She witnessed a crime

Can an agent in disguise keep her safe?

After Amish widow Katie Schwartz’s search for her reclusive brother results in a shooting and her finding a cryptic message, she must rely on federal agent Adam Troyer to shield her. But, undercover as a Plain man, can Adam save her brother’s life and protect Katie? Trusting the handsome Englisch agent is already dangerous...but falling for him could risk everything Katie holds dear.

By sixth grade, MEGHAN CARVER knew she wanted to write. After a degree in English from Millikin University, she detoured to law school, completing a Juris Doctor from Indiana University. She then worked in immigration law and taught college-level composition. Now she homeschools her six children with her husband. When she isn’t writing, homeschooling or planning another travel adventure, she is active in her church, sews and reads.

Also By Meghan Carver

Under Duress

Deadly Disclosure

Amish Country Amnesia

Amish Covert Operation

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Amish Covert Operation

Meghan Carver

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09686-7

AMISH COVERT OPERATION

© 2019 Meghan Carver

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“I have never been in danger before.”

“An ambulance should be coming with the police any minute now. Can you make it?”

Katie moaned. “I do not know. Can we get down now?”

Adam still hadn’t figured out the whereabouts of the shooter. But the alternative, Katie fainting and both of them falling out of the tree, wasn’t any better.

“Sure. Let’s go.” He stepped down a couple of branches and then turned to hold her around the waist and help her down. But with a look of dismay, she stared at her fingers, bloody from her leg wound, her face even whiter than before. He grabbed her around the waist. “Katie?”

Another shot rang out, tearing through the branches around them.

Surely they had been found. That shot had been aimed more directly at Katie.

She stared at him with glassy eyes. Time seemed to stand still in the nanosecond before she closed them.

Then she pitched forward off the branch and plummeted to the ground, her unconscious body pulling him with her.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading! Adam certainly had a struggle, didn’t he? As a child, his family life was torn apart by evil, and he grew up thinking he should never hope for a family because he needed to fight the evil. He thought a family would distract him from that goal. Yet he learned that devoting himself to a family was a fight against evil as well.

Katie struggled with control as so many of us do. Her prayers had become habitual, not a time of true communion with Gott. But in the search for her brother, she realized that Gott is the One who is ultimately in control and she needed to trust Him more. By the time she reached the sawmill, she was ready to admit that many things were out of her power and she needed to pray and leave it in Gott’s hands. He always comes through!

I would be honored to hear from you. You can visit my website at www.meghancarver.com, where you can sign up for my author newsletter, or email me at MeghanCCarver@gmail.com. If you’re on Facebook, I’d like to be your friend at Facebook.com/meghancarverauthor. If you wish to write the Amish way, on good, old-fashioned stationery, you can send it to me c/o Love Inspired Books, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007.

Many blessings to you,

Meghan Carver

I will bless the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth.

—Psalms 34:1

To the Amish friends the Lord has brought into my life recently. I am grateful for your kindness and generosity in answering my questions and opening yourselves to me. You know who you are.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

The steady rhythm of the bicycle did little to calm her nerves. Ominous dark blue clouds propelled Katie Schwartz forward. Faster. Her twin girls, Ruth and Rebekah, were safely ensconced with friends, and the adrenaline pulsing through her cemented her resolve to see this through.

A slight breeze ruffled the leaves, sending a few skittering across the road. But then it died, leaving an unnatural stillness in the hush of the oncoming storm. The only things still fluttering were her skirt around her knees and the ties of her prayer kapp flying behind her. They tickled her legs and her neck, like ants at a summer picnic, but she didn’t dare let loose of the handlebars. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead.

As she rounded a curve, the blue-black clouds chasing her, her bruder’s house and woodworking shop appeared. The white-sided house sat silent, not even the rocking chair on the front porch daring to move. She steered her bicycle around the house and to the barn door.

Should she call out? Announce herself?

What had her bruder been up to? What was keeping him from his family, from her and her daughters? It had been two months since she had seen him, and in their tight-knit Amish community, two months seemed like an eternity. Not even the bishop had been able to compel a meeting with him.

She wanted to call out a greeting, but her voice stuck in her throat before she could form the words.

She leaned the bike against the porch railing and stepped silently to the barn door. Her hair prickled on her neck, and she spun around to scan the nearby fields. By midsummer, the corn was tall enough to hide a man. Was someone there? She surveyed the adjoining field and woods, but the stillness revealed no one. Instead it settled on her shoulders like a heavy cloak. Not a bird or a cicada ventured to sing. She couldn’t hear any animals scampering around or even automobiles on the nearby road.

She knocked on the door, the sound ricocheting around the silence of the yard, and then it swung open under her knock. Katie stepped inside, pausing to let her eyes adjust to the dim interior.

“Timothy?”

The volume of her own voice startled her in the eerie quiet. Yellow light from outside filtered through the rafters, and she closed the door behind her. She rubbed her forearms, but the goose bumps persisted.

A horse snickered from the stall. Wherever Timothy had gone, it wasn’t far enough to take his horse and buggy. The sound of hay scraping on the floor sifted through the quiet, followed by a scurrying sound. She grasped her skirt. Her bruder needed a cat who was a better mouser.

Before she could reach the door to the workshop, the sound of a steady pounding reached her. Or was it footsteps?

“Timothy?” But anxiety’s stranglehold on her throat made it come out as a weak squeak.

She clutched her apron in her damp palms as she inched closer to the door. Lightning suddenly flashed through the window, illuminating the stall, the animal and a pair of black shoes peeking out from under the bottom board. A fistful of hay flew in her direction. She pulled her arms up to protect herself, desperate to stifle a sneeze that tickled her nose. Thunder crashed a split second later, at the same time as the clatter of the back door.

The next moment, all was still again.

Katie rushed to the woodworking room and thrust the door closed. She leaned against it, gulping deep breaths to steady herself, clutching the neck of her dress, her eyes closed in a vain attempt to calm herself. Gradually her heartbeat returned to a rhythm that felt almost normal, and she loosened her grip on the smooth fabric.

She slowly opened her eyes. A small, rectangular piece of paper was staring back at her from the floor near the workbench. As she bent to pick it up, another flash of lightning struck, making the words on the front of the card clearly visible. SOCIAL SECURITY arched in capital letters across the top. The name on the paper was one she didn’t know, and underneath were nine numbers that were meaningless to her.

She had heard of several Englisch laws from which the Amish were exempt. Social security was one of them. Their Amish faith forbade insurance, which was what their bishops said the government program was. So if they weren’t going to benefit from it, they didn’t have to pay into it. She had never had a card that looked like that, and she was fairly certain that her bruder had never had a card like that either. So why was this little piece of paper here, in his woodworking shop?

Another crash of thunder shook the barn, but this time it was paired with a crash from within the barn, as well. Katie jumped back against the door, her fingers releasing the little bit of card. It fluttered to the floor, and she grabbed the knob, jerked the door open, and rushed to the exterior door. She grabbed her bicycle from the side porch of the house, unwilling to stick around and find out who was there.

The memory of the hunting cabin in the woods rose up in her mind as she pedaled hard down the asphalt road. She felt desperate to talk to her bruder, her abdomen clenching from the exertion and a fair dose of fear. The bishop was kind and caring, and Sarah was a gut friend. But there was nothing like family, and with both their parents gone, he was all she had. Perhaps he would be at the cabin they had played in as children. Sometimes Amish woodworkers harvested their own lumber for special projects. In the past, Timothy had also spent a fair share of time there sketching new furniture designs.

A few days ago, some of the Amish teens from her church district had told her that they had seen something suspicious in the woods, but whoever or whatever it had been had disappeared before they could catch up. They thought perhaps it had been hunters, but deer season didn’t start until November.

A fresh ache coursed through her with longing for her husband. If only he were here with her, he could talk to Timothy. Find out what was wrong. Help restore her brother’s relationship with Gott and with his sister and nieces. Of course he would have protected her, too. But she had been tougher than he had realized. Or had that toughness emerged out of necessity and desperation in these last two years since his death?

She pedaled hard into the afternoon’s yellow stillness, replaying the events of the past few months. Timothy had begun acting strangely not long after her husband was killed. A tear coursed down her cheek, and she removed a hand from the handlebars just long enough to swipe it away. Wasn’t life difficult enough already without her husband? That aloneness had been a new sensation and one to which she still hadn’t grown accustomed. But to also lose her bruder, her only remaining family apart from her girls, with his odd behavior? It seemed more than she could bear.

A dirt road veered off the pavement to the right, and with just a few more minutes of concentrated pedaling and praying, she came within view of the cabin. It seemed safer, somehow, to leave the bicycle propped against a tree, where it would be out of sight. From a position where she was concealed behind a bush, she surveyed the area. The eerie stillness had followed her from her bruder’s property, a yellowish haze of the impending storm permeating the clearing. But no one was in sight, and even the squirrels had ceased their chattering.

With a deep inhalation of the scent of pine trees and summer soil, she stepped into the clearing, keeping to the edge until the last moment. Eight paces brought her to the corner of the structure, where she grabbed a wooden crate and placed it in front of a window.

Gingerly she stepped up, clutching her full skirt in one hand and the window trim in the other. Through her shoes, her toes gripped the edge of the rickety crate. Desperation to stay upright and not teeter off sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through her as she swiped a hand across the grimy window of the hunter’s shack. The crate dipped, and Katie grasped the frame of the window again. A splinter of wood pierced her skin, the sting of penetration barely registering as she focused on the task at hand.

“Timothy?” she whispered to herself. “Where are you?”

The boys who lived on the other side of the woods had to be right. They had told her they had seen Timothy going into an old shack in the woods, their description matching this one exactly. It had been months since she had seen her brother, and many more months since that day that had made her a widow and changed the course of their family, but it hadn’t even been a week since she had cried herself to sleep. Even now the familiar tears threatened to blur her vision.

With the crate stabilized, she swiped over the glass again and squinted inside. But all that stared back at her was more grime. Ach, if only she weren’t so short! But at a mere five feet four inches, she knew she needed a step stool for nearly every endeavor, especially for an old cabin elevated on cement blocks and with tiny windows. A bee buzzed around her face, and she waved a hand to shoo it away. The crate tipped again, and she grabbed at the window trim before she could tumble off.

Movement inside snagged her attention, although she couldn’t make out figures. It was like looking through the bottom of a glass bottle, with only large blobs moving around. Voices filtered through the window, one louder than the other. What was going on in there? And was Timothy involved?

“Gott, help!” The whispered prayer flew from her lips heavenward. “Restore Timothy to the only family he has left!” He needed love and rest and plenty of good, nutritious food. He needed the strength within the Amish community, the salvation in Jesus Christ that the bishop preached and the productive life of a man of faith who worked with his hands. He needed family, a cornerstone of any Amish person’s life.

Her nose touched the glass in her efforts to see inside. A face suddenly appeared in the window. It was distorted by the cracks in the glass, but it appeared to be her bruder. A moment later, the face disappeared.

She jumped from the crate and headed toward the corner of the cabin. Now that he had seen her, he had to come out and explain himself and return with her, stopping whatever this clandestine meeting was all about. Yet despite the warm summer air, a chill crept up her arms as she rounded the corner. The sour scent of the humidity in the woods tingled her nose and seeped into her brain, beginning the light pulse of a coming headache. Was she relieved that she had found him? Or was she apprehensive of who he was with and what he was doing? The emotions warred within her.

A man dressed in plain clothing, homespun pants and a light blue shirt stepped out through the door.

“Timothy!” But the wild look in his eyes stopped her from speaking further.

And then she saw it. A gun was pressed into his back. But the man with the weapon didn’t step out.

“Katie! Run! Go!”

She jerked backward, an instinctual reaction to the presence of the deadly weapon. Panic gripped her throat, her mouth suddenly chalky. What should she do? Could she help him? But there was no way she was going to advance any closer to the door and that gun.

“Dabber schpring! Run quickly!”

She stepped backward, her gaze trained on the weapon. With another step, she saw her bruder pulled back inside the cabin. The gun reemerged, and she turned to run.

She was five steps away when the weapon fired, an explosive sound that hurt her ears. She pushed herself farther and faster, but her legs were burning. It seemed to take too many steps to reach the tree line. Voices sounded behind her, louder and harsher, as if they were exiting the cabin. She hiked up her skirt, desperately grabbing at the fabric with her sweaty palms, and crouched low as she continued to run.

Another explosion fired nearby, and a sapling splintered to her right. How close was the shooter? Was he following her? She glanced back over her shoulder to check his position, and her foot caught on something. Air rushed past her as she fell face-first into the leaves and dirt.

The ground slammed into her midsection, forcing the air out of her lungs. As she fought to get a breath, a hand clamped onto her shoulder. She struggled to turn over, but all she could see out of her peripheral vision was what she assumed was the man’s other hand. He held a gun.

That was it, then. This would be the end.

* * *

“Are you all right?” Adam Troyer kept his voice to a low whisper. He glanced back to check the position of the men who had been in the cabin. The one with the weapon continued to advance. Whoever this Amish woman was, he needed to get her out of there. “Can you breathe? Can you run?”

Her answer was a scream.

Oh, that wasn’t good. “Shh, shh. I’m not with them. I’m law enforcement.” Another shot struck a nearby tree. “Come with me if you want to live.”

The screaming stopped as he grasped her upper arm and pulled her to her feet. She grimaced, but if they didn’t hurry, they might both be killed. He broke into a jog, the woman running alongside him, trying to brush dirt and leaves off her skirt with one hand and holding on to her kapp with the other.

“Danki.” The thank-you puffed out with a breath as they hurried further into the woods.

He nodded his acknowledgment. She certainly sounded like a real Amish woman, but was she? It could be that she practiced the accent. Was she an innocent bystander? Or was she in league with whoever was in the cabin, just dressed to look Amish so as not to attract attention?

The sounds of their pursuer crashing through the underbrush grew louder. They would never be able to get away, especially with this woman encumbered by her full skirt and kapp. It was time for concealment.

Adam pulled her toward a thick stand of poplar trees. “I called nine-one-one. It’s the fastest way to get reinforcements here. Right now we need to hide.”

She nodded and stepped in front of him as quickly as she could, a look of panic mingled with determination etching fine lines around her eyes. Scanning the forest growth around them, she whispered without looking back, “We go up.”

It was brilliant. From a tree, not only would they be hidden but he could survey the area and, hopefully, find the man who had chased them from the cabin. A few more steps took them to the base of a thick tree with low-hanging branches.

“Here?”

Katie nodded. “Not for long, I pray.”

But by the time he had holstered his weapon and cupped his hands together to provide a step up for her, she had gathered her skirt tightly around her legs with one hand. With the other, she grasped an upper branch. In a few seconds, she was several feet up the tree. Apparently climbing trees was not a new activity for her.

Adam followed behind until they came to a spot where two thick branches ran parallel and provided a sort of bench for them. He settled her in the seat and then lowered himself beside her. Branches full with leaves fanned around them, so thick that he had to pull a branch aside to be able to peek out. This would do well.

He couldn’t see anyone below, but that didn’t mean it was safe to emerge from their hiding spot. He turned to the Amish woman, her face startlingly close to his in their tight surroundings. “I’m Adam Troyer, by the way.” He kept his voice to a whisper. “Immigration and Customs Enforcement special agent.”

She turned to him. “Katie Schwartz.” Her dark blue eyes flashed in the dimness of their cover as she pierced him with her gaze. “What are you doing here?”

Wait a minute. He was the one who should ask the questions. “Surveillance.” He would answer that one, though, hopefully to build rapport, and then fire his questions at her. From his position earlier, he had seen her approach the cabin, acting suspicious and watching over her shoulder. Yes, she looked Amish. Even sounded Amish. But he had no way of knowing, at this point in time, that she actually was Amish. What if she was part of the criminal ring he was seeking, perhaps sent out for an errand, innocent-looking in her Amish garb, and now she was returning? He would stick close to her until he knew for sure who she was. In the meantime, though, there was no harm in her knowing he was ICE. He would not tell her any more.

“I heard a man in the cabin tell you to run away. Why are you here?” He peeked through the leaves again. Still no one had approached the tree. This was not the time or place to question her, but he could gather a little bit of information. If she was one of them, then she would be arrested. If she wasn’t, then perhaps she had some insider information that would be helpful to the investigation. So much about her seemed suspicious and made the hair on the back of his hands raise up.

“I am looking for mein bruder.” She scrunched her eyes and rubbed at them, a tear squeezing out and running down her cheek. She sniffed, a sound too loud for their concealed location.

A crashing sounded somewhere below, and Adam parted the branches to see the man with the weapon several yards off. He was looking straight ahead, and Adam couldn’t see his face, only the top of his head, which was covered with a baseball cap.

Katie sniffed again, and Adam raised his finger to his lips to shush her.

“Allergies,” she whispered. She wrinkled her nose and held a finger underneath.

Oh, no. This wouldn’t help at all.

In a split second, she tilted her head back as if a sneeze was imminent. Adam grabbed her with both arms and, with his hand on the back of her head, pulled her into his shoulder. Her sneeze was muffled in his shirt, but she instantly pushed away from him. He cast what he hoped was an apologetic look in her direction and shrugged his shoulders, but he didn’t dare speak. A peek between the branches revealed that their hiding space remained secure.

Without knowing how many men were in the cabin or how much firepower they had, he couldn’t take them on all by himself. It was very likely he was outmanned and outgunned, and the best thing to do was wait for local law enforcement to show up. Still, despite the softness of the Amish woman next to him, or perhaps because of it, the hiding place was growing more uncomfortable by the second.

The woman sniffled again, and he pulled her into his shoulder as the second sneeze erupted. He wanted to shush her, but sneezes were uncontrollable. It wasn’t her fault. Plus he didn’t want the man somewhere below to hear him. They were like sitting ducks up here in their perch.

As the shuddering of the sneeze subsided, Katie pushed away. She seemed as uncomfortable as he was. But her push must have been too hard, for she wobbled on the branch, her hands grasping for anything to keep her steady. She finally found traction with one hand on the branch and one hand on his arm. Once settled, she let go and straightened her kapp and her skirt.

“Danki. You have saved me two times.”

Before he could whisper his response, the tree trunk exploded next to him.

“Ach!” Katie cried, her hand flying to her leg, obviously in pain but still trying to keep quiet.

Instincts kicked in, and he grabbed her close and pulled her down, trying to shield her from any other gunshots. Did the shooter know where they were, or was he the type to shoot randomly? Adam peered through the branches, but he couldn’t see a thing.

“Are you hit?” he whispered, but he knew the answer already.

Katie drew her hand away from her leg. There was blood on it. “Is that what has happened? My leg burns terribly.” Tears sprang to her eyes as she clutched the spot on her leg.

“Let me see.” After one more look through the branches, he gently removed her hand from the spot and separated the folds of her skirt. The fabric was torn and bloody around the edges, but the injury was not bleeding profusely. She whimpered in pain as he touched the spot and then gathered the folds of her skirt to apply direct pressure to the wound. “Hold this here. We have to get out of here.”

But was it safe to descend? He gingerly pulled the branches apart, but he couldn’t see anyone. A squirrel chattered nearby. Could that have been what drew the attention of the shooter? At least there hadn’t been another shot. Could Katie wait until law enforcement arrived? If they left the tree now, they could put themselves directly in the path of the shooter.

As Katie applied the pressure, her face grew pale, a sheen of perspiration breaking out over her forehead. “I have never been in danger before.”

Suddenly she didn’t look steady enough to sit on the branches. “An ambulance should be coming with the police any minute now. Can you make it?”

She moaned and clutched her stomach. “I do not know. Can we get down now?”

It wasn’t the best idea, considering he still hadn’t figured out the whereabouts of the shooter. But the alternative, Katie fainting and both of them falling out of the tree, wasn’t any better. Down it would be.

“Sure. Let’s go.” He stepped down a couple of branches and then turned to hold her around the waist and help her down. They stairstepped down to the bottom branch before a loud rustling sounded from brush nearby.

His heart thrust itself against his chest, and he turned back to signal Katie to be quiet. But with a look of dismay, she stared at her fingers, bloody from her leg wound, her face even whiter than before. He grabbed her around the waist. “Katie?”

Another shot rang out, tearing through the branches around them.

Surely they had been found. That shot had been aimed more directly at Katie.

She stared at him with glassy eyes. Time seemed to stand still in the nanosecond before she closed them. Then she pitched forward, off the branch, and plummeted to the ground, her lifeless body pulling him with her.

TWO

The pierce of sirens slowly circled in her mind as she became aware of the trees, the clouds and even the ground spinning around her. She grasped for something to steady herself with so that she wouldn’t fall off. But off what? Where was she?

The sirens stopped, and the buzz of summer insects filled the silence. Something tickled her forehead, and with great effort, she lifted a hand to brush it away.

“Katie?”

Whatever was tickling her sprang back, and she brushed it away again.

“Katie, can you open your eyes?”

It was a low but strong male voice, and she forced her eyes open to find that this man was the one tickling her forehead, brushing and smoothing her hair away with his hand. She closed her eyes again, wanting to lie there and rest. But the man squeezed her shoulder. “Katie, you fainted. Can you wake up? Are you all right?”

Adam. That was his name. The events of the afternoon came rushing back—looking for her bruder, finding him at the cabin, climbing the tree with the ICE special agent.

Her head rested on a soft surface, and she noticed he now wore only a navy T-shirt with his khaki cargo pants. His button-down shirt was gone. He must have used it as a pillow for her.

Where is Timothy? With her abdominal muscles, she pulled herself to a sitting position. The sky and trees began a violent spin around her, and she swayed against Adam. With eyes closed, she leaned against him until the spinning subsided.

Slowly she opened her eyes. “Are we safe now?”

“Yes. The police are here. They found the cabin cleared out.”

“Mein bruder? Timothy?”

“I’m not sure who your brother is, but everyone was gone. I would guess they scattered when they heard the sirens.”

“Who are they? What are they doing here?”

“First let’s get you some medical care. The paramedics are here. Can you make it to the ambulance? They drove off the country road and into the grass, but they’re going to have a tough time getting through the trees to us.” He scanned the horizon behind her.

“Jah, I think so. But will you stay close? Just in case?” It felt like a weak smile that she offered him, but he smiled in return, a kind look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

It seemed a long way through the trees to the spot where the ambulance had pulled up into the clearing. Katie breathed with relief to see that the paramedic was a woman. She looked barely older than Katie, with dark hair knotted into a bun. As she helped Katie lie down on the cot, she smiled warmly, and Katie had instant faith in her.

As Adam leaned against the open door of the ambulance, the paramedic quickly assessed the situation, taking her temperature and blood pressure, as well as asking a dozen or more questions. Then she removed solutions and bandages from various bins and boxes in the vehicle. “Special Agent Troyer was correct. The first bullet grazed your outer thigh. It didn’t go anywhere close to your femur, your upper leg bone. It just skimmed the soft tissue, so I’m going to clean and bandage the wound. You might be hobbling for a week or so, but there won’t be any lasting effects. If you need them, you can buy crutches or a cane from any local drugstore.”

“Praise Gott for His protection.” She closed her eyes for a quick prayer, but when the darkness began to spin, she popped them open again. Gott would hear prayers with eyes open, as well.

Adam had stepped away from the door of the ambulance, but he soon returned with a long, stout stick. He dug out a pocketknife and began whittling one end of the stick.

With a gentle touch, the paramedic cleaned and bandaged her forehead. “You have some minor abrasions, probably from your fall from the tree. They will also heal up with time. I don’t expect you to have any scars.”

“Did I faint? Is that why I am so dizzy?”

“Yes. It’s called vasovagal syncope. Do you faint at the sight of blood?” She nodded toward Adam. “Special Agent Troyer told me you found your injury first by the blood on your skirt.”

Katie glanced at Adam, but he was studying his stick. Surely he was listening. “Nein. Not that I know of. When one of my twins scrapes a knee, I do not like that she is hurt, but the blood does not bother me.”

“Extreme emotional distress is probably your trigger then. You’ve been shot at twice. That makes for a difficult afternoon. In response, your heart rate slowed and your blood pressure dropped. That made you faint.”

The paramedic made it sound so matter-of-fact, but that was her job. Still Katie pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, an effort to wipe away the stickiness of anxiety.

“Would you like to go to the hospital? They can do a more thorough examination there.”

“Do I need to?”

“Not necessarily. It’s completely up to you.”

Concern for her bruder was pushed aside by thoughts of her twins. The sun was slanting lower and lower, and the four-year-old girls must be anxious for her return. Her friend Sarah would take gut care of them, feeding them supper and probably too many treats. But Katie didn’t like to be away too long. A mother needed to be with her children, and children needed to be with their mother. A trip to the hospital would most likely extend into the nighttime hours.

“Danki, but nein. I am sure I will be fine with some rest.” How much would an ambulance cost, anyway? For sure and for certain, it was expensive, a cost with which she did not want to burden the community.

“I’ll take you home.” Adam looked up from his whittling. It wasn’t even a question. It was a statement, and a shiver stairstepped down Katie’s spine. Was it from the richness of his baritone voice or the insinuation that he had more questions for her?

An hour later, with the help of the paramedic, Katie scooted off the cot. A strong twinge of pain shot up her leg from the site of the wound. In the couple of steps toward the ambulance door, though, she determined that she could make it. But Special Agent Troyer was there with hand outstretched, and she willingly leaned most of her weight on him to get out of the vehicle.

Once both of her feet were firmly planted on the ground, Adam held the stick out to her. “It’s a rough job since I didn’t have much time, but I think it will serve its purpose.” His voice sounded apologetic.

She took the walking stick from him and touched the simple spiral handle he had whittled at the top. It fit in her hand perfectly. Without letting go of his arm, she leaned into the cane. It held her weight comfortably. “Danki. You have skill. That is gut.”

Between the cane and Adam’s arm, she hobbled to his vehicle, a large black monster of an SUV called a Tahoe. The Amish Taxi that she used was a simple minivan. She had traveled in a van that had carried fourteen of them from their community in Northern Indiana for shopping in Fort Wayne several years ago. Most likely, vehicles like this had passed her buggy many times on the roads, but she had never noticed. Why would she when she had little use for or interest in cars?

“I’ll get your bicycle.” He left her leaning against the side of the vehicle, retrieved her bicycle from the trees and loaded it into the back. Without breaking a sweat, he returned to her.

At the door, she stared up at the seat. Ach, how would she ever get up that high?

As if he had read her thoughts, Adam leaned in and pointed. “Lean on me to get your good leg on the running board. I’ll help you up.”

A moment later, with Adam lifting on her elbow, she was perched in the SUV. Adam jogged around the front and quickly seated himself behind the wheel. He didn’t start the vehicle, though, but turned to her with his eyebrows scrunched into a questioning look.

Apparently he wasn’t just going to take her home. She would have to answer more questions first. Her heart thrummed within her chest.

“Why don’t you tell me about your brother. What’s his name? When did you last see him?” He tapped one finger against the steering wheel.

From this height and location, she had a clear view of the cabin. Several officers were working at various tasks, including one putting yellow tape around the perimeter. What had Timothy been doing there? She couldn’t imagine, but it hadn’t involved sketching.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but everything began to spin. With her eyes open, it wasn’t much better. Anxiety overwhelmed her, and her hands began to shake in her lap. Her brother was still out of contact, she sat in the vehicle of a law enforcement officer who had saved her from two bullets and she wasn’t sure when she would see her twins again. She grasped one hand with the other, an act of will to stop the trembling, but it only worsened until tears cascaded down her face. She swiped at her cheeks, desperate to get some control over her emotions and be strong for her daughters, but it felt hopeless. Her parents were gone, her husband had been killed two years ago and now she seemed to have lost her bruder, as well.

Was she in custody? What were the intentions of this agent? When would she get to Jed and Sarah’s house to see her twin girls again? With no husband to step in for her, she would have to have a special reliance on the care of Gott. Her leg throbbed, and although the officer was kind enough to make a cane, how would she keep up with the household chores?

Her world was crashing down, and she had no family to which to turn.

* * *

The Amish woman sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, lifting a dainty finger to wipe away a stray tear.

She was lovely, wholesome, innocent-looking. But Adam couldn’t let that influence him. Until he found out exactly what she was doing there and confirmed it with someone reputable, he would consider her a person of interest.

He shifted in his seat to get a better look at her. As he waited for her to begin answering his questions, he noted her light green dress with the white apron, which was soiled from the tree and the shooting. Her dark blond hair was pulled back into a bun, but her kapp now sat askew.

Stray thoughts wandered unbidden through his mind. Where would he be right now if his own father hadn’t rejected his Amish upbringing? Adam knew a little of the Amish from his infrequent visits to his grandparents, but the faith and lifestyle he had seen in them hadn’t saved them from difficult circumstances, including outright rejection and scorn from their own son, Adam’s father.

He shook his head to force himself back to the present task, a responsibility that had nothing to do with his own Amish heritage, a generation removed.

Katie stared out the front window, not blinking, and said, “Mein bruder is Timothy Schwartz.”

Okay, that was a start. Silence stretched between them, but Adam could sit for as long as it took.

“I last saw him on Easter. I do not know where he is or what he has been doing. That is why I was looking for him today.” She paused, but he waited patiently. “I found a social security card in his shop, but I do not know the name on it.”

Adam hid his surprise. He tucked that valuable piece of information away for later examination as he quickly completed a mental calculation. “So, it’s been over two months since you talked to your brother. Isn’t that unusual for the Amish? Unless you don’t live near here?”

“Jah, it is quite unusual. Since I am widowed, I was accustomed to seeing him every day, when he would come to care for my animals. I live close by. I have looked for him many times at his house, but this is the first I came to this cabin.” She gestured toward the back of the SUV, where her bike rested. “One person can travel only so far by bicycle.”

“Do you ride your bike often?” He felt his eyes narrowing into what felt like his customary expression during interrogations, and he quickly forced what he hoped was simply an inquisitive look. He knew from his grandparents that the Amish were not fond of law enforcement, and he didn’t want her to stop talking. At least not until he had all the information he needed.

“Jah, it is easier sometimes than hitching up Molly, my horse. I live over on Five Pines Road, a couple of miles from here.”

“How long have you lived in Northern Indiana?”

“All my life.”

“And you said you were widowed? What about other family?”

“Nein. My daed and mamm died about three years ago, just a few days apart. Daed died of a massive heart attack, quite suddenly. A few days later, Mamm died of a broken heart. That is what the doctor said.” She took a deep breath and stared out the side window, seeming to refocus. “My husband was killed in an accident at work. That was two years ago. Now I only have my twin girls, Ruth and Rebekah. They are four.”

“Where are your twins now?”

“They are with my friend Sarah and her husband, Jed. I left them for a little while so I could go to mein bruder’s house. I needed to talk to him. To find out what struggle keeps him from his family and the church.”

He studied her profile, the drooping prayer kapp, the hair that had escaped and now trailed across her cheek, the fine lines around her eyes. She looked tired, exhausted even. Everything she said seemed genuine, and Adam relaxed in his seat ever so slightly. She may not be in cahoots with the shooter, but she still might be a helpful source of information. “Tell me about Sarah and Jed. Who are they, and how do you know them?”

“Sarah has been a gut friend since she moved here from Lancaster County several years ago. She was a widow also and had a little girl, and we would help each other out. A few months ago, she married Jedediah Miller. He used to be a police officer from Fort Wayne, but now he is Amish. He works at the same sawmill where my husband did.”

He felt a muscle spasm in his jaw, the same one that ticked when he was trying to figure out a case, and he rubbed to soothe it. “If he’s Amish, then there’s no way I could call him. Or does your church allow telephones?”

“Nein. There is a phone shanty not far from their house, but if you are taking me home, you can meet him. I need to pick up my twins, if you are willing.”

“Fine. I need to check in with the sheriff, and then we’ll be on our way.”

He slipped out of the car and closed the door gently, so as not to shake her up further. Katie seemed to be made of tough stuff, but everyone had a limit to their endurance. The slamming of the heavy car door would only add to her jitteriness.

The scene in and around the cabin was intense and busy, but that was the way Adam liked his work. He leaned against the driver’s side door and pulled his pocketknife and a small piece of wood out of his pocket. Whittling helped him think, and right now he especially needed to concentrate. A ring of smugglers out of Chicago had expanded, ICE believed, toward Cincinnati. That would take them right through the Amish communities of Northern Indiana. He hadn’t had much success in his investigation thus far, and now this Amish woman landed right in the middle. What should he think about it? Where did she fit?

“Troyer!” Sheriff Moore, a man with a thick torso and a jovial demeanor, sauntered toward him. The sheriff’s easygoing attitude seemed to be appreciated by the Amish, who apparently had had some difficulty with their last sheriff, but he was a little too laid-back for Adam’s preference. Still, the man was well-liked and got the job done. “Find out anything?” He nodded his head toward Katie in the SUV.

“Not much. You know her?” Adam took a few steps toward the sheriff as he scraped his knife over the little piece of wood. It would soon be a squirrel, a twin to the one that already resided in his pocket.

“No. Haven’t met her yet.”

“She says she’s friends with a Sarah and Jedediah Miller. Says Jed’s former law enforcement from Fort Wayne.”

“Yeah, he’s out of it now. Decided he wanted the plain life.”

“How’d he end up Amish?” Adam could appreciate a lack of complication as much as the next guy, but leaving electricity behind seemed a little drastic. Why couldn’t he just have a sticky bun with his Saturday-morning coffee and old-fashioned newspaper?

“From what I’ve heard, he was working undercover and about to testify against a ring of counterfeiters when he was found out. Had a snowmobile accident, hit his head on a rock and woke up with amnesia. Sarah found him and took care of him. He’s fine now. A real upstanding guy.” The sheriff swiped a hand across his brow and adjusted his hat.

The more he heard, the more Adam thought Katie’s story was legitimate. There didn’t seem to be any other way to explain her presence at the cabin. If her brother was involved in whatever nefarious activity was occurring in the area, she could be a helpful asset. She certainly seemed concerned enough about her brother, despite his wayward ways. He had to take her home anyway, so he’d have a few words with this Jed.

Adam nodded back toward his SUV. “The bullet grazed her leg, so she won’t be riding her bike anytime soon. I’ll take her to her friends’ house to pick up her twins and see if I can get a private word with Jed.”

“He’ll tell you what he can.” The sheriff plucked a long piece of foxtail grass and stuck the stem between his teeth.

“Good. I’d appreciate being kept in the loop with what you find here.”

“We don’t hope for much. So far we’ve pulled a bullet out of a tree trunk. We’ll look for a match, but I’m doubtful at being able to find the weapon. I’ll keep in touch.”

“Thanks.” Adam turned back to the Tahoe, determined to get a little more of Katie’s story from another law enforcement officer, even if he was Amish now.

THREE

As the crow flies, the drive would probably have been only a few minutes, and that certainly would have been safer. But the back roads through the hills and hollows of Northern Indiana Amish country took a bit more of a winding route. Adam found he couldn’t get over thirty miles per hour in most stretches. Slowing down for a couple of buggies didn’t help either.

The painfully slow speed also didn’t help his anxiety at the shooter still being on the loose. Would he come back for Katie? Why was he shooting at her in the first place? Would he go after a law enforcement officer? Some criminals did, and some didn’t. Adam just didn’t know enough about who this shooter might be to be able to determine his probable next move.

He tore his attention from the rearview mirror and checked both side mirrors. Through the drive, all had been clear. As he crested a hill, an Amish homestead came into view.

“There. On the right.” Katie leaned forward as if it would help her get to her children faster, her hand on the cane.

The property wasn’t large, but the whitewashed house was sizeable, the barn a cheerful red. Colorful flowers—marigolds, maybe—dotted the edge of the house and the barn. A large vegetable garden filled a back corner. As he approached, a malamute bounded forward, tail wagging and tongue lolling.

Memories of childhood time spent with Amish grandparents struggled to free themselves from the dusty corners of his mind. His grossmammi with a plate full of oatmeal cookies and a pitcher of warm milk that was fresh from their dairy cow. His grossdaadi sitting on the porch, showing him the finer points of whittling, while his cousins swung from the hayloft. Adam swallowed hard and shoved the memories back to their places. His father’s rumspringa and continuing alcoholism had altered not only his father’s life but the lives of his future children, as well. And after his father’s and brother’s untimely deaths in the automobile accident, those remembrances didn’t deserve the freedom to roam unhindered through his thoughts. The only way to assuage the grief was to maintain his laser-like focus on his job and the justice for victims that he sought every day.

Adam pulled into the lane, and a man emerged from the house, placing a straw hat on his head as he approached the vehicle. Adam opened the car door and hopped out. He smiled as warmly as he could and raised a hand in greeting, palm open and facing out, as he jogged around the front of the Tahoe. The man’s countenance was expressionless until Adam helped Katie down from the SUV. As she emerged from behind the door, a wide smile split the man’s face, and a woman with three girls, all in identical blue Amish dresses and white starched prayer kapps, stepped out of the house.

“Katie, are you all right?”

“Jah, Jed.” She leaned heavily on Adam’s forearm. Grasping the cane, she stepped toward Jed but still held on to Adam’s arm.

The woman who must have been Sarah flew toward them. The three girls followed on her heels, all chattering at once.

“Ach, Katie! Where have you been? You are injured!”

“Mamm! Are you all right?”

“What happened, Mamm?”

Sarah frowned in Adam’s direction and took Katie’s arm from him as twin girls threw their arms around Katie’s waist. Both had the same shade of dark blond hair and the same pert nose, although one appeared to have a few more freckles than the other. Adorable seemed too blasé of a word to describe them.

“Liebchen! My loves!” Katie smiled broadly and shrugged at Adam as she tried to hug both twins with Sarah hanging on. “I will be fine, Sarah. I will tell you everything inside.”

He felt himself begin to trust her a little bit more as he observed Katie’s affection for her girls. She gently pulled her arm from Sarah, and, leaning on the cane, she tucked a stray hair back into one girl’s kapp and then ran her finger down the cheek of the other girl. A smile played about her lips as she seemed to relax. With a reflex honed from training and experience, Adam glanced around the yard and down the lane to make sure all was quiet. Then he stepped toward Jed.

“You must be Jedediah Miller. Sheriff Moore told me you’re retired from Fort Wayne PD.” He extended his hand, and they shook. “I’m Adam Troyer, special agent with Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Homeland Security.”

“Call me Jed. And yes, retired police officer.”

Adam felt his eyebrows scrunch together. “You don’t sound Amish, like Katie and Sarah.”

Jed smiled. “No. Most of my growing-up was in the Englisch world. I just took my vows to join the Amish church a few months ago, so I’m still learning. I imagine it’ll be a lifelong process.” He looked Adam up and down, the smile sliding off his face. “What’s your business here?”

Before Adam could respond, Sarah called from the house. Jed turned to wave and then spun back to Adam. “Before you can answer that, we’re required to head in the house for cookies and coffee. Or tea. Or milk. Whatever’s your pleasure. It’s the Amish way.”

In the house, Adam squeezed into a place at the long table and gobbled down three of the most delicious oatmeal cookies he had ever eaten. A twin leaned on either side of Katie as she told of going to her brother’s house and then to the cabin. All eyes widened at the mention of the gunman, and Jed nodded an acknowledgment to Adam.

“You must leave Ruth and Rebekah here overnight, then.” Sarah leaned forward to run a hand down Katie’s arm. “You will rest better.”

Katie paused before answering. “Danki. That would probably be best for my recovery.”

As he reached for a fourth cookie, Adam’s phone rang, the ringtone a loud gong in the quiet Amish house. “Excuse me,” he said softly and stepped outside the back door before answering.

The late afternoon sun was beginning to cast sleepy shadows across the property, shadows that, to Adam’s way of thinking, could hold danger. But Sheriff Moore’s voice filled his ear, and the best he could do was visually survey the perimeter.

“Yeah, Troyer? We got nothing. You said you wanted to be kept in the loop, but there’s nothin’ there. We pulled the bullet from the tree.”

“I knew that before I left the site.”

“Yeah, and there was nothing worth fingerprinting inside the cabin. Pretty bare in there. All rough wood surfaces, way too porous and too recessed to collect fingerprints. Even if I could find a print, it wouldn’t stick to the lift tape. There’s no way to lift a print in a wooden cabin.”

“So, we got nothing.”

“That’s what I said.”

The door closed behind him, and Adam turned to see Jed step outside. “Thanks anyway, Sheriff.” He pocketed his phone.

“Sheriff Moore is a good guy.” Jed hesitated. “Learn anything you can share?”

“No. Didn’t learn anything at all. I don’t know anything more about what happened today than Katie does, and you know that means the investigation is at a standstill.” Adam couldn’t share anything more with Jed, but he walked slowly around the house and toward the lane, surveying, as Jed fell in step beside him. The night air cooled his skin as he breathed deeply. “You might be able to help, though. What do you know about Katie’s brother, Timothy?”

“Probably nothing more than she told you. He’s a stand-up guy and an excellent furniture-maker. Then, a couple of months ago, he stops coming around. He’s not caring for his sister’s horse anymore, not coming to church services or visiting on the off Sundays. Basically he’s nowhere to be seen.”

“What about his customers? His business?” Adam looked up and down the road and then turned to walk back up the lane.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him to be able to ask him. I know that’s not helpful, but I don’t have any further information. It’s like he just disappeared.”

“But he didn’t leave the community? Quit being Amish? Did he and Katie have a falling-out?” The sun dipped behind the tree line, and the first fireflies of the evening began to flash. Darkness was fine when it worked in his favor and hid him, but it could be deadly when it concealed the enemy.

“No. He’s still around. There’s evidence of that. When I stop by, his dog is obviously cared for. His yard is kept. I’ve even seen wash on the line. But he’s never there.” Jed crossed his arms over his chest, a sign of resignation. “He’s there but not there.”

“So, he knows that you’re coming and takes off?”

“It seems so. I’ve thought of contacting an old buddy of mine in Fort Wayne, but I don’t have anything to tell him. There doesn’t seem to be any evidence of wrongdoing. He just doesn’t come around.”

“You’re still in contact with people from your...former life?” Adam just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of leaving law enforcement to be a farmer or to build furniture, or whatever it was that Jed did to earn his living.

“Sure.”

“How did you ever decide to—”

“Join the Amish church?” Jed chuckled. “I had amnesia.”

“And then you remembered you were Amish?” Adam couldn’t keep the sarcastic tone from his voice. But to give up a career in law enforcement, a job that righted wrongs and fought for justice? He couldn’t understand that.

“No, but as I worked through the difficulties of my loss of memory, including my run-in with the guys who were after me, I realized I’d been wanting a more relaxed and slower pace to my life. I was ready to settle down, spend time raising a family, eat pie.” An easy smile stretched across his face.

It still wasn’t anything Adam could understand, although he begrudgingly admitted to himself that he admired the peace Jed seemed to have. He was ready to move on to the next topic. “What about Katie? All she told me was that her brother is her only family left.”

“That’s probably about all you’re going to get as far as information goes. I haven’t known her long, but Sarah tells me Katie’s husband was killed in an accident at the sawmill. It’s been a struggle for her since, but we help as much as we can. And her brother has always been helpful, until just recently. The Amish take care of each other, especially families.”

“Would she be helpful in the investigation?”

“The Amish don’t like to mix with law enforcement. They keep to themselves as much as they can. Considering what the former sheriff was like, I can’t say I blame them all the time.” Jed shook his head and smiled. “I should say we keep to ourselves as much as possible. It’s only been a few months since I joined the church, and it’s going to take a while to get used to. With Katie, though, I think she honestly doesn’t know anything about her brother. Just give her time. The Amish believe patience is a virtue.”

Adam touched his weapon in its holster, his fingers rubbing on the smooth leather, and scanned the perimeter again. For too long he had been investigating a suspected ring of identity-document smugglers. Counterfeit passports and social security cards had been leaching out of the Chicago area and turning up all over the Midwest. Katie’s brother had been missing in action for two months, there but not there, and now it seemed that someone was willing to shoot at Katie. Patience may be a virtue, but he didn’t have time to wait. The sooner justice could be administered, the better.

* * *

Katie might be Amish but that didn’t mean she was naive. She noticed things. A lot of things. Facial expressions. Unspoken words. Nearly imperceptible gestures. She had clearly seen Adam’s skeptical look in her direction when he had stepped out to take his telephone call. His brown eyes had clouded with uncertainty. The man doubted her, and to some extent she could understand why.

Her own bruder, her only bruder, was a person of interest. What was that phrase? Guilt by association.

But she wasn’t guilty. She was scared and doing her best to trust in the goodness and divine will of Gott.

Katie sipped her coffee and forced herself to make conversation, trying not to stare out the window. Eventually Adam returned, and although he didn’t exactly smile at her, it seemed that his clouds of doubt had cleared. Perhaps whatever private conversation he had had with Jed had satisfied him.

He grabbed another cookie and bit off half. “Ready to go?”

“Jah.” She hugged her twins tightly, cherishing the softness of their cheeks against hers, planting kisses on their foreheads, engraving their cherub faces in her mind’s eye.

As she stood, Sarah gathered the twins to the folds of her skirt. Sarah’s daughter, Lyddie, stood nearby, just a couple of years older and a gut friend to her girls. “It is only for tonight,” Sarah reassured her. “Tomorrow you will be together again.”

After Adam had checked the front yard, she hobbled back to his SUV and allowed him to help her in. Her leg was feeling better, but she still appreciated his assistance, as well as the cane he had whittled. After Katie waved one last goodbye through the window, the vehicle roared down the road.

With Adam’s driving speed, it did not take long to reach home. Of course she had ridden in a vehicle, but Adam seemed to drive much faster than other drivers, with trees and bushes and homes whizzing past at a tremendous pace. As he pulled into her lane, she grasped the door handle to keep herself upright.

When he put the vehicle into Park, she turned to him. His eyes flashed in the dim interior of the vehicle, seeming to reflect the moonlight, and she forced her gaze toward her house and away from him. His handsomeness was not something upon which she should dwell. “Danki, Special Agent Troyer. I have much for which to thank you. Saving my life, whittling the cane, driving me home. You have protected me, and I am grateful.”

He retrieved a business card from his wallet. “If your brother contacts you or you think of anything that might be helpful, can you get to a telephone and call me? Or if your leg does not heal well and you want to get to the hospital, call me and I’ll come for you. Is there a phone nearby?”

Shadows played around his angular features when she glanced at him. “Jah, a couple of houses down the road.” It would not do for her to find him handsome. There was nothing that could come of it. If she ever did remarry, it would be to an Amish man, not a brooding, weapon-carrying Englischer.

He simply nodded and hopped out of the vehicle, jogging around the front to offer her assistance. “I’ll get your bicycle and then wait until you get inside and turn on a light.”

“Danki. Just lean the bicycle against the porch railing.” She stole one last glance at his strong profile. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he called over his shoulder as he parked the bicycle.

She opened the front door, stepped inside and closed the door behind her. By the light of the moon, she stepped toward the propane-powered lamp in the living room, running her hand along the top of the easy chair. If she had come in the back, there would have been a battery-powered lantern at the door. But she hadn’t expected to be dropped off in a government agent’s vehicle after dark.

On her third step, she paused, the skin on her arms rippling into goose bumps. Was someone else in the room? It didn’t feel right somehow, and her heart slammed against her chest. Slowly she turned in a circle, peering into the darkness. The moonlight that had seemed so bright outside suddenly seemed extinguished within the house.

She spied a figure at the back door, and adrenaline spiked through her arteries, her fingers digging into the chair back. But it was only her winter cape hanging on a hook at the back door. Now that warm weather was here for the summer, she ought to store it away.

Her mind was playing tricks on her. That was all. She straightened her apron and inhaled deeply, then took the last few steps to the lamp. With her hand on the knob to regulate the propane, and her other hand reaching for the lighter, a voice hissed at her from the darkness.

“Katie, no.”

As if acting independently, her hands jerked back from the lamp and clutched the bodice of her dress. She knew that voice.

A tall figure stepped out from its hiding place, pressed against an armoire near a particularly dark edge of the living room.

She gasped. “Timothy!” Dizziness threatened her, but she gulped air to fight it.

“Shh.” He grasped her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. A moment later, he pulled away with a quick glance out the back window.

“I have been looking for you. Where have you been? Are you well? Are you in trouble?”

“I cannot stay.” He pulled her hand toward him and pressed a folded piece of paper into her palm.

Instinctually she closed her fingers around it. “Whatever you are involved in, turn yourself in before you are caught. I will help you.”

“I am innocent. Whatever they tell you, believe that.” He paused, the intensity of his gaze drilling into her. “What I do is for you. For the twins.”

A car door sounded from outside, and Katie jerked her gaze toward the front window. Adam had been waiting for her to turn on the lamp. But Timothy’s hands slid away, and with a few long-legged strides, he was at the back door. As if she were made of stone, Katie couldn’t move. Should she run for Adam, tell him she was safe and that she had found Timothy? Or run for her bruder, her only family? Then, without a word, Timothy slipped away.

The corner of the folded paper poked into the flesh of her palm, and she unfolded it and scanned it quickly. It was simply a series of numbers. There was something familiar about the groupings of the numbers, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Whatever it was, it must be important, considering the clandestine method of conveyance.

There was no time to decipher it now. Adam knocked softly at the door. Her heart still pounding, Katie quickly refolded the note and tucked it up inside her prayer kapp. Right or wrong, there wasn’t time now to examine her motives for keeping the secret a little longer, until she had opportunity to figure it out.

She opened the door, and Adam stepped in, scanning the living room. “Are you all right? You never turned on the light.” Then his eyes seemed to stop at the open back door.

“I am fine.” She swallowed hard. “But mein bruder was here. He is gone now. Out the back.” As she spoke, she spied a figure running through the side yard and into the adjoining cornfield.

“Stay here. Light the lamp. Lock the doors.” And Adam was gone, running through the back door and after the figure in the cornfield.

Katie pressed a hand to her chest as if that could slow her heart rate to normal. At least she had seen her bruder, and he had appeared to be well. But what was going on?

At the back door, she grasped the knob to close and lock it, when a man appeared in the shadowed doorway. Forcing down her surprise, she opened the door farther. “Danki for returning, Timothy. It will be better for you if you come forward.”

But as the man stepped through the doorway and out of the shadow, she saw he wasn’t Timothy. This man was taller, bigger, with an unkempt beard and a look of malice in his eyes. A scream stuck somewhere in her throat, and she turned to run for the front. That door was still unlocked. It would be her escape.

But as she turned, the man grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. “It’s not Timothy.” His whisper blew sour breath in her ear. “But I know he was here.”

Katie squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would block out his horrible threats of how he would harm her if she didn’t tell him everything that had just happened. “How did you know we were at the cabin? Did he give you anything? Where did he go?” The man’s hands slid into her apron pockets but came out empty. She pictured the folded piece of paper tucked securely in her kapp but immediately forced it from her mind. She didn’t fight back, but she certainly wasn’t obligated to tell him anything.

He pushed her farther into the house, kicking the door shut behind him.

Herr Gott, help me! The pain from the bullet wound seized her leg, and she stumbled. He cursed her, and she longed to cover her ears. But he held her arms tightly.

Over the sound of his raspy breathing, she heard the door open again and tossed up a quick prayer that her attacker hadn’t heard it. But as quickly as she could utter the words, he let her go and turned toward the sound. Adam rushed the man, barreling straight at him. Together, they fell into a wooden chair. The sound of splintering wood filled the room, along with the struggle of the two men.

Alarm filled Katie. She grasped one hand in the other in a vain attempt to stop her trembling. What could she do to stop this? To restore order to her simple world? But her mind could barely comprehend the fighting in her home, let alone figure out a way to stop it.

With a punch to the attacker’s jaw, Adam subdued the man. Adam jumped up from the floor and drew his weapon, pointing it at the intruder. “Up. On your feet.” Adam’s voice held an austerity that Katie hadn’t heard before. “Now, let’s get some answers.”

The man slowly stood, his hands on his knees as he pushed himself upright. As he straightened, he jerked to the side and grabbed a kitchen chair with both hands. In an instant, the chair was airborne and flying toward Katie.

The room seemed to stand still for a split second, the chair suspended in midair as it hurtled toward her. All breathing stopped. Could this really be happening?

Then all was moving again. She lunged to the right to dodge the chair, placing her weight squarely on her injured leg. Overwhelming pain shot through her body. Her leg collapsed underneath her. As she fell, she glimpsed the two men struggling over the gun, her attacker with his hands on the weapon and turning it to point at Adam.

Her head hit the floor as she heard the gun go off. A moment later, darkness swallowed her.

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