by Laura Scott
Then he turned to where Noelle sat on the couch and his heart soared with thanksgiving for how their relationship had grown, day by day, week by week, meal by meal and conversation by conversation, as slowly they’d gotten to know each other. She’d passed her internal police investigation with flying colors and was back to working long hours on new high-profile drugs cases with Liberty and the rest of their team. But she always made time for Adam and his family. And as for right now, in this quiet moment alone, he had her full attention, and she had his.
“I have a surprise,” he said. He pulled his guitar from its place by the couch, then sat down on the coffee table opposite her and started to strum. “I’ve been practicing. It’s slow going, but I’m getting there.”
For a long moment, he sat there, his knees bumping hers and singing under his breath as he played one of the first songs he’d learned as a teenager.
When he finished, Noelle leaned toward him.
“You have no idea how extraordinary you are, do you, Adam?” she asked.
“Funny,” he said and set the guitar down. “I feel the same way about you.”
Her hand brushed his jaw.
“Is it okay if I tell you I love you?” she asked.
“Very okay,” he said. “Because I’m so very in love with you too, Noelle. I love everything about you. How you care, how you push yourself and who you’re striving to be. I love how you are with my parents and Matty. I miss you every moment you’re not around and I’m so unbelievably happy when you’re near me. You make me feel like the richest man alive.”
Her hand slid around the back of his neck. “I’m ready to be more than friends, if you are.”
He took her face in his hands and thanked God for blessing him with this extraordinary woman.
“I’m ready to ask you to marry me,” he confessed.
“And I’m ready to say yes to that,” she said.
A grin turned at the corner of his mouth. “Noelle, will you please marry me and be my wife?”
“Of course I will.”
Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply, knowing without a shadow of a doubt he was holding the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Deadly Amish Reunion by Dana R. Lynn.
Dear Reader,
I’ve always loved dogs. I have two in my life right now, one of which was rescued from a shelter and the other was adopted from a family friend. They’re both tiny and have such different personalities. One will only ever sleep next to my head and the other only my feet. One furiously chases squirrels with a focused determination. The other happily bounces around during the chase with no real direction or idea of what she’s supposed to be doing.
I really love the K-9 Love Inspired Suspense series and feel really honored to be a part of them, especially as I was a fan of some of the other authors in the series before I was even published. My fictional dogs are every bit as real to me as the human characters, including Harry the precocious Canadian husky, Queenie the sweet Texan electronics detection dog, Garfunkel the protective Malinois and now Liberty, who my fellow authors did such a wonderful job of describing before I wrote this story about her and Noelle.
For many of us, this has been a hard and tricky year and for some this Christmas might not look the way we’re used to. As Adam tells Noelle, there’s no one right way to celebrate Christmas. My prayer is that wherever this finds you, and whomever you celebrate with, you’re surrounded by love, faith, joy and hope.
Thank you as always for sharing this journey with me,
Maggie
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
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Deadly Amish Reunion
by Dana R. Lynn
ONE
Where had he seen that face before?
Luke Beiler frowned at the face on the television news report behind the front counter. He knew that man. The scowling face with the angry eyes sent chills of foreboding down his spine. Whoever he was, he was dangerous.
Luke focused on the captioned words below the picture. Steve Curtis, aged forty-eight, in prison for rape, attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon, had escaped from prison.
“Police warn that Steve Curtis is dangerous and very likely armed,” the news anchor said into the camera. The camera shifted to a reporter standing outside the prison. “Janelle?”
“Marie, the prison isn’t commenting yet as to how he managed to escape. One theory spreading through the area is that Steve Curtis didn’t escape on his own. The police are asking citizens to call the number on the screen if they have any information on his whereabouts or about anyone connected with his escape. Back to you, Marie.”
Marie faced the camera again. “If you see Steve Curtis, police are warning you not to approach him but call them immediately.”
The news anchor began reporting on the next story, something about a series of home invasions and robberies occurring these past two weeks before Christmas. Luke tuned them out, frowning as he tried to force himself to recall anything about Steve Curtis.
“Luke, cumme!”
Luke pulled his mind back to the present and hefted the fifty-pound bag of animal feed over his shoulder, nearly knocking over a small Christmas tree on a stand. His free hand shot out to steady the tree, then he followed his brother Raymond out of the small country store located outside of New Wilmington, Pennsylvania, their boots crunching on the December snow.
Luke’s pace was slower today and his limp more pronounced. He’d been overdoing it lately. The doctor had warned him that his leg would never be as strong as it had been before he was injured.
Not that he could remember anything about that. Luke had woken up in a ditch one day, several hours away from his parents’ home near New Wilmington. He had no memory of how he had gotten there. He’d been wearing a flannel shirt that had seen much better days and jeans that had been ripped to pieces. His left leg had been in agony. The last thing he remembered was being on his rumspringa, so he’d not thought too much about his attire.
He’d been able to hitch a ride from a farmer to his parents’ haus. Nothing could prepare him for their shocked reaction. And he’d been even more astonished to learn that he was not seventeen, but twenty-two. His parents had informed him that he had had a fight with his father and had left in the middle of the night five years earlier. They hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
They had the local doctor come and treat his leg. He’d had a partial fracture. The doctor had mused that he might have been hit by a car, but if he had been, they’d never found out who had struck him.
To this day, he had no idea what he had done in those five years.
“Luke, bist du gut?”
“Jah, Raymond. I’m gut. Just thinking.”
“Ach. No wonder you’re so slow today.”
Luke grinned, but in his heart, he didn’t feel it. Something dark hovered in his mind. He attempted to shrug it off and followed Raymond out to the parking lot.
Several buggies were there. New Wilmington’s Amish buggies were unique, black on the bottom with burnt-orange tops. Usually, the Amish goal was not to stand out. In this one aspect, however, the nineteen districts of New Wilmington stood apart from the Amish communities in the rest of the country. Luke clambered up into the buggy beside his brother, grunting as his whole weight briefly settled on his bad leg. It was bitterly cold this morning. His breath misted in the air in front of his face, blurring his vision.
As he dropped onto the seat, an image briefly seared across his brain. And a name. “Jennie!”
“What?” Raymond flicked the reins to start the horses moving be
fore tossing a frown at his older brother.
“I don’t know.” He couldn’t shake the sense of urgency. “I just have an image in my mind. A girl. Long brown hair. Brown eyes. She’s so familiar. I think her name is—”
“Jennie.” There was an unfamiliar heaviness in his brother’s voice. Raymond was made for cheer, always ready to laugh.
“You know her?” Luke asked his brother. Why would that surprise him? Raymond might be four years younger than Luke, but he had five years of memories that Luke, at twenty-seven, had lost.
“Jah. I know her.” Raymond hesitated. “She was a friend of yours when we were working on building hauser with Onkel Jed.” Their onkel Jed lived near Spartansburg, a rural area nearly seventy miles north of where the rest of his family lived. In Luke’s mind, he could visualize his daed’s twin brother. They might have looked alike, but Jed’s nature was more flexible.
Luke squeezed his eyes shut, willing the image of the girl to return. “I don’t remember anything about her. Why would I think of her now?” Another question struck him. “If we were such gut friends, why have you never mentioned her before?”
His brother shrugged but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You were home. She wasn’t Plain.”
Suddenly something clicked. “Daed worried I might have been drawn to her, didn’t he?” It really wasn’t a question. Luke had recalled hearing his father and mother whispering about him soon after he’d returned. They had been concerned that if he regained his memory he might wish to go back to the Englisch world. When his memories hadn’t returned, he’d settled into the Amish world again and had even been baptized into the church two years ago.
“Jah, he and Mamm were both worried,” Raymond finally responded as if the words were dragged from him.
“I have to find her.” Luke hadn’t planned on saying that, but now that the words were out there, he knew it was true.
“For what reason? It’s been years since you’ve seen her.”
The picture of Steve Curtis flashed in his mind again. “That man on the news. Steve Curtis. He’s a bad man, with plenty of reason to hate Jennie. He’ll hurt her.” Again. Luke didn’t question how he knew that the man had hurt the girl before, just as he didn’t question the desperation crawling inside him, making him itch from the inside out. He didn’t remember much about Jennie, not even her last name. But she was important to him. And she was in trouble. Deadly trouble.
Raymond tried to convince him to let it go all the way home, but Luke dug in his heels. He couldn’t ignore the girl that hovered on the fringes of his memory. Not when he thought she was in danger.
Although, he strongly suspected her image would disturb him even if he wasn’t sure she was in harm’s way.
“She’s in danger, Ray. I have to find her. You can help me or not, but don’t think you can stop me.”
He bore his brother’s appraising gaze in silence, jaw clenched. He would not, could not, budge on this issue.
“Ach, you always were stubborn. Fine. I will go with you. Let’s empty the buggy, then we can leave.”
Satisfied, Luke nodded. “I’ll call to see if we can find a driver.”
Raymond frowned, but didn’t object. “Jah, if we’re going to Spartansburg, it would be best.”
Without another word, Luke ignored his aching leg and strode to the barn. Their bishop allowed them a phone in their businesses for such matters. It took Luke fifteen minutes to find a driver who could come on short notice, but he finally found one. He returned to the buggy and assisted his brother, carrying the heavy bags from the buggy and into the barn. When the last bag had been moved, he went into the haus to pack a lunch for them and gather together a change of clothes.
“How long do you plan on being gone?” Raymond asked from the doorway as he watched Luke throw the clothes into a knapsack.
Luke shrugged. “Probably just a few hours. But I want to be prepared.”
Bag packed, he moved out onto the porch to wait for the driver. Raymond explained to their mother that they were heading to Spartansburg. Luke noticed he made no mention of Jennie, whoever she was. It was probably for the best. He couldn’t have explained the urgency sweeping through his veins.
When their driver, Sam, arrived, Raymond sat in the back, allowing Luke to sit up front in the passenger seat. As Sam drove, Luke stared out the window, pounding his fist lightly against his thigh.
He’d been down these roads so many times in the past five years. Now his eyes scoured the passing scenery, searching for some clue that might jog his lost memories. Just one hint about who this woman was and why his very soul screamed that he needed to hurry.
Sam pulled off I-79 at the Meadville-Conneaut Lake exit. Luke’s entire body sprang to attention.
“Is something wrong?” Raymond demanded from the back.
“She’s here, in Meadville. Not in the city, but close to it. At least, I think she is.” How he knew this, he couldn’t say. But now that they were here, he could sense that they were getting close. He couldn’t visualize the whole journey or the end destination, but as they approached an intersection, he knew whether they should turn or keep straight. The streets, with their wreath-decorated light posts, were somehow familiar. He’d definitely been here before.
Part of him was excited that his memory might be returning. But most of his thoughts were consumed with the image of the brown-haired woman he’d seen in his mind. He knew she was in danger. Just as he knew she was somehow important to him, but he wasn’t willing to share that insight with his brother. Not yet, with tension zipping through him, tightening his shoulders and clenching his gut.
A little more than a half hour later, he pressed his face closer to the window, staring at the scenery, the familiarity of the place like a spiderweb he’d walked under. He could feel it—it tickled his senses, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.
He’d been through here many times before when he’d traveled to Onkel Jed and Tante Eleanor’s haus. Yet never had his emotions been stirred to this extent.
He knew this place, more than just as a spectator moving through.
He had lived here, or close by. He couldn’t remember anything else, but this he knew for a fact. Under his breath, he muttered a quick prayer for Gott to bless their endeavor.
This was where they would find Jennie.
If they weren’t too late.
* * *
The phone was ringing as Jennie Beiler shoved her key into the lock of her apartment and let herself in. “Hold on. Hold on,” she muttered, kicking off her gray booties by the door before hurrying to the kitchen. She set one of the grocery bags on the counter. Then she pushed the speaker on the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girl. It’s Randi.”
“Hold on a minute.” Jennie grabbed her earbuds and pushed the plug into the audio jack. Placing the small plastic buds in her ears, she shoved the phone into her back jeans pocket. “Okay, I can hear you now.”
Randi Griggs was her oldest friend. They’d known each other since they were both eleven and in foster care. They chatted for a few minutes about Christmas plans. Neither Jennie nor Randi had parents around, although they both had older brothers.
“Are you going to see your brother and his wife?” Randi asked.
Jennie washed the vegetables before putting them in the refrigerator. Her son, LJ, loved green peppers and carrots, so she always made sure to have those on hand.
“No. He and Sophie are traveling this year with Celine and their daughter.” Celine was Sophie’s sixteen-year-old sister.
The neighbors in the next apartment started arguing. Jennie flipped the television on and kept the volume on low to block out the words. She didn’t particularly want to hear what they were fighting about.
“I’ll bet LJ is still begging for a puppy,” Randi laughed.
Jennie carried the milk an
d orange juice to the refrigerator, opening her mouth to reply, but the words lodged in her throat as she saw the television news alert. Sudden fear choked her. Steve Curtis had escaped from prison.
She hadn’t seen her stepfather since she was fifteen. Not since she’d testified against him for rape and attempted murder. He looked older, and harder, but she’d know that face anywhere. And now he was on the loose.
He would come for her. She knew it. He had promised he’d get his revenge for her costing him everything. Steve always kept his promises.
The two containers slipped from Jennie’s hands. The gallon of milk burst open and splashed on her whitewashed jeans and soaked her thick pink woolen socks. She ignored the discomfort. And the ruined groceries. Her world had tipped on its side and she was struggling to keep her balance.
“Jennie? Are you still there?”
Randi’s voice pulled her back to the present.
Jennie squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her mind to blot out the memories assailing her. “Randi, I’m sorry. I have to go. Call you later.”
Without waiting for a response, she hung up on the other woman. Her breath hitched as her anxiety spiked.
The man who had attacked her, not once but twice, had escaped from prison.
When Steve had first attacked her, she’d been barely eleven, and her brother, Aiden, had rescued her before she was harmed. Her testimony against her stepfather had put Steve in jail for attempted rape and assault.
Her mother had accused her of lying, of trying to destroy their family. Even with Aiden there as a witness, she’d refused to accept that what her children said was true. By the time she had realized her daughter was telling the truth, the system had declared her an unfit mother for endangering the welfare of her children. Jennie and Aiden were removed from the home. The mortification had been too much. Barbara Forster had divorced her worthless husband, emptied their checking account and relinquished her parental rights. Jennie never saw her again.
