by Lenora Worth
She gave him a nod. “I’ll hide there until I can sneak away.” She touched his arm. “I’m leaving Patch here. I want you to take him to the twins. He’s been through enough.”
Micah swallowed the roiling emotions he’d tried so hard to hold at bay. “Emmie and Jed will be glad to watch out for him.”
Rebecca hugged Samantha close. “You be extra careful, okay?”
Isaac stood back. “I wish we could do more.”
Samantha patted his hand. “You have all done more than enough. I will always remember your kindness.”
Now that it was full dark, Micah guided her out the back door, then checked all around the house. “A full moon,” he noted. “Not good for us. We’ll hurry across the open field and get into the trees.”
He watched as Patch tried to follow, watched as Samantha worked hard to hold back tears.
Rebecca held the little dog, gently speaking to Patch to keep him calm.
Micah took Samantha’s hand. “I won’t let you go into those woods alone.”
“Denke,” she said, her eyes holding his. “I’m glad for your company.”
Micah would always love the way she thanked him. So he held tightly to her hand and wished he didn’t have to let go.
They silently set out across the yard, the night damp and full of the scents of jasmine and honeysuckle while the moon cast gray, muted shadows all around.
They made their way through the field, following a path that had been forged over the years. Micah listened for the sound of footfalls, but only heard critters scurrying away and the buzz of mosquitoes near his ears and the cicadas calling all around them.
“You are brave to make this decision,” he said on a whisper, only because he was so concerned about her and hoped to talk her out of it. “I know you want to get on with your life.”
“And so do you,” she replied, her tone low.
“You’ve been a big disruption but...I didn’t mind so much. I have a routine that gets boring at times.”
Her low laughter echoed softly into the night. “Well, the last couple of weeks sure changed that.”
They reached the small copse of trees and shrubs that separated the Witmer property from her grossmammi’s place.
Micah held her there, his hand on her arm. “Samantha, you have to understand I don’t want any harm to come to you.”
“I do understand,” she said. “You’ve been good to me, Micah. You’ve put yourself in harm’s way for me. I can’t let you continue to do that.”
“Or is it you don’t want me to continue to help?” he asked. “Maybe you want to go back and confront Leon since you weren’t given that chance before.”
She gasped and pulled away. “That’s ridiculous. I want this over so I can rebuild my life and my practice. I can’t live in Winter Lake after this. I’ll have to move and start over. I don’t want to see Leon Stanton ever again.”
She took off into the woods, leaving him there shocked and even more confused. Micah hurried after her, wishing he hadn’t blurted that out.
He’d caught up with her when she screamed and backed against him. Two dark shadows loomed in front of them. Someone had been waiting for them in the woods.
FOURTEEN
Samantha screamed again.
One of the men lurched forward and tried to grab her, his face hidden by a dark bandana. Samantha pushed at him and scooted away, watching in horror as Micah tussled with the other man wearing dark clothes and a kerchief over his face.
“Micah?” she called, trying to find a way to help.
Glancing around, she spotted the man she’d pushed away coming toward her. When her foot hit on a rock, Samantha dove for it and came up in time to hit the man over the head.
He moaned and fell to the ground, then started crawling toward her, his beefy hand grabbing at her ankle, then finding her skirt. She heard a tearing of material but managed to squirm away and stand unsteadily.
“Leave me alone,” she screamed as she slipped again and tugged to get up. Her hands scraped across dirt and rocks as she pushed back up.
Micah rolled on the ground, his fists hitting at the man holding him. With a grunt, he managed to throw the man to the side and scrambled up. “Run,” he called to her. “Hurry.”
“No.” Samantha wouldn’t leave him. “Not without you.”
The injured man stood and weaved his way toward her again.
She searched for another weapon. Through a veil of moonlight, she spotted a broken limb lying on some bramble and tore through the bushes to grab it. Quickly, she lifted it over her head as the man ran toward her, his head down like a bull’s. Samantha slammed the sturdy limb with baseball-bat efficiency toward his head.
The impact of the limb hitting his nose cracked through the night. The limb, still fresh from the tornado, held. He moaned again and slumped over, then fell to the ground. Moaning, he rolled away and lay there.
She ran toward Micah as he scrambled to get up. “Micah!”
Micah took the limb from her and when the other man came after him with a roar, he swung toward the man’s midsection and missed. Micah brought the sturdy limb up again and rammed it against the man’s forehead.
The attacker screamed in pain and fell. Knocked out cold.
Micah rushed to Samantha. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “We need to get away.”
“Wait,” Micah said, his breath coming in huffs. “I think I know these two.”
“Know them? How?” Samantha held to him as he leaned down to pull one of the bandanas off the man he’d coldcocked.
Micah let out a grunt when he saw the man’s face. “This is no man. Just a boy. This is Samuel Kemp, John Kemp’s boy. And I’m thinking that one there is his brother Matthew.”
Micah held the moaning, confused man while Samantha pulled the bandana away from his bloody face. “He’s not any of the guards I know.”
“It’s Matthew,” Micah said, his voice drained and aggravated. Tossing Matthew back to the ground, he stared down at the half-conscious figure. “I should have known they’d have something to do with all of this. Especially since he showed up at my house this morning. My guess is they’re the ones who keep snooping around the barn and tampering with fences and such.”
“But why? Do they have something against you?” Samantha asked.
Micah shook his head. “Neh, they have a thing for making money—any way they can.”
Samantha’s gaze moved between the two men. “Oh, no. Leon got to them. He hired them to harass us?” Gasping, she said, “One of them probably attacked Isaac this morning.”
“At about the same time the other one was at my house, asking questions about my guest.”
Micah felt sick to his stomach. That someone from his community could be a part of such evil was beyond him. “He must have offered them a lot of money, maybe told them not to kill anyone, which explains why they’ve gone only so far. We’ll find out when they wake up.”
“That would mean they were trying to take me alive.”
“And at least knock me out, so they could get you away.”
“How do they keep finding us?”
Micah shook his head. “These two know all the right questions to ask. By hiring someone within the community, he can find out anything he wants.”
Micah checked them for weapons. After finding a knife on Matthew and a small handgun on Samuel, he threw the weapons into the woods in a spot nearby. “I’d tie them up if I had some rope.” Tugging at her, he said, “Let’s get out of here. They’ll come around and you shouldn’t be here.”
“We have to call for help,” she said, pulling out her phone as they hurried through the woods. “At least now, maybe some of this mischief will stop and you can find a little peace.”
Once they were a safe distance away and hidden behind s
ome trees, Micah pulled her close, so close she felt as if he’d kiss her. Instead he leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, “With you around, Samantha Herndon, I don’t know if I’ll ever have any peace.”
Samantha saw his wry smile, yet flinched at his words. He could tell he’d hurt her, but what could he say? That he didn’t want to lose her?
“I’m calling the police,” she said. “Then I’m going home to my gramma’s house.”
With that, she turned away and dialed 911.
* * *
Micah waited for her to finish. Before he could explain his words, she said, “They’ll take them in for questioning and throw them in jail for harassment and property damage. I told them I wasn’t waiting for them to arrive. I gave the dispatcher their names and this location. I’m not so sure I want the police to know where I’m going tonight, so I didn’t mention that.”
“I’ll handle the police and I can identify the Kemp boys in person tomorrow morning,” Micah said. “Right now, let’s get you to the house.”
“Maybe the police will get here soon.” Taking another look at them, she asked, “Why did these two have to get involved?”
“Let’s keep moving,” he said, taking her arm to guide her out of the thicket and back onto a worn footpath. “There’s your grossmammi’s house. Can you see it?”
Samantha looked across the field and saw the white house shimmering a bright gray in the moonlight. “I do see it. At last.”
“Let’s hurry then.” He took her hand, wishing he could make her feel safe. Samantha held tightly to him, her fingers interlaced with his, as they jogged toward the house.
“This is so wrong,” she whispered as they ran toward her gramma’s house. “You’ve been so kind to me, Micah, when I’ve caused you so much trouble.”
He stopped when they reached the lane to the house. “Samantha, listen to me,” he said, turning to stand in front of her. “Listen.”
She looked up at him, her eyes full of an innocence that disputed everything she’d been through, a trust that he didn’t deserve, and a longing he wasn’t sure he understood.
“Samantha...”
She was listening, but he couldn’t find any words. So he got closer and put his hand on the back of her neck to pull her toward him. Then he leaned down and kissed her, the touch of her lips like sweet, warm nectar. The kiss told Micah everything he needed to know. She felt the same. She returned the kiss and pulled back to stare up at him, her eyes glistening in the moonlight.
“You were saying?”
“I should get you inside,” he said on a husky whisper.
She nodded and held on to his hand. They went up the short drive and walked around to the back of the tiny house.
“Do you have a key?” he asked, still reeling from their kiss. A kiss he should regret, only not right now.
“I’ll see if it’s still where she used to hide it.” While she searched for the key, Micah stared through a window.
“Samantha,” he said, grabbing her as he got in front of her. “Someone is inside.”
* * *
Samantha held to the key she’d found in a flower pot and watched as a shadow moved through the dark house. Still off-kilter from the kiss she’d shared with Micah, she stood in the warm wind, unsure what to do now. “Who could it be? Not the Kemp brothers. We would have seen them.”
“Only one person that I see,” Micah replied as he stared through the window. Then he whispered, “I think it’s a woman.”
“What?” Samantha squinted through the window by the back door. The figure turned, then they heard a scream.
“She needs help,” Micah said, trying to open the door. “Give me the key.”
Samantha shoved it at him, her heart pumping against her chest so fast she thought she’d pass out. “It might be a trap.”
Micah wasn’t listening. He got the door open and shoved it hard back against the wall. Samantha rushed past him and lunged at the woman standing in the dark, holding a frying pan. “Who are you?”
The woman screamed again and dropped the pan onto the table before she stepped out of the shadows. “Leah, Leah. It’s me. It’s Gramma. I screamed because I saw a face at the window.”
Samantha dropped her own bags and ran straight into her grandmother’s arms. “Gramma, it’s so good to see you.” Then she burst into tears.
“What’s this?” Gramma said, stroking Samantha’s head. “Why are you roaming around in the middle of the night to give me a heart attack?” She looked at Micah. “And with such a gut dear man at that?”
Micah stepped forward and held a hand on Samantha’s shoulder. “It’s wunderbar gut to see you, Martha.”
“Same here,” Martha said. “And not a minute too soon, if you ask me.” Her shrewd gaze moved over both of them. “Your clothes are torn and dirty. What have you two been up to?”
“It’s not what you might think,” Micah said. “Samantha will have to explain since it’s not my place.” Giving Samantha an apologetic glance, he stayed close as if he still wanted to protect her.
Samantha stood back and wiped her eyes. “I wanted to see you. So many bad things have happened and I made a mess of things and now I’m in danger and everyone is in danger—”
“Now, Micah,” Gramma interrupted, “please turn up a lamp and let me get the kettle going. I’m in need of some strong tea.”
Micah moved over to the small kitchen. “I’ll make the tea, Martha.”
Martha took Samantha and sat her down on a blue chair by the small settee where they used to read together. “I came home to see what all was going on,” Martha said. “And to see with my own eyes if the letters I received are true. My beautiful kleindochter has returned to Campton Creek.”
“How did you know?” Samantha asked, too overwhelmed to think straight. “Someone wrote to you?”
“Rebecca wrote to me,” Martha said while she patted Samantha’s hand. “She said you didn’t want to bother me. Once she wrote the whole story I knew I had to return.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Samantha said. “I planned to hide out here, alone.”
“Nonsense,” Gramma said, clucking like a mother hen. “Schtobbe that right now.”
Micah brought them tea and sat down across from them. “I tried to tell her to stop it. Thought it was a bad idea.”
“So did you plan to stay here with her then?” Martha asked on a stern voice, a gentleness in her eyes.
“Neh, I planned to get her here safely and leave in the daylight.”
Martha looked from Samantha to Micah. “I see you have a champion here, but it would not do well to be seen here together with no one about.”
“That’s why I told him he didn’t have to watch after me,” Samantha replied through a sniffle. “I’m a mess and you know I’m usually strong-minded and independent, Gramma.”
“Ach jah,” Martha agreed. Oh, yeah. “So explain yourselves. And, Leah, start at the beginning so my tired brain can keep up.”
Samantha took a deep breath and told her grandmother what had happened. Micah added to the story here and there and soon they had Martha up to date on the whole situation. “I’ll have to go to the police station and see what’s to happen to the Kemp boys.”
“Those two—always up to no good,” Martha said on a huff. Giving Samantha a frown, she said. “So you’ve been roaming around the community, hiding from this man?”
Samantha nodded. “If I could have made it here to your place, I think I would have been safe and no one would have known. The storm changed all of that.”
Her gramma looked from Samantha to Micah, her brown eyes bright with hope. “Er, maybe Gott changed all of that, ain’t so?”
An hour ago, Samantha wouldn’t have thought about God’s hand in this. But now, when she looked at Micah and remembered his lips touching hers, she had to wonder.
Did God have a plan for her life? Every threat she’d avoided, every fear she’d lived through, every emotion she’d experienced in discovering Leon was a dangerous man who’d used her and lied to her, and yet she’d somehow survived. Had all that she’d been through finally brought her home? And would Micah play a role in her future?
FIFTEEN
True to his word, Micah had slept on the small sofa until around four in the morning. Then he’d silently left and found his way back to Isaac’s house to take his horse and buggy home. Isaac had put the horse in a stall and left the buggy nearby. He came out of the house just as Micah had harnessed the horse, Patch on his heels.
“So, young Micah, how did it go last night?”
Micah lifted Patch in his arms and told Isaac what had happened. “I hope to talk to Samuel and Matthew today and...I hope to check on Martha and Samantha later.”
“So Martha is back and the Kemps are in trouble. Good news and bad news, and so early in the morning at that.”
Micah nodded. “Ja, and I have the alfalfa first cutting to finish.”
“Make hay in daylight,” Isaac replied. “Rebecca can check on her friend, Martha. She’ll be so glad Martha is back.”
“Denke,” Micah said, leaving Isaac to go about his work. He had a crew coming to finish the cut, so that would give him time to go into town and get back to help the rest of the day.
Micah went by Jeremiah’s place and found his friend doing the early milking. After he explained what had happened, Jeremiah shook his head.
“Those boys have always been trouble. Now they’re stepping into criminal territory. Petty crimes so far, but still they could have killed someone.” He placed a pail of fresh goat milk on a table in the barn. “Not to mention, this man will probably try to kill them to keep them silent. Are you sure they didn’t up and leave? Someone could have been waiting nearby and picked them up. If they had planned to take Samantha, they’d have a vehicle parked close.”