Chapter 1
April
There was no doubt about it. Her expensive, beautiful, metallic-blue electric bike was something of a mistake. Daisy had known that from practically the moment that she’d taken her first test drive in the back parking lot of Jonny Schrock’s bicycle shop.
It wasn’t Jonny’s fault either. He was as laid-back, no-pressure a salesman as one could ever hope to interact with.
Unfortunately, the problem was all hers. She’d gone shopping in a snit because the beautiful, gorgeous, perfect farm that she’d been saving up to buy forever had been snapped up from under her. And by an aging, yet engaging couple who she couldn’t even dislike.
Mervin and Ruthie Miller were excited about farming in their “second season.” They were looking forward to new experiences and fulfilling their dreams.
Daisy was happy for them. She really was. She just wished they’d picked a different parcel of land on which to follow their dreams. That piece was supposed to have been hers. She’d chatted with the owners, Samuel and Rachel Burkholder about it for years.
She’d cut out pictures of improvements she’d wanted to make.
She’d worked at Melissa’s bulk store for years in order to get the down payment.
It was hard to forget about the many, many hours she’d carried around heavy cartons, dealt with Saturday sales, and haggled with customers who didn’t even want to pay the discounted prices Melissa charged.
She’d had to do all of that for forty hours a week.
Plus, Melissa wasn’t even nice.
To make matters worse, she’d been so close to being able to buy the Burkholders’ property. Well, Daisy had been just two years away—if she didn’t up and quit working for Melissa like she privately threatened to do every month—when suddenly her goal was gone. Out of her grasp.
Like a really pleasant, swoony dream when she was a princess and a really handsome guy was her prince because he had a secret herd of fancy sheep. Yeah. It was like she’d been having a dream that was so good. So good! Until she woke up.
Samuel Burkholder hadn’t even seemed all that guilty when she cornered him, either. He pretended he didn’t remember his promises to her. And then, when that didn’t work, he pretended he couldn’t hear her protesting.
When all that happened—and yes, it was a lot—she’d walked down to Landon Bike Shop. She’d decided that the only reason she was still working for Melissa was because she could walk to work. But if she had a bike, she could work somewhere else and learn to be happy there.
Once inside, she test drove three models, and then bought the best one. For cash. Handsome Jonny Schrock was so pleased with the sale he’d thrown in a free bike helmet.
It was simply too bad that she was now experiencing buyer’s remorse. Big-time.
It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the Aventon Aventure 3 step-through e-bike. It rode like a dream and the nifty solar-powered converter that Jonny sold her worked like a charm. She could ride anywhere she wanted with ease.
It was just that she couldn’t seem to get the hang of the thing.
And, perhaps, that she had a terrible habit of gazing at pastures instead of the road while she rode. Which was why cars often honked at her and more than one person had forced her to listen to their well-intentioned advice.
It was also why just two minutes ago she’d been riding along, spied a pair of newborn lambs, braked too hard, and lost control of her new bicycle. She went flying into the fence, and her bicycle went sliding into the ditch.
“Oh my word! Are you okay?”
She blinked. Tried to discover the identity of the speaker, but everything was fuzzy.
“Huh?”
The speaker knelt beside her. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he said softly. “You’re not alone. Can you move?”
At last, Daisy focused. The speaker was a man. A blond, tan, gorgeous, prince-like man. He was Amish, had a smooth, caring voice and a slight Southern accent.
Though that didn’t make sense. Usually her dream-prince had dark hair and was riding a horse. Was she not dreaming after all?
“Mmmm,” she said.
His brown eyes widened just before he stood up and yelled something to a car that had just stopped.
“Jah. We need an ambulance. She fell. I don’t know. I just saw her go down and came running over. My name? Kyle. Kyle Hostetler. What? Oh. Okay. Yes. That makes sense. Thanks.”
Kneeling back down beside her, he said, “That was an Englischer. He’s on his phone and calling for help. An ambulance should be here shortly.”
An ambulance? Those were expensive. “Nee. Don’t do that.”
“Sorry, but it’s already done. And you’re bleeding. I’m not exactly sure where you’re bleeding from, but I don’t think we’re supposed to worry about that yet.”
Daisy thought she was starting to feel better. “I need to get up. And get my helmet off.”
He touched her hand lightly. “Settle. Sorry, but the 911 operator said to not move.”
“I really need this helmet off. Can you unbuckle it?”
“I could but I won’t. You might have a neck injury.”
“I don’t think I do.”
“Sweetheart, what’s your name? Do you remember your name?”
Sweetheart? That sounded rather prince-like. “I do.” She smiled at him.
“My name is Kyle. What’s yours?”
“Daisy.”
He blinked. Grew concerned. “Yes, you’re right. You landed in a field of wildflowers, and those are daisies …”
This man was an idiot and so was she for ever thinking that he was her dream Prince Charming. “I know I’m lying in a field of flowers. My name is Daisy.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. So please, let me stand up.”
He pressed a hand on her shoulder. As if he was pinning her down in some kind of awful wrestling move. “No. No way do I want to be responsible for you suffering a permanent injury. Don’t move.”
“Kyle, please. I’m mighty uncomfortable.”
“Well, I’d be surprised if you weren’t,” he said. “I saw your accident. One minute you were flying down the road, and the next, your brakes screeched, you ran into that tire tread and then fell down here.”
She would’ve rolled her eyes if her head didn’t hurt so much. “Thanks so much for that recap.”
Indignation, followed by a small grin, filled his expression. “Boy, you’re a live wire, aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure what that means,” she lied.
“Oh. Well—” He took a deep breath.
No way did she want to hear anything more about something she didn’t care about in the first place. “Kyle, if you are thinking that I want an education about phrases right now, you’re mistaken. I do not.”
“I reckon you are right. Sorry about that.” He looked sheepish. “My only explanation is that seeing you like this has shaken me up something awful.”
Daisy just stared at him. Was he expecting an apology?
While she was debating the pros and cons of what to do, he tilted his head to the side. “Ah, here we go.”
“What?”
“Do you hear that?” He beamed. “The sirens are close. Things are going to be better for ya soon.”
Her brain felt fuzzy, but Daisy was pretty sure she heard the sirens, too. Jah, sure. They would make her feel better.
But was her life about to get better?
That was doubtful. None of her dreams were about to come true. None of the things she used to talk about doing, back when she was still in school, had happened.
Remembering Winter Walker, her beautiful, slim, perfect archenemy, made her wince. Growing up, Winter had teased her all the time about being a tomboy. About wanting things that only boys should want.
And because Winter had been the most popular girl in their Amish school, everyone else had sided against Daisy.
She’d put up with so much because she knew she was going to prove everyone wrong one day. She was going to make everyone see that just because she had different dreams, it didn’t mean that they weren’t good ones.
But maybe she’d been wrong.
Because here she was, sitting on the side of the road next to a broken bike. She was hurting something awful. At the moment, there wasn’t a whole lot that she felt good about.
Even though it was weak, Daisy decided this accident was the final piece of a life that suddenly felt like far too much to handle.
The pain, the conversation, the knowledge that Melissa was going to be more concerned about being shorthanded than she was going to be worried about her.
She closed her eyes. Shutting her eyes away from the world.
Until a gentle fingertip brushed a line across her cheek. “Daisy, don’t go to sleep, okay? The EMTs are going to need to check you out.”
“Mmmm, okay,” she murmured.
“Daisy, what’s your last name?”
“Lapp.”
“Do you live nearby?”
“Jah. Ridge Road.”
“Wait, do you live on the Lapp property? Is that your family’s farm?”
“Jah,” she said tiredly. “We’ve been there forever.”
“Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure someone at your house knows what’s going on.”
She was prevented from replying by another man’s voice. “Daisy, Daisy, can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Daisy, my name is Camp,” the voice said as he picked up her wrist. “I’m an EMT and I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
“Okay,” she said for what had to be the tenth or twelfth time. She wasn’t sure. But as Camp started poking, prodding, and calling out numbers to someone nearby, Daisy decided she didn’t much care anymore.
She needed to take a break.