get better acquainted.
His mother was the one who encouraged him to pursue his dream to start a wild bird rescue center. “What do you have to lose?” she told him. “If you don’t give this center a try, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. And if you don’t follow up with Jackie, you’ll always wonder if she was the one who got away.”
“Despite how Dad feels about it?” Will asked her. “He’s barely gotten over the fact that I’m a vet and not a surgeon following in his footsteps.” Will’s father cast a rather large shadow.
“Oh, he’ll be upset for a while. But he’s a bird lover at heart.”
And so he packed up, moved to Stoney Ridge with two suitcases, and the key to his new dream.
The clip-clop of a horse and buggy down Main Street jolted Will out of his muse. He stared at it for a while, admiring the high step of the Thoroughbred. He grinned. He’d never seen a buggy horse thatdidn’t act like it was having the time of its life. Beyond the horse, Will noticed the Sweet Tooth Bakery. Why, it was practically across the street from the center! Jackie was right—this place was an ideal location. If days were slow, he could head over and get one of those unforgettable cinnamon rolls. Once word spread about his center, he doubted he would ever have a slow day.
He walked through each room again, footsteps echoing. He straightened an old leftover schoolhouse clock hanging cockeyed on the wall and was surprised to see how late it was. Surprised the clock battery was still working too.
He leaned his back against the front door, fighting the feeling that he had made a huge mistake. “Oh, Lord, bless this . . . endeavor.”
Will had a habit of cautious prayer. He believed in God but found he was a little suspicious of him. He was afraid that anything more than a polite acquaintance might result in God changing him in ways he wouldn’t like and asking him to do things he didn’t want to do. That could happen.
Someday, Will might investigate faith a little more thoroughly, but for now, a healthy respect for the Almighty suited him well. And it couldn’t hurt to ask for a little help with this center. He felt scared to death. And thrilled too. Tomorrow, the life of the Stoney Ridge Wild Bird Rescue Center would begin.
He locked the door and drove out to the Inn at Eagle Hill.
As Will pulled into the driveway of the Inn at Eagle Hill and came to a stop, he paused, absorbing the view of the farm. It was November, the sun was setting in the west, and the stark trees that framed the ridgeline along the back of the farmhouse looked like they were practically lit on fire. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He took a picture on his iPhone and sent it to his mother. Of all people, she would appreciate this setting. She had stayed at the inn last spring and hadn’t seen it at this time of year.
He noticed two Amish boys on the porch, crouched with their bottoms high and their heads against the floorboards, peering through the cracks.
“What are you looking for?” Will said as he walked toward the farmhouse.
The younger boy popped his head up in surprise. He grabbed his black hat and jammed it on. “There’s a bird stuck under the porch.”
The older boy leaned back on his knees, taking Will in, sizing him up. “I know you. Your mother’s stayed here.”
“That’s right. I’m Will Stoltz. My mother is Delia Stoltz.” He put out his hand for a shake. “I don’t remember your names, though.”
“I’m Luke and this is Sammy.” A shuffling sound underneath the deck drew his attention back to the bird. “We’ve been stuffing sunflower seeds down through the cracks. Something’s wrong with the bird.”
Will crouched down to listen. The bird was alive, scuffling through leaves and dirt for the seeds. He peered through a crack and thought it was hopping strangely, as if its legs were glued or tied together. “Is there a way to get under the porch?”
Luke jumped to his feet
His mother was the one who encouraged him to pursue his dream to start a wild bird rescue center. “What do you have to lose?” she told him. “If you don’t give this center a try, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. And if you don’t follow up with Jackie, you’ll always wonder if she was the one who got away.”
“Despite how Dad feels about it?” Will asked her. “He’s barely gotten over the fact that I’m a vet and not a surgeon following in his footsteps.” Will’s father cast a rather large shadow.
“Oh, he’ll be upset for a while. But he’s a bird lover at heart.”
And so he packed up, moved to Stoney Ridge with two suitcases, and the key to his new dream.
The clip-clop of a horse and buggy down Main Street jolted Will out of his muse. He stared at it for a while, admiring the high step of the Thoroughbred. He grinned. He’d never seen a buggy horse thatdidn’t act like it was having the time of its life. Beyond the horse, Will noticed the Sweet Tooth Bakery. Why, it was practically across the street from the center! Jackie was right—this place was an ideal location. If days were slow, he could head over and get one of those unforgettable cinnamon rolls. Once word spread about his center, he doubted he would ever have a slow day.
He walked through each room again, footsteps echoing. He straightened an old leftover schoolhouse clock hanging cockeyed on the wall and was surprised to see how late it was. Surprised the clock battery was still working too.
He leaned his back against the front door, fighting the feeling that he had made a huge mistake. “Oh, Lord, bless this . . . endeavor.”
Will had a habit of cautious prayer. He believed in God but found he was a little suspicious of him. He was afraid that anything more than a polite acquaintance might result in God changing him in ways he wouldn’t like and asking him to do things he didn’t want to do. That could happen.
Someday, Will might investigate faith a little more thoroughly, but for now, a healthy respect for the Almighty suited him well. And it couldn’t hurt to ask for a little help with this center. He felt scared to death. And thrilled too. Tomorrow, the life of the Stoney Ridge Wild Bird Rescue Center would begin.
He locked the door and drove out to the Inn at Eagle Hill.
As Will pulled into the driveway of the Inn at Eagle Hill and came to a stop, he paused, absorbing the view of the farm. It was November, the sun was setting in the west, and the stark trees that framed the ridgeline along the back of the farmhouse looked like they were practically lit on fire. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He took a picture on his iPhone and sent it to his mother. Of all people, she would appreciate this setting. She had stayed at the inn last spring and hadn’t seen it at this time of year.
He noticed two Amish boys on the porch, crouched with their bottoms high and their heads against the floorboards, peering through the cracks.
“What are you looking for?” Will said as he walked toward the farmhouse.
The younger boy popped his head up in surprise. He grabbed his black hat and jammed it on. “There’s a bird stuck under the porch.”
The older boy leaned back on his knees, taking Will in, sizing him up. “I know you. Your mother’s stayed here.”
“That’s right. I’m Will Stoltz. My mother is Delia Stoltz.” He put out his hand for a shake. “I don’t remember your names, though.”
“I’m Luke and this is Sammy.” A shuffling sound underneath the deck drew his attention back to the bird. “We’ve been stuffing sunflower seeds down through the cracks. Something’s wrong with the bird.”
Will crouched down to listen. The bird was alive, scuffling through leaves and dirt for the seeds. He peered through a crack and thought it was hopping strangely, as if its legs were glued or tied together. “Is there a way to get under the porch?”
Luke jumped to his feet
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