A Simple Hope: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel by Rosalind Lauer Page A

hitchhiking is safe,” Shandell said.
    “They’re right, and I want you to stay safe. But, Shandell, I can’t drop everything to come and get you. And you shouldn’t expect that.”
    Shandell bit her lower lip, swallowing back the knot of emotion in her throat.
    “You are eighteen. It’s time to grow up. I feel terrible about this, and you know I’m worried about you but … you need to find somewhere safe to stay until I can drive up on Thursday. Maybe a campground or something.”
    “Okay. I’ll figure out something.” Shandell could not miss the raw emotion in her mother’s voice as they said good-bye.
    “How’d it go?” Mel asked, cocking her head to one side. “Is she coming to get you?”
    “She’s on her way,” Shandell said brightly, keeping the happy mask on her face.
    “That’s good.” The police dispatcher looked out the precinct window toward Main Street. “You want to get some pizza while you’re waiting? My treat.”
    “No, thanks. I’m not really hungry.” That part was true.
    “Did you tell Mom to pick you up here? You can hang out there in the waiting area. We’re about the only thing in Halfway that’s open all night, except for the 7-Eleven on the other side of town.”
    Shandell hesitated. Where was she going to go? Halfway was too small for a bus station or a public place where she could spend the night, and she knew these people wouldn’t like the idea of a homeless girl roaming their streets for the next few days. “You know, maybe I will wait for her here.” Shandell didn’t mean it, but it would be a warm place to stay until she could come up with another plan.
    She settled into a comfortable chair and checked her backpack to make sure her cherished book was there. She would have liked to take it out and skim over the familiar Bible stories with their colorful illustrations, but it would be too embarrassing for anyone to see her reading a children’s book. Mel came to the rescue with a stack of magazines, a warm blanket, and a hot cup of tea. “If your mom’s coming from Baltimore, you got a few hours. Try to get some sleep.”
    She did. The comfort and safety of the waiting room allowed Shandell to doze off, stretched out on the vinyl-cushioned couch.
    When she woke up, the clock on the wall was swinging toward four o’clock. It was still dark out, but Shandell felt a little better. Mom always said that things would feel better in the morning. Well, it would be morning in a few hours.
    Mel was gone, and the deputy was talking on the phone with the dispatcher’s headset on. She figured that Mel was probably on break. It was a good time to leave. She appreciated the woman’s kindness, but Shandell knew that Halfway’s police department wouldn’t let her camp here for the week. She had to leave—
before
Mel realized that Shandell had been lying to her.
    She left the folded blanket and the stack of magazines on thecounter. The deputy glanced up and she gave him a friendly wave, then headed out the door.
    Her backpack didn’t seem so heavy anymore, but now loneliness was a dull ache that made her feel hollow inside. So cold and empty. Her life was in ruins, like the bag of scraps in Elsie’s shop. But while Elsie could finish patches and sew them into a beautiful quilt, Shandell was clueless when it came to piecing her life together.
    Feeling like the last person awake in the world, she plodded down the road in search of open land.

    The old one-room shack was rustic, and super isolated. Shandell had turned down a farm lane and walked for at least a mile, following as it passed a dark farmhouse and narrowed into more of a footpath. Her plan had been to zip into her sleeping bag under the cover of some trees or bushes, but when she came upon the old deserted outbuilding, she began to think that maybe God hadn’t forgotten her, after all.
    There was no electricity that she could find, but there were plenty of matches and a big black woodstove with a stack of