Tracked Through the Woods, page 18
“I have faith in us, and in God,” he corrected. “And even you have to admit we made a great team.”
“A cop.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Funny how I once avoided law enforcement of all types. Now I’m seriously considering joining the police force.”
“I’ll support whatever you decide, Abby.” He didn’t want her to think she had to go that route. “You can work in a restaurant, or nowhere at all. I only want you to be happy.”
“You make me happy,” she said with a smile. “I’m sorry I threw that log at you the first time we met.”
He couldn’t hold back a bark of laughter. “Don’t apologize. You were smart enough to catch me off guard.”
She laughed softly. “Yeah, well, I’ve learned to be resourceful through the past few years.”
“And that ability will be helpful no matter what career path you choose to take.” He gathered her close. “All I care about is that you’re happy.”
“I am, too. I love you.” She kissed him again, and Wyatt knew God had truly blessed him when He’d brought Abby into his life.
Thank You, Lord!
EPILOGUE
Three weeks later
Abby sat next to her sister, Rachel, who was holding on to their dad’s hand. They were at a small restaurant where Rachel’s café had once been located. Abby was surprised to discover that her sister had sold the property to a young couple, after discovering she and Jacob were expecting a baby.
“Ach, daddi, it’s sehr gut to see you,” Rachel said in a low voice.
“I’m so sorry that I had to leave you and your mother behind,” Peter said somberly. “I only did it to keep you both safe.”
“Rachel found the letter you sent shortly after you left,” Abby said. She’d been touched at her father’s sacrifice. “As much as I missed growing up with my sister—” she glanced at Rachel “—I’m glad I was there for you, Dad. And Rachel was there for our mom. We know you didn’t want to go but felt you had no choice.”
“That is true,” her father admitted. “My father and brother were powerful men. I was so afraid they’d keep trying to find me...”
“And they did, ain’t so?” Rachel said, her gaze full of sympathy. “Abby told me the frightening experience you’ve both suffered.”
“All that matters is that we are here, now.” Their dad smiled. “And we are going to stay in Green Lake, too.”
“Really?” Rachel’s expression brightened. “Ach, that would be wonderful.” Then her expression turned sorrowful. “Although I may not be allowed to visit you, Daddi. The elders may not support my decision to have a relationship with you.”
Jacob and Wyatt had been standing behind them, but now Jacob stepped forward. “Rachel, mayhap if we explain about the threat to your father and sister, Bishop Bachman and the other elders will soften their stance on Peter’s banishment.”
“You really think so?” Abby didn’t know Jacob very well but could easily see that the tall, somewhat somber-looking Amish man would do whatever possible to make her twin happy.
“I do,” Jacob said firmly. “It’s very different leaving because of danger, rather than from choice, ja?”
“Ach, I pray you are right, Jacob,” Rachel agreed. She turned back to their father. “Denke for coming to visit with me, Daddi. And you, too, Abby.” Rachel’s eyes grew bright with tears. “I care for you both, very much. And I’m so happy to hear you plan to stay in Green Lake.”
“I care for you, too, Rachel.” Abby had to swipe at the tears in her own eyes. “But Liam gets a lot of the credit for us being able to stay here. He’s hired Wyatt as a deputy.”
“I love it here,” Wyatt said with a nod. “Being a part of Liam’s team is an honor.”
Abby smiled proudly at Wyatt. He’d given up his career with the bureau despite Hawthorne’s apologizing for believing him dirty and begging him to stay. With the Marchese family members having been killed in prison, the Raffa crime family had become the FBI’s organized crime division’s top priority. The injured gunman had survived surgery and was now working with Hawthorne to give more information on the Raffa family’s illegal business dealings. Interestingly, the former Chicago Chief of Police Rex Jericho had also decided to cooperate, in exchange for a lesser sentence. Between the two sources, the FBI had gotten the information they’d needed.
Trudeau had finally admitted to working with the Marchese crime family in exchange for a cut of their profits. Having grown up poor, Allan had been sucked in by the easy money. But when he’d learned about Peter Miller AKA Paulie Marchese providing information to Wyatt, he’d grown desperate. First he’d tried to kill Peter Miller at the designated meeting spot, then had done whatever he could to make Wyatt look guilty. Soon after, he’d worked with the Raffa family to kill Wyatt, Abby and Peter.
Wyatt had told her that Hawthorne himself had headed up the Raffa family raid, arresting the main players and putting an end to the danger once and for all.
For the first time in years, she felt safe. And she had Wyatt’s sheer determination and grit to uncover the truth, to thank for that.
“And your sister is thinking of taking the police academy exam, too.” Wyatt stepped up to rest his hands on her shoulders. Abby rested her hand on his, grateful for his never-ending support.
“Ach, that is wonderful news,” Rachel agreed. “Liam and Garrett have been a blessing.”
“Despite the elders’ position against seeking help outside the community,” Jacob added dryly. “Rachel, it’s almost time to go. I’m sorry, but I must take care of the animals.”
“Of course, we understand.” Abby stood as did her father and Rachel. She gave her twin a big hug. “We will stay in touch, okay?”
“Sehr gut,” Rachel whispered, returning her hug. “I love you, Abby.”
“I love you, too.” Abby stepped back so that her father could also embrace the daughter he’d been forced to leave all those years ago. Abby knew he had regrets, but there was no point in looking backward.
It was time to celebrate today and their future.
Wyatt cleared his throat loudly. “Ah, before you leave, I have an important question.”
Abby looked at him in surprise, as did Rachel, Jacob and her father. Was he about to ask about the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday?
Did the Amish celebrate Thanksgiving? Abby realized she still had a lot to learn about the lifestyle her sister and Jacob embraced.
Wyatt stepped forward, then went down on one knee. He pulled out a small velvet box and opened it. “Abby, will you please marry me?”
Abby knew her family was grinning madly, but she only had eyes for Wyatt. In the past few weeks, they’d grown even closer, and she knew with every fiber of her being she loved this man, and he loved her. “Yes, Wyatt, I would be honored to be your wife.”
“Ach, so beautiful, ain’t so?” Rachel said.
“I’m happy for your sister,” Jacob agreed.
“I’m happy for both of my girls finding men who love and will care for them,” her dad added in a husky voice. “Praise the Lord.”
Abby hugged Wyatt, kissed him, then went back to hug each of her family members, including Jacob. She eyed her brother-in-law. “You need to convince the elders to allow Rachel to attend our wedding.”
“I will do my best,” Jacob promised. “Hopefully, they will agree.”
Abby believed him, especially when Rachel leaned against him, her hand resting on her abdomen. Wyatt slipped his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I love you, Abby.”
“I love you, too.” She smiled. This was her family.
And she could feel God’s love shining down and surrounding them.
* * *
If you enjoyed this book, don’t miss these other stories from Laura Scott:
Soldier’s Christmas Secrets
Guarded by the Soldier
Wyoming Mountain Escape
Hiding His Holiday Witness
Rocky Mountain Standoff
Fugitive Hunt
Hiding in Plain Sight
Amish Holiday Vendetta
Deadly Amish Abduction
Available now from Love Inspired Suspense!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com
Keep reading for an excerpt from Hunted at Christmas by Dana R. Lynn.
Dear Reader,
I hope you’ve enjoyed returning to Green Lake and reading Abby and Wyatt’s story. I’ve had so much fun writing these books and am currently plotting my next story, too. I don’t have the idea fully fleshed out or written yet, but I do know my next story will feature sketch artist Jacy Urban. It’s time for her to have her happily ever after, don’t you agree?
I adore hearing from my readers! I can be found through my website at https://www.laurascottbooks.com, via Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/LauraScottBooks, Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/laurascottbooks/, and Twitter https://twitter.com/laurascottbooks. Also, take a moment to sign up for my monthly newsletter, to learn about my new book releases. (Like Jacy’s story!) All subscribers receive a free novella not available for purchase on any platform.
Until next time,
Laura Scott
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Hunted at Christmas
by Dana R. Lynn
ONE
Thump. Bump.
Addison Bruce stilled at the sound coming from downstairs. The shirts she was placing in her son’s dresser fell from her hands and landed in a pile on his bedroom floor. She didn’t have any pets, and her son was still not home. Which meant only one thing. Someone was in her house. She held her breath, straining to hear above the blood pounding in her ears, listening to the quiet house with all her ability. She prayed that she was wrong and that the sound she heard was only the old creaky building protesting against the chilly December wind instead of her worst fear. What if her stalker had found her? Had he discovered that Addison Bruce and Addison Johnson were the same person?
Her eyes flew to the window. It was nearly three twenty in the afternoon. The local preschool Oliver attended had ended at two forty-five. Soon, the district school bus would rumble its way down the twisty Ohio road and stop in front of her house and let her four-year-old son off.
Another muted bump hit her ears, followed by a whispered curse, validating her fear. Her stomach wrenched itself into knots. This time, she knew exactly what had happened. Someone had stumbled and fallen over the edge of the area rug in the living room. She’d been grumbling about that rug for weeks. It was old and the one side wouldn’t lay flat.
She didn’t recognize the masculine voice. Whoever it was, they didn’t belong in the house.
Did they know she was home? Her car was at the mechanics, getting the brakes fixed. Otherwise, it would be sitting in front of the house. Maybe someone saw an empty house on a rural road and decided to break in. That was one theory.
Or it could be him. The man who had stalked her and forced her to flee her home and hide her identity. She went by the name Addison Bruce now, using her maiden name, but it was hard to make herself respond to that name, even after six months on the run. Giving up her married name had been painful, but she needed to protect herself and Ollie. Which was why this little house on the outskirts of Sutter Springs, Ohio, had seemed so perfect. It wasn’t a crowded area, but she had liked that it was close enough to Columbus that if she needed to move to the city for work or to blend in, she could.
It might have been for nothing.
No! She wouldn’t think that way. She had planned for such an event.
Creeping into her own room, she grabbed the backpack she always kept ready and slid her arms into the straps, then picked up her phone, which was on silent for emergencies like this, and shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans. Her watch would buzz if a call or important text came through. Not that she had befriended many people. She’d made exactly one friend. Tricia, the woman who lived in the house closest to hers. The fewer ties she had, the better.
Sweat ran down the back of her neck, despite the coolness of the room. Maybe it wasn’t someone coming after her personally, but whatever the motive, she couldn’t risk waiting around.
And she definitely wasn’t about to be like a heroine in a movie and confront the person in her house. She had no way to protect herself against an invader. Besides, Ollie’s safety was her first and only priority.
Lord, be my shield. Protect us.
Fortunately, she knew exactly where all the weak floorboards were placed. She’d lived in this house for the past six months and had walked across the carpeted surfaces frequently.
Slipping over to the window, she slid the glass up and used her thumbs to push the bottom latches on the screen window to release it, sliding it up as well. She paused to listen. The bottom stair groaned as if someone stepped on it.
She was almost out of time.
She reached over and grabbed the rope ladder kept behind the dresser and tossed the length of it out the window, hooking it into place on the frame. Swinging her left leg over the sill, she felt for the rungs. They swayed beneath her leg.
She didn’t have time to adjust it.
The door burst open and a man wearing a ski mask charged inside, a gun in his hand. His gaze was on the bed, on the opposite side of the room, not on the side window.
That was the only thing that saved her.
She scurried out the window before he turned his head. She half climbed, half slid down the window. A screech of brakes told her the bus was stopping. Oliver was home! She jumped the last third of the ladder, her feet stumbling as they hit the ground. Snow crunched under her sneakers. Catching herself, she ran toward the front of the house.
A shout above her pushed her faster.
A gunshot echoed in the air. The blood chilled in her veins. She had to get to her child before the intruder did.
Dashing around the front of the house, she waved at the driver. He opened the door, and her son ran down the steps, his dark curls bouncing. She hurried to her grinning little boy.
“Mommy! We made Christmas cards in school today!”
“Sweetie, hold my hand, we need to hurry.” She gripped his small mittened hand in hers. She didn’t even have a coat on. At least he was bundled up. And she did have on shoes with good tread. “Someone is in the house. We need to run.”
Ollie’s bottom lip thrust out and quivered, but he didn’t argue. They’d gone through this drill many times since they’d moved in. He had his backpack on, which meant he had a change of clothes and his stuffed doggie, Bowie, that he carried everywhere.
They had to find a way to get to the police. She winced. Her husband had been a police officer in Pennsylvania. He’d been shot and killed in the line of duty when Oliver had been four months old. Three years later, what remained of her life had been turned upside down when someone began stalking her. She never found out who.
She led Ollie off the side of the road and onto the path that went behind the houses. She had marked out a little trail that led to her neighbor Tricia’s house over the past six months. Although most of the path couldn’t be seen from the road, Tricia had become used to seeing her neighbors and never questioned why they weren’t going to the front door.
This was part of Addie’s plan. She needed a place to stop and plan if the worst happened.
Like today.
Jogging up to Tricia’s back door, she rang the doorbell. The chimes echoed through the house.
Then she waited, tapping her foot rapidly on the cement. Tricia’s car had been in the driveway when she’d jogged past earlier in the afternoon. That didn’t mean much, though. Sometimes her neighbor got a ride to work with her boyfriend, who worked at the same place. Her gaze swept the horizon. She wasn’t naïve enough to think she’d lost the man coming after them. Best-case scenario, he had taken off in the opposite direction after them. Even if that were what happened, it wouldn’t be long before he realized he’d gone the wrong way and turn around to follow them.
Or he could be breathing down their necks while they stood there, waiting.
Of course, if it was just a robbery, he might not give chase. After all, he was wearing a ski mask. It wasn’t like she’d seen his face and could identify him.
But he had charged into the room like he was looking for her. Her stomach cramped, nearly bowing her over. She’d come so far, uprooted their lives; would it all end here? Had the man she’d run to escape finally found her?
A motor was coming up the road.
She had to get Ollie hidden. Reaching into her pocket, she drew out the key Tricia had given her after she’d locked herself out of her house two months ago.
“If you ever need to, you can stay in my house until you can get back into yours. Don’t worry if I’m home or not. I trust you.”
The irony was Tricia trusted Addison Bruce, not Addison Johnson. She had no clue who she was really helping.
Slipping the key into the lock, Addie led Ollie into the garage and closed the door behind her. “We need to hide here, honey, until it’s safe.”
Ollie’s big brown eyes flooded with tears. He burrowed into her side, his small frame shaking. She hugged him close and waited. Too late, it occurred to her what she’d done. She’d sought refuge in her friend’s home, potentially bringing danger to Tricia’s doorstep.
