determined. And he’s had help,” Zach said bluntly. He offered his hand, introducing himself.
The officer shook his hand. “I’m Deputy Conner Gates. Tell me. Why Quail Hollow? We’re a small Amish community.”
Zachary glanced up at the house and he saw Heather standing in the upstairs window. This had been her chance at a fresh start after the mayhem Fox had unleashed on her. Yet Fox had found her again and was toying with her.
Zach wasn’t going to let this jerk get to Heather. He hadn’t been able to save his sister, but he was going to make sure nothing happened to Heather Miller.
“The escapee knows the owner of this property. She testified against him.” Zach paused a half second. “And Heather is Brian Fox’s ex-wife.”
“Oh, man.” Gates planted his hand on his hip.
“What makes you believe he’s actually here?”
“He left some graffiti on the wall of the residence. He’s close.”
“Okay,” the sheriff’s deputy said, “I’ll call it in. We have to immediately make plans. Grid the area. Fan the search out from here.”
Zach held his hand up. “Don’t let me hold you up. My job is to secure Heather Miller. Keep her safe.”
“Heather Miller, you say?” The sheriff’s deputy rubbed his jaw. “I didn’t realize she had moved back. Shame what happened to her mother.”
Zach plowed a hand through his hair. He hated to ask. Apparently he didn’t have to, because the officer continued, “My father was sheriff back when her mother was murdered. Heather and her sisters were just little girls. Her father moved away from Quail Hollow with his three daughters and never looked back.”
“Can’t say I blame him. It’s a small town. Everywhere he turned must have reminded him of his wife.” Unease twisted his insides. He hadn’t realized Heather had so much tragedy in her past.
“They left everything, including their Amish community.”
Zach did a double take. “Heather grew up Amish?”
Deputy Gates nodded. “Sure did. Her mother’s murder turned this entire town upside down.”
* * *
Heather stepped away from the bedroom window, her nerves humming from all the law enforcement activity on her quiet little farm.
Not so quiet anymore.
“I’m sorry you had to get caught in the middle of this,” Heather said as she crossed the room to Ruthie, who was sitting quietly in the chaise lounge Heather had put in the corner of the bedroom where she’d envisioned herself escaping with a good book. Not escaping from her fugitive ex-husband.
“Can you tell me what’s going on now?” Ruthie dragged her fingers down the edges of her apron over and over. “We have lots of work to do before the bed-and-breakfast opens.”
“It looks like everything is safe. For now.” From the upstairs window, it looked as if Zach and the sheriff’s department had come up empty-handed.
“What is going on? Who is this person they’re searching for?” Ruthie’s eyes grew wide as she searched Heather’s face for answers.
Heather lowered herself onto the edge of the chair and met Ruthie’s wary gaze. How did she tell her Amish friend that her ex-husband had escaped prison and had tracked her down in Quail Hollow?
Wasn’t this part of the reason the Amish lived separate from the world? There was too much evil out there. Case in point.
Living the Amish way hadn’t saved her mother.
“You deserve the whole truth.” Heather swallowed hard and ran her hands up and down her thighs. “A long time ago, I was married to a man who turned out to be abusive.”
“This man they’re looking for?” Ruthie stopped fidgeting with her apron and stared at her. The fear and uncertainty in her eyes made Heather feel like she had somehow betrayed her friend.
Heather nodded in response to Ruthie’s question. “I got away from him—” she fast-forwarded ten years, not wanting to weigh Ruthie down with her past “—but he remarried and killed his second wife.”
A quiet gasp escaped Ruthie’s lips as blotches of pink fired in her fair-skinned cheeks.
“The man you met downstairs isn’t a friend of mine. He’s actually a law enforcement officer. Deputy U.S. Marshal Zachary Walker came here to warn me that my ex-husband had escaped prison and was on his way to hurt me.”
“I’m so sorry this has happened to you,” Ruthie said. “How can I help?”
Heather’s breath hitched before she caught herself. This wasn’t the response she had expected. Shock, maybe. Questions, definitely. But sympathy and a show of support? Perhaps Ruthie had more exposure to the harsh realities of the outside world than Heather had realized.
“I’d completely understand if you decided you didn’t want to work here.” Heather felt it necessary to offer her young friend a way out. She couldn’t put her in danger.
“I’ve been looking forward to working here,” Ruthie said softly. “It’s a pleasant change from the greenhouse.”
A knock sounded on the door followed by Zach Walker’s authoritative voice. “Fox is gone. It’s safe. Come on out.”
Heather brushed the back of her hand across Ruthie’s sleeve and smiled. She stood and crossed the room to unlock the door. Hoping she could mask her apprehension, she squared her shoulders before opening it.
“We can talk downstairs,” Zach said, all business.
Heather led the way downstairs followed by Ruthie, Zach trailing behind.
“It’s safe?” Heather repeated his words, although she doubted she’d ever feel safe. She should have never believed she could. As long as there was evil out there—namely Brian Fox—she’d never feel safe again.
Once they reached the new addition, Zach widened his stance and crossed his arms, looking down at her. “It won’t be safe here for you until Fox is back in custody. That’s nonnegotiable. You need someplace secure to go for the duration.”
“For the duration?” Heather’s mind spun. She hated the high-pitched quality of her voice. “I can’t just leave. I’m in the middle of renovations. The workmen should be here any minute.” Even as she said the words, she realized how ridiculous she sounded. Of course she couldn’t stay here. Brian had already found her. Tingles of panic bit at her fingertips and threatened to spread up her arms and consume her with the all-too-familiar fight-or-flight response.
She turned her back to Zach, trying to hide the red flush heating her face. She needed time to think.
The sound of a few Amish workmen speaking in Pennsylvania Dutch floated in from the backyard through the plastic lining covering the opening for the window that was yet to be installed. “I should offer them coffee.”
