by Mary Alford
Neither spoke for the longest time.
“How are they doing?” he asked, and motioned toward her sleeping sisters.
“They are gut. They’re both strong,” she said softly, then waited.
Pulling in a breath, Sutter came to her side. “I’m leaving the FBI.”
Her eyes widened. Nothing had prepared her for this. “You are? But why?”
Sutter took her hands and held them against his heart. “I figured out this is what has been lacking in my life for a long time. I’ve missed the Amish way of life. I hadn’t realized how much until this case...and you. He looked into her eyes. “I love you, Catherine. And I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you, if you will have me. Will you marry me?” When she couldn’t answer, he said, “I know I have a lot to do. I’ll need some time to tie up all the loose ends.” He stopped, looked into her eyes, waited. Yet she still wasn’t sure this was real and not a dream. Would she wake up in that basement again with no way out?
“Catherine?” He said her name ever so softly, and the nightmare evaporated.
“I love you, too,” she whispered without hesitation. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. After the shock wore off, he kissed her back. She still couldn’t believe he loved her.
Sutter pulled away and held her gaze. “Does that mean you will marry me?” he asked, and she realized she hadn’t answered the question.
She hesitated. “Are you sure? This is a huge decision, Sutter. I’d hate for you to have regrets.”
He leaned down and kissed her gently. “I’m sure. I should never have walked away from the faith. I was hurting and angry with Gott and I let those emotions drive me from the life I loved. This is what I want, Catherine. You are what I want.”
She couldn’t stop smiling. “Jah, I will marry you. As soon as you are baptized and become a member of the church, I will marry you.”
Behind her she heard the sound of clapping. Catherine turned. Both her sisters were hanging on their every word.
She laughed, her heart filled with so much joy. She loved him. And he loved her back. Gott had not only brought her through the worst possible time in her life. He’d blessed her with Sutter’s love.
* * *
The flight had been endless. But he was back in Montana now. For good.
Gott gave him the courage to forgive himself for Thomas’s death. Sutter had officially resigned from the FBI, and then he’d flown home. The reunion with his parents had been an emotional one. His mamm had wept because her sohn had returned. His daed had been stoic, but pleased that Sutter would be coming back to their faith.
Asking Thomas’s forgiveness was the hardest. He’d gone to his bruder’s grave and poured out his heart. In the end, he believed Thomas forgave him.
As happy as his parents were by his return, letting them know he wouldn’t be coming home to Lancaster County wasn’t easy. But it was the right choice for him. Too many memories still lay there waiting to snare him. Though they were disappointed, his mamm and daed were happy to hear about Catherine and his wish to marry her. He’d promised to let them know as soon as the plans could be arranged.
His dream was to one day have his parents come live near him and Catherine, but he’d have a lot of convincing ahead of him to talk Daed into leaving the land he loved.
James kept him updated on news from Harper’s case. So far, there had been more than a dozen deaths laid at his feet. Sutter was positive more would follow. James assured him they had enough evidence to convict him of all the murders. Harper would never see the light of day again. Because of that, Sutter could make peace with what had happened. In time, maybe he’d even learn to forgive.
Catherine’s parents’ home came into view, and the hassle of the delayed flight and the long drive from the airport faded away. He was home.
As he drew near, he noticed her sitting on the porch. He’d written Catherine to tell her when he would arrive. She was there waiting for him.
Sutter stopped the car out front. He couldn’t get the door open fast enough, and seconds later was standing beside her on the porch. The love in her eyes filled his heart.
When she smiled, his world—their future—fell into place, and he couldn’t wait to call her his fraa. Couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life in Saint Ignatius, loving her and the life they would create. Together.
EPILOGUE
Catherine carried the fresh lemonade outside to where the men worked, putting the finishing touches to the dawdi haus Sutter’s parents would be moving into soon. It seemed like only yesterday that Sutter had worked on their home. How time flew by. She and Sutter had been married for more than a year now.
Each day, Sutter, along with Catherine’s daed and many of the men from the community, worked on completing more of the house. With summer quickly fading, the rains had held off enough for them to finish the job before her in-laws arrived, and she was grateful to Gott for the blessing.
Sutter wiped his brow, spotted her and came over, a smile on his face.
Even after so much time had passed, she would still wake up in the middle of the night right back in the basement with a killer. But those ugly memories were slowly fading.
“Fresh lemonade.”
Sutter took the glass she handed him. “You spoil me.” He leaned down and kissed her, then kissed her swollen midsection. Their boppli was due very soon.
“You deserve it.” She clutched his hand and smiled into his eyes. When she’d woken in the basement, Catherine couldn’t imagine ever being this happy.
Thanks to Gott, Abigail and Elizabeth had recovered from their injuries. Elizabeth lived in Saint Ignatius with Lily, and Catherine and the family kept in touch. It was Elizabeth’s wish to return to the faith one day. Catherine prayed it would be possible.
Lily continued to grow more confident with each passing day, talking and laughing like any child would. It never ceased to amaze Catherine how resilient children were.
“What do you think?” Sutter asked, and pointed to the brown shutters they’d added that very day.
Catherine wrapped her arm around his waist. “I love them. Your parents will be so pleased.”
While she admired her husband’s work, the first hint of pain took hold. She grabbed Sutter’s hand. Her husband turned to her, worry in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
When the pain subsided, she managed a smile. She knew exactly what was wrong.
“It’s time, Sutter.”
He didn’t understand. “Time for what?” he asked.
Though scared, she giggled at his perplexed expression. “Time for the baby. She is coming. You should get Mamm now,” she said, when he stared at her, eyes wide.
Sutter turned and headed toward the barn to saddle the horse, then stopped and came back to her. “Wait. She? How do you know we’re having a girl?”
Catherine touched her stomach. Felt the baby move. She couldn’t explain it, she just knew.
“I don’t.” But they were. She smiled up at him, then rose on her tiptoes and kissed him with all the love overflowing her heart.
She was so blessed. Gott had given her back her life and her memories. He’d brought her Sutter, and now a baby girl to complete their happiness. And no amount of evil, not even the kind that Douglas Harper represented, could ever take these precious gifts from her.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, don’t miss Mary Alford’s first Amish romantic suspense book, Amish Country Kidnapping, available from Love Inspired Suspense!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com
Keep reading for an excerpt from Mountain Captive by Sharon Dunn.
Dear Reader,
Even through the darkest moments of our lives, the one constant we can count on is God’s love.
One of the best parts of writing suspe
nse is being able to create good to triumphant over the darkness. I love showing God’s grace and love on the pages of my stories through the eyes of the main characters. In Amish Country Murder, even as FBI Profiler Sutter Brenneman and Catherine Fisher journey though the valley of the shadow of death to face down a serial killer, hope exists. Just as it does in real life. No matter where our journey takes us, God is already there waiting to help us through.
I hope you’ve enjoyed my second Amish Suspense. And I love hearing from readers anytime. You can connect with me by visiting my website, www.maryalford.net, or you can find me on Facebook and Twitter.
Blessings always,
Mary Alford
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Mountain Captive
by Sharon Dunn
ONE
Private Investigator Jude Trainor gripped the steering wheel of his SUV as it hugged the upward side of the narrow mountain road. One small overcorrection and he ran the risk of sailing off the road and down the steep incline. Windshield wipers beat out an intense rhythm, wiping away the increasing snowfall. The radio forecast an unexpected blizzard, the worst Montana had seen in fifty years.
He could just make out the red taillights of the car he’d chased for miles. The car matched the description of the one believed to have been used to kidnap an eight-year-old girl over a week ago from her home in North Dakota. There was no way to match it to the driver because it had been reported as stolen a day before the kidnapping.
Was the girl being held in a remote cabin in these mountains? Jude doubted the suspect would lead him to the girl. What he hoped for was to take the driver into custody and get him to confess. But the driver had not stopped when they were on the highway. Now with only the two of them on this road, he must know he was being tailed. Jude prayed for an opportunity to stop or disable the car.
The car had surfaced around various parts of Montana, but this was the closest Jude had gotten to the suspect.
The road curved and the red taillights disappeared.
Snow cut Jude’s visibility. He let up on the gas until he was moving at a crawl. Wipers cleared his windshield only to have it fill up again with snow. All he saw was white everywhere. The car couldn’t have gotten that far ahead of him. The wind blew with such force, he could barely make out the tracks where the other car had been.
Headlights filled his field of vision. Adrenaline flooded his body. The other car had gotten turned around and was headed straight toward him on the one-lane road. He tensed, ready for a fight for his life.
Jude shifted into Reverse. He drove more by feel and instinct than by what he could see in his mirrors. His car hugged the upward side of the road.
Through the snowfall, all he saw was the glowing orange of the headlights as they loomed ever closer to him. He prayed for some sort of shoulder to pull off on. Bushes scratched the driver’s side window because he was so close to the bank.
Though the other car was moving at a crawl as well, it closed the distance between them.
He checked his mirrors and then craned his neck. The snowfall cleared for a moment, so he had a view of the road. He couldn’t see a safe place to pull over. He pressed the gas even harder, guessing at where the safest route was.
He felt a thud against his front bumper.
He set his jaw and gripped the wheel. No, this could not be happening. He was not going over that incline.
Jude shifted into First. He revved the engine and pushed toward the other car, which was only a few feet away. If this guy wanted to play demolition derby, bring it on.
The other driver backed away a few feet. Jude brushed his hand over the gun in his shoulder holster. For the kidnapped girl, he needed the suspect brought in ready to talk. Even if he injured him to capture him, it meant a delay in finding the child.
An idea struck him. He turned off his headlights and continued to back down the mountain.
The other car backed away, as well. Now he saw the flaw in his plan. The guy would back up until he got to the place where he was able to turn around and then take off. With his lights still off, Jude edged forward. The headlights of the other car faded in and out as an intense wind gusted.
They came to a straight part of the road. The other car barreled toward him at a dangerous speed. He hit Reverse again. His windshield filled with blinding yellow light right before metal crashed against metal. The whole car seemed to be vibrating and creaking. His back end fishtailed. And then he was sliding sideways. His hand gripped the wheel. He pumped the brake. The car slipped off the edge of the road. He felt weightless as the seat belt dug into his chest and the car rolled twice before coming to a stop right side up.
The crash had taken the wind out of him. Still numb, he unclicked his seat belt. His door was too bent to open. Though he was in pain, he didn’t think he’d broken anything.
He pulled his phone out. No signal.
Jude dragged himself toward the passenger side door. He clicked the handle and pushed it open. A gust of snow chilled his face as he crawled out.
He heard the zing of the rifle shot before he heard it hit the metal of his wrecked vehicle. His heart pounded. He could just make out the silhouette of the possible kidnapper standing in the headlights of his car, aiming a rifle down the mountain at him.
Adrenaline surged through Jude’s body as he crawled around to the front of his car for cover. His bright colored ski jacket would be easy to spot even in the storm.
The freezing cold enveloped him. He’d kept his winter coat on, but he had no hat or gloves. He wrestled with the thought that he might die out here. That his life would come to nothing. And that the little girl would not be brought home safe. That bothered him more than the reality of his own death.
Another shot rang through the air. Glass shattered.
The possibility of bringing that little girl home safe to her parents had felt like a shot at redemption to him. He wasn’t a private investigator by choice. At the age of twenty-one, ten years ago, he’d washed up as a rookie officer when a domestic call he’d been sent on had ended in the murder-suicide of husband and wife. Their ten-year-old daughter had witnessed the crime. The last he’d heard she was under a psychiatrist’s care. Her life would never be the same. The guilt weighed on him every day.
If only Jude had said the right words as he’d talked to the husband through the open window. If only he’d chosen a different tactic. If only...
Jude peered around the side of his car. The man with the rifle was nothing more than a dark spot, but he was still there waiting to take another shot at Jude.
The cold seeped into his muscles as he wondered if he had the strength to make a run for it into the unknown down the mountain. The winding road was the one he’d just come up in his pursuit. Maybe there was somebody down there, a hunter perhaps. For the first time in ten years, he said a quick and desperate prayer.
Lord, send help or show me a way out of this.
* * *
Wildlife biologist Lacey Conrad put the binoculars up to her eyes and scanned the winter landscape until her view landed on a ridge where she expected to see elk appear within the next hour. She gripped the binoculars a little tighter. She wasn’t going to see anything with the storm moving in. Not a good day for research and observation. She let the binoculars fall around her neck. Even on days like this, she loved her job. She preferred being outside and the research allowed her to move around Montana. Since the death of her parents and little brother in a car crash when she was in college, she had lived like a nomad, never putting down roots anywhere. That was the way she liked it.
The wind died down for a moment and movement much closer to her caught her attention. On the m
ountain road above her, a car had rolled off the road. She’d heard the muffled sound of a crash only moments before. Now as the wind died down, the noise made sense.
She saw a man crouched in front of the car. Her heart squeezed tight. A man holding a rifle was headed down the steep incline. She’d thought the shots she heard before were from a hunter somewhere on the mountain.
The man by the car bolted to his feet. She could see the bright colors of his ski jacket even when the wind picked up. Panic filled her body. It was the man in the ski jacket who was being hunted. The man must have seen the orange of her hunting vest. He made a beeline toward her.
Another shot was fired. The man in the ski jacket fell in the snow. Her heart lurched. Had he been hit?
She ran toward him. Her boots sank into the snow. She looked up the mountain seeing only white. The neutral colors the man with the rifle wore made it harder to see him.
The man in the ski jacket got to his feet. She ran toward him, nearly crashing into him.
He gripped her arm. The fear she saw in his face turned to relief.
A thousand questions raged through her head. Was this some sort of drug deal or other crime gone bad? Was she helping a criminal? Was the man shooting at a hunter who had lost his marbles?
Another shot rang through the air. She scanned the landscape in the general direction the shot had come from, but she could see nothing through the blowing snowfall.
The man in the ski jacket would have to explain later.
The only thing that was clear to her was that his life was in danger.
She tugged on his sleeve. “This way.” Her truck was parked down the mountain in a grove of trees.
They half ran and half slid down the mountain toward the next section of winding road. She hurried through the evergreens to her truck. She yanked open the driver’s side door. The man in the ski jacket got into the passenger side of the truck.
