by Dana R. Lynn
Julia fastened her concerned gaze on her new friend. “Anything. You know that.”
She nodded. She felt guilty, because she was about to willfully deceive her friend. “Listen, Jonathan Mast is on his way. So are the police. They are all going to help find Tyler. Can you keep an eye on Bethany?”
She went back upstairs to change into her own clothes. She shoved the phone into the pocket of her jeans. As she was putting on her tennis shoes, her eyes fell on one of the scars that marred the smooth skin on her legs. Those scars had embarrassed her for so long. Why? She remembered Tyler’s face when he touched the scar. The tenderness. The gentle care. She saw none of the disgust she had felt so often when she looked at them. Why? Because the scars did not—should not—define who she was as a person.
She was done hiding behind them.
A few minutes later, she was out the back door and going in search of her husband. She had no idea where she was going. But she remembered that Harvest had only one bus station. That seemed to be the most likely direction to go. Tyler was only an hour or so ahead of her. Hopefully, she could find him before he boarded a bus.
She walked for an hour. No sign of him. She started to pray. Every once in a while, her mind would wrangle with the notion that she might have taken the wrong road, or that she might have been headed in the wrong direction. If she had her own phone, it would have a GPS on it.
She shook the ideas away. She needed to keep going. She knew that she was going the right way.
A loud click on the left startled her. Spinning, she found herself staring into the face of a stranger. A handsome young man with a winsome face and a wealth of curly black hair. The man had a charming smile. He also had a gun, aimed right at her.
“Well, hello, Mrs. Everson,” he said, almost pleasantly. “How nice of you to join me.”
* * *
Tyler had left the house an hour and a half ago. He’d changed out of his Amish clothes and back into his own stuff and slipped out. He had walked for about an hour when he had come to his senses and realized that leaving his family would not make the danger go away. It would only cause three people pain. He turned back, intent on returning and begging his wife to take him back. He hadn’t gotten far when he heard Annie’s voice just around the bend. She must have found his letter almost immediately. And, in typical Annie style, she must have stormed out to find him. Did she call the police? The marshals? He had no idea. When he had talked to Karl almost an hour ago, he didn’t mention a call from Annie.
Karl hadn’t been happy with his decision to leave. He felt bad, knowing the marshal was even now on his way to pick Tyler up. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too annoyed with him.
Strolling around the bend, he saw Annie struggling with a stranger. The man was doing his best to drag her along with him.
“Let her go!” Tyler yelled.
Annie gasped his name as he stepped forward. He glanced at her. Was she hurt? She didn’t look hurt; she looked mad.
The man didn’t let her go. Instead, he barked a harsh laugh. “Let her go? No way, man. I got a tip that you were seen down this road an hour ago. I never dreamed I would run into the missus here. She’s my insurance that you will do exactly what I want.”
He didn’t protest when the man forced them to get into his truck. Tyler was at the wheel. Annie was in the middle, her leg touching his. The dark-haired man sat on the other side of Annie, his gun pressed into her side. Tyler had no doubt that if he made the wrong move, this man would casually pull the trigger and end his wife’s life. Tyler had to think of a way to get her out.
It was clear in his mind that the smiling stranger had no intention of letting either of them live. Not after he’d let them both get such a clear image of him. Why hadn’t he just shot them where they were? That was the question. Tyler knew that the bounty on him was for his death.
“I’m guessing you’re wondering why you are still alive, aren’t you?”
Tyler jerked. Having this savvy young man echo his thoughts was disconcerting, to say the least. “I know that you’ve figured out that I don’t really have a use for you. But here’s the thing. You have caused my family a lot of grief, Mr. Everson.”
His family? Who was this kid? “My father is sitting in prison because you couldn’t mind your own business. My mother, she’s inconsolable.”
“You’re Barco’s son.” His voice was flat. Honestly, he couldn’t even say he was surprised. Now that he thought of it, he could see the resemblance. Until that moment, he’d never seen Wilson Barco Jr.
“Obviously,” the kid sneered. “I would have thought a lawyer would be smarter.”
“So if you’re not going to kill us—”
Annie’s words broke off with a gasp. Tyler jerked his eyes around to see Junior pushing the gun harder into her side. Her face paled even more, gaining a waxy cast to it.
“Hey!” The truck swerved slightly as he reacted to the sight of his wife suffering at the man’s hands.
“Careful!” Junior snarled. “You crash and she dies.”
He straightened the truck, his knuckles going white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. He had to keep his wits about him. As soon as he saw a chance to rescue Annie, he would take it. It no longer mattered what happened to him, as long as he could save her. And give her a chance to be returned safely to their daughter.
Junior was apparently only too happy to tell them all about his plans for them. “In answer to your question, Mrs. Everson, of course I’m going to kill you. I don’t plan on letting someone else claim money that should go to me as my inheritance.”
Charming. The family devotion boggled the mind.
“I think, however, that my mother would be comforted to know that you are suffering for what you have done to our family. The loss of business. You have no idea how much money has been lost because of you.”
This was like a bad gangster show. He could hardly believe people actually thought this way. Except that this warped young man held a gun to Annie’s side.
“How did you find us?” Annie asked.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on this situation. I know, for example, that your mother was used as bait. And that you bit and called her. When the man who burned down her house obtained records of your mom’s phone calls, he told me about it. I think he thought I would up the bounty. It wasn’t that hard to trace the phone you used. I was able to get a rough idea of where you were calling from. Flash your pictures around, and that’s all it took.”
Annie looked at Tyler out of the corner of her eye. He glanced down. Somehow the phone the marshals had given them was open on the seat beside him. She had called someone. Who? He sent up a prayer that the phone signal would be tracked.
He hoped it worked. Hoped someone found them, although it was unlikely.
One positive thought ran through his mind.
The man had no idea that they had been living with the Amish. That much was clear. He had no idea where to go to get to Bethany.
He drove for forty-five minutes, going through so many twists and turns that he could barely keep them straight in his mind. Every time they shifted, he checked the compass on the dashboard. The majority of the time, they were headed west. Back toward Chicago. Surely, they weren’t going to drive this way for the next five hours, were they? Flicking his eyes to the gas gauge, he saw that they only had half a tank of gas left. Lifting his head, he had just enough time to see the police cruiser swerve in front of the truck. He turned the steering wheel and stomped his foot on the brake. The truck careened over to the side of the road, the right front tire going up over the embankment on the side of the road.
Wilson Barco Jr.’s head slammed against the passenger side window. He slumped, stunned. Tyler could hear the man breathe, so he knew that he wasn’t dead. Who knew how long he’d been dazed, though.
Now was his chance. Yanking the g
earshift, Tyler put the truck into Park. Then he threw open the door and jumped out, pulling Annie with him. She threw her legs over the side and made the small hop down before the two of them started to run, hand in hand, toward the police.
“Hey!”
Tyler turned and looked back. Barco’s son was standing on the road taking aim. Tyler jerked Annie to his side and tried to hide her from Junior’s view. A shot rang out. A burning pain seared into his shoulder. He didn’t care.
“Keep running, Annie!” He followed her, waiting for the second shot. It went wide. The cops took aim, but they didn’t fire. He and Annie were between them and Barco.
“Annie, get down,” he told her.
The moment they were out of the way, the guns began to fire. He knew without looking that Barco was hit when they stopped. He wanted to look up, but found that his strength was gone.
“Tyler? Tyler! Get up!” He heard Annie’s voice. It sounded like it was coming through a tunnel. It had an odd, echoing sound to it.
“Annie?” He couldn’t make his mouth work right. His voice was muffled. He was going to pass out. His head was full of buzzing. The voices around him faded away.
When he came to, he was lying on his back. Annie was kneeling at his side. He’d never seen anything more beautiful than her pale face. Her brown eyes were flooded with tears. Aww. He hated that he had made her cry again. Actually, he hated that he had put her through everything she’d gone through in the past few weeks. When she’d asked if they could go into separate placements, he should have agreed. His gaze zeroed in on the bandage on her forehead. Another wound on his wife that he had to accept responsibility for. He regretted his selfishness.
How could he ask her to take him back after this?
“Ma’am, you need to move so we can treat him.”
Annabelle’s face was replaced by a paramedic’s long face on one side. Jonathan Mast looked down on him from the other side.
“She was prettier.” What was he saying? The paramedic rolled his eyes. Jonathan laughed quietly.
“I’m sure she was, Tyler. We have to get you to the hospital.”
“Where—where’s my daughter?” It was so hard to talk. He’d never felt so weak in his life.
“She’s fine, Tyler,” Annie said from the side. He moved his head back and forth, trying to crane his neck to see her. “Julia is watching her.”
Julia. Exhausted, he sank back down, allowing the paramedic to care for him. He didn’t protest when he was lifted gently onto the stretcher and placed in an ambulance. His eyes closed. He heard the door shut.
A warm hand took hold of his and held it. He pulled his lids open with an effort. Annie had come with him in the ambulance. His eyes devoured her face. “Are you all right?”
She smiled at him. It did funny things with his heart rhythm. “I’m fine, Tyler. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Barco?”
Her smile dimmed slightly. “He didn’t make it. He was killed at the scene. I told Jonathan what he had said about his mother. The marshals are going to check into whether or not she had any part in the illegal activities of her husband and son.”
He certainly hoped not. “I hate that she has lost a son.”
Annie sighed. “I do, too, but that is not your fault. Nor is it mine. The man made some really bad choices.”
That was the truth. His eyes closed. He couldn’t keep them open any longer. He let the darkness slide over him, knowing that Annie was beside him, holding his hand.
EIGHTEEN
Tyler hated hospitals. He couldn’t step inside one without being reminded of Annie almost dying. Annie crying for him, in pain. Confused by the accident. That memory had haunted him for the past few years. Even though he was coming to terms with the fact that he wasn’t completely to blame for what had happened, it still pained him to recall his beloved wife’s suffering.
And yet here he was, lying in a hospital bed, a large bandage across his chest.
The memory of what had happened surged through him. His pulse spiked. Where were Annie and Bethany? His last memory was of Annie’s face, pale and drawn with concern, as she leaned over him. But what if something had happened after he had blacked out? He couldn’t just lie here! He had to go and find them, make sure they were safe!
Tyler struggled to sit up, desperate to discover what had become of his family. The stitches in his shoulder pulled. A slight twinge in his arm caught his attention. He looked down. For the first time since he woke up, he realized he was hooked up to an IV. A grimace twisted his face. He was a mess.
“Good afternoon, Ty. Glad you’re awake.”
His head jerked up. He hadn’t even heard the door open. Jonathan Mast sauntered in. “Hey, Jonathan.”
Jonathan stopped at the edge of his bed and narrowed his eyes. “You took quite a beating out there. I certainly hope you weren’t planning on doing anything foolish. Like getting out of bed.”
“I need to make sure that my wife is okay.”
Jonathan reached out and placed a calming hand on his shoulder. The one without the stitches. “Relax. Annie is fine. Bethany is fine. Wilson Barco is still in jail. His son is dead. For now, the threat has been neutralized.”
“For now.” Tyler set his jaw. He had to do the right thing. No matter what it cost himself. “Look, Jonathan, I want you to find me a new placement.”
The marshal’s eyebrows moved closer together as he furrowed his forehead. “I can see why you would feel that way. You have to give me time to find a new placement. And to get the new identities together. And—”
“No.” Tyler shook his head. Each word he said was like a chisel being hammered into his heart. “Not identities. Identity. I think that my girls would be safer if I wasn’t with them.”
The frown on Jonathan’s face grew more pronounced. “Tyler, man, you don’t want to do that. Do you? You know what it would mean. It could be years before it’s safe for you to come out of the program. It’s possible it may never be safe. If you go this route, then you will be separated from them. Maybe even for the rest of your life. I don’t think you want to do that.”
He didn’t. Not even for a second. But it was the only way he could think of protecting them. “I do know that. But I also know that criminals like Barco are relentless. If I’m not around Annie and Bethany, maybe they would be easier to keep hidden. I will do whatever I need to do to keep them safe. Wouldn’t you do whatever you could to protect the family you love?”
He could see that Jonathan was wrestling with the subject in his mind.
“Don’t I get a say in all this?”
Annie. Tyler turned his head. His breath caught in his throat at the lovely woman standing in the doorway. Her large brown eyes were shadowed. She had seen so much in the few weeks that they had been hidden with the Amish. He had never loved her more. It killed him to think of giving her up. She never took her eyes off him as she spoke to the marshal.
“Jonathan, may I please have a moment alone with my husband?”
The marshal hurried to the door. “Of course, Annie. Take your time.” He was out of the room in a flash.
The silence stretched between them, awkward and tense with longing.
“I can’t believe after all we’ve been through that you would even consider leaving us again. Tyler, I thought we could finally be a family. And now you’re thinking of ripping us apart? Why?” She stepped up close to his side. If he wanted to, he could reach out and touch her. He curled his fingers into the bedsheet, controlling the impulse.
He sighed, wilting back against the pillow and closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, she was still there, still staring at him with hurt on her face.
“Annie, we were building something. And for a short time, I actually thought it might work out. I love you, Annie. I never stopped loving you.”
“Then w
hy—”
He held up a hand. Not a command. A gentle plea. Surprisingly, she paused and waited for him to speak. “Annie, you know why I let you go the first time. I know you said there was nothing to forgive, that it wasn’t my fault. But here we are in the same position again. My job has once again put you and Bethany in danger. If I leave, then maybe you could go on. Be safe and happy.”
She was already shaking her head, a challenge in her flashing brown eyes. “You are not God, Tyler Everson. Even if you left, who is to say that these people wouldn’t still come after us, to try and use us to bring you out? But even if no one ever tried to do that, Tyler, you can’t let them decide how you live your life. All the bad decisions, those are things we can’t help. And maybe you’re right. Maybe we would be ‘safer.’” Annabelle made air quotes with her fingers. “That doesn’t mean we’d be happier. Tyler, I don’t know how long we will have together. All I know is that I really do want to spend ‘’til death do us part’ with you. With my husband. The husband I am choosing for a second time. And I want Bethany to have her father near as she grows up. And maybe a couple of brothers or sisters, in time.”
He watched the color rise in her cheeks. How he loved this woman! And to think of raising a family with her, well, it would be his dearest wish. Would it be selfish?
“No, it wouldn’t be selfish.”
He blinked. He must have said that out loud.
“And you were wrong about another thing.” Her words were soft, almost a whisper. “We might go on without you, but I don’t feel like I could be happy. Not really. I would forever wonder where you were, if you were safe, if you were well. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. That’s how this love thing works. Even if we try to convince ourselves we’re fine, deep inside we’re just lying to ourselves.”
He already knew that. Hadn’t he spent the past few years trying to keep busy just to fill the hollow void left by his family’s absence? Could he even bear to go back to that lifestyle again, especially knowing she still loved him and had forgiven any wrong he’d done?
