Amish Covert Operation. Meghan Carver
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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