Undercover Amish

AMISH COUNTRY REFUGE

After Hannah Miller’s mother is murdered and her sisters go missing, someone comes after her. Now the only way she can survive is to entrench herself in an Amish community...and rely on Lucas Grant, a former police officer who is planning to join the Amish faith, for protection. But finding refuge for Hannah—disguised as Plain at a secluded inn—pulls Lucas back into his old life. And when Lucas discovers the criminals after them may be the people who killed his partner, the mission to take them down becomes personal. With the assailants closing in, though, can Lucas stop them...and finally put his past behind him to start an Amish life with Hannah?

“He’s behind us, Lucas!” Hannah said, fear in her voice.

“We’ll be okay,” Lucas promised as he drove faster.

Tears sprang to her eyes as memories gripped her. She couldn’t escape, not from the man in flannel who kept coming after her, not from her mother’s hateful words, not from the mistakes she had made when it came to her heart.

“He’s gaining.” Hannah watched the car draw even closer.

The driver turned on his bright lights. The reflection flashed in Lucas’s eyes, blinding him momentarily.

“There’s no getting away from him.” Fear ate through her gut. She clutched the console with one hand and the dashboard with the other, trying to steady herself as the car bounced even more over the pitted roadway.

“Hold on,” Lucas warned as he maneuvered the car around the broken asphalt. “A small dirt road veers to the right around the next curve. We’ll pull off there.”

“He’ll follow us, Lucas. We’ll be sitting ducks.”

The road ahead went dark as they rounded the bend.

Fear gripped her anew. “What happened?”

He glanced at her. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. That’s a promise.”

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed Undercover Amish, Book 2 in my Amish Protectors series that follows Book 1, Amish Refuge. Attempting to find her missing sisters places Hannah Miller in the middle of a human-trafficking ring, and the only one who can help her is Lucas Grant. The former cop left the Savannah police department eleven months ago. Since then he’s been working for a kindly Amish innkeeper and is ready to join the Amish faith, but when Hannah’s life is in danger, he knows Hannah is more important than his future. The problem is Hannah can’t trust anyone involved in law enforcement, especially a handsome guy who harbors a dark secret that could threaten not only her safety but also her heart.

I would love to hear from you. Email me at debby@debbygiusti.com or write me c/o Love Inspired, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007. Visit me at www.DebbyGiusti.com and at www.Facebook.com/debby.giusti.9.

As always, I thank God for bringing us together through this story.

Wishing you abundant blessings,

Debby

DEBBY GIUSTI is an award-winning Christian author who met and married her military husband at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful children and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of mystery and suspense that touch the heart and soul. Visit Debby online at debbygiusti.com, blog with her atseekerville.blogspot.com and craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com, and email her at Debby@DebbyGiusti.com.

Undercover Amish

Debby Giusti

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Praise be to the Lord,

for He has heard my cry for mercy.

The Lord is my strength and my shield;

my heart trusts in Him, and He helps me.

My heart leaps for joy,

and with my song I praise Him.

—Psalms 28:6–7

To My Husband—My Hero

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

ONE

“Hey, lady, that woman on TV looks just like you.”

Hannah Miller ignored the wizened old man with the scruffy beard and bloodshot eyes, who undoubtedly was talking to her since she was the only woman in the gas station. Instead of responding, she handed her credit card to the attendant behind the counter. “Twenty dollars on pump four.”

Averting her gaze from not only the older man but also the cluster of guys ogling the model on the cover of the latest edition of a men’s sports magazine, she squared her shoulders, raised her chin and hoped she looked more confident than she felt. A truck stop off the interstate was the last place Hannah wanted to be in the dead of night, but she needed gas. She also needed to find her sister Miriam and to learn the details of her mother’s death as well as the whereabouts of her youngest sister, Sarah, who had disappeared along with Miriam.

Refusing to be deterred, the old guy with the beard pointed to the flat-screen TV hanging on the wall. “Check it out, lady.”

As much as she didn’t want to respond to his comment, she couldn’t stop from glancing at the television. Her heart lurched and a tiny gasp escaped her lips. Her middle sister’s face stared back at her from the thirty-two-inch screen.

A reporter, holding a microphone, stepped toward Miriam as the news video continued to play. “Ms. Miller, do you have any comment about the man who murdered your mother?”

“No comment.” Miriam pushed past the reporter and climbed aboard a Gray Line bus.

“The suspected killer is dead,” the man with the mike continued, “along with a deputy sheriff who was involved in Leah Miller’s death. Now her daughter Miriam is leaving Willkommen. A spokesperson for the mayor’s office said the tragedy is an isolated incident. The crime rate in the town and surrounding Amish community is low, and tourists shouldn’t be discouraged from visiting the area.”

The video ended and the late-night news anchor returned to the screen. “That footage, shot six weeks ago, is the last taken of Miriam Miller, although there is speculation she returned to Willkommen and is hiding out in the North Georgia mountains. The police now suspect the carjacking that claimed Leah Miller’s life could be tied to the disappearance eight months earlier of Rosie Glick, an Amish girl believed at the time to have run off with her Englisch boyfriend.”

Hannah’s heart pounded and a roar filled her ears. Seeing the news feed made the information she’d learned about her family only hours earlier even more real. She desperately needed space to recover her composure, but the insistent bearded man sidled closer.

“’Spect your last name must be Miller.” He raised his voice. “Except for your blue eyes, you look so much alike that you’ve got to be kin to that woman on the news whose mother was killed. Gunned down in a carjacking was the story I heard.”

Hannah pursed her lips and hoped her icy glare would convince the attendant who still held her credit card not to divulge her name. Evidently the kid behind the counter was smart enough to pick up on her cues. He returned her card without comment.

She glanced at the group of men near the magazine rack who had stopped perusing the cover model to stare at her. Feeling totally exposed, she returned the credit card to her wallet, all the while her neck tingled and heat seared her cheeks.

One of the men, dressed in a blue flannel shirt and navy hoodie, shrugged out of the group and hurried outside. If only the other men would leave, as well. Not that they were doing anything wrong, but the last thing Hannah wanted was to call attention to herself.

She tucked her wallet into her purse, grabbed the sales receipt and hurried into the ladies’ room, needing a private place to come to terms with what had happened. Her head throbbed and she fought to control the tears that burned her eyes. Her mother was dead, Miriam was gone and her younger sister Sarah had disappeared. When Hannah had left home three years ago, Sarah had just turned eighteen.

Deriding herself for her insensitivity to her family’s need, Hannah hung her head in shame. Why hadn’t she tried to contact them in all that time? In spite of the angry words exchanged the night she’d left and her fear that law enforcement had been called in, Hannah should have been the better person and made an attempt to reconnect. For so long she’d blamed her mother and Miriam. Now they were gone from her life and her heart ached too much to blame anyone but herself.

Hannah had been selfish and thinking of her own needs, not the good of the family. Although the three girls raised by a flighty, self-absorbed mother hardly deserved the name “family.” The disjointed reality of their dysfunctional life had, at times, seemed anything but close-knit or loving.

Plus, the old man was wrong. Any resemblance she had to Miriam was slight. After what she had learned the night she’d left home, it was no wonder she had always felt like an outsider. The accusation and the memory of the secret her mother had revealed remained an open wound.

The last thing she’d expected to find today on her cell phone was Miriam’s garbled voice mail. Her sister’s heartbreaking message—at least what Hannah could decipher—had been almost too much to bear.

According to the television footage, Miriam hadn’t been seen in Willkommen since she’d boarded the bus six weeks ago. The possibility of finding either sister seemed remote, yet Hannah wouldn’t give up her search until she found Miriam and Sarah.

Needing to get back on the road, Hannah splashed cold water on her face, wiped it dry with a paper towel and hurried to her car, grateful that the older, bearded guy, now chatting with the men by the magazine rack, failed to notice her departure.

Nearing her car, Hannah sensed she wasn’t alone and turned to see the man in blue flannel. He glanced at her through narrowed eyes before he opened the door to his black Tahoe and settled into the driver’s seat. Something about the guy chilled her blood. Was it his bushy brows and pensive stare or his long hair pulled into a ponytail? His jeans and work boots were crusted with Georgia clay, making him look like he belonged on a backhoe instead of in the well-detailed SUV.

Unnerved by the man’s penetrating gaze, she unscrewed the gas cap, inserted the nozzle and began pumping, all the while watching the guy pull his black SUV onto the roadway, heading toward the highway. For whatever reason, she felt a sense of relief.

Once her tank was full, she slipped behind the wheel of her small, four-door sedan and turned left toward Willkommen. Surely the town couldn’t be too far away.

The road was windy and narrow and angled up the mountain. A sign for Pine Lodge Mountain Resort caught her attention. Closed For Renovation read the small banner that hung over the larger placard.

A light drizzle began to fall. Hannah flipped on the windshield wipers and squinted into the night. If only visibility was better. The temperature dropped as the elevation increased. She upped the heater, but even with the warm air blowing straight at her, she still felt cold and totally alone.

Usually she welcomed solitude. Tonight, she found the night too dark and eerie. Had it been along this road where her mother had been killed?

Her gut tightened and another tide of hot tears burned her eyes. She blinked them back, swallowed the lump that filled her throat and focused even more intently on the narrow mountain road.

A warning light flashed on her dash. She leaned closer and tapped the glass, unsure of what was wrong. Her heart pounded as she watched the temperature gauge rise. She clicked the heater off but the needle continued to climb.

She groaned, pulled to the side of the road and killed the engine. Staring into the darkness, she gulped down a lump of fear. She was too far from the gas station to walk back, and she hadn’t passed another car for more than twenty minutes. If only someone would happen along.

“Lord—” she bowed her head “—I’m just starting on my walk of faith, but I trust You’re with me. Send help.”

She glanced up to see headlights in the rearview mirror.

“Thank You, Lord.” She exited her car, grateful when the vehicle pulled to a stop behind her sedan. A man stepped to the pavement. Hannah squinted in the glare from his headlights and put her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes. Something about the guy stirred her memory. He neared and her pulse ricocheted as she recognized the blue flannel shirt.

His car had been headed for the highway when he’d pulled out of the gas station. Why had he turned around?

“Looks like you’ve got a problem.” His voice was deep with a hint of Southern twang.

“You’re right about a problem,” she replied, keeping her tone even and hoping he didn’t hear the tremble in her voice. “My engine seems to have overheated.”

“Mind if I take a look under the hood?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Only Hannah wasn’t sure about anything, especially the strange man with the ponytail.

“You wanna pop the hood?” he asked.

She tugged on the release and then stood aside as he peered into the engine.

“Looks like you’ve got a hole in your radiator.”

“But how—?”

“No telling, lady. Willkommen’s not far. I’ll give you a lift.”

An overwhelming sense of dread washed over her. “If you could send someone from a service station, I’d prefer to stay with my vehicle.”

“There might not be another car along for hours,” he cautioned.

Wary of his advice, she held up her hand. “If you could send help, I’d be most grateful.”

“I can’t leave you out here.” His smile seemed more like a sneer. “Come on, lady. I won’t hurt you.”

“I never said you would.” She stepped back from the car and from the man whose lips suddenly curved into a seductive grin.

Her pulse raced. Fear threaded through her veins.

He moved closer and held out his hand. “Sure you wouldn’t like a ride to town?”

“No, thanks.”

“Come on, honey.”

She wasn’t his honey, nor did she like the tone of his voice.

Flicking her gaze over her shoulder, she eyed the thick forest that edged the roadway. Would it provide cover? Enough cover?

He stepped closer and reached for her hand.

She drew back. “What do you want?” she demanded.

“Information. That old guy at the gas station was right. You’ve got to be related to the woman on the news.”

Hannah shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He retrieved his cell from his pocket and pulled up a photo. “This is the woman. You look just like her.”

Hannah peered at the picture of her sister and fought to control her emotions, seeing Miriam’s bruised forehead and her matted hair.

The lewd man stepped closer. “She left Willkommen weeks ago. Some folks say she returned. If so, I need to find her.”

“I...I can’t help you.”

His face darkened. “Look, lady, I’m working with the police. They need to question her.”

She didn’t believe him, but instead of arguing she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Why don’t you just climb in your car and return to town?”

The finality of her tone must have convinced him she wouldn’t change her mind. He started to step back but then lunged for her. “Where is she? Where’s Miriam?”

Hannah screamed. He grabbed her arm. She slipped out of his hold and ran into the woods. The tall pines blocked the moonlight and darkness surrounded her like a pall.

She tripped, righted herself and ran on.

His footfalls came after her, drawing closer.

She increased her speed, not knowing where she was headed or what she would find.

Lord, save me.

A clearing lay ahead. The moon broke through the dark cloud cover, bathing the rolling landscape in light that would mark her as an easy target if she continued on. She angled away from the clearing and forged deeper into the forest. Stumbling over a branch, she threw out her hand to block her fall. Her fingers brushed against a ladder.

She felt the rungs and stared up into the night, seeing the faint outline of a platform at least twelve feet off the ground.

Movement in the brush warned of the man’s approach.

Hannah scurried up the ladder and climbed onto the platform. Lying down, she placed her ear to the floorboards and worked to keep her breathing shallow. Even her labored pull of air could alert him to her whereabouts.

The guy ran straight ahead into the clearing. Before the moon passed behind the clouds, Hannah could make out his features. Why was the guy interested in Miriam?

Dear God, don’t let him find me.

Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would surely shake the platform.

The man backtracked. He stopped at the foot of the ladder. The platform swayed as he stepped onto the first rung, then the second and the third.

She was trapped at twelve feet above ground and about to be found out by a man intent on doing her harm.

Be still, she chastised her heart, ricocheting in her chest.

She could hear his raspy breath as he stopped his climb and remained poised halfway up the ladder.

“Where...are...you?” he demanded, his voice low and menacing. “I know you ran this way, but I don’t see you anywhere.”

A lump filled her throat. In half a second he would scramble to the top, grab her and—

She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming.

Leaves rustled behind the stand as if someone or something was scurrying through the fallen debris, heading back toward the parked cars.

“I’ve got you now,” he whispered, sounding jubilant. In a flash, he climbed down the ladder and ran to catch up to whatever squirrel or possum or raccoon that had saved Hannah, at least for the moment.

Over the roar in her ears, she could hear him disappear into the night. Opening her mouth, she gulped air and trembled from the fear that had wrapped her tightly in its hold.

Thank You, God.

She lay still for a long time, listening to the forest and allowing her anxiety to calm. Breathing in the serenity of the moment, she closed her eyes and, at some point, drifted into a light slumber.

With a jerk, she awoke. Rubbing her neck, she started to sit up. Just that quickly, the sound of footsteps returned. Her gut churned and she bit her lip to keep from moaning in distress.

After all this time, why was he coming back?

Again, she flattened her body against the platform, willed her heart to remain calm and blinked back hot tears that stung her eyes.

This time he would find her. He neared, then stepped onto the ladder, one foot, then another and another as he climbed higher.

Faintly in the distance, she could hear the rev of a car engine as a vehicle headed down the mountain, but all she could think about was the man on the ladder.

He stopped for half a second, then raised a rifle and laid it on the wooden deck.

Her chance. Her only chance. She grabbed the weapon and pointed it straight at the wide-brimmed hat and full face that appeared over the edge of the platform.

* * *

A sliver of moonlight peered from between the clouds as Lucas Grant climbed over the top of the ladder onto the deer stand. Just that fast, his heart stopped, seeing the woman staring at him wide-eyed. Her long hair and oval face made him think of Olivia.

Then he saw the rifle—his .30-30 Winchester—aimed at his gut.

“Put the gun down, lady, before one of us gets hurt.”

“Who are you?” she demanded, her gaze wary and tight with fear. Although she squared her shoulders and raised her jaw, the hint of uncertainty was evident in her voice.

“Lucas Grant. This is my property. My deer stand.” He let the information settle for half a second then added, “Seems you’re trespassing. So, if you know what’s good for you, ma’am, you best hand over my .30-30.”

He pursed his lips and pulled in a breath as she hesitated longer than he would have liked.

“I won’t hurt you, ma’am, and I don’t aim to do you harm.”

She tilted her pretty head, wrinkled her brow and looked at him through what appeared, even in the dim moonlight, to be troubled eyes.

“You’re Amish?” she asked, the surprise evident in her voice.

He glanced down at the black trousers and blue shirt, knowing it was the suspenders that made her come to that conclusion, along with the wide-brimmed felt hat and the black outer coat that hung open.

“I work at an Amish bed-and-breakfast,” he said, unwilling to provide more information.

Her brow wrinkled even more. “So you’re not Amish.”

He shrugged. “Call me Amish in training.”

“What?”

He held out his hand. “Ma’am, let’s get rid of the weapon and then we can make our introductions.”

Instead of reassuring the woman, his comment seemed to have the opposite effect. She gripped the barrel more tightly and inched her finger even closer to the trigger.

Not where he wanted it to be.

She leaned forward, her brow raised. “Did you have anything to do with the man at the filling station?”

He took off his hat and raked his hand through his hair, trying to follow her train of thought. “What filling station?”

“Just off the highway. I stopped for gas and directions. A man followed me.”

Some of the pieces were falling into place. “That’s why you climbed the deer stand.”

Her shoulders slumped and her eyes glistened with what he imagined were tears.

“Ma’am, I’d never hurt a lady. You don’t have to worry. I won’t hurt you and, if you give me a description of the man who came after you, I’ll notify the local authorities.”

“The Willkommen police department?”

He shook his head. “It’s a county-run sheriff’s department, although Sheriff Kurtz is in rehab, recovering from a gunshot wound. One of his deputies is holding down the fort, so to speak.”

“Crime must run rampant on this mountain.” The sarcasm in her reply was all too evident.

“You’re not from this area?” he asked, hoping to steer the conversation onto a more neutral topic.