Dangerous Amish Inheritance (Love Inspired Suspense)

by Debby Giusti

  Before their marriage Ben had been accepting. After the ceremony his true feelings had surfaced.

  She wiped the tears from her eyes. Ben was gone. Now she had to take care of her sons. Please, Gott, let Simon continue to get better and keep Andrew from getting sick.

  Before she and the boys returned to the mountain, she needed to get a kit to test her well water. How terrible if contamination had caused Simon’s infection.

  Dark clouds rolled overhead and the musky scent of rain hung in the air. The wind picked up, and she tightened her grip on the reins. She should have been more aware of the dark clouds in the distance before she started on her journey. Hopefully, she would not be stuck at Mattie’s house when she needed to return to the hospital to ensure Simon was improving.

  If Andrew was sick, she would take him with her and have him checked by a doctor, as well.

  Noah would be there, but soon after that he would sign papers to sell his land through the other real-estate firm in town.

  How would she explain his leaving to her boys? They were still struggling with Ben’s passing and her father’s death, and had all too readily accepted Noah into their lives. Now he would be gone.

  “Life is not fair,” Ruthie said to herself. She heard disappointment in her own voice, tempered with a bit of anger.

  After Ben’s death, she had hoped life would get easier, but that was not the case. New problems had arisen one after another, starting with the man who had come after her.

  Raindrops fell, gentle ones at first, then bigger drops that slapped against her skin and dampened her dress and bonnet.

  She pulled the blanket around her legs to keep them dry and narrowed her gaze to better see into the distance.

  A car raced by and threw water against the buggy.

  “Ach!” she groaned, wiping her face and hands on the blanket.

  She glanced back, no longer able to see the town in the heavy downpour, and then turned onto the side road that led to Mattie’s farm.

  The sky grew even darker, and the temperature dropped. Ruthie shivered and stared into the pouring rain to keep the mare on the road and headed in the right direction.

  The roar of an automobile sounded behind her. She glanced back and spotted headlights. The car was traveling much too fast. She pulled the mare to the side of the road and waited for it to pass, expecting the vehicle’s wheels to splash water that would drench her and the inside of the buggy.

  Instead of zooming around her buggy, the auto braked to a stop. Ruthie’s heart lurched. She glanced back but was unable to see the driver through the car’s tinted windshield. A dark sedan, like the car that had driven onto the curb and almost struck her children.

  She flicked the reins. The mare started to trot.

  The car accelerated.

  Ruthie flicked the reins again. Buttercup increased her speed.

  The car swerved around the buggy and braked to a stop.

  She drew back on the reins. The mare stopped short and balked.

  “Easy, girl.”

  Ruthie’s chest constricted. The driver’s door opened and a man stepped out. He was tall and muscular and dressed in black with a woman’s stocking over his head.

  She leaped from the buggy and started to run.

  He ran after her.

  She raced toward the woods that edged the roadway, then slipped in the rain-drenched soil but continued on.

  “No!” she moaned. When she glanced back, her heart jammed her throat. He was right behind her.

  She entered the woods, jumped over a fallen log and kept running.

  His heavy footfalls sounded behind her.

  Her side ached. Branches scratched her arms and snagged at her dress. A root caught her foot. She flailed her arms to keep from falling.

  He grabbed her shoulder. She tumbled to the ground.

  He kicked her ribs. The air whizzed from her lungs. She tried to crawl away. Her bonnet and kapp flew off. He grabbed her bun and yanked on her hair. She screamed in pain.

  “Why were you running away from me?” he demanded.

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “I want your land.”

  “Are you with Prescott Construction?”

  “They wanted to buy the land that belongs to me.” He jammed a thumb against his chest.

  “What?”

  His sleeves were raised, exposing a tattoo that covered his skin and scratches around his wrists on both arms.

  “I told you to leave,” he said. “Your father wanted the farm to stay in the family. He thought you would run off with that boyfriend of yours.”

  “My father is dead,” she said, confused by the man’s ramblings.

  “He wrote his will ten years ago, thinking you would abandon him. Our parents divided the land between your father and me when all of it should have gone to me. I’m the youngest. That’s the Amish way. But they didn’t trust me to farm all the land so they gave me a smaller, rocky portion and gave your father the land along the river.”

  He ripped off the stocking.

  She startled, recognizing her father’s brother. “Uncle Henry? Datt said you two had reconciled.”

  He laughed. “I begged forgiveness for my transgressions and for leaving the faith. I told your father we needed to be family again and that I would care for the land after you left if anything happened to him.”

  “I do not understand what you are saying.”

  “Your father said you were in love with Reuben Schlabach’s son. He thought you would leave the farm and the Amish way of life so he had a will drawn up. You were to inherit the farm upon his death, but if you left the property, the land would automatically go to me.”

  “My datt thought I would abandon him?”

  “Because you loved the Schlabach boy.”

  “But I did not leave with Noah.”

  “Yet the will remains. That’s why I wanted you to leave. With you gone, the land would pass to me. I agreed to sell it to Prescott Construction, but today, I learned the foreman planned to double-cross me. He said he could buy the land on his own and didn’t need me. Now he’s out of the picture.”

  “You killed Brian Burkholder.”

  Her uncle sneered. “I made it look like Zimmer, the assistant foreman, killed him.”

  “I do not believe what you are saying,” she countered, hoping her prideful uncle would reveal more information.

  “The foreman and assistant foreman had argued recently,” he told her.

  Ruthie’s ploy had worked, as he continued to talk.

  “I borrowed Zimmer’s red truck to make it seem like he was coming after you,” he said.

  Ruthie egged him on. “So you planted the murder weapon in his pickup?”

  Henry nodded. “My plan worked. Law enforcement arrested him. He’ll stand trial and go to jail, while I sell your land directly to Mr. Castle for far more than the foreman planned to give me.”

  “You do not care about the farm staying in the family. You only care about yourself.”

  “I gave you an opportunity to leave the mountain, but you were too stubborn. Now you’ll have an accident on your farm that will take your life. The river is rising. How tragic if you die in the flood.”

  “No!”

  “Get up. We’re going back to my car.”

  “I am not going anywhere.”

  “You will unless you want me to harm Andrew.”

  Her blood froze. “Do not hurt my child.”

  He jerked on her arm. She stumbled to her feet.

  “If you do what I say, the boy won’t be harmed.”

  He tugged her arm behind her back. She gasped. The pain seared along her spine.

  “You do not know where to find Andrew,” she insisted.

  “Don’t be a fool. You can’t hide
anything from me, including your son. I’ve got him, and you won’t be able to find him. Unless you cooperate.”

  Her heart nearly broke. “I will do whatever you say, but do not hurt Andrew.”

  He shoved her through the underbrush to where his car was parked and grabbed rope from the backseat. Working quickly, he tied her hands and feet and shoved her into the trunk.

  “No, please. I will not cause a problem. Do not leave me in here.”

  “Just for a short while.”

  He slammed the trunk closed.

  Her heart pounded nearly out of her chest.

  She heard the creaking of the buggy. Was he hiding the rig in the wooded area? Few people traveled the road to Mattie’s house. If the buggy was out of sight, no one would know she had been captured.

  Noah was at the hospital waiting for her return. Mattie was at her house. How long would it be until someone realized she had disappeared?

  Heart in her throat, Ruthie felt the engine start and the car begin to move.

  If only Noah would come to find her, yet with the buggy out of view, he would never know what happened.

  She raised her legs and kicked, trying to force open the trunk, but it held and she remained locked in darkness. Tears burned her eyes and her heart broke thinking she might never see her boys and Noah again.

  * * *

  Simon slept fitfully. Each time he woke, he asked for his mamm.

  Noah glanced at his watch. Ruthie hadn’t been gone long, but he was concerned. Soon after she left, the sky had turned dark and a terrible storm had unleashed its fury.

  He should have insisted on driving to Mattie’s farm while Ruthie stayed with Simon. Although as upset as she had been about Andrew, she probably wouldn’t have agreed.

  Noah had thought getting away from the hospital for a short time would be good for her. Now he envisioned her soaking wet and struggling to keep the buggy on the road.

  Once she arrived at her aunt’s house and found Andrew doing well, he hoped she would remain there until the storm passed.

  Noah checked the weather app on his phone. Rain was expected to continue well into the night.

  Simon woke again. “Where’s Mamm?”

  “She went to Aunt Mattie’s house to check on Andrew. She will return soon.”

  Simon glanced at the window and saw the downpour. “I worry she will have trouble in this storm.”

  Noah was worried, too.

  Please, Gott, he prayed. Protect Ruthie and keep her safe.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The car stopped. Ruthie pulled up her legs, ready to strike. When the trunk opened, she kicked her uncle in the chest. He yanked her up and shoved her out of the car. A sharp piece of metal dug into her arm. She gasped and tried to butt him with her head.

  “You never give up, do you? But you can’t outsmart me.”

  “Where is Andrew?”

  “I won’t tell you.”

  “You are hateful.”

  He laughed. “You should have cooperated and left the mountain so I wouldn’t have to use force.”

  “Why does Mr. Castle want the land?”

  “Your farm and the Schlabach property sit at the source of the river. Redirecting the water at your end will send the river down a northern valley.”

  “So Castle Homes can have water to fill the lake, but what happens if the river cannot be diverted?”

  “I can make it happen once the land is mine, but time is running out. Castle needs the lake filled by next week. I agreed to provide the water. If you hadn’t delayed, I would already have the detour completed and the money in my bank account.”

  “You are hurting the farmers south of town who rely on the river.”

  “That’s not my problem.” He untied her legs but kept hold of her arm and shoved her forward. “Now get going into your house.”

  Ruthie stared at the churning river that had started to overflow its banks.

  She thought back to her youth when the river had flooded and water had come into the house. She feared it would happen again. If only she could overpower the man and escape his grasp.

  Where was Andrew? She would do nothing to bring harm to either of her sons. She would rather die herself than have anything happen to her boys.

  * * *

  Noah became increasingly concerned about Ruthie as the storm continued to pummel the area. Lightning cut through the sky and thunder roared.

  He took Simon’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. My head and stomach no longer hurt.”

  “Can you stay alone here at the hospital for a while? I need to drive to Aunt Mattie’s house. Your mother went there to check on Andrew. She probably hasn’t returned due to the storm. I’ll bring her back in my truck.”

  “I will be fine. Do not worry about me.”

  “You’re a good boy, Simon. Your mother’s proud of you and so am I.”

  He smiled and Noah noticed a brightness in his eyes, which was encouraging.

  “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

  “Be careful, Noah. This storm is bad.”

  He stopped at the desk to inform the nurse he was leaving.

  “I’ll keep checking on Simon,” she assured him. “I have ice cream that I’m sure he would like for a snack.”

  Noah thanked the nurse, then hurried outside and ran to his truck. His clothes were drenched by the time he slipped behind the wheel. He shoved the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot as the rain intensified. The day turned dark as night and thunder rumbled overhead.

  His cell rang. He hit speed dial and turned the phone to speaker. Deputy Warren’s voice.

  “We hauled in that guy who lived in the woods and returned Mrs. Eicher’s letter the day you visited the library.”

  “I told you Ruthie and I saw him yesterday at the Castle Home site. He’s working for one of the painters.”

  “And claims he’s renting a room and plans to make a better life for himself.”

  “You don’t believe him?” Noah asked.

  “I wasn’t satisfied with some of Zimmer’s responses. He’s still being detained, but I’m not certain we’ve got the right guy.”

  “You think the man in the woods could be the killer?”

  “I’m not sure, that’s why I wanted to talk to him. He saw you and Mrs. Eicher heading to the foreman’s trailer yesterday. He also saw the red truck racing along the lake road soon after you and Mrs. Eicher passed by.”

  “Did he identify Zimmer as the driver?”

  “That’s the thing. He’s seen the assistant foreman on the building site, but Zimmer wasn’t driving the truck. Another man was. An older guy. Early fifties, who sometimes hauls gravel for Castle.”

  “Are you saying Zimmer isn’t the killer?”

  “I’m saying there could be someone else we need to find. Be careful.”

  Noah disconnected and prayed again—the prayer he had continued to say since he had left the hospital.

  “Protect Ruthie, Lord, and keep her safe.”

  Noah was worried. He had to find Ruthie. He had to find her now.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Ruthie struggled against the ropes around her hands and waist that held her bound to a kitchen chair. Her uncle had gone back to his car. The storm had grown worse, and she knew the water had to be rising higher. Her only hope was to free herself and escape while he was outside.

  Using all her energy, she scooted the chair back toward the cabinet where she kept her cooking utensils. If only she could open the drawer, grab one of the knives and cut the ropes.

  Between the booms of thunder, she listened for footsteps on the porch, then shoved the chair back again and again. Her legs ached with the effort. She glanced over her shoulder. A little farther and she would be near enough to try to open the d
rawer. If only she could.

  Again, she inched the chair back, seeing the scratches it made on the floor. Nothing mattered except getting free. As unstable as her uncle acted, she knew he would never let her go.

  She scooted back again. The chair was close. She raised her arms, tied behind her, and grasped the knob on the drawer, then tried to pull it open. She groaned. The chair was too close.

  She inched the chair away from the counter, then raised her hands again. This time the drawer opened.

  Pulling in a lungful of air, she stretched her arms even higher to grab one of the knives. Her fingers latched onto a handle. She lifted it out only to have it drop to the floor.

  Discouraged, she glanced down. A spoon. Not what she needed.

  She tried again, and a wave of euphoria swept over her as her fingers touched the sharp blade of a knife. She almost cried with relief when she pulled it free.

  Working quickly, she turned the knife in her hands and rubbed the blade against the rope with a back-and-forth motion.

  The blade nicked her finger. She gasped and repositioned it. The rope was thick and the knife dull, but she continued trying.

  Outside, the storm bellowed. Lightning illuminated the darkness.

  Footsteps sounded on the porch.

  Frantically, she hacked at the rope.

  The door opened. Her uncle stepped inside, carrying a briefcase, and glanced at her. His faced twisted. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.” She tucked the knife against her arm.

  He grabbed the chair and turned her around.

  “Aren’t you clever?” He jerked the knife from her hand. The blade scraped her wrist.

  “Where is Andrew?” she demanded.

  “If you obey me, he won’t be hurt.”

  “Is he here at the farm? The river is rising. Do you have him in one of the outbuildings?”