A Promise of Hope by Amy Clipston

and then see what your heart says.”
    Sarah nodded, but she still needed answers. She had to figure out how to get past her grief and understand what God’s plan was for her and the children. Please God, she prayed silently, please show me the right path for my zwillingbopplin.
    “You do good work,” Luke said as he examined the triple dresser. “Your grossdaddi taught you well.” Glancing around, he examined the shop, thinking how similar it was to his own back home.
    The large, open area was divided into work areas separated by workbenches cluttered with an array of tools. The sweet scent of wood and stain filled his nostrils. The men working around Jake and him were building beautifully designed dining room sets, bedroom suites, entertainment centers, hutches, end tables, desks, and coffee tables.
    Hammers banged, saw blades whirled, and air compressors hummed. Just like his shop back home, the air compressors powering the tools ran off diesel generators.
    Returning Luke’s nod, Jake Miller swiped the back of his hand across his brow. “Thanks for the compliment. You do good work too.” He leaned back on the workbench and grabbed a bottle of water. After a long gulp, he placed it on the bench beside him. “So, you’re from Ohio, huh?”
    “Ya.” Luke sat on a bench and opened a can of Coke. “Middlefield.”
    “I didn’t realize Peter had grown up in Ohio. I wonder why he didn’t tell anyone about his family back home.”
    Rubbing his lower lip, Luke contemplated how much to reveal about Peter’s history. “I guess you could say he was running from some things in his past.”
    “Why hide the past?” Jake wondered. “Peter had a great life here. He and Sarah seemed so happy. I can’t see how telling where he came from would ruin that. I think it would be more detrimental and risky to create a web of lies you have to remember so you don’t flub it.”
    A smile crept across Luke’s lips. “You’re a very wise young man.”
    Grinning, Jake stood. “I try.”
    “So, what’s your story?” Luke asked.
    “Well, I live about a mile up the road in half of a two-story house my uncle owns, and I love working on furniture. That’s about it.”
    “Do you have a special maedel in your life?”
    Jake shrugged. “I guess you could say I have a girl. At least, she’s special to me. She moved back home to Virginia, but she’s supposed to come visit in the spring.”
    “Oh?” Luke grabbed a can of stain.
    “She’s Lindsay’s older sister, Jessica.” Jake grabbed a paintbrush from his tool cart. “We met last summer when she came to live with Rebecca and Daniel. She wanted to go back home to live with her mom’s best friend and finish high school. I’m hoping I can convince her to go to college in Pennsylvania, so we have a chance to get to know each other better. She’s got another year of high school yet, though.”
    “She’s English?” Luke asked.
    “Yup.” Jake grinned. “She’s a great girl.”
    “You seem smitten.” Luke shook the can of stain and then opened and stirred it.
    The young man chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I am. I just wish she’d realize how smitten I am and give me a chance.”
    “Luke,” a voice behind him called.
    Turning, Luke spotted Timothy frowning near the door to the parking lot. He wondered idly if that man went through life with a dark cloud over his head.
    “Can I speak with you for a moment?” Timothy asked, motioning toward the door.
    “Ya.” Luke cut his eyes to Jake. “I’ll be back to help you stain this.”
    Jake took the can of stain from him. “No problem. Take your time.”
    Luke crossed the shop and followed Timothy out to the parking lot, where they stood by a pile of scrap wood. “What’s going on?” he asked.
    “I’d like to know what your intentions are with my sister.”
    “My intentions?” Luke gripped his suspenders. “I reckon I intend to become her friend so I can be a part of her zwillingbopplin’s lives. That’s as far