Orchard of Hope Read Online Free Page A

loud, but she thought the same might be said about Myra’s son, Noah Hearndon.

4
    Jocie pointed out the newspaper office when they got to Main Street.
    “People are looking,” Noah said as he stopped the bike in an open parking space in front of the office.
    “Just because they don’t know who you are. We expect to know everybody we see in Hollyhill.” Jocie climbed off the bike and stepped down gingerly on her ankle. It still hurt.
    “Yeah. I’m sure that’s it and that it doesn’t have a thing to do with me being a little dark around the edges and you being so lily white.”
    “We have black people in Hollyhill.”
    “You ever ridden on the backs of any of their bikes?”
    “Not yet. They know me well enough to stay out of my way when they see me coming on my bike.”
    “Smart guys,” Noah said, smiling again.
    Jocie stood on the sidewalk and looked at Noah. “You never did tell me why you were coming to town.”
    “You’re sort of nosey, aren’t you?”
    “Maybe.” Jocie didn’t let what he said bother her. “I guess it comes from helping my dad get stories for the paper.”
    “I know. And being a preacher’s kid.”
    “That too.” Jocie waited for him to say why he was in Hollyhill, but he just balanced himself with one foot on the road and one on his bike pedal and looked at her without saying a word.
    She eyed him, then gave a shrug. “Okay, don’t tell me. The Banner just came out yesterday anyway, and your story, whatever it is, would be such old news by next week’s issue that nobody would care.” She nodded toward the door. “But come on inside and meet my dad. And you can clean up the scrape on your head. If you were looking for a job or something, you wouldn’t want to show up bleeding.”
    “What makes you think I need a job?” Noah asked, but he got off his bike, sat it up on the sidewalk, and kicked down the stand.
    “You’re almost sixteen and you want to drive a car instead of ride a bike,” Jocie said.
    “Deductive thinking. You must be a regular female Sherlock Holmes.”
    “That’s me. Come on and I’ll get you a Band-Aid and a copy of this week’s Banner . I don’t remember any help-wanted ads, but there might have been one or Dad might know somebody that needs help. Of course, there are always farmers working in hay and stuff.”
    “I’ve already got a line on something like that. The guy who sold us the farm said he might need some help with fencing and painting his barn roof in a week or two.”
    “Who was that?”
    “Harvey McMurtry. You know him?”
    “Sure. Mr. Harvey goes to my dad’s church.”
    “Small world, isn’t it?” Noah said and then looked up and down Main Street before making a face. “Real small.”
    Jocie stepped into the newspaper office and set the bell over the door to jingling. Zella looked up from her typewriter. “Where in the world have you been, Jocelyn? Your father’s been calling everywhere to try to find you.” Her eyes narrowed as she took a closer look at Jocie. “Good heavens, Jocelyn. Don’t you own a comb or a washcloth? You look like you’ve been wrestling pigs or something.”
    “No pigs, just a bike wreck. I ran into a newcomer to Hollyhill. Literally,” Jocie said and stepped aside so Zella could see Noah. “This is Noah Hearndon. Zella Curtsinger, Noah.”
    Zella’s eyes popped open wide when she saw Noah. Zella had been working at the Banner ever since Jocie could remember, probably ever since her father could remember too. As long as Jocie had known her, she’d looked exactly the same—with the same dark-rimmed glasses, the same tightly curled black hair, the same red lipstick that she sometimes had to wipe off her teeth with the pink tissues she kept at hand on her desk, and the same twist to her mouth as if she’d been eating green persimmons whenever she looked at Jocie.
    Jocie just had a way of getting under Zella’s skin even when she didn’t try, and most of the time she tried. Zella was