Amish Hideout (Amish Witness Protection Book 1)

by Maggie K. Black

  “What did you tell him?” Jonathan asked.

  “The truth.” Amos’s strong arms crossed his broad chest. “That I have not seen the woman he is looking for and we are closing for a family emergency.” Then he turned to Miriam, and an unexpected sweetness filled his gaze. “Miri, this is my brother, Jonathan, the Englischer US marshal.”

  Jonathan turned to Miriam and nodded. “It is very wonderful to meet you. I’m sorry the circumstances are not better. I’m looking for the woman I came in the store with. Have you seen her?”

  She nodded and pulled the two small boys closer to her.

  “It is a joy to meet you,” she said. “You have already met Mark. These are our other boys, David and Samuel.” Her eyes darted to the sidewalk, then back to Jonathan. “Come.”

  She led them through the store to the display table and pulled up the cloth. Two women in Amish clothing hid under the table, their white starched prayer caps close together as if in prayer.

  “You can come out,” Miriam said softly. “It’s safe for now. He’s gone. But stay low.”

  The young woman Amos had called Rosie slipped out first. But it was the second woman who seemed to catch his very breath in her hand and hold it. A long gray cape was draped around her shoulders, a white cap sat pinned over her blond hair. Green eyes met his.

  Celeste! Thank You, Gott!

  He crouched down, reached for her hands and helped her up. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  “Doppel-Dex.” The name slipped from her lips in a gasp of fear. Her hand tightened in his. “I saw him outside. Then he walked through the doors and Rosie hid me.”

  “And the quick change into Amish clothing?” he asked.

  “That was Mark’s idea,” she said. “Mark said something in Pennsylvania Dutch about how my clothes looked exactly like the picture. Dexter didn’t understand him, but Rosie did. She grabbed clothes and helped me get changed as best as we could in hiding.”

  He glanced from his brother, Amos, to the family that he didn’t know he had. Gratitude filled his heart.

  “You saved her,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Celeste turned to Jonathan. “We need to get out of here and fast. These lovely people have done more than enough, and I don’t want them in danger.”

  She was right. True, Doppel-Dex was gone and Amos had locked the door behind him, but he was still between them and the truck and there was no telling what he’d do. He turned to his brother. Conflicted feelings churned in Amos’s eyes, as if his heart was being overwhelmed by more emotions than he knew how to process. Miriam’s hand brushed her husband’s arm. His touched her shoulder protectively. Her hands slid gently to her stomach.

  “This woman is in trouble,” she said gently. “We must help her escape.”

  Amos reached for his wife’s hands, enveloping them in his own.

  “My responsibility is to protect you,” Amos told his wife in Pennsylvania Dutch, his voice husky in a way Jonathan had never heard before.

  “And you always do,” his wife replied. “Now God is calling us to help them.”

  As Jonathan watched, he saw an understanding dawn in his eyes that he knew an hour-long conversation of his most persuasive arguments could never have accomplished.

  “Jonathan,” Celeste said softly. “We can’t let them help us.”

  “Trust me,” he whispered, knowing those words were far too little and yet all he could say. “Please.”

  He could tell by the fire that flashed in her eyes that trusting him was the last thing she wanted to do right now, and while normally he admired her tenacity, right now her patience was what he needed most of all. How would he ever explain to her what was happening? Not just that as soon as they were safe she was going to be transferred to Stacy’s protection. But that he had an Amish family he hadn’t told her about and hadn’t seen in almost a decade due to his own stubborn heart? He’d never opened up about his home life or past to anyone, and now he needed to in order to keep her alive.

  Amos’s hand landed protectively on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Tell me what you need.”

  He turned to face his brother. His eyes were serious, kind and strong.

  “I need a way out of this building and this town,” he said, “where Celeste can’t be spotted or traced. I need to get to a new vehicle that hasn’t been seen by the criminals who are after her and a way to get my truck out of town.”

  His brother ran a hand over his long beard.

  “Go with Mark,” Amos said. “He will find you clothes to change into so that they do not recognize you. There is also a basket of food in the back room I packed for lunch that you can take. You need to make a phone call and tell your people about the criminal here, yah?”

  “Yah.” Jonathan nodded. Doppel-Dex was still pacing outside, showing people Celeste’s picture. They had to hurry.

  “Okay,” Amos said. “I will take Celeste with me and the family now to the buggy. The Englischer will not look closely at one Amish woman among many. Once I have left my family at a friend’s house where I know they will be safe, I will come back with the buggy and meet you and Mark outside of town. I will then drive you to the home of an Englisch mechanic we do business with who sells old vehicles. He will have something that you can use to continue on your journey.”

  There was a finality to the way he said the word “journey.” It implied he knew his brother was passing through, and Jonathan couldn’t say he was wrong. He swallowed hard.

  “Mark has many good friends at the Englisch church,” Amos added. Something flickered in his eyes, making Jonathan suspect his brother was conflicted about how close Mark was to the Englisch. He wondered if his father was, too. “I am sure one of them can take your truck when the criminal has gone and leave it parked somewhere out of town.”

  His brother had always warned him of the evils of the outside world, and here Jonathan had come home, bringing that evil with him. He glanced from his brother’s face to the members of his family searching for words to say. Then he turned to Celeste and took both of her hands in his as a thousand unspoken words bubbled up inside him. Instead, he said, “Amos is my brother. These people are my family. Go with them. They’ll keep you safe.”

  He turned to go, trying to pull his hands from her grasp. Instead, she held on tight.

  “You have to tell me something more than that.”

  “I know,” he said. “But it’s going to have to wait.”

  He broke her gaze. There was a very real possibility that Celeste might never forgive him for not telling her that he was Amish, he thought as he followed Mark quickly through the store and into the back room. After all, in the conversations they’d had about the Amish, he’d never once told her that he’d grown up Amish or they were in his own hometown. And he knew, if he was honest, that telling himself that it was just because he was the US marshal assigned to protect her wasn’t good enough. As it was, leaving Celeste’s side had felt not unlike tearing the thin roots of something just beginning the sprout out of the soil.

  Mark led him through back rooms, full of donated clothes to be sorted, used furniture and discarded electronics. The sheer number of old televisions and computers was staggering.

  “Nobody will take them,” Mark said, as if clocking Jonathan’s gaze. “They never do. Mamm has gotten people to come in and fix them, but everybody wants something new.”

  Mark pulled a white shirt out of a bag and fished a pair of suspenders out of another one. Then he handed him a coat and hat off a set of hooks by the door.

  “Thank you,” Jonathan said, quickly trading his clothes for the ones Mark offered.

  “No problem.” Mark shifted his weight from one foot to another like he wanted to ask a question but didn’t know how.

  Jonathan slipped his apartment key and the memory stick of data off his key chain, slid them into his pocket and
handed Mark the truck keys. “You’ll find it out front. Blue Ford. Dented back fender. Hershey plates.”

  Mark nodded and took the keys. Jonathan watched as deep worry and pain filled the young man’s eyes. He suspected the person Mark was worried for wasn’t himself.

  “You look like you want to say something,” Jonathan said.

  “Your brother is a very good man,” Mark said. “So is your father. They took very good care of us and welcomed us into their family.”

  A family that Jonathan had abandoned.

  “And I hurt them very much,” Jonathan supplied. Mark nodded. “I was angry about my mother’s death. Amos and I were fighting about everything. He wanted me to step up and get baptized. I couldn’t talk to my father. The way he talked about God made no sense to me. I thought God wanted me to be a cop. Maybe He did. But I went about it the wrong way.”

  “Amos will forgive you and help you,” Mark said. He shifted his weight from one foot to another as if weighing his words. “Because he is a good man. When he tells your father, Grossdaadi Eli will forgive you for being so close to the farm and not visiting.”

  His words cut Jonathan deeper than Mark would ever know.

  “Do you think that they are wrong to forgive me?” he asked.

  “No, I am worried you will hurt them even more,” Mark said. “Especially Grossdaadi Eli. He is growing old. When Mamm and Amos married, he was slow. Now he is much slower. You have to sit, then wait and wait for him to say anything. Then when he does talk it’s all from the Bible and you have to guess what he means. It’s like he knows the scripture so well that whenever his brain is slipping and can’t find the words he wants, Gott’s words are what his mind reaches for.”

  Something caught in Jonathan’s throat. Was his father slipping into early onset Alzheimer’s or dementia? Or just slowing with age? His father had always been a very quiet man and slow to speak. He’d gotten married later in life, had Jonathan when he was nearing forty and was now in his midsixties.

  “How do they feel about you having friends at the Englisch church?” Jonathan asked. He didn’t know how his father would have felt with him going to an Englisch church when he was Mark’s age, but he would’ve expected Amos to have a problem with it. Maybe Amos had changed or Jonathan had been wrong about him. Or both.

  “They know that I want to follow Gott, but don’t know yet if I want to be baptized,” Mark said. “They think I should. But I feel like Gott wants me to wait.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jonathan said. “I know how hard that can be.”

  “Do you?” Mark asked and Jonathan could sense genuine questioning in his voice. “Every time I try to talk to them about the Englisch church and baptism, I think they’re afraid of losing me like they lost you. And I could never imagine leaving my family.”

  * * *

  These people were Jonathan’s family? The thought rattled in her mind as she quickly followed Amos out of the store and onto the street the moment he gave the all clear that Doppel-Dex had gone. Rosie flanked her on one side and Miriam on the other, holding each of the boys’ hands in one of hers. Conversations she’d had with him in the diner and on the road flickered through her mind. He’d had so many opportunities to tell her about his family and hadn’t. Maybe because despite whatever warm feelings he’d kindled inside her, they weren’t actually friends or had any relationship besides the fact he’d been assigned to protect her. She’d been foolish to even imagine for one fleeting second it had been any other way.

  She scanned the street. The blue truck was still there where they’d left it. Doppel-Dex was nowhere to be seen.

  “Keep your head down,” Rosie said softly. “Amish women don’t greet strangers on the street.”

  She followed them along the street and then behind the store. There stood a magnificent dappled horse and simple black buggy sitting outside under an overhang.

  “Is the horse out here all day?” Celeste asked.

  “No,” Amos said. “Thankfully, I had just come to the store to bring my family lunch. We always pause to have a meal together.”

  She watched as he helped the boys scramble into the back of the buggy, followed by Rosie.

  Miriam smiled kindly at Celeste. “Now, watch what I do and I’ll show you how to climb up.”

  “Hey! You!” A voice, loud and vulgar, seemed to shake the quiet laneway. Her heart stopped. Doppel-Dexter charged down the quiet road toward them. “Stop!”

  Fear poured over Celeste like cold water.

  Help me, Lord. Protect me. Protect these kind people who’ve helped me.

  “Go,” Amos said quietly. “Get in the buggy.”

  But she couldn’t. Instead, her feet seemed rooted in place, just like they had back in the farmhouse tunnel. Jonathan had called it “shock,” but it felt more like she’d suddenly turned to ice, both shaking and immobile at once.

  Miriam climbed into the buggy and settled on the seat. Without a word, she reached down for Celeste’s hand.

  “I said stop!” Doppel-Dex raised his hand, brandishing a handgun. He pointed it at them like he was punctuating the sky. “Somebody said they thought they saw the girl I’m looking for go into your store.”

  Amos turned to face him. She realized Jonathan’s brother was positioning himself between her and the man who was willing to risk so much to get his hands on her.

  “My store is now closed,” Amos said. “If there was a girl in there, she is not there now.”

  Doppel-Dex stopped just feet away from them. He was so close that Celeste could smell the stench of cigars on his clothes. Who was this man? Why was he hunting her? Was he using the money Dexter had stolen to hunt her? Why did he look almost exactly like the criminal who was now in jail waiting for the day she would testify against him and put him away for good?

  And, above all, one question burned larger and larger than the rest—how had he found her?

  She kept her eyes on the ground, fighting the temptation to look up in his face and search his eyes for answers.

  “You have a very nice family here,” Doppel-Dex snarled. “You really want to risk something bad happening to them by protecting some woman you don’t even know?”

  Amos didn’t answer. Instead, Jonathan’s brother just stood there, a pillar of silent strength and resolve in the face of the criminal’s taunts.

  Doppel-Dex swore at him. Ugly words and threats poured from his lips, and as they stood there silently in the face of his vulgar onslaught she suddenly remembered the story Jonathan had told her about the bullies they’d faced when they were children. For a second, standing there, it was like her heart was split in two thinking about the two very different brothers they’d been. One brave enough to stand strong and resolved in the face of bullying. One equally brave feeling called to fight back.

  Lord, please, save and protect this family! I don’t know what the hurt or pain was that drove Jonathan and his brother apart. But, please, keep them safe. Heal their brokenness and pain. Don’t let them get hurt because of me.

  “How about you, girlie?” Doppel-Dex focused his attention on her. He held his cell phone up. “You seen this woman?”

  Her chest tightened. She locked her eyes on the ground and tried to breathe.

  Please protect me, Lord.

  Doppel-Dex walked up to her. Beside her, she could feel Jonathan’s older brother step protectively toward her.

  “Hey! Girl!” His voice rose. “You speak English? You know I’m talking to you, right? Do you have a tongue in your head?”

  Her body shook. The prejudice in his voice stung like a whip. He was so close now she could smell the stench of his breath. A gun waved in front of her field of vision, then a large hand with fat fingers, and for a moment she thought he was going to grab her throat.

  She looked up, her eyes scanning his face. Suddenly she was staring through the tinted glasse
s at the ugly eyes beneath, face-to-face with the man who would stop at nothing to hurt her. The gun tightened in his grasp.

  Save me, Lord. I’m about to die.

  TEN

  “You see this girl, you call me,” Doppel-Dex snapped. “Okay? Or I will find you and kill you slowly. I’ll kill all of you.”

  Her breath caught. He didn’t recognize her. They were inches away. How was it possible that he didn’t recognize her?

  Too many people just see a beard or a bonnet, and don’t even try to see the person underneath. Jonathan’s words floated in the back of her mind.

  Her gaze dropped back to the ground. Doppel-Dex swore at them and walked off. Thank You, Lord! Suddenly she felt she was able to breathe again.

  “Come on,” Amos said softly. “Let’s go.”

  Amos offered an arm to steady her and help her up, as Miriam grasped her hand and helped her the rest of the way. Amos climbed up into the buggy and they drove in silence through the small town. He dropped the family off at a small farm on the outskirts of town, where a large, bearded Amish man promised Amos he’d keep Miriam, Rosie and the twins safe until he returned. Celeste hugged each of the women in turn, wondering how she could feel so much care and admiration for people she’d only just met.

  “Travel safe,” Miriam said, embracing her with the kind of protective hug that she hadn’t felt since her mother had died. “May God go with you.”

  “And with you,” Celeste said. She looked from mother to daughter. Words that she didn’t know how to say filled her heart. “Thank you!”

  She and Amos returned to the buggy and started driving back toward town. As they drew toward the shop, she saw an Amish man, tall with broad shoulders and a straw hat, standing by the road, holding a large picnic basket. Amos slowed to a stop. The man looked up. Dark eyes met hers and she felt something surge in her heart. It was Jonathan, and for the first time the reality of what he’d said hit her for real. This was his past. These people were his family. He climbed into the buggy.