Lancaster County Reckoning

by Kit Wilkinson

  He tried to kiss her again, but she pulled her head back. “Thomas, seriously. Stop. What are you talking about? Celery? And weddings? And you still haven’t told me why you shaved.”

  “Ja.” He kissed her again. “I’m getting to that part.” He cleared his throat. “I shaved because it is time—past time—for me to put my first marriage with Mary behind me. I held on to the beard all these years because I was not ready to be a single man again and risk my heart. But you changed all of that.” He got down on one knee before her.

  “Miss Darcy Simmons, I love you and have for a very long time—so I’m hoping very much that you will agree to be my wife. What do you say?”

  She was crying now and nodding. But mostly crying tears of joy. Tears she didn’t know how she could ever stop. “I love you, too. Yes, Thomas, yes. Of course, I will marry you.”

  “Good.” He stood, and kissed her again, hard and long, until they were both breathless. “God forgive me, I have wanted to do that since the minute I saw you with your little purse standing on that porch over there.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I wanted to do it for the rest of my life and at the time, that didn’t seem possible. Once you made the decision to come here and live with your father, I could hardly hold myself back... But you still had to decide whether or not to be baptized, and I thought that a lifetime with you might be worth waiting for.” He kissed her again. “You don’t know how hard it has been staying away from you.”

  “Please don’t ever do it again.” She laughed.

  “I won’t. That I can promise you. And I’ll grow my beard back. But this beard is for you. For us.”

  “Sounds perfect.” She put her hands on each of his bare cheeks. “So, now tell me, when were you planning for us to eat all of this celery that Nana has grown?”

  He smiled and picked her up into his arms, holding her close. “Well, you tell me... How fast can you make a wedding dress?”

  “Pretty fast, Mr. Nolt. Pretty fast.”

  “Gutt. I was counting on that.”

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, don’t miss Kit Wilkinson’s other stories of danger and love in Amish country

  PLAIN SECRETS

  DANGER IN AMISH COUNTRY

  “RETURN TO WILLOW TRACE”

  LANCASTER COUNTY TARGET

  Find these and other great reads

  at www.LoveInspired.com

  Keep reading for an excerpt from HIDDEN LEGACY by Lynn Huggins Blackburn

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading a copy of Lancaster County Reckoning. I hope you enjoyed the story of Darcy and Thomas. I was so happy to finally write this story, because I have wanted to do so ever since I started the Willow Trace series. I fell in love the character Thomas Nolt when I was writing Plain Secrets and felt like he had to have his own happy ending after having been so good to Hannah in book one.

  I dedicated this book to my father, who passed away suddenly while I was working on this book. He was a genius of a man who loved a good story and was a voracious reader. I will definitely miss all of his great advice and chatting to him about my writing.

  This book is also dedicated to my oldest sister, who was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s a few years ago. She has spent most of her life taking care of other people, but now depends on others to take care of her. I wish a million blessings to those of you who take care of her—Greg, Charneise, Tamera, Cindy, Mom and my nieces and nephew.

  If you or someone you love is suffering from Alzheimer’s, my prayers to you.

  With all my love,

  Kit

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.

  You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired Suspense every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Join Harlequin My Rewards & Instantly earn a FREE ebook of your choice.

  Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever & whenever you shop.

  Turn your points into FREE BOOKS.

  Don’t miss out. Reward the book lover in you!

  Register Today & Earn a FREE BOOK*

  *New members who join before December 31st, 2017 will receive 2000 points redeemable for eligible titles.

  Click here to register

  Or visit us online to register at

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010001

  Hidden Legacy

  by Lynn Huggins Blackburn

  ONE

  The house had been ransacked.

  Caroline Harrison squeezed baby Henry closer. Her chest tightened, and each breath came as a spasm as she took in the scene. Chair and sofa cushions lay scattered around the living room. Glass from a shattered vase littered the rug. Two plants had crashed to the floor, their leaves and soil mingled with books yanked from the bookcase.

  Who had done this?

  Why?

  What if they were still here?

  A scraping noise from the back of the house answered her silent question. Her skin tingled, and acid filled her mouth.

  She had to get out. Now. Her parents’ home was a quarter of a mile back down the winding mountain road. Too far to run with a sixteen-month-old in her arms.

  She needed to get to her car. Once she got away, she’d call 911 and wait for the police. She backed up, one slow step at a time, reaching into her pocket for her keys.

  Keys that weren’t there.

  She patted the other jacket pocket. Also empty. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she kept moving—closing the distance between the den and the garage, where the safety of her car waited.

  What had she done with her keys?

  Her mind spun, retracing her steps.

  She’d pulled into her dark garage, frustrated that the bulbs in the garage door opener had blown out—again. She’d grabbed the diaper bag—

  That was it. The keys were in the diaper bag.

  She’d dropped the bag on the table by the door as she’d entered. She continued to ease backward toward the garage, taking each step with care. Maybe whoever was inside was so busy stealing something they hadn’t noticed her arrival. The longer they stayed occupied, the better her chance of getting away.

  Henry slept on, oblivious to the unfolding drama.

  Her hand closed around the strap of the overflowing diaper bag. Why hadn’t she cleaned it out this morning? If anything fell out on the floor as she made her escape...

  She slid the strap over her shoulder and reached behind her with her free hand. She’d find the keys after she got in the car.

  She hadn’t realized her palms were sweating until she couldn’t grip the doorknob. She rubbed her free hand on her pants and tried again. The knob turned without a sound, but as she opened the door, she braced for the chime from her security system that usually alerted her to any opened door or window.

  Nothing happened.

  The burglar had disabled her alarm. She hurried down the two steps that led into the garage, every cell in her body screaming for her to go faster, every neuron in her brain urging her to move with more caution. She pulled th
e door behind her, stopping short of closing it all the way.

  With her free hand out to keep from crashing into her car, she crept around to the driver’s side. She opened the door, and the click of the handle ricocheted around the room. Anyone in the house could have heard that. Or not. Maybe it only seemed loud because she was hyperaware of every sound. Her blood pounded and her breath rasped, despite her best efforts to make no noise. Opening the door activated the car’s dome light, and she hit three wrong buttons before she managed to extinguish it. She settled into the seat, sweet Henry still resting on her shoulder.

  She couldn’t risk opening the back door to strap him into his seat. What if he woke up and started crying? As soon as she was sure they were safe, she’d stop and secure him.

  She eased the door closed and fumbled with the diaper bag, digging in the pockets for the keys.

  Come on, come on. They had to be here.

  Where were they?

  Her hand closed over her cell phone, and she grabbed it and punched 911 as she continued to search for her stupid keys. Why, oh why, hadn’t she purchased the car with the keyless ignition? It had seemed like such a pointless feature at the time. She’d give anything for it now.

  “911, what’s your emergency?” The operator’s voice echoed through the car.

  “My name is Caroline Harrison,” she whispered. “I live at 2200 Mountain View Drive. My home has been broken into. I think the person is still in the house.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “In my car in the garage, but I can’t find my keys.”

  “I’m sending someone now. We have a unit not far from you.”

  “Tell them to hurry!”

  “Stay on the line with me, Ms. Harrison.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “No. I have my...my...son.” She didn’t have time to explain the complicated relationship she had with this sweet child. And he was her son. It would be official in two weeks.

  “How old is he?”

  “Sixteen months.”

  Finally!

  Her fingers wrapped around the keys. She shoved the diaper bag into the passenger seat and rested the keys on her leg, tracing each one in the dark to find the car key.

  Her hands shook and she pulled in a triumphant breath when she slid the right one in the ignition. She didn’t turn it yet—didn’t want the noise of the engine to alert her intruder. She’d make sure she was ready to exit first.

  She reached for the button on her visor that would activate the garage door opener, but the door into the house opened. She bit back a scream as a man’s silhouette appeared and stalked toward her.

  “There’s someone here.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Harrison, I didn’t quite catch that. Did you say there was someone—”

  “He’s coming—”

  She was out of time. No sense in hiding now. She reached for the garage door opener again. She wasn’t going to sit here and wait for him to do whatever he planned to do.

  She pressed the button. Again. And again. Why wasn’t it opening?

  The horrible truth overwhelmed her. He must have known she was in here. While she’d thought she was getting away undetected, he’d managed to disable her garage door. Probably flipped the breaker in the laundry room. There was no way her little Camry could drive through the garage door, but she had to try.

  She turned the key. In the light filtering in from the house, she saw the gun in his hand.

  He aimed it at her window.

  * * *

  Detective Jason Drake pulled his Ford Explorer into the restaurant parking lot and answered his cell phone. “Hey, Michael. I’m here,” he said. He and Michael Ellis had met for dinner almost every Thursday night since he’d come to work for the Henderson County Sheriff’s Office six months ago.

  “Sorry, man. I’m not going to make it. Dispatch called.”

  “Like that’s a surprise,” Jason said. It had taken him all of two days on the job to realize his old friend had a soft spot for the dispatcher.

  “It’s not like that,” Michael said. “We got a call from the Harrisons.”

  The Harrisons. He fought the memories pounding on the door of his heart. “Is something wrong at the plant?”

  “No. The call came from Caroline Harrison.”

  The mention of her name opened the floodgates, and memories engulfed him. Big blue eyes flashing in laughter at a private joke. Full lips curved into a smile that was only for him. The many times he’d held her hand. The one time he’d held her in his arms.

  “She said there was an armed intruder at her house.”

  Jason floored it. “I’m on my way.”

  His phone rang one minute later. The sheriff.

  “Drake, we have a situation at Caroline Harri—”

  Despite his respect for his boss, Jason cut the man off. “Yes, sir, I heard.”

  “I want you to take the lead on this.”

  Good. Now he had an excuse to be there. Not that it would have mattered. He had to make sure Caroline was all right.

  “Of course, sir. I’m on my way.”

  “Jason, I want this case solved fast, you hear me? And I want you to do whatever you have to do to keep Caroline Harrison safe.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  It took five agonizing minutes to reach the Harrisons’ gated driveway. One uniformed officer stood there, blocking the path up the mountain.

  Jason rolled down his window and the young man—Dan? Dave? He’d figure it out later—approached his window.

  “Hey, Jason. You here for the excitement, too, huh? It’s a madhouse up there.”

  Jason could sense the kid’s disappointment about not being more directly involved, but he didn’t have time to play nice with... Dalton. That was it. “What’s the status?”

  “The house is secure. Caroline and the baby are fine, just shook up. No idea where the intruder is.”

  “Thanks.” He started to roll up the window.

  “Hey.” Dalton put a hand out. “You know where you’re going, right? Caroline’s place is past the senior Harrisons’ about a quarter of a mile.”

  He knew. This driveway was one long memory. He drove past the short drive to the house where her brother, Blake, lived with his daughter and his new wife, Heidi. He hadn’t had a chance to meet her yet.

  As he approached Caroline’s parents’ home, the activity level increased. Officers and patrol cars with lights flashing dotted the mountain. The house glowed like a beacon. He’d spent so many happy hours in that house. Jeffrey and Eleanor had always welcomed him. Until he blew it with Caroline.

  He forced his mind back to the present. Dwelling on the mistakes of the past wouldn’t change anything.

  He followed the driveway past the Harrisons’ home and farther up the mountain. They’d hiked to the top of this mountain more than once, and Caroline always said this was where she wanted to live. At sixteen, she hadn’t been sure her dad would sell her the land.

  Of course, Jeffrey Harrison had done one better. Jason could still remember the excitement in his mom’s voice as she’d filled him in. “Caroline stopped by last week,” she’d said. “She’s so excited. Jeffrey and Eleanor gave her the top of the mountain for her twenty-fifth birthday. She’s meeting with an architect this week and planning her dream house.”

  He eased around a final curve. Dream house, indeed.

  She’d always been fond of stonework, and the house blended seamlessly into the mountain. Positioned as it was, the views from the deck would be breathtaking, but only one view captured his mind.

  Caroline Harrison.

  Even after all this time, he couldn’t look at her without seeing his long-lost best friend. If only he could erase that ni
ght. That one conversation. That one kiss that had ruined everything. If he’d kept his mouth shut...

  No. It had been the right decision then. Still was. Still hurt.

  He stepped from the car and made his way through the throng of first responders, most of whom he knew were off duty. He couldn’t fault them. Armed intruders weren’t part of the daily grind in Etowah, North Carolina.

  He stepped into the glow shining from floodlights, and she looked into his eyes.

  “Jason.”

  It was the first time she’d willingly spoken to him in thirteen years, and in her voice he heard a whisper of hope. Not hope for the future they could never have. But maybe hope for the forgiveness he did not deserve.

  She offered him a wavering smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  An olive branch? “Me, too.” He stared into her eyes a few moments longer than he should have. So many things needed to be said, but they would have to wait. Michael and a young officer were headed their way.

  “Heard you’d been assigned the case,” Michael said.

  “Yeah. Bring me up to speed.”

  Copyright © 2017 by Lynn Huggins Blackburn

  ISBN-13: 9781488019234

  Lancaster County Reckoning

  Copyright © 2017 by Kit Wilkinson

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, M3B 3K9 Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.