The next morning Samantha dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt, wishing she had brought more suitable clothes. She did put her hair up in a messy bun so she’d look a little more presentable, as presentable as she could be after not sleeping at all. Every creak and pop of this old house had set her teeth on edge. She heard imagined sounds, thinking footsteps were pounding toward her. Why did she feel as if someone was standing near the bedroom window in the middle of the night?
Putting that image out of her mind, she mustered up her courage and went into the kitchen to see if she could help. Micah rushed around making toast and eggs, and Patch followed his every footstep. Micah’s hair was mussed and he looked like he hadn’t slept much either.
When she glanced over at the fabric-covered couch and saw a pillow and blanket, she realized Micah had slept down here.
That gesture touched her heart and told her he was a good man who would do what he had to do.
She would follow suit and get to the authorities as soon as possible.
“Good morning,” Samantha said. Patch immediately ran to her, yelping and lunging up on his hind legs. “I had food for Patch in the car. Did you find it?”
“Morning.” Micah kept right on with scrambling eggs. “In the mudroom with his food bowl and water dish.”
The twins came running down the stairs, startling Samantha even though she could hear them thundering.
“Slow down,” Micah said, admonishing them with one of his frowns. “Eat, then go and do your chores. I’ll be helping you today.”
He sent Samantha a glance on that comment. He’d be too concerned to let the children roam freely right now.
“Can Patch come?” Emmie asked, grabbing toast.
“He needs to eat and yes, he’ll need an outside break,” Samantha explained. She hurried to the mudroom and found Patch’s dog food. And she also found something else.
The side window had been pried open.
“Micah?” she called, trying to keep her voice steady.
He came across the house and glanced into the small, square room. “What?”
She motioned toward the tiny window near a storage shelf, showing him the chipped paint and splintered wood. The window had been opened about an inch. She felt the warm wind on her skin, but she also felt the fingers of fear creeping down her spine.
Turning to the twins, he called, “Go ahead and eat while I help Samantha feed Patch.”
He went to the mudroom door. “Did you hear anything last night?”
She stared at the damaged window. “I thought I heard things all night. I can’t be sure.” Ignoring the shiver snaking through her nerves, she said, “I wouldn’t be here right now if they’d managed to get in.” Giving him an appreciative glance, she asked, “How about you? Did you sleep in the living room last night?”
He looked sheepish, the frown again on his tense face. “I couldn’t sleep so I came down here. I must have checked the doors five times and some of the windows, too.” Shrugging, he said, “I never figured anyone would try to break in this tiny window.”
“I can’t see how those men could get in. Maybe they peeked in.” Studying the window, she added, “Why would they do that?”
He let out a breath. “I came in here this morning and put on my muck boots to go tend the animals. Never even glanced toward that window.”
Samantha could understand that. It would have been near dawn when he came in and he probably didn’t even turn on a light. The damaged window glared at them now with a sinister gawk. “They didn’t make it inside. It is a small window, thankfully.”
“They might have been about to enter when they heard us upstairs earlier. The twins sound like a herd of cattle at times.”
“Patch didn’t bark.”
“He was exhausted and could have snoozed right through it if it didn’t wake you being so close. He got busy chasing the kinder until he smelled breakfast.”
Patch yelped a soft reminder that he needed breakfast, too.
Samantha absently fed the impatient dog, then studied the window. “Something scared them off, that’s for sure. I’m glad of that.”
Micah’s gaze swept the room. “Well, it’s gut that they didn’t get in. Or did they? Have you checked your things?”
Samantha moved across the hall into the bedroom. She pulled open the armoire where she’d stored her purse and tote bag. Everything looked in place, but the thought of someone creeping around while she slept sent her mind reeling with apprehension. Tugging at her purse, she checked for her phone. Still there, along with her laptop. If they’d come in and found this, she’d be dead by now.
She saw she’d had several messages from Dorothea. Listening, she heard the panic in her assistant’s voice.
“A warehouse on Leon’s property was raided and some men were arrested. He’s wanted for questioning but can’t be found. Samantha, what’s going on? Call me, please.”
Her heart hammered against her rib cage like a bird trying to get free. She’d never get the image of Leon beating up a helpless old man out of her mind. Nor could she forget the hiss of a silenced gun and how Clyde had slipped off the chair and fallen in a heap to the floor. Leon wasn’t in jail. He’d sent those men and soon, he’d come here, too.
“Everything’s okay,” she told Micah when he came into the room. “I need to call my assistant.” She didn’t want to share what Dorothea had told her. Not until she had details.
When Micah heard an argument breaking out between the twins, he pivoted back toward the kitchen.
Samantha hurried to watch over Patch, her mind whirling. If the law had discovered the smuggling ring, the news would be all over Winter Lake. She prayed these evil men hadn’t bothered her assistant. When she came back into the empty kitchen area, she walked to the open back door and saw the children doing their daily chores. Their banter and discussions echoed from the goat corral. Micah stood with them, his gaze wandering over the fields and woods. He was worried and he had every right to worry.
Samantha took a deep breath and tried to call Dorothea back, but her phone went to voice mail. She didn’t dare leave a message.
For now, she had more to worry about. Sending his men was one thing. Leon would be angry that they hadn’t brought her back. He was somewhere planning his next attempt to get to her and evidently end her life once and for all.
She stood, staring at nothing, wondering if she’d ever get away from him now. He’d track her for as long as it took.
Patch nosed her leg, so she put on his leash and tied it loosely to the porch post to let him roam around the yard while she sat on the porch steps and prayed.
She’d have to be careful not to have a meltdown around the children. But Micah seemed to read her thoughts.
She spotted Micah walking back from the barn with a tool kit. Watching him, she had to admire his broad shoulders and muscular build. He worked hard and had the muscles to prove it. He had a kind face even if he did frown a lot. He’d had to take on a hard task, that of raising his younger siblings. Is that why he hadn’t married? Did he think no one would want to be with him because of his siblings? Or maybe he didn’t trust anyone else to help with his responsibilities. The twins indicated he had run off most of the available women in the community.
Emmie and Jed were not horrible children, but some would want their man all to themselves. She thought of Leon, her eyes casting down in shame. He never talked about having children and he claimed he loved animals. He did have several dogs of his own, big Dobermans and German shepherds. Guard dogs?
He’d been married once and he never talked about that either except to say he’d been horribly betrayed. He’d been so suave, such a gentleman. Everyone in town respected him. Now, she could see it all in a different light. Everyone in town feared him. He’d used her, taking her love for animals and her need to have someone in her life and manipulating her so subliminally she never saw it coming. She’d almost married a sociopath.
Lowering her head and closing her eyes, she silently wondered why she’d been so naive and gullible.
She’d reasoned that she’d never met a man like Leon and she’d only dated briefly here and there in school and while interning. What did she know of love, except how she’d seen her mother suffer? Leon had made her feel special and needed.
Why had he picked her? Because she wasn’t a local and he could control her by bringing stray animals so she’d fall for him? He’d charmed her, coaxed her and made her believe in him.
Now she’d seen his true colors.
Well, she sure had fallen hard. Seeing the brutality and the dangerous look on his face when he’d ordered his man to kill Clyde had ended any infatuation she’d held for the man.
She wondered if he’d ever really loved her at all.
She’d betrayed him. And she feared him now more than ever, but she’d stand her ground, somehow. She could start by trying to find his ex-wife. What had happened there? If she’d married him—
“Hey, are you all right?”
Samantha looked up to see Micah standing on the bottom step, his eyes on her with an intensity that burned like a torch. “I’m fine. Just...trying to absorb what’s happened to me. We should talk about me moving on.” She was about to tell him that Leon was on the loose and not in jail.
Micah’s gaze fell over her face, studying her in the quiet way he’d done yesterday. “You’ll stay here.”
That had not been a suggestion.
Her heart bumped and shifted while she wished she could stay here. “It’s too dangerous. I won’t do that to you and the children.” Touching a hand to his arm, she said, “Micah, I heard from my assistant. She left me a message on my phone. He’s not in jail as I thought. He’s out there and he will not stop sending his bodyguards after me. Sooner or later, Leon will come here himself.”
“I think you need to stay hidden as much as possible,” Micah replied. “We can pass this information to the whole community—that I have a visitor. One thing we do around here—we gather anyone in need close. We have our own kind of bodyguards.”
“I can’t ask that of you or anyone else, Micah. I had planned to drive in and hide at Gramma’s place without anyone knowing I was even here.”
When he smiled, she shot him an aggravated glare. “Is that so funny?”
“With that bright red car shouting to the world, you planned to sneak in and hide?”
“She does have a barn, you know. I planned to hide the car there.” Although Samantha really hadn’t thought beyond getting here. “I’ll be okay on my own with Patch.”
“Neh. I won’t let an innocent woman go out there alone and on the run. We will figure out something together, Samantha.”
His voice went soft on her name and for some reason that small gesture made her heart hurt with a new kind of pain.
“Denke,” she said, not even realizing she’d spoken it in the Pennsylvania Dutch he understood best.
He stopped near her as he passed into the house. “Say that again.”
Just a moment, and one look that spoke volumes before he kept moving.
Cautious and unsure, she followed him, willing to help with the window while Patch stayed near the porch. “Why?”
“Why what?” he asked, his expression showing the same caution.
“Why do you want me to say denke again?”
His frown softened and his eyes turned dark. “I like the way you say it.”
Something akin to a lightning bolt hit Samantha in her stomach. Micah’s eyes darkened as if he’d felt the same thing.
“Denke,” she said again, low and unsure.
“I’ll fix the window,” he replied, blinking. “And I’ll put protective measures on all the downstairs windows.”
“An alarm?” she asked, still a bit spellbound by the way he’d looked at her.
“An Amish alarm,” he replied. “Sturdy sticks as crossbars. It will be hard to pry the windows open.”
“My gramma used those,” she said, her heart aching with longing for her grandmother.
Micah gave her a wry smile. “My mamm loved Martha. Your grossmammi is a kind, respected member of this community. She’ll give me a good dressing-down if I let any harm come to you.”
Samantha fought back tears. “You’re very kind, too, Micah. I do feel protected here and I can never repay you.”
They both became silent. Micah watched her, his gaze moving over her face. He blinked and started clearing away slivers of wood.
“I’ll also set traps around the windows. An animal trap will have a grown man squealing like a piglet. Watch Patch and don’t let him get into one of them. I’ll caution Emmie and Jed, too.”
“Good plan,” Samantha said, admiring his ingenuity.
But would his plans keep them safe enough to stop Leon and his overpaid security guards? She still had to wonder why anyone would try this window instead of some of the bigger ones around the house. When she remembered how she’d woken up wondering if someone had been standing outside, shivers of fear played down her spine.
She followed Micah into the mudroom, the smells of clean laundry and farm-stained clothes a familiar mixture. Still unsettled, she glanced around, seeing neat shelves lined with towels and blankets, soap and other supplies. A hat rack and hanging jackets and rainwear, a row of muck boots. All normal in an Amish mudroom. This damaged window wasn’t normal.
Those thoughts niggled at her while she watched the man who’d suddenly come into her life. He didn’t need this or deserve this—having to deal with a woman on the run from horrible, dangerous people. But he was a good person.
Micah chiseled at the splintered windowsill until he had it removed, then stood back to assess the damage. After clearing away debris, he measured the window and tested a piece he’d already cut to size.
Finally, he glanced back at her. “Would you like to tell me more about your life, Samantha Herndon?”
Back to business. Maybe she’d only imagined the way he’d said her name earlier. Maybe she’d only imagined how he seemed to like the sound of her voice. She did owe him some kind of explanation, even if she barely knew the man. Her nerves were shot and she was on edge. No wonder she’d imagined lightning bolts and an acute awareness. The man had saved her life, after all. But she was no longer Amish—the first no-no. And she could think of lots more reasons why her imagination needed to curb its enthusiasm.
Maybe if she told him the truth about her sordid background, the lightning-bolt feeling would go away.
“My mother became an alcoholic after my father died,” she said. “She was Amish and he was Englisch. She left because they were in love. My grandfather, who is no longer alive, shunned her. Gramma stayed in touch with her, but she had to be respectful of my grandfather’s wishes, too.”
She handed Micah the hammer and nails he’d placed on the bench by the window. He eyeballed the new facing he’d whittled into shape and jammed it against the space in the window.
“I’m sure that was difficult.”
“Yes, horrible. My mom never got over leaving her way of life here. When my father died, she had a hard time with that, too. The guilt of not being able to speak to my grandfather ate at her and so the love my parents had soon splintered. He died of a heart attack at a young age, maybe a broken heart since, even while she loved him completely, she seemed to resent him taking her away.”
“That is sad,” Micah said as he sanded wood and hammered nails. His gaze hit her again. “It does happen, someone falling for the wrong person or going out in the Englisch world only to find it’s not what they really wanted.”
Was he referring to her leaving and falling for Leon?
Samantha didn’t want to figure that out, so she kept talking. “Anyway, after he died, she started drinking a lot. She loved him and missed him and regretted how she’d treated him.”
“So she sent you here to live with Martha?”
“Yes, because she had no choice. I was eight when I came here. It was difficult at first. I missed my mom and our life in New York. Gramma was patient and kind in teaching me the Amish ways.”
“And our language,” he said with a smile.
“Ja, for certain sure,” she teased back, glad they were on an even keel again.
He worked on the windowsill a bit longer. “Do you ever miss this—being Amish?”
Samantha hadn’t thought about that before. A piercing longing hit her square in the chest. “I miss Gramma and how simple things used to be. She taught me about faith and forgiveness and love. We’d pick and can vegetables and make jellies and jams. She taught me how to make freshly baked bread, which I still do sometimes. We loved planting flowers and tending to them. Gramma feels closer to God in her garden, so I have a small garden of my own. She taught me about real life and how to never judge someone. She represents the unconditional love in my life.”
He glanced up at her. “Sometimes, it does seem love comes with conditions.”
“Yes, and I’ve seen that firsthand now, unfortunately. I couldn’t see Leon placed conditions on everything we did together or even what I did on my own time. I was jogging on his property because he wanted to keep me safe, or so he said. He really wanted to control me. He did that in subtle ways that seemed like concern and love but were really manipulations. Even me jogging on his property—he wanted me to follow the main trail. I ventured to another trail that day and now here I am.”
“You see that did not work out for him. You found out the truth.” He studied her, compassion in his eyes. “Maybe your instincts and a nudge from the Lord caused you to take a different path in order to see what was right before your eyes.”
Samantha thought about that for a moment. Had she been so intent on her work and on all that Leon seemed to offer, that she’d missed the subtle signs that something was off?
“Yes, I did feel a tug to try something different. Odd, but I’m glad I found out. His illegal operations need to end. I wished I’d seen it all sooner.”
Micah brushed away sawdust and wood chips, then turned to her, his expression softening. “I think because you were among the Amish for so long, you did learn to be less judgmental and that is probably why you saw the gut in this man Leon rather than the bad.”
Surprised, she watched him turn to finish up his work, thinking she hadn’t helped with the window very much. Also thinking her imagination was still hard at work on being aware of this man. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?”
Micah put away his tools and turned to stare at her. “My life is not up for discussion.”
After that sharp statement, she stared at him and wondered what he was hiding. “And mine is?”
“I needed to know all about the stranger who is now in my home,” he replied, his eyes widening. “I believe you are a good person, Samantha. I have to know everything. I’ve always been the curious sort.”
“Really, or are you curious about me, because you don’t believe I’m telling the truth?”
He gave her that solemn, unreadable frown that he wore like an armor plate. “You told me all about yourself, but that doesn’t mean I have to do the same. Rebecca told you about my parents. I live here with Emmie and Jed and we have a simple life, a routine life on a small farm that I struggle to keep together. What more is there to tell?”
“I think there’s a lot more to tell,” she retorted, a touch of anger surging through her. “I know the Amish are not known for opening up. I wasn’t trying to pry. I really would like to know more about you, too.”
Micah shook his head. “Neh, I’ve got work to do.”
“I can help,” she offered. “I’ll put on the wash and make dinner.”
“You don’t need to do that. I thought I’d take you into town so you can let the police know what all has happened and that this Leon person could still be out there. That’s a sure threat.”
“I do want to get that done and find a place with Wi-Fi for my laptop,” she said. “If I stay here, I want to do my part to repay you. And, Micah, I’m going to find a way to get out of this, so you can get on with your life.”
“I told you, you can stay. At least for a few days. I have to start the first cut on the alfalfa—after I get your car out of my field. You can help by keeping an eye on the twins.”
He gave her a fortress-like glance that dared her to dispute him, then went out the back door at a fast pace.
Samantha stood there with her hands on her hips, watching him. An interesting, stubborn, determined man who thought he had to protect a woman he didn’t even know.
Traits she appreciated. Especially now.