by Mary Alford
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 terribl
e 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.