by Katy Lee
“B-but that’s not possible. How would they know I would race her? Steven had brought her out to the lineup.”
“Did Steven ask you to race Game Changer? Or did you ask?”
Grace focused as hard as she could, but her mind was still muddled. An ache was also starting to form in her head to match the one in her chest. Whatever medication they must have given her for pain was wearing off. “I remember petting the horse. I think Steven came down off the cart and mentioned that they needed a driver. I’m light enough and sometimes I take the horses out.”
“But did he ask you specifically?”
Grace tried to nod her head as the conversation came back, but she was immovable. “Ya, he asked me to drive the cart.”
“Then it was Steven who tried to kill you.” Jack’s jaw clenched and anger glittered in his eyes.
Grace’s throat closed at such a malevolent statement. All she could squeak out was, “Kill?”
In the next second, heavy footsteps came into the room, just like the ones she’d heard when her attacker entered, and Grace let out a bloodcurdling scream.
TWELVE
Jack spun around to come face-to-face with Hank Maddox. The sheriff sent him a scathing look before approaching a hysterical Grace in her hospital bed. When Hank pushed past him, Jack fought the urge to grab the man’s arm and yank him away from her, but right now, he needed him. There was a dangerous criminal on the loose who was after Grace.
“Grace, it’s only me,” Hank said as he leaned over her. “I came as soon as I heard what happened.” He held her hand and gave her comfort as he spoke soothingly to her. Slowly, her cries subsided.
“Sheriff?” Grace’s raspy voice squeaked. “I thought you were him.”
“Who?” Sheriff Maddox asked.
“The man who tried to kill me. He was in my room,” she said frantically. “I couldn’t do anything. I need to get out of this brace.”
He patted her hand. “I’ll see what I can do. But right now I need to know, did you get a look at this person?”
“No, not at all. He kept himself hidden, and I couldn’t turn because of the brace. And then the pillow was all I could see.” Her voice cracked with tears that made Jack fist his hands in anger. “Jack says the accident at the track was also done on purpose, to kill me.”
Hank glanced at Jack over his shoulder with a disgusted expression. “That might not be accurate.”
Jack crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I have to disagree. I’ve seen enough crime scenes to know foul play was involved.”
Hank’s eyes narrowed. “And how does an Amish man find himself at crime scenes? Please, enlighten me, Mr. Kaufman. Were they your own crimes?”
Jack clamped his back teeth together to keep from giving up any more of his cover. “I’ve been around.”
Hank straightened up. “Yeah, you should know I’m looking into the places you’ve been around. I’d like to know where you’ve been hiding out for eight years. It’s like you’ve vanished off the face of the earth after you left your Colorado community.”
“Nope, I’m right here.” That was all Jack was giving the guy.
“I’d like to know why you didn’t do time.”
“Because, like I told you before, all charges were dropped. I was innocent.”
“Does she know what you did yet? If you’re not going to tell her, I will.”
Grace pulled at Hank’s hand. “Yes, he has, but I don’t care. He’s been helpful to me and Daed. Just like you have been. I need you to accept this.”
“So that’s it?” Hank tugged his hand away. “You’re going to take the word of a stranger over my warning just because he is Amish? Amelia, you’re making a big mistake.”
“Amelia?” Jack said.
“I mean Grace,” Hank amended quickly. “It’s been a trying night, sorry.”
“Grace’s mamm Amelia?” Jack asked.
“It was a slip. They look so much alike, is all.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Grace interjected with a frown. “What matters is you can’t tell me I’m making a mistake. I will take Jack’s word that he was innocent of all charges. He’s been through enough.”
Hank’s face flushed, but Grace had set things straight with him on where she stood on the subject, and there was nothing the man could do about it.
“I stopped to inform your father of your accident,” he announced after a pause. “Benjamin was with an Amish woman I’ve never seen before. Another long-lost relative?” he asked Grace point-blank.
Her gaze shifted to Jack and her lips pressed closed. Jack was glad she didn’t blow Nic’s cover.
Hank huffed in annoyance. “That’s what I thought. There’s something going on around here, and I will figure it out.” He turned to leave, but Jack put a hand on his chest to stop him as he tried to brush by.
Jack locked gazes with the sheriff. “Someone tried to kill Grace today. That cart was tampered with, and I had to resuscitate her after someone attempted to smother her right here in the hospital. There’s something else more pressing going on around here than me and my past. Don’t waste your time with me, or Grace could end up paying for it with her life. Do your job and find the man who came in here. There must be surveillance in the halls, at least. But I would start with the stable hands, if I were you.”
“Well, you’re not.” Hank sneered and grabbed Jack’s hand to throw it off him. “But Steven Byler is in the waiting room, so I’ll go talk to him now. For all I know, you did this.”
Once Hank stormed from the room, Jack stood in silence, thinking about his next move in protecting Grace and catching a horse thief.
“You have to tell him you’re undercover,” Grace said. “It’s not right for me to lie.”
He walked to the foot of her bed and faced her. “You haven’t lied at all, and I will never make you. If there comes a time you feel there is no other answer but the truth, you have my permission.”
“Denki.” Her eyelids drooped down, and he knew she needed rest. But as he made a move to go sit outside her room, Grace’s eyes shot open. “No, don’t go. Please don’t leave me alone.”
He grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over hers. Just moments before, Hank had held her hand the same way. It was such an intimate display, and yet Grace accepted it without complaint.
Jack figured Hank had to be at least thirty years older than Grace, and as the sheriff, he shouldn’t have such a close relationship with the Amish. It went against the social norm of separation from the English, and especially from law enforcement.
Her hand curled in his, and their fingers locked in a clasp. He took a deep breath and asked, “Does Hank treat all the Amish like he treats you?”
“No...” Grace’s words slurred as her eyes drifted shut again. “He cares for me.”
Jack frowned, then expelled a rush of air as though she’d sucker-punched him. “He’s English,” Jack sputtered. There were so many other valid reasons for such a relationship to be taboo, but that was the only one to form on his tongue.
“It’s not what you think,” Grace said. “Hank was my mamm’s friend.”
Her response stumped him as he tried to understand how this could be. After a few moments, Jack realized there was only one way. Hank wasn’t an Amish man, so that could only mean... “Your mamm was English?” he asked.
But Grace didn’t respond, and one look showed she had fallen fast asleep. Jack refrained from shaking her awake. He had so many questions that needed answers, but he wouldn’t be getting them tonight. Tonight, he would stand guard over this woman who just might be in danger because of something other than her expertise with horses. It was too bad Amelia was no longer alive to shed some light on her past.
But perhaps there was a reason Grace’s mamm was already dead, and that reason was more than a loud car and a spooked horse.
/> * * *
Grace’s ears vibrated from the loud noise. She whimpered where she lay in the grass, knowing her mamm was only a few feet away, hurt...or worse. But no matter how hard Grace tried to move, her body wouldn’t budge. She cried out for her mother again, “Mamm, please tell me you’re all right. Mamm, answer me, please!”
“Grace! Grace!” a male voice called to her from somewhere far off.
She searched the blue sky above, but not a face could be seen. Grace tried to look around the open field where her body had been thrown from the buggy but couldn’t turn her head. No matter how hard she tried, her face stayed straight in place, staring up to the sky.
“Grace, wake up!” the voice came again.
She recognized it and was instantly frantic to find him. “Jack!” she called out. “Jack, help me!”
“I’m right here, lieb. Open your eyes. I’m right in front of you. I’ve got you, love.”
Confusion set in and suddenly the blue sky was swapped out for bright lights that blinded her as she gazed at the face above her. The very one she needed to see in this heart-wrenching moment of losing her mother all over again.
But the electric lights were so bright she had to close her eyes again until she could adjust to the glare.
“It was just a dream,” Jack said. “It wasn’t real.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. He was wrong. It was very real. Grace tried to shake her head back and forth, then remembered why she was locked in place. The unforgiving traction bound her to the bed and kept her from reinjuring herself. But she needed Jack to know he was wrong.
“It was real,” she insisted, reaching out for him. “Or at least parts of it. There was one part that I’m not sure of. It all happened so fast. I don’t know what it means.”
Jack sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand, rubbing it gently with his thumb. He said, “Okay, talk to me. What happened?”
“I think the cart accident made me remember something from Mamm’s death. Something I hadn’t realized because we had been arguing when the horse raced ahead. But maybe it was just in the dream. Maybe it wasn’t how things actually happened.”
“Just tell me, Grace. Talking about it might jog your memory.”
Grace sighed and bit her lower lip. What if she was wrong? She closed her eyes and thought of what she remembered of the dream. But she needed to go deeper than that. Taking a long breath and then letting it out, she heard the heart monitor slow down again, and allowed her mind to remember Amelia’s death.
“It wasn’t a car.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “Go on. What wasn’t a car?”
“The horse didn’t bolt because of a loud car. There had been a loud bang, but it wasn’t a car. The horse took off running—no, racing. It started racing because it heard the starter gun.” She opened her eyes. Having said the words spoken aloud made her realize how ferhoodled she was acting. “Never mind. That’s impossible. It was just the distorted dream probably mixing up with the cart accident. Forget I said anything.”
“I can’t do that,” Jack said. His face took on a serious expression. “What you’re saying makes perfect sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. Nothing about that dream made sense. It was an accident because my daed purchased a bad horse.”
“He purchased a good horse, but someone most likely switched his horse out for a top racer. Then someone else came to collect and thought shooting the gun would be the easiest way to do that. What happened to the horse after the accident?”
Grace sputtered at Jack’s astronomical notions. “I was told he died. He was taken to the ranch’s vet.”
“By whom?”
“Hank, I think. I was too distraught to notice.”
Jack nodded. “That would make sense. And someone would count on you being distracted.”
“Are you saying they were stealing from my daed before they stole from me?”
“Yes.”
Grace took a moment to let this realization sink in. “So, Mamm’s death wasn’t caused by Daed’s poor horse purchase?”
“No.”
The heart monitor picked up its pace. “Her death wasn’t an accident.” Tears pricked Grace’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, Grace, but no, it was well planned.”
“But why would they kill her if they only wanted the horse?”
“The only way to know that is to find our thief. And to find him before he kills again.”
THIRTEEN
Early the next morning, Jack sat outside Grace’s hospital room. He’d had a chair brought over for him during the night, but he hadn’t dared sleep. He was glad, however, that she finally did. He hated seeing the deep sadness on her face after learning her mother’s death most likely had not been an accident at all. As she’d restlessly slumbered, he’d spent the night putting connections together, making mental plans of his next steps to catch whoever was behind these crimes.
When Jack had arrived in Rogues Ridge, all he had was a case on stolen horses that had been sold into illegal horse racing. He had planned to come to Autumn Woods to figure out who the culprit was who’d stolen the horses, make an arrest, and be on his way. Never had he thought he would be dressed as an Amish man, protecting an Amish woman from someone who wanted her dead.
Jack lifted his shirt and reached past his gun for his cell phone, strapped to him under his clothes. He pressed the number for Nic and with the phone to his ear, waited for her to answer.
The phone rang four times before going to voice mail.
Jack checked the time on the clock at the end of the long hall. “6:30 a.m. She should be awake,” he mumbled in annoyance.
The elevator doors opened down the corridor just then, and out stepped Bishop Bontrager. He paused when he noticed Jack in his chair. Then he eyed the phone.
Jack cleared his throat and hit the end call button.
Bishop Bontrager slowly walked forward in silence until three feet separated them. Jack stood up and pocketed the phone as the elder asked, “Shall we talk?”
Jack could tell it wasn’t really a question, but an order. He faced the old man and nodded.
“I know you’re not related to the Millers. The sheriff came to me yesterday to share your past.”
Jack expected this. “Don’t you mean my record?”
“I will hold my judgment until I hear your side. But imagine my surprise when he told me your real name wasn’t Amos. Don’t lie to me again.”
Jack stood speechless for a moment. He was expecting the same reaction that he had received from his own bishop in Colorado. His community hadn’t even wanted to hear his reasons. His choices had disgraced them, and that was all they’d needed to cut him off.
As Jack decided how honest he would be with the elder, a nurse turned the corner at the end of the hall and walked toward them. He took in her features and filed them away without thought. He was a cop now and no longer an Amish man. His way of thinking no longer fitted into the peaceful and slow ways of the Amish. His mind had been trained for the darker side of life.
Once the nurse had passed them, Jack faced the bishop and said, “What you were told is true. Charges were dropped, but I did help a young woman out and transported a gun across state lines with her. That gun was then used to rob a convenience store, and I was framed for it. The law was understanding, but my family were not.”
He waited for Bishop Bontrager to react, but seconds lapsed before the man sniffed and said, “Thank you for your honesty. Now, I have to ask why you are in Rogues Ridge.”
Jack looked toward Grace’s closed door. He knew the man was asking about his relationship with her, but that was not a topic he could discuss. He wasn’t even sure he had an answer.
“I’m not getting in the way, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Jack replied. “We come from different worlds.”
&nb
sp; Confusion crinkled the bishop’s bushy eyebrows. “Are you saying you’re not Amish?”
“I’m saying I have my views on certain topics that don’t match hers.” Jack breathed deeply through his nose. He thought of the gun under his shirt. If the cell phone had shocked the bishop, the gun would give him a heart attack.
“If you’re speaking about her ideas of taking over for Benjamin as the horse trader, I understand your concern. It concerns us, as well. Hearing about her accident at the track has caused much distress within the community. It only proves she needs to see that our ways are for her protection.”
Jack locked his gaze on Bishop Bontrager, sizing him up as quickly as he had the nurse. “Do you really care about her safety?”
The man sputtered. “What kind of question is that? I care for the safety of all my flock. That is why I have tried to convince her to marry.”
“Leroy Mast.”
Bishop Bontrager nodded firmly. “He’s a gut man.”
“That may be the case, but Grace needs to be the one to decide who’s the right man for her.” Jack’s stomach twisted at the thought of Grace with anyone, but he tamped the feeling down before the bishop noticed his discomfort. Jack couldn’t even explain his reaction...or the longing he had to be the man she chose.
Impossible.
“Grace is no longer at a marriageable age. Her choices are few.”
“But they should still be her choices,” Jack said. “All I’m saying is let her decide without pressure.”
“As long as I know you aren’t pressuring her, either.”
Jack huffed. “She would never allow it.”
Bishop Bontrager smirked. “No, I don’t suppose she would. She is a strong-willed woman.”
Jack studied the bishop with his bushy beard as white as snow and his kind, twinkling eyes. But could the man be trusted? Jack wanted to believe the bishop was innocent in all these crimes, but he couldn’t risk it. Grace’s life depended upon it. No one could be ruled out.
“It’s too early for hospital visits, but can I trust you to tell her I stopped by?” Bishop Bontrager asked. “We are all worried about her. We want to see her back in the community again.”
