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Dangerous Amish Showdown

By Mary Alford

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ONE
Miles of pitch-black lurked outside the interior of the unmarked police
vehicle. Rain peppered the hood and roof. The back-and-forth whooshing of
the windshield wipers grated along US Marshal Mason Shetler’s nerves.
Tension wound tight in his stomach. He leaned forward and watched the
road through the headlights. Relaxing wasn’t an option. Somewhere out
there Lucian Bartelli’s people were doing everything possible to find
Mason’s young witness and silence her before Bartelli’s trial began in less
than a week.
This last move marked the third in the two months Mason and his
partner, Erik Timmons, had been assigned to protect Samantha King.
Somehow, Bartelli kept finding them. The coincidences were beginning to
pile up and Mason didn’t like where they were leading.
While Erik kept diligent watch from the passenger seat, Mason glanced
briefly through the rearview mirror at the back seat where his six-year-old
witness clutched the faded teddy bear tight in her arms. The last piece of her
past she still had the ability to claim. Samantha stared out the window and
watched the passing darkness outside the car.
His attention returned to the watery road ahead. “Are you doing okay
back there, Samantha?” Mason asked the girl who had won both his and his
partner’s hearts from the second they’d met her. Samantha had shown more
courage than a lot of the grown-ups he’d guided through the witness
protection program.
“I’m doing okay, Mr. Mason.”
Mason smiled at her answer. As much as he’d tried to get her to call him
Mason, she never did. He’d finally gotten used to being Mr. Mason. In fact,
he kind of liked it.
“Good. You let me know if you need to stop for any reason.”
It broke his heart whenever he thought about what this little girl had gone
through. Samantha had watched both her parents being murdered by Lucian
Bartelli while she hid in a closet. During her many interviews, Samantha
claimed someone else in a suit had held her mother while Lucian killed her
father. Unfortunately, Samantha’s description of the second man consisted
of him wearing a dark suit and yelling at her mother. Mason hoped in time,
after Lucian’s conviction, the child would remember something more to
help them arrest the second man.
Right now, Samantha remained their only witness to bring down one of
the biggest weapons smugglers operating in Montana. Mason hated that so
much rested on the child’s tiny shoulders, but up until this point, Bartelli
had been like Teflon.
Though Bartelli was currently in custody and awaiting trial in Helena,
they had to be careful. None of the previous charges brought against the
man had stuck because he was good at making witnesses disappear. Mason
wanted to change that. For Samantha.
“How’s Benny holding up?” he asked, referring to the stuffed bear in
Samantha’s arms.
“He’s kind of sleepy, Mr. Mason, like me. But I think he’s okay.”
“Well, if either you or Benny want to close your eyes for a bit and get
some sleep, you go right ahead.”
It broke his heart that this little girl probably hadn’t gotten a good night’s
sleep since she’d watched her parents’ murder.
“We’ve got company.” Beside him, Erik straightened his six-foot-six
frame and kept his voice low enough so Samantha wouldn’t hear. His full
attention focused on the side mirror. Mason discreetly glanced behind them
through the rearview mirror. A set of headlights appeared in the distance.
Mason’s hands tightened on the wheel while his mind went to work. At
one time, he knew the area surrounding the West Kootenai Amish
community better than anywhere else in the world. The remoteness of the
landscape near the mountains had been the main reason he’d chosen it to
keep Samantha hidden until the trial. He planned to reach out to the sheriff
once they were closer to Eagle’s Nest.
“It’s pretty isolated here,” he recalled from childhood memories. “Seems
strange there’d be another traveler at this time of the night.” The words
barely cleared his mouth when another pair of lights topped the hill in front
of them.
The digital clock on the dash registered the time. Just past two in the
morning. They had been driving for hours without any sign of another
vehicle. Now, two at the same time approached from opposite directions.
The hairs on the back of Mason’s neck stood at attention. If these were
Bartelli’s men, they’d somehow managed to track them down and were
moving in for the kill. They’d box Mason off, force the car off the road and
eliminate everyone inside, because that was Bartelli’s MO. Leave no
witness behind however young or innocent.
If Samantha had made even a single peep while Bartelli murdered her
parents, she’d be dead already.
The ruggedness of the countryside could be unforgiving. There were few
options to escape the oncoming threat.
This was bad. So bad.
“We need help. I’m calling it in.” Erik reached for his cell phone while
keeping his attention on the vehicle approaching straight ahead, lights on
bright.
Mason’s gut warned him they had a bigger problem than the trap being
set before them now. How did Bartelli’s people keep finding them so
quickly? The last two breaches had come almost right on top of each other.
Only one person knew they were heading to Eagle’s Nest. His commander,
Owen Harper. Mason trusted Owen completely, yet somehow Bartelli had
found them again. Could someone from the marshals service be working for
the gunrunner? The thought was terrifying.
“No, wait.” He grabbed his partner’s arm. Mason couldn’t imagine
someone from the marshals service taking a bribe or caving to blackmail
and providing Bartelli’s people with confidential information. And yet...
“Think about it for a second.” He lowered his voice. “How did they find
us so quickly?” He locked his gaze onto Erik’s briefly, hoping his partner
would pick up what he didn’t want to voice aloud in front of the little girl.
“We can’t afford to call this into our people until we’re certain.”
Erik blew out a heavy sigh. “Roger that. But for the record, I sure hope
you’re wrong.”
Mason did, too. If these were Bartelli’s people, he and Erik would have
to find a way to neutralize the threat they posed before the entire
countryside was teeming with criminals.
He glanced to the back seat. So far, Samantha hadn’t picked up on the
danger steamrolling their way. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to keep it
from her. She was smart beyond her years.
Bartelli’s murder trial was scheduled to take place in exactly four days in
Helena. Right now, it felt like a lifetime. Samantha had a time bomb
attached to her tiny shoulders ticking off each second until the trial and it
was ready to explode at any moment. If Bartelli had his way, she’d never
make it to the courthouse.
Mason ran a hand over his tired eyes and tried to think beyond the
danger. Childhood memories of growing up Amish here came back in a
rush. The high country surrounded by the Rocky Mountains held vast
wilderness areas. The Amish community of West Kootenai lay beyond
those mountains.
Headlights from the car in front grew larger as it chewed up the space
between them. The second vehicle appeared to take its cue and sped up, as
if both drivers knew they had their target in sight.
The little girl in the back seat made a whimpering sound. “Mr. Mason,
I’m scared.” The fear in Samantha’s tiny voice just about ripped his heart to
shreds. How many more times must she be forced to go through this?
“Get down low, kiddo. Everything is going to be all right.” Mason did his
best to sound convincing. He hoped he hadn’t just lied to this innocent child
who’d been betrayed enough by the grown-ups in her life. A child needed
love and security. It wasn’t her fault her father had gotten mixed up with the
likes of Bartelli.
“What’s the plan here?” Erik asked while watching the advancing car.
Mason’s mind raced with possible ways to extract them from this lethal
threat. “We have to get off this road. Now.” Yet the closest exit had to be
more than a mile away. They didn’t have that long. Which left one option—
wait until the two were close. With the vehicle in front barreling down on
them in their lane, if he could jerk his car off the road fast enough, the two
enemy vehicles should hit head-on. Should being the key factor. If his plan
worked, it would eliminate the threat for now. If it worked.
Blinded by headlights coming in both directions, Mason did his best to
correctly gauge the approaching vehicles’ speeds. When they were a few
yards away, he yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, but not quite fast
enough to avoid a blow from the car in front before it careened into the
other vehicle. Samantha screamed above the noise of the two slamming into
each other. Metal folded into metal. Brakes squealed.
Their car launched from the road, hitting the field to the left and spinning
three hundred and sixty degrees. Mason fought with everything he had to
keep from flipping over.
With the wheel clutched in a death grip as their car continued its wild
spinning, Mason lost all sense of direction. The vehicle finally came to a
shuddering and violent stop when the damaged engine stalled. Smoke
billowed out from under the hood in waves.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, and tried to restart the engine.
The third failed attempt confirmed the truth. They wouldn’t be driving out
of here. He and Erik would have to take down a multitude of Bartelli’s men
if they stood a chance at saving Samantha’s life.
Car doors slammed shut behind them.
“Get on the floor, Samantha,” Erik yelled seconds before a hail of bullets
blasted every inch of the vehicle. Glass shattered. The little girl screamed
again and scrambled onto the floor.
Mason grabbed his weapon as the shooting lapsed. He and Erik slipped
from their vehicle and ducked behind their open doors to return fire.
Several men screamed as they took bullets, but he and Erik were grossly
outmanned, and they wouldn’t have the upper hand for long. Another round
of shots had Mason ducking low behind the door. They had to get Samantha
out of the car before she took a stray bullet.
He glanced over his shoulder. The wilderness separating the highway
from mountains was at their six o’ clock and filled with its own set of
dangers.
“Get Samantha and head to the woods behind us. I’ll cover you,” Mason
yelled so his partner could hear him.
Erik grabbed up the little girl. Tucking her close to his body for
protection, he ran toward the woods while Mason did his best to keep them
safe.
His partner almost reached the safety of the trees when one of the
shooters spotted him and zeroed in. Erik screamed, stumbled a couple of
steps and went down quickly while still holding Samantha.
“Erik!” All sorts of dreadful outcomes played through Mason’s head. His
partner was hit, their witness was in jeopardy and Erik’s family would be
depending on Mason to keep him alive.
Desperate to reach his wounded friend, Mason moved as fast as he could
while shooting over this shoulder. All around him, bullets fell like the rain
coming down.
Erik struggled to get his feet underneath him.
“No—stay down!” Mason tried to warn Erik, but the noise of war
drowned out his voice. He had to keep fighting to reach them, to get his
partner and Samantha into the protection of the trees before the shooters
took them all out.
Mason’s heart drilled a frantic beat against his ears. Fear poured
adrenaline through his body as he kept the disabled car between himself and
the men. He bent over and he ran toward his partner. The distance seemed
insurmountable with the battle raging around him. Bartelli’s people weren’t
letting up despite his resistance. Every second they were out in the open
raised the likelihood of being shot. He and Erik wouldn’t have long to reach
the protection of the trees.
And then what?
Samantha slowly crawled out from underneath Erik. She spotted Mason
and held her arms toward him.
“Stay where you are, sweetheart.” His voice must have carried above the
noise because she stopped moving.
He finally reached Erik and helped him to his feet. Before he could get to
Samantha, a bullet burrowed through the shoulder of his shooting arm and
exited in a wealth of red-hot pain. The gun flew from Mason’s hand. He lost
his hold on Erik, who crumpled to the ground.
Mason scrambled for his firearm while keeping a close eye on the
shooters. One man blew out two of the tires as he passed by, probably to
make sure the car was completely incapacitated, taking away the marshals’
only means of transportation.
He ignored the pain rolling down his arm and grabbed Erik, lifting him to
his feet again. Erik’s blood soaked the ground beneath where he’d gone
down. Samantha was covered in it.
Mason grabbed the child’s trembling hand. “Stay in front of me.” He’d
use his body to shield her. “Can you walk?” he asked his partner.
Erik’s full weight leaned heavily against him. “I think so.” Though Erik
was far from steady on his feet, he didn’t have a choice. The alternative
meant certain death.
Mason jerked his gaze behind them. Bartelli’s men had now passed the
car and were closing the space between them. Mason fired several rounds to
force them back behind the car. The brief reprieve came at a price. He’d
emptied his clip. He quickly reloaded.
Tightening his hold on Erik, Mason clutched Samantha’s tiny hand and
started walking as fast as his partner’s injuries would allow.
He could feel Samantha shivering. Though it was summertime, the
temperature this close to the Canadian border dipped close to freezing at
night.
Moving proved excruciatingly slow. Less than a dozen feet separated
them from the wilderness, but dragging an injured man while protecting
little Samantha made it feel like forever before they reached the shelter of
the trees.
At one time, he’d hunted in these woods with his brothers—knew every
square inch of them like the back of his hand—but that was before he’d
foolishly burned the life he’d once loved to ashes.
Childhood memories refused to be held captive in time. They rose from
the darkness to taunt him when the past was the last thing he needed to be
focused on. At times, his Amish life felt like something he’d read about in a
book—someone else’s childhood. But there were more moments, especially
lately, when he wished he could turn back the hands of the clock.
He fought back exhaustion, and fear, and doubts that screamed he wasn’t
good enough or strong enough to save these blameless people.
The dense woods made it hard to see much past a few feet. They were
near the mountains. If they could make it to the abandoned mines, the shafts
that ran on for miles would provide a safe place to hide.
Erik’s injury bled profusely. He stumbled as he fought to keep his feet
beneath him. The wound needed immediate attention yet stopping right now
with Bartelli’s men coming after them wasn’t an option.
No matter what, Mason wasn’t about to let Bartelli win. Not on his
watch. Not after this little girl holding his hand had given up so much of her
life already to Bartelli’s plot.
Golden Boy growled low and mean. The hackles on the old golden
retriever’s back confirmed something had the dog worried.
“What is it, boy?” Willa Lambright rose from the chair beside her
mamm’s bedside. The dog continued to growl, its ears standing at full alert.
Before she could quiet the pooch, Golden Boy leaped to his feet, pushed
the door open and left the room. He ignored Willa’s calls to stay and
disappeared into the house while a prickle of unease worked its way down
Willa’s spine.
Their homestead was miles away from the next Amish farm and close to
the mountains. Her nearest neighbor was an Englischer who owned a cattle
ranch back behind her place. Occasionally, predators such as mountain lions
or bears roamed the darkened countryside near the cattle, looking for an
easy meal. She might have thought nothing of Golden Boy’s anxiety if it
hadn’t been for the shots her mamm heard earlier. They were the reason
Willa had awoken so early in the morning.
“I’ll be right back. Let me go see what has Golden Boy so worked up.”
Willa patted her mamm’s hand and put on a smile that didn’t feel genuine.
As she turned to leave, Mamm gripped her hand with a strength Willa found
surprising due to her advanced illness. Huntington’s disease had been
slowly taking away Mamm’s motor skills to the point where she rarely
wished to leave her bed anymore. She fatigued easily, became sad more
often. It broke Willa’s heart to watch her mother slowly wasting away.
“What is it?” Willa forgot all about the dog when she got a gut look at
her mother’s troubled expression.
“Be careful, dochder. Those shots.” The alarm in Mamm’s voice sounded
the same as when Willa had awoken an hour ago to her mother calling.
Mamm had insisted she’d heard multiple gunshots beyond the mountain out
near the highway. With her mother’s advancing disease, she slept very little,
yet her hearing remained strong.
Though the countryside had been silent for a while now, Willa didn’t
doubt her mother had heard gunshots, but who would be out so early, and
on a cold and rainy morning such as this? Perhaps someone hunting out of
season. It was the only explanation that came to mind.
Earlier, after her mamm’s claim, Willa had ventured out to the porch to
investigate. A thick fog moved down from the mountains, making it almost
impossible to see much beyond the front of the house, yet the silence
surrounding the place had an eerie feel.
“I will be oke. Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s just an animal that’s captured
Golden Boy’s keen sense of smell.” Willa gently pulled her hand free and
headed to the door. Just her and Mamm lived here now since Willa’s daed
passed away last year, yet she had never once felt uneasy about being so
remote...until now.
Before closing the door, Willa glanced back at the woman who had been
her whole world growing up.
In the advanced stages of Huntington’s, at times her mother struggled to
control the involuntary movements of her hands and feet, which made
walking difficult. Since losing her husband, it seemed as if Mamm struggled
to keep from giving up. Willa didn’t want to think about losing her mamm,
too.
She softly closed the door and started down the hall to the living room.
Golden Boy stood near the front door with his head cocked to one side.
Willa did the same and listened. Nothing but the quiet of the peaceful
countryside could be heard. Golden Boy stopped growling at least. Perhaps
whatever creature lurked outside heard the dog and decided to move on.
Willa patted the dog’s head as it settled down on the rug in front of the
door. “You are a gut watchdog.” Golden Boy wagged his tail, pleased at the
praise.
The animal’s unusual name had come by sheer accident after Daed
brought the abandoned puppy home. When Willa had spotted the tiny
golden furball in her father’s arms, she’d asked him where he’d got such a
pretty golden boy. Daed had chuckled, but the name stuck.
The room had grown chilly with the dying fire. Overnight, the
temperatures dropped drastically outside. Willa stirred the embers and
added several logs. With both her and Mamm awake, she might as well start
the morning meal before caring for the animals.
As she headed for the kitchen, Golden Boy suddenly lunged for the door
and began scratching at it as if trying to get to something.
Dawn remained several hours away. She didn’t relish the thought of
having to face down a rogue predator in order to do her morning chores.
Willa watched the dog continue to paw at the door while growling in a
low tone that meant Golden Boy was serious.
Outside, a board creaked. Something or someone stepped up on the
porch. Willa grabbed the shotgun that had once belonged to her daed and
loaded it. Growing up in this remote community, she’d learned to shoot
quite young and had become deadly accurate thanks to Daed’s schooling.
Since it had been just her and Mamm this past year, Willa had more than her
fair share of run-ins with four-legged creatures. She didn’t look forward to
another one.
Grabbing the lantern from its hanging spot near the door, Willa lit it to
give herself enough light to see. Her hand hovered over the door handle. A
loud rap sent her jumping back. Definitely not an animal. Who would come
to her home at such an hour? No possibility that came to mind was
welcomed.
With her heart in her throat Willa did her best to quiet the dog without
making a sound. If it was someone from the community needing help,
they’d call out, yet not a peep came from the other side. The silence scared
her most of all. Willa’s knotted stomach warned they were up to no gut.
Perhaps if she kept quiet long enough, they’d give up and move on. The
wish barely cleared her mind when a second pound followed by several
more had her preparing for a worst-case scenario. Would she have to shoot
the person if they tried to break into her home?
“It’s Mason Shetler. Please open the door. I need your help.”
Mason! Relief mixed with shock washed over her in waves. In an instant,
the past and all the things she’d once hoped for as a maede forced their way
up from her memories. The voice calling out to her no longer resembled
that of the young man who left West Kootenai all those years ago. Yet for
her, Mason would always be “that boy.”
Willa exhaled deeply and jerked the door open. For the longest time she
couldn’t trust her eyes. Mason stood before her. Another man was slumped
against him and barely conscious. Blood covered the man’s shirt. Holding
Mason’s hand, a little girl stared up at Willa with huge, fearful eyes. She
clutched a stuffed bear tight in the crook of her arm. Her face and clothes
were stained with blood, as well.
“Mason?” Same handsome face. Same intense blue eyes. Yet a grown-up
version stood before her when she’d been expecting the boy who used to
hang out with Willa and her sister along with his bruders.
“What happened? Why are you here?” She forced the question out while
her brain tried to make sense of what stood before her. Mason—here on her
doorstep. She struggled to keep from showing her shock. Back in West
Kootenai after so many years.
He’d grown several inches since he was seventeen. That lanky boy who
teased her incessantly was an Englischer. For so long after he left, she’d
hoped—prayed even—that at some point Mason would forgive his bruder
Eli and realize he’d chosen the wrong sister to love. Thirteen years passed
without that happening.
Willa grabbed the door frame and couldn’t take her eyes off Mason. His
dark brown hair was short and slicked back from the rain. Those piercing
blue eyes that once used to twinkle with mischief now held an urgency she
struggled to associate with her Mason. His face appeared drawn, and he
swayed on his feet.
“I know it’s early, but we need your help. Can we come inside? My
partner’s in bad shape.” Mason glanced over his shoulder as if expecting
someone to materialize through the fog.
What terrible thing had Mason become involved in? On the occasions
when Willa had spoken with his mamm after church services, Martha
mentioned her sohn worked for some type of law enforcement. Had he and
his partner been shot in the line of duty? If so, where were the people who
shot them and how did this frightened little girl fit into the nightmare?
Willa gathered in a breath and let go of her uncertainties. It didn’t matter
the circumstances that brought him here; Mamm and Daed had taught her to
help those in need no matter the cost personally. Willa had spent most of her
twenty-eight years trying to follow in their footsteps. She wouldn’t turn
Mason away in his time of need.
Golden Boy continued to growl his concern while the hair on his back
sounded its own alarm.
“It’s oke, boy.” Willa soothed the dog with a pat, then quickly stepped
aside and held the door open for them to enter. “Jah, please, come inside.
You all must be freezing.”
The little girl clung to Mason’s side, watching the dog nervously.
“Samantha, it’s okay.” He smiled down at the child. “Golden Boy is
harmless once you get to know him, and this is Willa. She’s a kind person
and an old friend of mine.” Mason glanced at Willa. “I promise you can
trust her.”
Fear and distrust looked back at Willa from the kinna’s eyes.
Willa leaned down at Samantha’s level. “I promise you’re safe here, little
one. Come inside and warm up by the fire. I can make you some hot
chocolate,” she added when the child still hesitated. “And Mason is right
about Golden Boy. He’s a softie. Hold out your hand like this so he can
sniff it.” Willa held her hand close to the dog’s nose.
Samantha tentatively stuck hers out. Golden Boy gave it a couple of
sniffs before he licked it and the little girl giggled. “It tickles,” she said, and
looked up at Mason.
“Go ahead and pet him,” he told the child. Samantha stroked Golden
Boy’s fur and made a friend for life.
Letting go of Mason’s hand, the little girl followed the dog across the
threshold while Mason all but carried the injured man toward the rocker
near the fire. The child didn’t appear at all troubled by the sight of two
injured men or the blood. Almost as if she’d been down this road before.
Golden Boy glued himself to Samantha’s side, sensing the child needed
his services.
“Oh, what a cute puppy!” Samantha’s face lit up when Golden Boy
licked her cheek. She leaned down and hugged the dog’s neck.
While Golden Boy basked in the child’s attention, Willa tried to pull her
troubling thoughts together. She couldn’t take her eyes off the wealth of
bright red stains on both men’s clothes. “What happened?” she asked.
Mason helped the man onto the rocker before he straightened and faced
her. “We were ambushed. Erik took a bullet. I’m a US Marshal now. This is
my partner, Erik, and our young witness, Samantha.” He turned toward
Samantha, who continued to hug Golden Boy.
“We were attacked and run off the road—” he lowered his voice “—by
some bad people who are trying to silence Samantha because of something
she witnessed. We managed to escape them by hiding out in the old mines,
but Erik’s in bad shape. I’ll need to tend to his injury right away.” He
leveled a look her way that vanished all doubt this might be some strange
misunderstanding. “Will you help us?”
Hard blue eyes bored into hers. Where had that carefree young man she’d
known gone? Though she knew little about his life’s work, she couldn’t
imagine the bad things Mason must have witnessed since leaving the Amish
world behind if facing down armed men was an indication.
“Of course I’ll help.” She pulled herself together. “Let me get something
to clean the wound and wrap it.” Willa hurried to the kitchen and searched
through cabinets. She gathered antibiotic cream and some gauze along with
a kitchen towel. Working quickly, Willa drew water into a bowl using the
battery-powered pump and returned to the living room where Mason knelt
beside his partner, whose eyes were closed.
As she entered the room, a terrifying thought occurred. The shots her
mother heard earlier. When Willa had been awakened earlier by her
mamm’s worried voice, she never would have predicted this outcome. Now
she understood. Somewhere out in the dark countryside were bad men
trying to kill an innocent child and the two men assigned to protect her.
Willa couldn’t imagine a world where such horrible things existed.
“Thank you.” Mason’s smile lifted some of the burden from his face. She
caught a glimpse of the young man he’d once been. His smile once had the
power to leave her breathless and so full of hope. Back before he’d chosen
her sister over Willa and her heart fractured. As painful as that time had
been, Gott had begun preparing her for the future. If someday she
developed Huntington’s like her mother, she couldn’t imagine forcing
another person to watch her slowly die.
Mason took the bowl and towel from her. “I’ve got this.” He nodded
toward the little girl, who continued to hug Golden Boy while watching
everything unfold around her. “Why don’t you take Samantha into the
kitchen and get her cleaned up before you have that hot chocolate.” He
didn’t want the child to witness any more than she had already. “The blood
isn’t hers. She’s not hurt.”
Willa quickly agreed. “Jah, that’s a gut idea. But once you’ve finished
tending to your partner, let me take a look at your shoulder.” She indicated
his blood-soaked jacket before placing her hands on Samantha’s tiny
shoulders. “Komm with me, little one.”
The child’s fearful eyes darted to Mason. “I want to stay with you.”
Mason came over to Samantha and knelt in front of her. “I’ll be right here
with Erik. Go with Willa and Golden Boy.”
Tears shone in the child’s eyes. Samantha’s bottom lip quivered, and
Mason gathered her close. “You’ve been so brave and I’m proud of you, but
I need you to stay strong for me. Go get cleaned up and have some hot
chocolate.” He squeezed the little girl tight and let her go. “You’re in for a
treat. I remember Willa’s mom making hot chocolate from when I lived
here as a kid. It was delicious. I’m sure Willa’s is, as well.”
Mason nodded to Willa, who guided the child into the kitchen while
Golden Boy kept pace.
Since her mother’s illness had worsened, Golden Boy slept at the foot of
Mamm’s bed most days and had become her constant companion. Gott gave
dogs the ability to feel when their owners were hurting and in need of extra
loving. She’d seen it enough with Golden Boy and her mother. Now the dog
appeared to sense that same need in Samantha.
“Let’s get you cleaned up first.” Willa pulled out a chair for the young
girl to sit in. “I think I still have one of my old dresses from when I was
around your age. It should fit.” She soaked a washcloth and handed it to
Samantha. “Wash your face, sweetheart. I’ll get the dress. Golden Boy, you
stay with her.” The animal didn’t require any encouragement. He settled
happily at Samantha’s feet.
The child’s blond ponytail bobbed as she bent down to hug Golden Boy
some more. Though Willa knew little about the child, she sensed the weight
of something dreadful rested on those tiny shoulders and all Willa wanted to
do was take it all away. No child deserved to go through what Samantha
had faced so far.
“It will be okay, Golden Boy,” Samantha whispered against the dog’s ear.
“I’ll be right back,” Willa managed, her voice thick with emotion. That
poor child. Her heart ached to see the innocent hurt, but Samantha needed
protection and the grown-ups around her to be strong.
Willa passed the living room where Mason worked on his injured partner,
his expression deeply concerned. From the alarming amount of blood in the
bowl, Erik would need the help of the doctor who cared for the community.
The sooner, the better. But if there were armed men searching the
countryside, they wouldn’t be able to call for help.
Willa quietly opened Mamm’s bedroom door and peeked her head in,
hoping her mother might have fallen back asleep.
“I’m awake,” Mamm said. Willa came inside and closed the door. “I
heard voices in the house. Something’s happened.”
“Jah.” Willa moved to her mother’s bedside and did her best to explain
the situation she didn’t fully understand herself.
Her mother’s weary eyes widened when Willa told her about Mason and
his partner being shot. And the little girl with the big brown eyes who didn’t
deserve what she was going through.
“I must help you with the visitors. Mason is a gut boy and Martha’s a
dear friend of mine.” Her mother attempted to swing her legs over the side
of the bed, but they flailed wildly about beyond her control. She eventually
fell back against the pillows and covered her eyes with unsteady hands.
“These legs of mine,” she exclaimed in a frustrated tone.
Willa squeezed her arm. “I’ll handle our guests.” More and more lately,
Mamm struggled to control the involuntary movements caused by her
disease. Huntington’s had stolen so much from her already, including her
ability to move freely and remember things that once came so easily. Each
time Willa saw the struggle, it reminded her that Mamm’s life had become a
measured one.
She fought back the familiar sense of grief and anger and tried to be
strong as she pulled the quilt up over her mother’s frail body. “Rest now. I’ll
take care of everything. If you’re feeling up to it later, I’ll bring Mason in
for a short visit.”
Mamm slowly smiled despite the tears hovering in her eyes. “Denki,
dochder,” she murmured in a weak voice. “It will be gut to see him again
despite the circumstances.”
Willa leaned down and kissed her mamm’s cheek before crossing the
room. With a final look, she stepped out into the hall and shut the door. She
brushed tears from her eyes and prayed her mamm hadn’t seen them. The
woman she adored had always been the picture of strength throughout
Willa’s life. Even after learning Willa’s sister, Miriam, had died in a fire
deliberately set, Mamm had been the one to hold her family together while
struggling with her disease. It was Willa’s turn to be the rock for this
precious woman.
She opened the door to her room next to Mamm’s and went over to the
trunk at the foot of her bed. The dark blue dress lay on the bottom. It had
been a hand-me-down from Miriam two years her senior and Willa’s
favorite dress as a kinna.
Gently lifting the dress from the trunk, Willa returned to the kitchen
where little Samantha had managed to remove most of the blood from her
face in between loving on Golden Boy. The clothing would be a different
story. It would take a lot of scrubbing to remove those stains. It was
probably best for Samantha if they weren’t around to serve as a reminder of
what happened. Willa would burn them in the stove and hopefully, one day
in the future, Samantha would be able to free herself of the memories.
The little girl straightened as she entered the room. Willa held up the
dress for her to see. “What do you think?”
Samantha’s eyes brightened and she touched the fabric. “It’s pretty.”
“Denki. Let me help you change.” Kneeling beside the child, Willa
finished cleaning the little girl before she helped Samantha out of the soiled
clothing and into the dress. “It’s a gut fit.” She sat back on her heels and
admired the dress on the child. If she didn’t know differently, Samantha
could pass for an Amish kinna.
The child’s attention remained on Willa, her brow wrinkled in a frown.
“You talk funny.”
Willa suppressed a smile and rose, straightening her dress and apron.
“That’s because I’m Amish. We talk and dress differently than what you are
accustomed to. Now, you are dressed as an Amish girl who needs some hot
chocolate.”
She winked at the child and Samantha giggled. The innocent sound was a
reminder this lovely little girl deserved to have more moments where she
could laugh and be a child again. Not living in fear and running for her life.
Gott, please help this sweet kinna. Protect her from men who wish to
harm her.
Willa retrieved her favorite saucepan from the cabinet near the stove.
Gathering the ingredients required for the hot chocolate, she sat them on the
counter. The recipe had been passed down from Grossmammi to Willa’s
mother. And now to Willa. It had always been a favorite of both hers and
Miriam’s.
Not a day went by when Willa didn’t miss her big schweschder. Growing
up, she and Miriam had shared everything with each other. Willa had
known about Miriam’s feelings for Eli long before she’d told their parents.
When Miriam married and moved away to Libby, Willa missed her deeply.
They did their best to keep in touch through letters and the occasional visit.
And then Miriam died.
Willa tucked the gut and bad memories of her sister away. They were not
for this day.
Samantha watched her pour the milk she’d gotten the morning before
into the pan along with cocoa and sugar. After she lit the stove, she placed
the pan on one of the burners.
The child plopped down on the floor beside Golden Boy, and the dog laid
his head on Samantha’s lap. “Aw,” she exclaimed.
Willa shook her head. Golden Boy had that effect on everyone. He was a
fierce protector of both Willa and her mamm, but a softy at heart who loved
attention. When Willa still taught at the community skool—back before her
mother’s condition worsened—Golden Boy would follow her to class from
time to time, and all her students adored the animal.
She stirred the chocolate while her thoughts returned to the man in the
living room. Even though she’d seen him face-to-face, Willa couldn’t
believe Mason Shetler was standing in her living room. Even more so under
these circumstances.
Thirteen years had passed since he’d left the community. With each one,
Willa believed the chances of Mason returning to West Kootenai grew
smaller. She’d thought about him a lot through the years. Remembered the
gut times they’d shared growing up. She’d often wondered about his life in
the Englischer world. Was he happy? Had he found someone to share his
future?
She shook her head. Best not to dwell too long on things that were not
her concern.
While the liquid grew warm, Samantha rose and sat at the table,
smoothing her tiny hands over the blue material of the garment worn by
three different children.
“I like this dress very much,” Samantha said when she noticed Willa
watching her.
More than anything, Willa wanted to take Samantha in her arms and hug
her close because she had a feeling the child needed lots of hugs. “I’m glad
you like it. It’s my gift to you.” Willa told Samantha about it once
belonging to her sister.
The child’s face lit up after the story. “Oh, thank you. Mr. Mason and Mr.
Erik bought me what I wore...before.” She sniffed several times.
“Well, you look very pretty in your new dress.” Willa tried to take the
child’s mind off what happened. She poured the heated liquid into a cup and
sat it on the table in front of Samantha, then she pulled out the chair beside
her.
Golden Boy rose and made several circles around the floor before settling
at Samantha’s feet with a groan. The little girl blew on the hot chocolate
before tentatively taking a sip. “It’s very good. My mom used to make me
hot chocolate...” She stopped, took another sip, then asked, “What does
denki mean?”
Willa smiled at the young girl curious about the world she’d been thrust
into. “Your way of saying denki would be ‘thank you.’ We speak a language
known as Pennsylvania Dutch.”
Samantha’s gaze slipped over Willa’s prayer kapp, and she pointed to it.
“Do you always wear that?”
The child’s innocent questions were ones she had heard many times
before. For a while, before Willa became a teacher, she’d worked as a
nanny for an Englisch couple.
“Most times. It’s called a prayer kapp.” Samantha accepted her answer
and went back to sipping her drink.
A groan sounded from the living room. Mason’s wounded partner must
have woken.
Two men were shot, and a frightened little girl sat at her kitchen table.
What dangerous events had taken place near her peaceful community to
bring back a man who’d professed he would never return to the Plain life
again? And what deadly effects would his return have on her simple world?

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