’s eye, but then she’d followed her sister Mercy and jumped the fence.

Not that he was thinking of Daniel’s girl troubles tonight. He had his own.

Hope’s face imposed itself in the darkness every time he closed his eyes. Hope frowning at him. Hope laughing at him. Hope riding away with Luke Raber at the slow pace a boy would set if he wanted extra time with that certain special girl.

Outside his open window, an owl’s soft hoot floated on the currents of the lazy breeze.

With a low sigh, Aaron quietly threw back his quilt and shivered, but didn’t lie back down. Sleep was not coming. Maybe he could use work to bleed off this anxious energy gripping his body. As quickly and silently as he could, he gathered his clothes and snuck out of the room. He dressed in the bathroom he shared with Daniel and Joshua, then made his way out of the house.

He had every intention of heading to the small workspace in the barn where he often did whittling work on smaller toys, or anything else he could do without the bigger tools located in his workshop in town. Only his feet seemed to have developed minds of their own, turning him toward the path that led into the woods. He tried to convince himself he was simply wandering. But secretly he knew better. He was going to Hope’s bridge, using the bare light of the moon to guide him there in the dark.

As soon as he rounded the bend in the path that opened up a clear view of the bridge, he stopped, afraid that what he was seeing were his own thoughts come to life. A spirit sent to torment him.

Not a troll under the bridge, but an angel above.

Hope sat in the center of her bridge, legs drawn up, arms wrapped around them, chin resting on her knees.

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