Dangerous Amish Showdown

by Mary Alford

  The hopelessness in his eyes was hard to witness. No matter what, she wouldn’t let him take on the burden alone. “We’ll figure it out together. Let’s take a moment.” She remembered her mamm saying that many times growing up. When things seem impossible, take a step back and talk to Gott.

  She breathed in deep and then noticed blood on his jacket. “You’re bleeding again. Were you shot?”

  Mason struggled out of his jacket. Blood stained the front of his shirt near his shoulder wound. “It must have reopened.”

  The sight of the blood brought home how serious their situation truly had become. “Let me check the bandage.” She started to examine the wound, but Mason reached for her wrist and stopped her.

  “I’m fine.” He held her gaze. “We can’t count on anyone else coming to our aid. We’ll have to do what we can to secure the house and keep them from gaining entrance.”

  But it would be a temporary solution. Without help, it was only a matter of time before Bartelli’s men came for them.

  Willa squared her shoulders. Mason and everyone else in the house counted on her to pull her weight, and she wouldn’t let any of them down. “What do you need me to do?”

  Admiration shone in his eyes. “First thing is to make sure we secure the doors and windows. Do you have a hammer and nails?”

  The request took her by surprise. “I think Daed kept some in one of the kitchen drawers. I’ll get them.”

  Willa went to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers until she found a handful of nails and an old hammer, then she went to check on Erik, who leaned against the side of the sofa.

  “I’m okay,” he murmured when she shook him gently. “Is Mason safe?”

  She knelt beside him and felt his forehead. It was cool to the touch. A gut thing. “He is. We are securing the doors and windows.” She held up the hammer and nails. But they needed to get Erik to a safer spot.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “I’m fine here for now. Get the house secured before they try to break in.”

  She squeezed his arm. “We will. And then we will come get you.”

  Willa left him for the moment and returned to Mason. She told him about Erik.

  “He’s safe for now, but I’d prefer to have him with Beth and Samantha. As soon as we have the back entry secured, I’ll get him.” Mason moved to the door. He turned with a thoughtful look on his face.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “You said you know your neighbor behind you fairly well?”

  She had no idea where he was going with this. “That’s right. Mr. Connors comes by and checks on us from time to time. He’s a gut man.”

  “Is he familiar with your animals? Would he know the mare belonged here should the animal happen on his property?”

  The truth dawned quickly. “Jah, I believe so.” Hope began to take hold.

  “It’s something. Regardless, we can’t leave the animal attached to the buggy. It could get shot. I’m going to free her. Hopefully, she’ll head away from the house where all the gunshots are and toward Connors’s place.”

  But if Mason went outside again... “It’s too dangerous.” Willa sat the hammer and nails down and moved closer. “You could die.”

  “I don’t have a choice. It’s a long shot that may not work, but I have to do something.” He held her gaze. “If we don’t do it, everyone will die.”

  The truth struck like a blow. They were all out of options.

  He returned to the window and parted the curtains. “There’s no one back there,” he said in a bewildered tone. “Kind of strange since they had to see the direction I went. I’m surprised they haven’t kicked in the door by now.” He frowned as he surveyed the backyard. “Stand guard at the door.”

  She slowly nodded. Mason checked the window one final time. “I don’t see anyone, but they could be hiding in the woods.” Willa picked up on his unease. Would he be walking into a setup?

  He moved to the door with her. “Stay out of sight as best you can.” His gaze held hers for a long moment. “We’re running low on bullets. Only shoot if you have a clear shot of hitting someone.”

  Mason unlocked the door and slowly opened it. She couldn’t imagine how much courage it took to step outside.

  Willa kept the door cracked enough to see the back of the house. The family’s old smokehouse was in her line of sight between the house and the woods. Mamm’s chicken coop wasn’t far from it with all her little feathered friends inside.

  Mason ducked down low and eased himself across the porch to the buggy without opposition. He slowly moved to the front where the mare stood with her ears at alert and eyes wild.

  The slightest of movement in the woods to the left of the house grabbed her attention.

  “Mason, to your left.” A glint warned her that their attackers had expected this move and were ready for it. Willa pointed the weapon toward the glint and fired. Metal tinged off metal. A scream followed. She tucked behind the door but kept her eyes on the woods.

  Mason worked quickly to release the horse. He slapped its flank hard. The animal whinnied fearfully and thundered off behind the house away from the danger. And in the direction of Ethan Connors’s place. Willa prayed the animal wouldn’t stop before it reached her neighbor’s ranch.

  A second man appeared at the tree line and began shooting in Willa’s direction. She stooped. Several shots lodged into the door frame where she’d stood moments earlier. Mason. He was still out there. Every second meant danger and possible death.

  When the shooting lulled, Willa carefully peered past the door. Mason hunkered down near the wheel of the buggy. Her vision darted from him to the woods once more. Where had the second shooter gone?

  Mason spotted her standing there and waved her back inside. Willa ignored his concern and focused on the woods. The shooter reappeared with another man. They stepped into the opening, their weapons drawn and ready. Mason wouldn’t stand a chance against so many.

  Willa shot again, and they retreated. She ran for Mason. “Hurry.” Her hand circled his arm. They just had time to make it through the door when an all-too-familiar sound of gunshots erupted. A round of bullets flew through the house jamming into walls. She and Mason hit the floor. Mason scrambled over to the door and relocked it.

  He gathered her close and moved away from the danger zone. “I don’t think that lock will hold up should they try to break in. We need something heavy to put against the door to help secure it.” Mason shook his head. “They’re waiting for someone. That’s the only explanation for why they haven’t already stormed the house.”

  Willa struggled to think of something they could use. Her mamm’s dresser would work for the back door. She’d have to find something else for the front entrance.

  A noise nearby had them both whirling toward it. Samantha slipped from Mamm’s room, her tiny face distorted with fear. She spotted Mason and ran into his arms. “I’m scared, Mr. Mason.”

  “Oh, honey.” Mason scooped her up despite the strain on his reopened wound. He held the frightened child while she hid her face against his chest.

  “Mamm has a heavy dresser in her room. We could pull it against the door.” Would it be enough to keep so many from breaking in?

  “That will work. Help me get it to the back door. We’ll have to find something else to block the front.”

  Willa went to speak to Mamm along with Mason, who cradled Samantha close. Golden Boy, in a perpetual state of agitation, stood at the foot of the bed with his hackles up, a low whine coming from his throat.

  Her mother’s fearful expression darted between them. “Those shots came from the back of the house. Are we surrounded?”

  “There are a lot of men,” Mason told her, and explained about the horse.

  “Do you think Ethan will come to our aid?”

/>   Willa turned to Mason. He appeared to be weighing his answer. “There’s a slim chance, but I’m worried he will be walking into an ambush if he does. He could be killed.”

  Willa shivered. “I know he was once in the military, but still, this is not something he would be expecting.”

  Mason carried Samantha to Mamm’s bed. “Can you be strong for me?”

  Her huge tearful eyes held his. She slowly nodded. “Stay here with Beth and Golden Boy while Willa and I secure the doors and windows.”

  Samantha wiped her eyes. “O-kay.”

  Mason smiled at the child’s bravery. “Good girl. I’ll be right back as soon as we’ve finished securing the house.”

  Samantha scooched close to Mamm, watching them move the dresser.

  As soon as they’d gotten the object from the room, Willa closed the door. The less her mother and Samantha witnessed of what happened outside the walls of the bedroom, the better.

  Working together, they pushed and pulled the dresser over to the back door and shoved it as close as they could possibly get it.

  “That should at least provide some resistance.” He straightened and surveyed the blocked entrance. “Let’s get Erik back to Beth’s room, and then we’ll secure the front door and fortify the windows.”

  Mason headed into the living room and to his partner.

  With Willa’s help, they got Erik to his feet. “We’re moving you to a safer place,” he told Erik.

  Moving slowly, they reached Beth’s room and all but carried Erik over to the rocker in the corner.

  With Erik settled, Mason went over to Mamm’s bed. “I’m sorry about this, Beth. I know this is the last thing you need to be dealing with.”

  Mamm never hesitated in speaking her mind. “No matter what happens here, you are an honorable man, and you are doing what Gott wishes you to do to protect this precious kinna. And us.”

  Yet with a virtual army of bad men gunning for them, and no one coming to their aide, Willa couldn’t imagine the pressure resting on Mason’s shoulders.

  When the sun set on this day, she wondered if any of them would be alive to tell the truth about what really happened here today.

  EIGHT

  Doing what God wished? Beth’s sentiments burrowed deep down into his heart like a bullet, and they felt just as dangerous. Like a physical blow. If anyone didn’t deserve to be called an instrument of God, it was him. He’d made so many wrong moves in life. Hurt people close to him. Why would God choose to use him?

  The woman slowly wasting away in her bed had more faith than he’d had in a long time. The realization embarrassed him. At one point, God had held a treasured part of his heart.

  He forced a smile and squeezed Beth’s hand before turning his attention to Samantha. “Try not to worry. We’re safe.” He didn’t know for certain, but this little girl shouldn’t have to hear his doubts. He had to be strong for her where others had failed.

  Samantha’s frightened eyes clung to his. She’d lived through so many bad things. She deserved to have nothing but happiness from here on out.

  The child hugged him tight with those little arms while her body trembled. He’d asked her to be strong for him many times in the past. When did she get to be just a normal little girl again?

  Over the top of Samantha’s head, Mason sought out Willa. She would stand beside him and do whatever he asked her to because she trusted him.

  “We need to get the front door secured before they breach it.”

  You are doing what Gott wishes you to do to protect this precious kinna.

  Beth’s words wouldn’t go away. He swallowed several times, trying to fight past feelings of inadequacy. He’d failed so many people in the past. Would this be yet another example of his unworthiness with a high price tag attached to it?

  Mason held Samantha tight and did something he hadn’t done since he was a young man living here.

  Help me. The words slipped out, unfamiliar like a foreign language. He waited, unsure of what he expected. Maybe the ceiling to fly away and the skies to part. God’s voice to assure him everything would work out. None of those things happened and he forced down his regret and slowly untangled Samantha’s little arms from his neck. “Be strong for me.”

  Samantha’s solemn eyes appeared so grown up. “I will try, Mr. Mason.”

  The trust on her sweet face strengthened his resolve. They might be outnumbered by Bartelli’s men with no means of reaching out to anyone, but he was a trained marshal. He wouldn’t let Bartelli hurt this little girl or anyone else in this house.

  He was so proud of Samantha. “That’s my girl.” He nodded to Willa and they stepped out of the room. Mason quietly closed the door with hands that shook. The stakes were so high.

  “We can use Mamm’s hutch in the kitchen to secure the front door.”

  Mason smiled down at her and touched her face. “That should work.” Though he didn’t say as much, Mason was sure she understood that everything they were doing at this point would provide little resistance against Bartelli’s determined men.

  With her at his side, he went to the kitchen.

  “Do you remember when your daed made the hutch for my mother?”

  He did. “Absolutely. Fletcher and I helped my father bring it over on the wagon. I remember Beth was pleased to get it set up in the kitchen.”

  “Yes, she was.”

  Beth had loved the piece so much. She hadn’t stopped thanking Mason’s father for making it. As one of the few things Beth had that she treasured, he hated using it with the realization it would probably get shot up, but if it meant the difference between saving lives or not, there was no question what Beth would want him to do.

  “I’ll empty it first.” Willa removed the dishes Beth kept inside while Mason gave her a hand.

  Once they’d finished, they worked together to move the hutch into the living room and against the door. Would it be strong enough to withstand the storm coming their way? He sure hoped so.

  “What do we do now?”

  Mason looked at her pretty face and wished he had a good answer for her. They’d done everything possible to secure the doors. “We nail the windows shut and wait and pray someone—perhaps your neighbor—has heard the gunshots and called the sheriff.”

  The disappointment on her face confirmed this was not the answer she’d hoped for. But he couldn’t make her promises that might not happen.

  With Willa’s help, he finished securing the rest of the windows in the house.

  “That is the last one,” Willa said once they’d finished with the window over the kitchen sink.

  Too restless to sit around and wait for what was coming next, Mason went to the back of the house and checked the backyard. The horseless buggy obscured part of his view. He moved to another window that afforded a different vantage point. From here, the smokehouse and the chicken coop blocked part of the woods from sight. Where had the shooters gone? What were they waiting for?

  His mind went back to why the men were basically standing down. “I don’t understand it. They have us on our heels. Why not storm the house?” He blew out a sigh. “I’m glad they haven’t, though. We’re low on ammo.” Yet he had to believe they were waiting for someone. He turned to Willa as frustration took hold. It was the only explanation. Bartelli wasn’t one to hesitate. His people had come here for a purpose.

  She came to the same conclusion as he did. “You think they are waiting for something to happen?”

  Mason latched on to her face. “More likely, someone to arrive.” From the scant information they’d been able to obtain on how Bartelli handled most of his hits, other than the way things had gone down with Samantha’s parents, the man always had his second-in-command handle his dirty work.

  To this date, no one had been able to get close enough to the organization and live to tell anything abou
t this man.

  “I think they’re waiting for Bartelli’s second-in-command,” Mason told her. If Bartelli’s people were awaiting Ombra’s arrival, things were about to get really bad. Rumor had it, the man’s penchant for torture made Bartelli look like a choirboy.

  Willa’s eyes reflected fear. “I can’t believe you have no idea who this man is.”

  He scrubbed a hand across weary eyes. “The commands filter down the ranks from Bartelli to Ombra, and then to a series of midlevel lieutenants before they reach Bartelli’s men on the streets who work with the gangs to arrange gun sales. The only way we were able to originally tie the weapons to Bartelli was through the ship manifesto that brought them into the country. It was registered under Lucian’s name.”

  Willa visibly shuddered. “Such evil is terrifying.”

  Mason reached for her hand. “Yes, it is. The deeper I dig into Bartelli’s history, the more I’m reminded how far removed that way of life is from the Amish faith. That such different spectrums of good and bad can exist in the world is mind-boggling. It reminds me how much I’ve missed this simple world.”

  She smiled gently. “You’re missed here, as well. By your family. Your bruders. Eli. Your mamm.”

  Eli missed him? Impossible after all the turmoil he’d caused by accusing Eli of stealing Miriam’s affections away. Instead of staying and accepting the truth—and realizing his anger with his brother was the result of something much deeper—he’d left his family and God. How could he expect forgiveness?

  He stuffed the bad down deep. He’d gotten good at that, and there were far worse things coming their way—especially if Ombra had any part in them.

  “Let’s look in on Erik and see how he’s holding up. I’d like to check on Beth and Samantha, too. Then, for my own peace of mind, let’s double-check all the entry points.” Because the waiting was the hardest. He glanced Willa’s way. She smiled sadly.

  He let her hand go and went to Beth’s room where Erik didn’t appear to have moved. Mason hurried to his partner’s side and checked and found a faint pulse. A helpless feeling settled over him. He couldn’t imagine losing his partner to Bartelli’s evil plots. Erik’s family didn’t deserve any of this.