by Laura Scott
Peering around the starkly furnished Amish home, Noah expected to see Eli. “Is your grandfather asleep?” he asked.
“Dawdy died two months ago,” the young one said.
“And your father?”
“He died in the same buggy accident.”
Noah’s gut tightened. “There are just you two boys?”
They nodded.
“And Mamm,” the younger one answered. His fingers latched onto his mother’s arm, which was hanging limp. Tears welled in his eyes.
“She’s going to be okay.” Although Noah wanted to reassure the child, he wasn’t sure of any such thing. Ruthie had been used as a punching bag. Internal injuries could be deceptive and hard to diagnose. She needed a doctor, but knowing the Amish way was to treat first and use medical care as a last option, he would assess her injuries before he talked about taking her to the hospital in Willkommen.
The boys led him into a small bedroom. The covers on the bed had been thrown back. Ruthie’s slippers sat on the floor. Carefully, he removed her muddy robe and laid her on the bed.
“Datt said we deserved it whenever we were hurt,” the little one whispered. “But Mamm did not deserve to be beaten. Ever.”
Had she been beaten before? “Did either of you see the person who hurt your mamm?”
Both boys shook their heads.
Noah touched her cheek. “Ruthie?”
She moaned.
“Talk to her, boys.”
“Mamm, look at me. It’s Andrew.” The youngest one leaned over his mother and kissed her cheek.
Noah’s heart tightened.
The other boy, his face shadowed, touched her hair. “Open your eyes, Mamm. Simon wants to see your blue eyes.”
Andrew started to cry.
Noah put his arm around the young child and drew him close. “Shhh,” he soothed.
The older boy turned to the nightstand. He struck a match and lit the oil lamp.
With the sudden burst of light, Ruthie’s eyes blinked open. She stared at Noah, her brow furrowed with puzzlement.
“Your boys are safe,” he assured her.
“Andrew?” She tried to raise her head.
“Here I am, Mamm.”
“And Simon?” Slowly, she turned to look at her oldest child.
Noah followed her gaze, seeing the boy more clearly in the lamplight. Tall and lean, he had a shock of brown hair about the same shade as Noah’s. Dark eyes, a strong nose and square jaw. One eyebrow arched slightly higher than the other. His lips were full. He offered his mother a weak smile, revealing dimples on each cheek.
Noah’s gut tightened. He raised his hand to his own face. The realization hit him hard as he stared at the boy who looked surprisingly like him.
“Why did you come back, Noah?” Ruthie asked, her tone bitter as she turned to stare at him. “You left once—why did you return to Amish Mountain?”
Before seeing Simon in the light, he would have told her he was here to sell his deceased father’s house and farm. Now he realized something other than his father’s passing had brought him back to the mountain. Was it Divine Providence? Whether God was involved, he would never know, but one thing was certain—Noah had been led back to Amish Mountain to find his son.
Copyright © 2020 by Deborah W. Giusti
Return to River Haven where a mysterious stranger will bring two lonely hearts together...
Amish quilt shop owner Joanna Kohler treasures her independence. But, when she finds an injured woman on her property, she is grateful for the help of fellow store owner Noah Troyer, who feels it’s his duty to aid, especially when dangers draws close.
Read on for a sneak peek of
Amish Protector
by Marta Perry
Home again. Joanna Kohler moved to the door as the small bus that connected the isolated Pennsylvania valley towns drew up to the stop at River Haven.
Another few steps brought her to the quilt shop where she paused, gazing with pleasure at the window display she’d put up over the weekend. Smiling at her own enthusiasm for the shop she and her aunt ran, she rounded the corner and headed back the alley toward the enclosed stairway that lead to their apartment above the shop.
A glow of lamplight from the back of the hardware store next door allowed her to cross to the yard to her door without her flashlight. Noah Troyer, her neighbor, must be working late. Her side of the building was in darkness, since Aunt Jessie was away.
Joanna fitted her key into the lock, and the door swung open almost before she’d turned it. Collecting her packages, she started up the steps, not bothering to switch on her penlight. The stairway familiar enough, and she didn’t need—
Her foot hit something. Joanna stumbled forward, grabbing at the railing to keep herself from falling. What in the world...? Reaching out, her hand touched something soft, warm, something that felt like human flesh. She gasped, pulling back.
Clutching her self-control with all her might, Joanna grasped the penlight, aimed it, and switched it on.
A woman lay sprawled on the stairs. The beam touched high-heeled boots, jeans, a suede jacket. Stiffening her courage, she aimed the light higher. The woman was young, Englisch, with brown hair that hung to her shoulders. It might have been soft and shining if not for the bright blood that matted it.
Panic sent her pulses racing, and she uttered a silent prayer, reaching tentatively to touch the face. Warm...thank the gut Lord. She...whoever she was...was breathing. Now Joanna must get her the help she needed.
Hurrying, fighting for control, Joanna scrambled back down the steps. She burst out into the quiet yard. Even as she stepped outside, she realized it would be faster to go to Noah’s back door than around the building.
Running now, she reached the door in less than a minute and pounded on it, calling his name. “Noah!”
After a moment that felt like an hour, light spilled out. Noah Troyer filled the doorway, staring at her, his usually stoic face startled. “Joanna, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
A shudder went through her. “Not me, no. There’s a woman...” She pointed toward her door, explanations deserting her. “Komm, schnell.” Grabbing his arm, she tugged him along.
By the time they reached her door, Noah was ahead of her. “We’ll need a light.”
“Here.” She pressed the penlight into his hand, feeling her control seeping back. Knowing she wasn’t alone had a steadying effect, and Noah’s staid calm was infectious. “I was just coming in. I started up the steps and found her.” She couldn’t keep her voice from shaking a little.
The penlight’s beam picked out the woman’s figure. It wasn’t just a nightmare, then.
Noah bent over the woman, touching her face as Joanna had done. Then he turned back, his strong body a featureless silhouette.
“Who is she?”
The question startled her. “I don’t know. I didn’t even think about it—I just wanted to get help. We must call the police and tell them to send paramedics, too.”
Not wasting time, Noah was already half-way out. “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve called. Yell if...” He let that trail off, but she understood. He’d be there if she needed him.
But she’d be fine. She was a grown woman, a businesswoman, not a skittish girl. Given all it had taken her to reach this point, she had to act the part.
Joanna settled as close to the woman as she could get on the narrow stairway. After a moment’s hesitation, she put her hand gently on the woman’s wrist. The pulse beat steadily under her touch, and Joanna’s fear subsided slightly. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
The darkness and the silence grew oppressive, and she shivered. If only she had a blanket...she heard the thud of Noah’s hurrying footsteps. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“They’re on their way. I’d best stay by the d
oor so I can flag them down when they come. How is she?”
“No change.” Worry broke through the careful guard she’d been keeping. “What if she’s seriously injured? What if I’m to blame? She fell on my steps, after all.”
“Ach, Joanna, that’s foolishness.” Noah’s deep voice sounded firmly from the darkness. “It can’t be your fault, and most likely she’ll be fine in a day or two.”
Noah’s calm, steady voice was reassuring, and she didn’t need more light to know that his expression was as steady and calm as always.
“Does anything get under your guard?” she said, slightly annoyed that he could take the accident without apparent stress.
“Not if I can help it.” There might have been a thread of amusement in his voice. “It’s enough to worry about the poor woman’s recovery without imagining worse, ain’t so?”
“I suppose.” She straightened her back against the wall, reminding herself again that she was a grown woman, owner of her own business, able to cope with anything that came along.
But she didn’t feel all that confident right now. She felt worried. Whatever Noah might say, her instinct was telling her that this situation meant trouble. How and why she didn’t know, but trouble, nonetheless.
Don’t miss what happens next in...
Amish Protector
by Marta Perry!
Available April 2020 wherever HQN books and ebooks are sold.
www.Harlequin.com
Copyright © 2020 by Martha P. Johnson
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ISBN: 9781488061035
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Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Laura Scott for her contribution to the True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn miniseries.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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