Hatcher - Cross My Heart

To Shayla Jo Paskett, my beautiful granddaughter, for sharing your experience in horse rescues and the training of wild mustangs. Ive loved watching you grow over the years into a horsewoman extraordinaire.

To Christi King, for generously sharing your time and expertise about the equine therapy program at Ride for Joy.

February

Kuna, Idaho

Ben Henning showed his cousin Jessica into the kitchen of the old farmhouse. Im not really ready for company, he told her as he motioned to one of the chairs.

I can see that. She smiled as her gaze took in the stacks of boxes in the kitchen, the living room, and down the hallway.

Want some coffee? Its fresh made.

No, thanks. I dont plan to stay long. I know youre busy with moving and all. Besides, I need to get back to Moms house before its time to feed Hope again. Shes growing so fast, and shes always hungry.

Ben settled onto a chair opposite Jessica. How old is she now?

Almost six months.

Cant hardly believe that.

Me either. Jessica leaned toward the tote shed set on the floor next to her chair. A moment later she drew out a large book. This is Andrew Hennings Bible. She slid it across the table to him. I brought it for you.

For me? The leather cover was worn and cracked, the outside edges curled. He ran a hand gently over the book that had once belonged to his great-great-grandfather. The man who had owned this house, this farm, from early in the Great Depression until he was almost seventy.

For you. Jessica smiled gently. Great-Grandpa Andrew... Well, I guess he was your great-great-grandfather, wasnt he? I always forget that since you and I are close to the same age. Anyway, he gave it to my grandmother before he died, with the instructions that she was to keep it until she felt God tell her to pass it along to another family member. Then that person was to do the same whenever the time came. My mom gave it to me after Grandma Franis funeral, and now I want you to have it.

Ben opened the front cover, saw that the first page had been torn then mended with tape. Several pages stuck together when he turned them. He pulled them apart, revealing the Henning family tree. His namesake, Benjamin Tandy Henning, was one of the children listed beneath Andrews and Helens names. He ran his finger down the list. The change in penmanship told him when someone else had taken over the task of filling in the names of great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren.

Are you sure youre ready to give it up? he asked. You havent had it very long. Your grandmother hasnt even been gone a year.

Im sure.

He heard the smile in her answer before he looked up to meet her gaze.

Ben, when I heard you were moving to the farm to live, I knew God wanted you to have this Bible. I dont know why, but I believe the Lords got something special in mind for both you and this farm. She leaned toward him. When my mom gave it to me, she told me to let what I found inside bless me. And it did. What I found helped give me back my faith and restore my hope in the future. And those two changes allowed me to open my heart to love again. I dont know whats in store for you, but I believe God wants to encourage you through His Word and the notes Grandpa Henning made inside that old Bible. I think God wants you to be blessed by it next.

Bens heart had quickened as Jessica spoke. Just last night hed believed God had given him a vision for this property. The vision was nebulous at best, but he trusted it would take shape, that God would reveal more in time. His cousins words seemed to confirm it.

Thanks, Jessica. He closed the leather cover. This means a lot to me. More than I can tell you.

She nodded, and he had the feeling she understood even if he couldnt put it into words.

August

Sitting in his pickup truck, Ben punched the address of the destination into his iPhone. Once the GPS coordinates were set, he tapped the screen to start the map app. Proceed to the route, then turn left, Siri told him.

That much hed already known. He put the truck in gear and followed the driveway to the road. Turning as commanded, he couldnt help thinking it would be nice if directions for life were as easy to come by. Just punch in the desired destination, and presto, learn how to get there by proceeding to the route and turning left.

For the past six months, it seemed as if hed stumbled along, finding his way more by accident than by divine guidance. Hed never lost the belief that God had given him a vision for the farm, but making it happen hadnt been as easy as hed expected. Counselors had been reluctant to work with him or promise to refer clients. Horsemen had wanted more than he could afford for the right kind of horses. Insurance companies wanted a small fortune to insure. His banker was dubious about him surviving more than a few months.

Hed been frustrated by the number of times hed thought a door was opening only to have it slam in his face. If this was really Gods plan, shouldnt it come together smoothly? When hed said as much to Grandpa Grant last night, the older man had laughed and told Ben he had a lot to learn. Not exactly what hed wanted to hear.

Ben hadnt admitted to Grandpa Granthis mentor, his adviser, his favorite person in the worldthat he also believed the Harmony Barn, as he was calling this new endeavor, could be more than just a service to help others. It might be a way for him to finally make amends for what hed done to his best friend. Maybe the next time Ben tried to reach out to Craig, he wouldnt be shut down. Ben owed the guy, and he wanted to help. If only hed get the chance

Siri broke into those darker thoughts, telling him to turn left once again. When he reached the intersection, he did so.

The main roads in this rural county of southwestern Idaho were laid out in perfect square miles. Although the roads might undulate with the rise and fall of the landscape, they ran straight as an arrow, with few exceptions. On Bens right he passed cornfields that he guessed would be harvested before much longer. Whatever once grew in the field on his left had already been harvested and plowed under. He wondered if Ashley Showalter lived on a farm like one of these.

He hadnt called her in advance of this visit. Maybe he should have made an appointment, but hed been too excited when the second person in two days had told him Ashley was someone he should talk to about the horses. Perhaps the reason he hadnt called her first was because he didnt want to risk another closed door. He wanted the chance to look her in the eyes and convince her that she should help him.

* * *

Sweat trickled along Ashleys spine and down the sides of her face as she carried a board up the ladder. She would rather be inside sipping a cold beverage than outside in this intense August heat. But she expected another horse to arrive today and wanted the new shelter finished before the truck and trailer pulled into her driveway.

The crunch of gravel warned her it might be too late to finish. She looked up, but the silver truck coming slowly toward the shed wasnt pulling a trailer. Great. The last thing she wanted right now was an interruption.

The truck stopped, the door opened, and a man got out, followed by a yellow Lab. Ashley was about to shout a warning about her own dogs, although they were locked inside the house, but the driver moved to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate. An instant later the Lab jumped into the bed and lay down in the shade cast by the nearest tree.

She watched as the manthirtyish, tall, blond, and impossibly good-lookingheaded for the door of her house without a glance in her direction. Before he reached it, she called to him. Nobodys in there.