back to Quail Hollow. When I start any new book series, I’m not always sure where I’ll end up. During the writing process is when I get most of my best ideas. So when Deputy Becky Spoth strolled onto the page in Plain Jeopardy to protect Grace Miller, I immediately knew I had to tell her story. Becky had left her Amish home to become a sheriff’s deputy in her hometown. It seemed like a tough path to follow, but she does it with grace and God’s guidance. I hope you enjoyed her story.
I think, like Becky, many people choose to follow a path in life that is neither easy nor popular, but they know it is the one God wants them to be on. And when doubt swamps them, they have to learn to rely on their faith to guide them. Even if the path isn’t difficult, some people struggle to know what God calls them to do. During my lifetime, I’ve prayed for guidance as I studied engineering, then became a full-time mom, then took up writing. Oftentimes I wondered if I was making the right decisions. But when I look around, I recognize my blessings and I am grateful. I also continue to pray for guidance.
As always, I truly appreciate my readers. Thank you. Please feel free to drop me a note at [email protected] or Alison Stone, PO Box 333, Buffalo, NY 14051.
Live, Love, Laugh,
Alison
To Mom, with love
Contents
The headlights on Deputy Becky Spoth’s patrol car illuminated the lines on the deserted country road. Some of her fellow deputies complained about the overnight shift, but Becky had grown to like it. There was something calming about patrolling the quiet roads devoid of cars or horses, or more important, people. It gave her a lot of time for quiet reflection while still providing a means to pay the mortgage. She appreciated her job now more than ever when just a few days ago she wondered if she’d ever be out on patrol again.
That was the thing about this job. Things could change on a dime. The radio that had been silent most of her shift suddenly crackled to life as if to prove her point. “Report of a break-in on Robin Nest Road. How far away are you, Deputy Spoth?”
She didn’t have to give the location a moment’s thought. She had grown up in Quail Hollow and knew all the windy roads and farms, even the ones the town didn’t see fit to mark. That was the thing about a small town. Everyone knew everything about everything and everyone.
“I’m a mile out.” Despite a year as a deputy, her stomach bottomed out and her mouth grew dry. Would she ever get used to answering calls, especially alone at night? All the officers in the sheriff’s department traveled solo, but backup was usually only a moment away.
Backup. More than once over the past couple weeks, she wished she hadn’t been the first to arrive to help Deputy Ned Reich subdue a young Amish man, an incident that had turned the sheriff’s department upside down.
Had turned the small town of Quail Hollow, New York, upside down.
Forcing the distracting thoughts out of her mind, Becky weighed the pros and cons of turning on the patrol car’s lights and siren. She didn’t want to give the possible intruder a heads-up that a sheriff’s deputy was on the way, a chance to get away. But she didn’t want to surprise some unsuspecting driver. She stretched across to the control panel. Flick. Lights. No siren.
The engine revved under the weight of her foot on the accelerator. The power of the patrol car never failed to impress her, especially for a woman who didn’t
