Hope Like Wildflowers, page 1
Praise for The Heart of the Mountains, prequel to Hope like Wildflowers
“Pepper Basham weaves a stunning tale of suffering and hope set in the heart of Appalachia. Blending romance, humor, and history, The Heart of the Mountains reveals a God who not only heals the broken but redeems hearts in ways no one can imagine.”
—Tara Johnson, author of All Through the Night,
Where Dandelions Bloom, and Engraved on the Heart
“The Heart of the Mountains is a world created with exceptional skills by Pepper Basham. It immersed me in the mountain life until I could see the scenery, smell the plants, hear the mountain breeze and the bird calls. All of that was wonderful, but more than that was the way I felt as I read. The hurt, the love, the longing, the loss, the fear, the joy. Basham created a beautiful, emotional work of art. I enjoyed every word.”
—Mary Connealy, bestselling author of The Element of Love
“Pepper Basham's The Heart of the Mountains has a perfect title, as her story reveals the hearts of her characters as they face one challenge after another in their mountain community. You'll hardly have time to catch your breath from one exciting scene to the next. Great characters, great setting, great background history. Great story! You won't want to miss it.”
—Ann H. Gabhart, bestselling author of Along a Storied Trail
“Exciting. Moving. Humorous. Touching. The Heart of the Mountains touches every sense. With characters that are strong and determined and a story that moves like honey dripping from the comb, Pepper Basham has nailed this Appalachian story. Set in 1919, Basham draws the reader in with the strength and sassiness of Cora Taylor. She grasps the era, the mountains, and heart of the people of the mountains. This must read will find you flipping page after page and sad when it ends. Pepper Basham's work is exquisite.”
—Cindy K. Sproles, author of Christian Market Book Award,
Novel of the Year, What Momma Left Behind
“The Heart of the Mountains is a beautiful story of second-chances, redemption, and finding home. Filled with breathtaking scenery, heart-tugging encounters, and tender romance, this latest story by Pepper Basham will leave you feeling as if you've just spent time in the dangerous, yet fascinating, Appalachian Mountains.”
—Gabrielle Meyer, author of When the Day Comes
OTHER BOOKS BY PEPPER BASHAM
Hope Between the Pages
The Red Ribbon
Laurel's Dream (My Heart Belongs in the Blue Ridge)
The Heart of the Mountains
A Freddie and Grace Mystery:
The Mistletoe Countess
The Cairo Curse
The Juliet Code
Hope Like Wildflowers © 2024 by Pepper Basham
Print ISBN 978-1-63609-951-4
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-63609-952-1
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher. Reproduced text may not be used on the World Wide Web. No Barbour Publishing content may be used as artificial intelligence training data for machine learning, or in any similar software development.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Scripture quotations marked ESV are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®. Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. The ESV® text has been reproduced in cooperation with and by permission of Good News Publishers. Unauthorized reproduction of this publication is prohibited. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover Model © Idiko Neer/Trevilion Images
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., 1810 Barbour Drive, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to inspire the world with the life-changing message of the Bible.
Printed in the United States of America.
DEDICATION
To the amazing women in my family,
past and present, who have been “caught by Jesus”
and passed their love for Him down to the next generation.
Thank you.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Chapter 1
October 1917, Oak Plains, NC
A HIGH-PITCHED HOWL SPLIT THROUGH the shadowed dusk, echoing against the towering pines of the forest. Its haunting refrain incited a chill over Kizzie McAdams’ skin.
Her attention shot toward the sound, but the twilit woods gave no visible answer. She didn't have to see the wild glowing eyes to know what followed her in the dark.
Coyotes. Her breath snagged on the very thought.
With a tighter grip to her tattered travel bag, she stumbled forward, her protruding abdomen contracting into a hard ball of needled pains. The spasms had been coming more regularly, but she wasn't sure how seriously to take them. Pain knifed a little deeper as if in answer.
Sunset bowed to nightfall's cloak, lengthening the shadows along her path, its last golden-red hues dying into the gloaming like a foretaste of her immediate future.
Her body shivered from the mixture of her pain and her thoughts.
No. She rubbed her palm over her stomach. She had to keep going. Only a little longer now. A mile? Maybe less?
Charles Morgan's land waited on the other side of the woods. If she could only get to him, he'd take care of her. He'd told her he loved her.
Her hand smoothed against the tightness of her stomach.
And this baby.
After all, if people love you, they take care of you, don't they?
The question echoed back to her in mockery, and the renewed memory of her daddy's unrelenting words barreled through her mind.
You done ruint yourself, girl. And I ain't got no place for ruint young'uns.
Her breath lodged in her throat.
Charles had to help her.
She hobbled a few more steps, her unbalanced weight paired with the uneven terrain slowing her progress. Her attention raised to the thin gold band clinging to the horizon like the finish ribbon in a footrace.
Just a little farther.
She glanced back the way she'd come, the forest leaving no trail of her slow journey. Fresh tears threatened her vision, and she almost laughed at the impossibility of their presence. How did she have any tears left? She'd cried on and off for the last two months, moving from one closed door to another. After leaving her parents’ house deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains, her daddy's angry rejection and her mama's pleas replayed over and over in her mind.
“Don't cast her out, Sam,” her mama had begged.
The sober faces of her siblings as they watched Kizzie take the long trek down the road from the only home she'd ever known haunted her.
But Daddy had disowned her.
Sent her away forever.
And she'd never see them again.
With what little money Kizzie had, she'd attempted to find a job in various towns over the last two months, but no one wanted to hire a pregnant woman without a husband to claim.
Each place offered the same rejection, the same glances of shame.
So she'd wandered until she used up the last of her money and decided she only had one place left to go.
Her body ached. Dirt caked beneath her fingernails and in her hair. The boys at school had once called her the prettiest girl on the mountain, but no trace of that girl existed now. Leaves knotted in her dark hair, and scratches from the forest left marks along her arms and cheeks. She wasn't sure how bad they looked, but her tears alerted her of their presence on her face.
The last three nights, she'd slept on hard, cold forest ground, dreaming of the warmth of her family's cabin, only to wake up hungrier and more alone than the day before.
Another howl, much nearer than the last one, interrupted her sob.
Kizzie dashed away the tears and pushed her sore feet into a faster pace.
Her stomach roiled from tension and hunger, any satisfaction from the beef jerky and stale biscuit of last night's supper long gone.
Up ahead, a faint light filtered into the darkening forest.
Was that a house through the trees? Her stomach tightened again, slowing her stride.
Leaves rustled in the shadows behind her, a steady rhythm drawing closer.
Something was following her. Running.
More rustled leaves.
Her face chilled.
“Help me,” she cried into the night.
The flickering light through a window blinked into view. “Please. Help.”
The yip of a coyote warned her of her assailants. Another howl erupted so close it raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
Perhaps she deserved this fate. Her choices. Her mistakes.
What sort of mother could she ever become with such a wretched beginning?
But her little baby didn't deserve it.
A growl rumbled from behind, sending chills skittering over her shoulders and forcing her into a run.
“Help!” she called again as the front porch of the house emerged through the gathering dusk. “Somebody, please. Help me.”
A boom of gunfire crippled Kizzie to her knees, and a warm rush of liquid ran down her legs.
Dear heavens. Had she been shot in the stomach? A renewed ache gripped her back.
What on earth?
Another blast thundered from ahead, followed by a yip of pain behind her. At least the gunman aimed for the coyotes, whether he was welcoming to a castaway or not. She pushed past her own hurting and rose from the ground.
Up ahead, the silhouette of a large man marched toward her, fading sunset glowing orange behind him and obscuring his face. A mountain of a man, with shoulders wider than the surrounding pines.
He raised the gun again, firing into the forest, and another coyote's cry responded.
The pain in her middle withered her to the earth, but she shuffled backward in the dry leaves as the massive man drew nearer.
“You ’bout got yourself killed, girl.” The deep rumble of his voice percolated with a strange combination of steel and tenderness. “Let's get you outta these woods.”
He tossed the rifle over his shoulder and offered a hand. Kizzie reached for it, her legs wobbly. The man caught her up before she wilted back to the ground, his face nearer, skin as brown as walnuts, eyes even darker. “Miss Kizzie?” He released a long sigh and glanced over the forest again. “What are you doing out here in the night?”
Joshua Chappell. Kizzie's bottom lip wobbled. A friend.
“Joshua.” She eked out the name on a sob. Of all the people to find her!
She started to say more, but another pain racked through her, inciting a cry.
“You're hurt, young'un.” He made a quick turn and increased his pace toward the house. “Let's get you to Nella. She'll know what do.”
A sudden sense of safety whooshed over her, like nothing she'd known in months. Strength, calm, protection. Joshua and Nella Chappell were some of Charles’ best tenants and had made her feel welcome since the first day she'd walked onto the Morgan land to take a job as a housemaid.
Almost a year ago now.
Kizzie pressed her face into his shoulder, the tears spilling down her cheeks as the pain brought another whimper.
He walked faster.
She'd known such loneliness, so much grief over the past few months, but a sense of safety from Joshua Chappell's arms poured through her, strengthened her. Her shaky sigh breathed out with some of her fear.
Even if they knew the truth, the Chappells wouldn't cast her out, would they?
The glow of lantern light swelled into the darkness as Joshua's boots hit the wood of the porch steps.
“What are you dragging into this house, Joshua Chappell?” came the distinctive voice of Joshua's wife. “We can't take on no more stray critters—”
Joshua turned, the lantern light from the porch glowing fully upon them, halting Nella's words.
“Have mercy! Kizzie McAdams?” Nella stepped aside from the door's threshold. “What on earth was you doin’ out in them woods this time of night?”
“I … I'm sorry, Nella.” Kizzie sniffled a reply.
“I think she's hurt.” Joshua moved past his wife to deposit Kizzie on a chair near the small fireplace alight with flames. “Something ain't right.”
Firelight gave the small room a cozy feel. She released a deep sigh and pressed back as far into the curved wooden chair as her body allowed. Her feet ached. Her head throbbed. And the unusual twisting in her stomach nearly brought on a bout of nausea.
The Chappells’ three children sat at the small table in the next room. Ruth, Elias, and Isaac all stared with wide eyes, Isaac with his spoon still in the air as if in midbite.
Nella replaced her husband at Kizzie's side, her dark eyes scanning over Kizzie's entire body. “What are you doin’ lookin’ like you ain't seen a washstand in days? When was the last time you ate?” She plucked a leaf from Kizzie's hair and showed it to her. “You know it ain't safe in them woods on your own, girl, especially come nightfall.”
Kizzie wasn't sure if Nella really wanted an answer with the sudden onslaught of questions, but she ventured on answering the first. “I ain't had no place.”
“Ain't had no place?” Nella repeated, her voice pitched higher. “You mean to tell me, you been sleepin’ out in them woods for heaven knows how long?” Her brow puckered. “And why is that?”
Kizzie ran a hand through her dark hair, more loose than pinned up. “I was coming back from my parents’ house after … after a short visit.”
She looked away, tears beginning another rise in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to share her shame with someone else, especially the good Chappell family. Disappoint someone else.
“You walked from up near Maple Springs?” Nella's gaze grew in intensity, more questions in those eyes than Kizzie had any interest in answering. “That's over twenty miles of mountain paths.”
Kizzie refused to elaborate that she'd walked much farther than the distance from Maple Springs if she counted all the towns she'd wandered through along the way. And her body felt every bit of it.
Another pain sliced through Kizzie's middle. She pressed her palm over her hardening abdomen and sent Nella a look. Discretion was becoming increasingly difficult, especially at the moment. “I … I don't know what's wrong.” She lowered her voice, her gaze flickering to Joshua. “I think Joshua's gunshot scared me so bad, I lost my water.”
“Lost your …” Nella surveyed Kizzie from face to dusty boots, pausing on her middle. With a deep sigh, her eyes drooped closed for only a second, and a renewed wash of heated shame rose from Kizzie's chest into her face.
Did Nella know? Or was she only embarrassed at the fact that Kizzie, at such a growed-up age, had lost her water?
After focusing another second on Kizzie's face, Nella turned to Joshua and some unspoken exchange sent him into motion.
“Boys, get your things. We're havin’ an overnight in the barn loft.”
The two boys jumped up from the table with happy cries and ran up the narrow steps nearby.
“Ruth.” Nella stood and shifted her attention to her daughter. “Get some willow bark from its drying place in the barn and return directly.”
Ruth glanced from her mama to Kizzie and then, with a slight nod, left with her daddy and brothers out the front door.
The room fell quiet and Nella lowered back to Kizzie's side. “How far along are you?”
Nella's words brought Kizzie's gaze to hers. “What … what do you mean?”
“The baby ain't gonna stay inside forever, girl. And I reckon you didn't lose your water in the sense you're thinkin’.” She released a long sigh. “It's likely the beginnings of the baby comin’, so there ain't no use pretendin’.”
Kizzie's eyes pinched closed. “I've … I've tried to hide it.”
Another sigh drew Kizzie's attention to Nella. “I had my suspicions a month afore you left …” Her gaze dropped to Kizzie's small round stomach, made all the more prominent by the way the dress curved around her in her sitting position. “You can hide a lot behind an apron, but women know. Though you ain't gained near to nothin’ with this baby, so I can see how you could keep it a secret for a while.” Her gaze flitted to Kizzie's face. “But Mr. Charlie's interest in you ain't been no secret.”
Kizzie's smile wavered into place. “He says he loves me.”
Nella's brows tipped, her expression saying something she didn't voice, but whatever it was stripped Kizzie's smile right off her face.
“And you ain't sure how far along you are?”
Kizzie shook her head. “No, but I've felt the baby movin’ since summer.”
“Summer?” Nella rocked back on her heels, studying Kizzie with more intensity. “When did you have your courses last?”
Kizzie looked away. Nobody talked so openly about such a thing.
“Ain't no use in gettin’ prudish now, Miss Kizzie, not with your baby on the way.” Nella stood. “We need to know how to prepare.”
