by Lenora Worth
“I don’t know how to deal with having an Englisch woman in my home,” he admitted on a low voice. “She’s hurt and without transportation.”
Isaac watched him carefully. “Do what you can for her and tomorrow, you can give Samantha a ride to a doctor. Or we can send Jeremiah and the paramedics up to check on her.”
“I think she’s fine. Her wounds are not serious, but she did take a good bump on her head. I’ll check on her again when we get back.”
“Might be smart to be aware,” Isaac replied, glancing ahead. “A lot of people out and about with this storm. We spotted these Kemp boys earlier riding their horses and shouting like hooligans. Didn’t bother to stop and help anyone. Have to keep an eye on ’em.”
The boys kept asking Jeremiah and the others all about the tornado, then went on to explain how they’d seen a truck flying off the road. The same truck that had been chasing Samantha?
Micah got a weird feeling in his stomach. He needed to get back to his house. How could he be sure his family was safe?
Jeremiah and Isaac were already tugging on the ruined open buggy while the other two volunteers checked the axle. The axle was bent and one of the tire rims lay twisted in an awkward angle. Micah glanced back at the road and then back to Isaac.
“We can move it to the road,” Jeremiah offered, his strong arms showing he could probably move anything.
All the men found a place to hold on to and with a grunt, Jeremiah gave the nod. They lifted the heavy buggy and slowly trudged through the wet field.
Finally, out of breath, Isaac said, “Stop. Leave it here.”
They were not far from the road. Micah’s fears were growing as the darkness settled over them.
“I’ll get some people together first thing tomorrow,” Isaac said. “It’s too damaged and it’s getting dark.” Glancing around, he shook his head. “I worry about looters and curious Englisch.”
Micah nodded. “It might be best to leave the buggy for now. I need to check on Emmie and Jed. Rebecca has been with them a while.”
They all walked back to the road and Jeremiah and the others got in the fire truck. The boys got on their horses and took off.
Micah waved to Jeremiah. “Could you give us a ride back to my place?”
“For sure,” Jeremiah said. “Hop on the back.”
Isaac thanked them with a shout and turned back to Micah after they grabbed hold on the back fender and hopped up to grab onto the rig. “Are you concerned about your visitor?”
Isaac could always read people. Probably why he was now one of the district ministers.
“Well, she did show up during a storm and she is Englisch,” Micah replied. “I haven’t decided if I trust her or not.”
“You were hiding her, ain’t so?”
He wouldn’t lie to Isaac. The man had been the first person to show up when Micah had learned of his parents’ deaths.
“Ja.”
Isaac watched the rig lights dancing in front of the grinding truck. “Were you concerned about improprieties or something more?”
“Both,” Micah admitted.
As they approached the end of the gravel drive up to Micah’s house, they both hopped down and waved thanks to Jeremiah and the others. The big fire truck pulled away.
Isaac asked, “What something more?”
Micah was about to tell him when they heard a scream, followed by Patch’s frantic barks, coming from the house. Micah took off at a run and heard Isaac’s footsteps doing the same behind him.
His instincts had been correct. A hulking shadow moved along the side porch of his house.
* * *
Footsteps dragged with a heavy beat across the porch.
The minute Samantha had heard Jed’s alert, she’d motioned to Rebecca. “We need to lock all the doors.”
Rebecca had given her a puzzled glimpse and started to the back, but stopped to pick up the glass water pitcher on the table next to the bed. “Just in case,” she’d whispered. “This will make a gut weapon.”
Samantha had managed to move with her despite her dizziness. “I’ll go to the front. Meet me back in the hallway.” She motioned to the children. “Is the mudroom door locked?”
Jed had nodded. “I locked it when I first saw the man coming from the field. He was headed toward the house.”
Samantha’s apprehension had now doubled as adrenaline rushed through her system. Whoever was out there had probably searched her car. Micah had put her purse and laptop and a few clothes in the armoire in the bedroom. Her phone was there, too. She’d turned off notifications and the location app. Had that been enough? What if he’d come to take her laptop? She had important evidence hidden in her private files. Photos she’d managed to snap before they’d spotted her. She couldn’t let whoever that was inside this house.
“Come with me,” Rebecca said to the children. “Jed, go with Samantha to secure the front of the house. Emmie and I will check the back.”
“We need a plan,” Jed said in a voice that sounded firm. He didn’t move.
“If he comes in the back, we run out the front,” Samantha said to the children. “Understand?”
“Or if he comes in the front, we head out back,” Rebecca added, motioning him to follow. “If all else fails, we try to hide and stay calm until the men return.”
Satisfied, Jed went with Samantha, a shaking Patch in his arms. “Will Patch protect us?” he asked.
Samantha hoped the little dog wouldn’t bark. She couldn’t stop him if he did. “He’d fight to protect us, ja?”
“We heard someone on the porch,” Rebecca said, terror in her voice as she rushed to the front with Emmie. “Must be a looter. Why would anyone be so mean?”
“I’m glad we thought to lock all the doors,” Emmie replied in a whisper. “I want Micah to come home.”
Jed put his arm around her. “It will be all right.”
Touched by that gesture, Samantha held her breath as they all huddled near the front door. This was all her fault. She needed to keep moving. As soon as Micah returned, she’d ask him to take her somewhere. Maybe to the authorities, if she could trust them. The man she’d left had connections.
She would not put anyone here in danger. She should have known better than to come here in the first place. She’d lived here with her grandmother when she was very young. Her mother had remarried and got her life back together and they’d moved away. Samantha had felt safe with Gramma.
Now she didn’t feel safe anywhere.
Coming back to the present, she kept Patch close since the little ball of fur sensed something was wrong. The poor fellow had been frightened of the storm and all of this confusion.
Listening as someone tried to open the back door, they all huddled against the corner by the front door. Samantha tried to calm herself by studying the layout of the house. A big living area and kitchen, braided rugs covering linoleum floors. A long central hallway that gave them a full view of the back door. The mudroom back there served as a bathroom, too. It must be near the room she’d been in. A staircase off the living room that apparently led to more bedrooms upstairs.
Should they take the stairs and hide there? Or would that force them into a corner? Maybe they could sneak out to the roof. Then what?
A hard hit on the wooden door down the hallway made the whole house shake.
“He’s coming,” Emmie said, shuddering against Samantha’s arm around her. “He must be on the side porch. We could hide in the root cellar.”
Patch did a low growl, then started barking—an aggressive, protective bark that warned Samantha of someone dangerous. Someone the little dog recognized. Patch’s nose lifted as he sniffed the air.
Did he smell the danger?
“We could go down in the cellar,” she said. “Is there a way out of there?”
Jed shook hi
s head and listened at the front window. “I think someone is coming this way, too. I see figures out near the road. The cellar might be the only place to hide.”
“Not another one,” Rebecca said, her voice shaky, but her expression stern. “I will use this glass pitcher on his head.”
“We aren’t to be violent,” Emmie warned.
“We have to protect family,” Jed replied, scooting to where a knitting basket sat. He lifted out a long needle. “I’ll stab him with this.”
Emmie didn’t argue with that. “Patch can bite him.”
Samantha prayed a fast, scattered prayer, remembering how Gramma had said when you’re in a hurry, pray, Help me, Lord. She didn’t want these innocent children and sweet, kind Rebecca to be in any danger.
Straightening a bit, she said, “You three take Patch and go into the cellar. I can go out there and talk to the man. He’s probably looking for me.”
Rebecca gave her a measured stare but didn’t question why she would say that. “You will do no such thing,” she said. “You are a guest in Micah’s house so we will make sure you are safe. Somehow.” She looked directly at Samantha. “I don’t think the cellar is a good idea.”
The door rattled again. Patch’s barks became loud and choppy, angry with a pent-up rage. Her little protector was a fierce survivor. Well, so was she.
“We’ll do what we planned,” Samantha said, motioning for them to stand. “Let’s run out front. I’ll scream as loudly as I can. People are out everywhere because of the storm. Surely someone will hear us if we all shout and scream.”
“Ja, and that bad man will run away,” Jed said with a solemn surety. “Patch will scare him.”
The noise at the back door increased. Thankful that the Amish built strong houses, Samantha stood and guided the children between herself and Rebecca. Handing Patch to Jed, she said, “Hold on to him. Don’t let him go unless you have no other choice.”
Jed nodded, his dark eyes so like his brother’s and his hair a curly mess, same as Micah’s. “Emmie will help.”
Emmie nodded, her eyes wide with trepidation.
“Okay, if anything goes wrong,” Samantha said, “head toward the road and take Patch with you.”
Rebecca inclined her chin in agreement and with a show of support. “You hear? You run to the road and find help.”
Samantha hoped she’d made the right decision. If she could get them all away from the house, she’d try to backtrack and distract their intruder.
Somehow.
Slowly, she opened the front door. “Run as fast as you can,” she reminded the children. “Jed, keep your sister close.”
Jed glanced at Emmie. “I will. Emmie, you can run as fast as me, remember. So we’ll race to the road.”
“I can do that,” Emmie replied, taking up the challenge.
Rebecca didn’t look so sure. “Keep going,” she said to Samantha under her breath. “I don’t want to slow anyone down with my bad knee. One reason I didn’t want to go in the cellar. You three could.”
“I’ll give you a head start,” Samantha told her. “I’ll follow so we can stick together.”
Rebecca nodded and looked back. “Don’t wait too long.”
Samantha held to the front door, her head swirling. Taking a deep breath, she watched as Rebecca raced toward the twins.
The man at the other door pushed harder. She heard the thump of what could only be a silenced bullet. He’d shot out the lock.
“Keep going,” she called, fear making her heart rate bump too high. “I’m right behind.”
Samantha saw the twins and Rebecca hurrying away. Rebecca glanced back once. Then the back door burst open and Samantha turned and came face-to-face with a man she recognized as one of Leon’s security guards.
She froze, shock and dread clawing at her while she stood in the open doorway to the front. Maybe she could stall him long enough for the others to get away. “What do you want?”
The man advanced, his beefy fingers twitching as he aimed the gun. “He wants you to come home. You have to come with me.”
Samantha had no way out. She heard voices shouting in the front yard. “Jed? Emmie?”
“Micah,” Emmie said, her voice carrying through the night. “It’s Micah and Isaac.”
Samantha heard Rebecca screaming, “Run, run to them.”
Relief washed through Samantha. Seeing the doubt on the big man’s face, she said, “You need to leave before they find you.”
The man advanced, waving the gun. “I have to bring you back.”
Samantha screamed with all of her might, startling the man. Without thinking it through, she whirled around through the open front door and tried to run, still screaming.
The man came after her, grabbing one of her feet and knocking her down. Her tennis shoe fell away as she clawed the wood to get up. Her breath stopped and she gasped until she could breathe again.
She expected a bullet in her back. Instead he grabbed at her. “He wants you alive, so don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not going!” she shouted while she tried to see who else was out there.
Two men hurried toward the house.
Two Amish men.
FIVE
Micah looked beyond the twins and Rebecca when he heard the screams. “Where’s Samantha?”
“She was supposed to kumm behind me,” Rebecca said on a shaky voice. “A man was trying to get into the house.”
“Are you all right?” Micah asked the twins as he started moving toward the house.
“They’re fine. Go,” Rebecca said, the words a shout.
Micah saw the pitchfork he’d used earlier to rake up debris. Grabbing it, he ran toward the house and shouted, “Stop. Let her go.” He held the pitchfork like a weapon. “I have a good aim,” he said, raising the pitchfork as he prepared to throw it at the man.
The man tugging Samantha stopped in his tracks and pushed her away, then turned and ran out the open back door.
Micah rushed up the steps, thinking they could have all been killed.
After dropping the pitchfork, he lifted Samantha off the floor and held her by her arms. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, her face pale in the scant light. “He sent someone to take me. They want me alive, Micah. He’s trying to get me to come back there.”
Confusion warred with shock in Micah’s brain. Taking her hand, he turned toward Rebecca and Isaac. “She’s okay. Everyone accounted for?”
“We’re all fine,” Rebecca said as she stood with her husband. “Samantha, you did a brave thing standing between that intruder and the kinder. Are you all right?”
Samantha nodded. “Just a bit shaken.”
Micah turned from the twins to face Samantha. “Did you recognize him?”
“I think I remember him,” she admitted, her voice raspy and low. Giving the twins a quick glance, she said, “I’ll explain later.”
“He had a gun, Micah,” Emmie offered as she ran up, her eyes startled with fear. “I saw him. A big Englisch man.”
“I’m going to check on the barn,” Micah said, frustration coloring his words while he stared at Samantha.
“Be careful,” she warned, giving Micah what she hoped was a meaningful glance. “He might still be around.”
“I’ll come,” Jed offered, hurrying toward the back door.
“Neh.” Micah held up a hand. “You and your sister need to eat and go to bed. It’s been a trying day.”
Looking disappointed, Jed shrugged and hung his head.
Emmie asked, “Can Patch stay in my room?”
Micah glanced at Samantha. “I don’t think that would be wise.”
Rebecca stepped up. “I’ll get them fed and settled, Micah. Maybe Patch can bring Emmie some comfort?”
Samantha cleared her throat. “I don�
��t mind if it’s okay with Micah.”
“The dog has to sleep on the floor,” he said, his gaze moving over Samantha again. What had she brought into his home? What kind of evil was chasing her?
“I’ll make him a bed,” Emmie replied as she ran upstairs. “C’mon, Patch. You can see my room.”
Patch woofed an eager response.
Isaac remained silent as the men started toward the back door. Micah stopped to examine the wood, a frown marring his face. He gave Samantha one last glance, then hurried down the steps and out into the yard.
He’d talk to her later and he’d get the truth. This had gone from surviving a storm to trying to keep his family—and a stranger—safe from harm.
* * *
Samantha moved to the kitchen, forgetting she still wore the dirty clothes from before. Now she wished for a warm shower and her sweatpants. She washed her hands and helped Rebecca finish the sandwiches she’d started earlier.
She’d never felt so weary. First, discovering Patch a couple of days ago and then, sneaking back in the dead of night to investigate, only to see a horror happening right before her eyes. She’d been spotted by one of Leon’s minions.
And now, being here in a stranger’s home. A kind stranger who was concerned about his family, with friends who were now involved in her problems.
What if something happened to Micah and Isaac?
“I should go and check on them,” she said, whirling so fast her dizziness returned.
Rebecca took her hand. “Neh. The men know what they’re doing. They will be careful.”
“I can’t take it if something happens to any of you,” Samantha replied.
“We live by God’s will, Samantha,” Rebecca said, her eyes kind and full of understanding. “Whatever happened to you, we won’t turn away. Stay here. Don’t make it worse.”
Samantha went back to the task at hand, her head throbbing with fear and guilt. Here, the memories of her grandmother telling Samantha how much she loved her seemed to rise up with the enticing scent of freshly baked bread mixed with the smell of wax candles, kerosene lamps and goat milk lotion.
