Dangerous Amish Showdown

by Mary Alford

  He thought about Donna—Erik’s wife. She’d made Mason promise every time they began a new case to watch out for her husband. Donna knew the risks, especially with this case. But he’d promised, anyway, and he wouldn’t let Donna down.

  Willa touched Erik’s forehead. “At least the fever appears to have broken. That’s something.”

  Mason checked the wound. It was bleeding again. The exertion from earlier had reopened it.

  “Stay with him,” he told Willa. “I’ll get the necessary supplies and be right back.” Mason went to the kitchen and grabbed what he needed then returned to his injured partner.

  With Willa’s assistance, they packed the wound and rebandaged it.

  “That should hold up,” Mason told him.

  “Thank you, brother,” Erik managed, and leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes. Watching his partner look so weak was terrifying.

  “It appears the medicine is working. That is gut news.”

  He held on to what Willa said because he needed something positive and did his best not to show the consuming fear.

  “I will be right back. I’m going to check the front of the house.” He slipped from the room before she could respond. Reaching the living room window, Mason noticed the rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle, but low-hanging clouds isolated the farm from the rest of the world. Without any confirmation they would be rescued, Mason was all out of options. And he bared his heart to God.

  Lord, I don’t know what to do. These are people whose lives are threatened. There is so much darkness surrounding us. But I remember Your light shines the brightest in the darkness. Shine Your light on this situation and show me what to do. I confess, I’ve turned my back on You, but I know You were always there waiting for me. Help me, Lord. Help me save these people.

  Tears choked him up. The prayer left him broken and feeling undeserving of God’s redemption. Mason swallowed several times and turned to find Willa standing beside him.

  “He has everything under His control,” she said softly. “We have to trust Him.”

  Could he have that much faith in light of what was coming?

  He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “One way or another, whether they’re waiting for Ombra or not, it’s only a matter of time before they try to break into the house.”

  She never looked away. “I know. But we have something they don’t. We have Gott.”

  He so wanted to believe her. Because with no means of reaching out to anyone, he and Willa would be forced to fight off a group of men who were determined their story would end here. In this house.

  * * *

  She understood what he didn’t want to tell her. Their chances of surviving the almost certain attack were slim.

  Willa fought not to lose the small amount of hope she still possessed. She couldn’t believe Gott would choose this ending for Samantha or any of them. They had to keep trying.

  Staying busy helped take her mind off what was coming. She’d weathered the loss of Miriam and her daed, as well as Mason’s leaving the community, by not letting her hands remain idle. Willa couldn’t sit around and wait for an attack she felt ill-equipped to survive. “There must be something more we can do.”

  He came over to where she stood and put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll think of something.”

  Willa slipped her arm around his waist and smiled. She’d heard him say those same words many times growing up. Usually when they were about to get into trouble for something they weren’t supposed to do. “You were always trying to fix things. Even when they weren’t fixable.”

  He looked into her eyes and she stopped smiling. “Sometimes things are damaged beyond fixing,” he murmured, and she wondered if he was talking about himself or his faith.

  Willa touched his cheek. “I don’t believe that. There is always a way. Sometimes it may not be clear, but if you look, you’ll find it.”

  He shifted her to face him and clasped her hand in his. “I wish I had your faith.”

  The depth of hurt she saw in him was hard to witness. “You can. Ask Gott to help you.” She hesitated. “Mason, if you are unhappy with your life you can change it. As long as you have breath in here.” She touched his chest. “Change is possible.”

  His laugh held bitterness. “My family. I’ve hurt them and yours. I wasn’t here when my father passed away. Or my grandfather and so many others. And I wasn’t there for my family during those times. All they remember is that angry boy who ran away because he didn’t get what he wanted. Because Miriam chose my brother instead of me.”

  Willa wouldn’t let him continue to believe this. “You are wrong. Your family remembers the bruder and sohn they love. The one they wish to be reunited with.” She looked into his eyes and told him what she believed in her heart. “And I don’t think you left West Kootenai simply because you lost Miriam to Eli.”

  He shifted without saying a word.

  “You left because of Chandler. You were in pain and you didn’t understand how to deal with all that hurt.”

  He hung his head.

  “Chandler’s death wasn’t your fault,” she insisted. “You have to stop blaming yourself.”

  He let her go and stepped back. “It was my fault, Willa,” he muttered. “I was older than Chandler by a year. He looked up to me. I should have protected him. Instead, I got him killed.”

  “You didn’t. You had no way of knowing the ice would be so thin on the lake. All the kinner skated there. Miriam and I had just a few days before the accident.” She clutched his arms. “It was a tragic accident—nothing more.”

  But he didn’t believe her.

  “Oh, Mason.” She tugged him into her arms and held him. “Ask Gott to free you of this guilt. He wouldn’t want you to carry it a day longer. Let Him set you free so you can live your life the way He wants you to.”

  He clutched her tighter and released a heavy sigh that seemed to come from his soul. “I want that. I want to make things right with my family. With God. I’m so tired of carrying this guilt around.”

  She leaned back and smiled up at him. “Then don’t. It’s not yours to carry.”

  He smiled genuinely and kissed her forehead. “You always were such a wise one.” As he continued to look at her, his smile slowly disappeared. “I really missed you,” he whispered.

  Her heart kicked out a strange rhythm. As a young girl, she’d once longed for him to look at her like this. She had been in love with Mason Shetler since she was old enough to understand what love meant—even through that brief time when he imagined himself in love with Miriam.

  But her love would never be. As much as it broke her heart, if they survived this nightmare, her future would not be with Mason. Even if he chose to return to West Kootenai and the Amish way. Mason deserved to be with someone who could give him children. A future. Years of happiness together. But the life Mason so longed for would not come from her. How could she open her heart to him when the future waiting for her was almost certainly filled with darkness and death?

  NINE

  The quiet at the back of the house was the most disturbing. Mason’s nerves were on edge. An eerie calm settled around them and all he could think about was the nightmare of danger coming their way.

  Willa brought over a cup of coffee and handed it to him. “Anything?”

  He shook his head and accepted the coffee. “Nothing. I don’t even see the men anymore. How’s Erik?”

  “He’s resting, but the wound is getting worse and his fever has returned. I gave him some antibiotics that I had.” She held his gaze and shrugged.

  The knot in his stomach tightened at what she wasn’t saying. Mason surveyed the space behind the house from the window.

  He rubbed his tired eyes and sipped the strong coffee, hoping it would clear away the exhaustion enough to keep him aler
t.

  “Do you think Peppermint made it to Ethan’s ranch?” Willa’s full attention stayed on his face.

  Chances are the horse would have kept on the path she had started down, which would lead her to the ranch in question, but it wasn’t a given. “I’d say it’s a good possibility.” He kept his misgivings to himself because he didn’t want her to lose hope.

  He squeezed her arm. “I’m going to check in on Samantha and your mom. Should we bring Beth some of this delicious coffee?”

  Willa’s smile didn’t diminish the worry on her face. “I’ll get her some. You go ahead.” She started for the kitchen. Even with only a couple of steps separating them, her soft footsteps were drowned out by the sudden noise of a dozen or more weapons being fired at the front of the house. Shots ripped through the windowpanes and sent shards of glass and bullets flying all around.

  “Get down!” Mason yelled, and dropped the coffee cup as he hit the floor at the same time additional shots sprayed across the back.

  Scrambling across the floor, he reached Willa and pulled her inside Beth’s room. “We need to get everyone on the ground.” Golden Boy barked several times as Mason crawled over to his partner and lowered him to the floor while Willa grabbed Samantha and held her close.

  “Sit, Golden Boy,” Willa told the dog.

  Mason kept as low as possible and moved to Beth’s side. “I’m going to get you down to the floor. It will be safer there.”

  The shooting abruptly stopped. An unnerving silence followed.

  He quickly gathered Beth, along with her quilt, in his arms and placed her on the floor beside Willa.

  The brief reprieve was broken by more gunshots. Samantha covered her ears and buried her face against Willa.

  “As soon as we get another break, we’ll move all of you down to the cellar,” Mason told them. “It’s the safest room. There aren’t any windows, and if we cover up the entrance, Bartelli’s people won’t know the room is there.”

  Willa didn’t take her eyes off him. She would understand if that happened, the chances of the two of them surviving were slim.

  Willa held Samantha close. “We are oke, kinna. We are all oke.”

  Mason moved to Willa’s side and stroked the child’s hair. “I know it’s scary, Samantha, but you are doing great.”

  The little girl rubbed her hand over her face and turned teary eyes his way. “Why do they want to hurt us, Mr. Mason? Why did Uncle Lucian hurt my daddy and mommy?”

  How did he explain the darkness that existed in the world to this guiltless child? “He’s a bad man, kiddo.” His jaw tightened when he thought about what Samantha had gone through. To protect Samantha, he’d fight to the death every last one of the men Bartelli sent their way.

  She slowly nodded. “Promise you won’t let him hurt me. Promise you and Mr. Erik won’t die.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I promise.” The weight of his promise settled over him as he moved to the door. Several sporadic shots sounded in both directions.

  “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out into the hall. The living room looked like someone had set off a bomb inside it. The back of the house had taken less damage.

  Mason slipped past the damaged living room to the kitchen. He quickly moved the rug and opened the trapdoor.

  Before he headed back to the others, he had to get something off his chest. He wanted to have his faith restored, and yet nothing about what was happening to them brought it back. In fact, he felt tested beyond what he could endure.

  “Lord, if You want me to believe in You again, trust You, then You’d better help me save them. I may not be deserving of saving, but they didn’t ask for any of this.” The words slipped out. He collected himself and rubbed a hand across the tears in his eyes. “Please—save them.”

  Silence was his only answer. He waited a minute longer, not sure really what he expected to happen. Maybe some Godly wisdom that would save the day?

  He shook his head. If they were going to be saved, it was up to him to figure out how.

  Mason returned to Beth’s room. “It’s quiet. Maybe they’re reloading or maybe...” He caught himself before he said preparing to storm the house. “Anyway, this is our chance to get everyone into the cellar.” He drew in air and went over to his partner. “Are you ready?”

  Erik looked up at him, eyes filled with exhaustion that went much deeper than physical, yet he never wavered, as he hadn’t since they’d first become partners. “I’m ready.”

  Assisting him to his feet, Mason kept a tight hold as they slowly headed for the door. “Bring Samantha,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Beth, I’ll be right back for you.”

  Beth possessed a bravery that couldn’t be faked. “Go. Take care of your friend.”

  “I will, but I’m coming back for you,” he insisted, and he would. No matter what.

  Reaching the door proved excruciatingly slow. Erik could barely keep his feet under him; the full weight of his lanky frame almost took Mason down.

  He slowly opened the door and stepped out into the hall. The quiet around them was far from comforting. Mason glanced behind him to assure Willa had followed. She held Samantha in her arms while the dog kept at her side.

  Golden Boy trotted down the stairs ahead of them.

  “Take Samantha down first,” he told Willa. “I’ll need your support with Erik.”

  She sat Samantha on her feet and grabbed the lantern from the table. “Stay close to me.” Willa headed down the steps with the little girl clutching her arm.

  Once they reached the cellar, Willa said, “I’m going to help Mr. Mason. Stay here with Golden Boy.”

  Mason didn’t hear the child’s answer, but a few seconds later Willa stood beside him.

  “I’ll go first. Erik, can you hold on to me?”

  Erik murmured something unintelligible but grabbed hold of Mason’s shoulder.

  “Willa, do what you can to help him stay upright.” She answered with a nod.

  It took both of them to get Erik down to the cellar. A single chair and a cot were the only furniture in the place. He lowered his partner onto the cot. The room had to be ten degrees colder than the top floor.

  “I’ll get some quilts,” Willa said as she disappeared up the stairs. She came back with an armful of quilts and a pillow. Carefully, she placed the pillow under Erik’s head while Mason covered his shivering friend with a quilt.

  “I’m going back for Beth.” Erik didn’t respond. His condition had deteriorated quickly and there was nothing Mason could do to save Erik but make him as comfortable as possible.

  “I’ll come with you.” Willa knelt in front of Samantha. “Can you take care of Erik and Golden Boy while Mason and I bring down my mother?”

  “No,” the little girl sobbed and clung to her hand.

  Willa knelt beside her. “How about we play a game. Can you count to one hundred?”

  Samantha’s frightened eyes held hers. “Y-yes.”

  Willa smiled. “Gut. Count slowly to one hundred for me. Mr. Mason and I will be back before you finish.”

  The dog moved to Samantha’s side as if understanding the child needed comfort. The little girl wrapped her arms around Golden Boy’s neck and started counting. “One. Two.”

  Willa squeezed the child’s shoulder. “You are doing great.” She rose and followed Mason.

  Upstairs, he moved to the shattered window. Keeping out of sight, he looked out between the billowing curtains. What he saw didn’t make sense. “It’s as if they’ve fallen back for some reason.” Not for a moment did he believe Bartelli’s men had simply left. He had a bad feeling they wouldn’t have the luxury of this peace for long. Mason stepped into Beth’s room with Willa.

  “I don’t hear anything. What’s happening?” Beth’s worried gaze grabbed hold of him.

  “They’re preparing for
something. Let’s get you to the cellar before they make their move.” Mason moved to the bed. “Beth, I’m going to be as gentle as possible.”

  “Do what you have to do.” The Beth-like comment had him smiling. He carefully put his arm around her and tried not to react to how fragile she felt, as if her earthly shell were wasting away around her.

  They neared the cellar entrance. Mason heard Samantha’s soft voice counting. “Forty-one, forty-two.”

  He slowly descended the steps and deposited Beth onto the chair. “Are you comfortable enough there?” He thought about gathering some blankets from the bed and bringing them down for her to lay on.

  “This will suit me fine. And I’m close to Erik and this darling kinna.”

  “Here, Mamm.” Willa spread one of the quilts over her mother’s lap. “Warm enough?”

  “Jah, I am gut.” She dismissed Willa’s concern and looked up at Mason. “What will you do next?”

  He had no idea, but if he didn’t come up with something soon, it would mean certain death for all of them. “I’ll try the phone again. You never know. The weather has lifted some.” Mason handed Erik his service weapon. “Just in case.” Erik of all people would understand.

  Willa brought down another quilt for Samantha and wrapped it around the little girl’s shoulders. “To keep you warm.”

  Mason hesitated before returning upstairs. He didn’t like the way Erik held his side. So far there wasn’t any fresh blood on his shirt—a good sign the wound had stopped bleeding. Still, he couldn’t help but worry.

  He knelt beside Erik and checked the bandage, happy to see a dry covering. “It’s looking better,” he assured his friend. “Hang on, brother. Just hang on.”

  Erik grabbed his arm then smiled, and some of Mason’s uneasiness disappeared.

  Willa left the lantern beside her mother and climbed the stairs after him.