Amish Country Secret Read online

  “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

  “What happened?” Samantha asked, her voice raspy.

  “Tornado,” Micah said, worry for his brother and sister increasing his anxiety. “Let’s get you out of this car.”

  She tried to move then groaned before reaching her hand out. “Patch.”

  Micah checked her forehead. “You’ve got a bad bump. No patching needed.”

  “Patch,” she said again, her voice frantic.

  A dog barked and jumped into her lap.

  “Is Patch your puppy?” Micah asked while he helped her out of the car. The little animal was lean and snarly and also frightened.

  She looked at Micah, her expression full of fear and apprehension. “Yes,” she said. “We’re in trouble and we need your help.”

  She wobbled and fell into Micah’s arms, the puppy shivering between them.

  “You sure do need help,” he said. “That was some storm.”

  The woman moaned again. “Not storm. Him. After me.”

  With over seventy books published and millions in print, Lenora Worth writes award-winning romance and romantic suspense. Three of her books finaled in the ACFW Carol Awards, and her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence became a New York Times bestseller. Her novella in Mistletoe Kisses made her a USA TODAY bestselling author. Lenora goes on adventures with her retired husband, Don, and enjoys reading, baking and shopping...especially shoe shopping.

  Books by Lenora Worth

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Undercover Memories

  Amish Christmas Hideaway

  Amish Country Secret

  True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn

  Deadly Connection

  True Blue K-9 Unit

  Deep Undercover

  Military K-9 Unit

  Rescue Operation

  Classified K-9 Unit

  Tracker

  Classified K-9 Unit Christmas

  “A Killer Christmas”

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Amish Country Secret

  Lenora Worth

  And a man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.

  —Isaiah 32:2

  To those on the front lines—the fighters, the peaceful protestors, the marginalized and the overlooked, the military warriors and the everyday heroes and heroines who have to make the tough decisions. I hope you find refuge in the storm.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from In Need of Protection by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  ONE

  A storm was coming.

  Samantha Herndon had heard the radio reports all day long. Tornado watches, strong winds, possible tornadic damage. Seek shelter, stay safe. But she had much more to worry about.

  Watching someone being murdered kind of outranked even the bad weather. Still in shock, she tried to get that horrible scene out of her head. But how could she? They knew she’d witnessed them killing that helpless homeless man.

  And now he had sent someone after her.

  She kept glancing back into the rearview mirror while a steady shiver moved down her spine. He was coming for her. A shiny black pickup truck had been following her since she’d turned off the main highway. She’d been so careful, but he had ways of finding people. He’d always made that a joke between them. She’d never dreamed she’d get on his bad side.

  Stay safe. She had to do that first. A few more miles and she could finally take a deep breath. That truck was probably going in the same direction.

  So she kept driving, and prayed her old economy car would hold out. She had to get to Campton Creek before night set in. She could hide out there in the world she used to know. They’d never find her there. She prayed she’d gotten away before they’d realized she had escaped. They’d already figured out what she’d done, but she needed to get the evidence to someone who could help her.

  When the tiny dog cuddling a blanket on the seat beside her whimpered, Samantha reached out a shaking hand to the scared little fellow. “It’s okay, Patch. We’ll be safe at Gramma’s house.”

  The little black-and-white spotted dog looked up at her with trusting dark eyes, the black circle around one of those eyes the reason his now-dead owner had named him Patch. A mixed breed of Chihuahua and Jack Russell—a Jack Chi—the little dog had short silky hair and big ears. Samantha had fallen for him the minute she’d found him and recognized him. Patch was a keeper.

  “If I hadn’t found you wandering around, I would have never realized what’s been going on right under my nose,” she said, giving Patch another quick rub on his tiny head.

  Samantha watched the sky, then checked the long road behind her. How had she managed to get caught up in such a web of evil?

  Because she’d fallen for the wrong man. Years ago, she’d left her Amish community to return to her mother’s side, but since then, she’d finished college and become a veterinarian. Some called her weird and some called her softhearted and over-the-top because she cared so much for innocent animals. This time, that caring trait had brought her Patch. It had also brought her face-to-face with the ugly truth.

  She’d been caught between two worlds but she’d always known where her true home was—here with Gramma. Gramma wouldn’t be at the house to meet her this time. Thankful that her gramma was off visiting her sister, Samantha checked the sky and tried to hurry the car along the winding road.

  This trip would make Samantha an interloper, but this was the best place to hide out. He couldn’t find her in her grandmother’s small country home. Because she’d never told him she’d once lived here.

  She looked into all the mirrors. The road behind her was empty. Maybe that truck had turned off. Maybe she was imagining things.

  Patch leaned into her soft touch, some of his anxiety settling. Then his big ears perked up.

  The wind changed and everything went still. Static hissed across the radio. Samantha hit the dash, trying to get the decrepit radio to work. Then she heard the sirens blaring through the little box.

  Tornado warning. And from what she could hear, the storm was passing right over Campton Creek. She glanced in the mirror again and saw her worst nightmare.

  The truck she’d seen earlier was real and the driver was barreling toward her as fast as the storm whirling over them. She saw the driver and another man on the passenger side of the huge vehicle. Had he tracked her from the moment she’d left upstate New York?

  Samantha pushed her car to go faster along the curve of the narrow road that ribboned around the mountainside.

  The wind held her back and the truck behind her came within inches of her vehicle. She made it down the mountain and looked back one last time.

  The truck accelerated and came charging
toward her. She didn’t even have time to brace for the hit.

  Bam! The force jarred her. Patch barked and almost fell off the seat.

  “Hold on, Patch.”

  The big truck came again, harder this time. The hit sent her car spiraling into a spin. Samantha screamed, her hands clutching the steering wheel. When she heard the ominous sound that roared like a runaway freight train, Samantha felt almost thankful for the storm.

  It might just save her from him.

  Checking one more time in the rearview mirror, she gasped when she saw the pickup truck charging toward her again. This time he attempted to knock her car right off the road and into a deep ditch.

  Samantha screamed and prepared for the crash, but suddenly the wind changed and the truck pulled back and to the right.

  Panicked, she glanced in the mirror and watched as the truck behind her careened and trembled, wobbling like a top as it sailed over into the ditch and landed on its side. The wind had pitched the truck off the road.

  Thank You, Lord.

  That was her last thought before her car shifted and seemed to lift up like a toy in a giant’s hands.

  * * *

  Micah King raced to get all the livestock inside the barn and make sure everything was locked down. The wind lifted and twisted the trees in a rage. Big drops of rain hit his face and arms. Small limbs and twigs swirled and swished by, pricking his skin.

  His younger sister Emmie cried out from the house, running to meet him. “Micah, kumm!”

  Micah ran toward the porch, the dark sky swirling around him. “Emmie, get inside. We have to go to the cellar. Where is Jed?”

  “Already waiting by the cellar door,” Emmie replied as Micah lifted her up. “He has supplies ready.”

  His sister’s light weight made it easy, even if she would be twelve years old soon. Her twin brother, on the other hand, was almost as tall as Micah and always spoiling for a fight. At least he knew the tornado drill well enough to prepare.

  Micah had Emmie almost to the back door when they heard a grinding sound. “Go,” he shouted as he settled his sister, then turned to see the twirling vortex coming across the field. “Emmie, go with Jed into the cellar. I’ll be there soon.”

  Another sound cracked against the roar of the angry storm. A crash of metal, a hiss of engines roaring. Then the booming sound of thunder and a collision.

  To his amazement a bright red car came careening through the alfalfa field, tires grinding, gears protesting, chrome and metal flying away. The storm tossed the tiny vehicle like a leaf in the torrid gusts of angry wind and then slammed it down so hard it hit and landed at an odd angle. When he heard screams coming from the car, Micah slammed the door to the house shut and took off running in a sprint against the snarling wind.

  Holding a hand over his eyes, debris passing like shrapnel all around him, he ducked down as the storm continued to increase. The sky roared like a piercing, grinding monster over his head while the sound of metal twisting and limbs crashing to earth thundered against the force of nature.

  He made it to the car and dived to the ground. The tornado hit, hammering him with leaves, limbs, dirt, and bits of metal and timber. A chunk of jagged wood hit him on his left cheek, searing his skin. His face burning and wet with blood, Micah crawled to the car and managed to find enough space by one wheel to press his upper body underneath it, praying it wouldn’t cave and crush him or take flight again and expose him to the storm’s wrath.

  Micah held to the tangled hay, grabbing chunks of dirt, grass and root, only to have something to hold onto. He prayed his siblings were safe in the small root cellar that also served as a storm shelter. They should know to stay in the small enclosed room under the stairs until the storm passed. No matter what.

  He lay there with his head down, praying that his community wouldn’t be destroyed. Hoping that his brother and sister would be safe inside the house. Praying that the scream he’d heard coming from this car would show someone alive inside. He’d lost his parents three years ago in a horrible buggy accident involving a drunk driver. He did not want to open the door to this vehicle and find someone dead inside.

  Dark memories whirled around him with the same force as the storm. He was the sole provider for his brother and sister now, so he hoped the hay crop and the produce garden wouldn’t be completely destroyed.

  Within seconds, the tornado lifted and the world went quiet. Too quiet. Micah squirmed out from underneath the damaged car and quickly stood to wipe trash, leaves and damp dirt away from one of the windows.

  Then he saw her. A young woman with long blond hair lay slumped over the steering wheel, her eyes closed. He heard a shy yelping sound. The woman?

  Micah checked the tiny back seat and saw only what looked like a small suitcase and a large purse. He heard the yelping sound again and glanced at the front seat as he went around the car to check on the woman. A small black-and-white spotted dog lifted out from under a blue blanket, shivering and wide-eyed with fright.

  Micah tried to open the door. Stuck. Glancing around, he hurried to the back door on the driver’s side. With one jiggle, it flew open as if the entire hinge had broken loose, throwing Micah off balance. The dog yelped again and the woman lifted her head and moaned.

  Micah managed to reach through and pull on the handle of the driver’s door. It finally creaked open. The woman moaned again and touched a hand to her forehead. Blood seeped between her fingers.

  Pulling her hand away, Micah held her head. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

  She blinked, her eyes a deep blue that contrasted with the sky outside and did strange things to Micah’s heart. Pushing that aside, he figured she might be going into shock.

  “What happened?” she asked, her voice raspy.

  “Tornado,” he said, worry for Emmie and Jed increasing his anxiety. “Let’s get you out of this car.”

  She tried to move then groaned before reaching her hand out. “Patch.”

  Micah checked her forehead. “You’ve got a bad bump. No patching needed.”

  “Patch,” she said again, her voice frantic.

  The dog barked and jumped into her lap.

  “Patch.” This time she whispered with relief, her fingers digging into the little blanket that had covered the dog. “You’re all right.” Lifting the dog and blanket up, she held the frightened animal close.

  “Is Patch your puppy?” Micah asked while he helped her out of the car. The little animal was lean and snarly and also frightened.

  She looked at Micah, her expression full of fear and apprehension. “Yes,” she said. “We’re in trouble and we need your help.”

  She wobbled and fell into Micah’s arms, the puppy shivering between them.

  “You sure do need help,” he said. “That was some storm.”

  Micah needed to check on Emmie and Jed so he lifted the woman up and told the puppy to hold on. “Stay right there, little fellow, and soon you’ll be warm and safe.”

  The woman moaned again. “Not storm. Him. After me.”

  She wasn’t making sense. Micah tried to soothe her. “You’ll be all right now.”

  Before he could get to the house, his brother and sister came running out, calling his name. Micah nodded to them and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that other than some missing roof shingles and a few limbs leaning against a corner, the house was intact. Limbs and small uprooted trees were scattered all over the yard, and his vegetable garden and the cornfield had both taken a hit. He’d have to check on the neighbors later. Already he could hear sirens screaming and people’s shouts echoing through the woods and fields.

  “Who is that?” Emmie asked with an inquisitive frown, her gaze on the woman in his arms.

  “Did she fall out of the sky?” Jed chimed in.

  “Her car landed in our field out back,” Micah explained as they
walked toward the house, mud sloshing all around their feet. The woman’s long thick hair fell in golden waves across his arm. “She’s hurt but okay.”

  They both glanced back at the deep tire marks and the car tilted into the dirt and mud. “That’ll mess up part of the grazing crop,” Jed said on a pragmatic note.

  “The crop will be fine,” Micah retorted. “I hope.” He only had four cows as it went. They had plenty of grazing grass and they’d have plenty of hay to come in the fall.

  “Her car got lifted by the tornado?” Jed obviously thought that was impressive even in the dire circumstances.

  The skies lit up with a strike of lightning, followed by distant thunder. Would another storm follow the tornado?

  Patch got squirmy and yelped.

  Emmie jumped back when they reached the long back porch, her hands fisted at her side. “What is wrong with this woman?”

  Patch stuck his little head out of the tiny blanket Micah had somehow found in his arms, too. A soft, uncertain bark greeted the kinder.

  “A dog,” Emmie said, grinning with glee. “She has a puppy dog. He’s so cute. He looks like he’s wearing a big black smudge over one eye.”

  “Quiet now,” Micah cautioned, wet hair plastered to his mud-caked face. “Let’s get them both inside. She might need a doctor and I need to check on the animals.”

  “Can I hold the dog?” Emmie asked, her motherly nature kicking in as she eyed the squirming dog.

  “Ja, but be careful,” Micah said as he allowed her to grab the blanket and Patch. “Let’s get Patch’s friend settled and we’ll feed little Patch.”

  Emmie giggled and cooed. “Patch, you are so cute.” She carefully wrapped the little yelper back into the blanket, swaddling him like a bobbeli. The dog looked up at her with grateful, soulful eyes.

  Micah thought he heard footsteps coming around the side of the house. When he glanced over that way, no one appeared. Voices echoed in the wind. Maybe the neighbors were out checking on people and livestock or some of the teens on rumspringa, trying to make mischief. He’d have to do his own survey to see how bad the damage was. Not what he needed right now, but he was thankful that they were all alive. Including the petite Englisch woman in his arms.