скачать книгу бесплатно
The Amish Witness
Diane Burke
SHATTERED AMISH SANCTUARYAfter witnessing the murder of her best friend, Elizabeth Lapp flees to the Amish community she left years ago, hoping the killer won’t find her. But the murderer follows Elizabeth, trapping her in her family’s barn, and she’s sure she won’t survive—until an Amish man rushes to save her. As the attacker runs off, Elizabeth sees her rescuer is none other than Thomas King, the handsome farmer she left behind with her dreams and her heart. Now widowed with two small children, Thomas vows to keep her safe…despite not being ready to forgive her. And suddenly, the man whose love she longs for—but can’t allow herself to accept—is all that’s standing between her and a cold-blooded killer.
SHATTERED AMISH SANCTUARY
After witnessing the murder of her best friend, Elizabeth Lapp flees to the Amish community she left years ago, hoping the killer won’t find her. But the murderer follows Elizabeth, trapping her in her family’s barn, and she’s sure she won’t survive—until an Amish man rushes to save her. As the attacker runs off, Elizabeth sees her rescuer is none other than Thomas King, the handsome farmer she left behind with her dreams and her heart. Now widowed with two small children, Thomas vows to keep her safe...despite not being ready to forgive her. And suddenly, the man whose love she longs for—but can’t allow herself to accept—is all that’s standing between her and a cold-blooded killer.
“Thomas!”
The urgency in Elizabeth’s voice made his blood run cold. Had that man returned? He raced toward the back of the barn. When he cleared the open doorway, he skidded to a stop.
Elizabeth stood to his right, leaning heavily against the barn wall.
Thomas shot a hurried glance in every other direction, trying to find the danger or intruder, but saw nothing. His heart squeezed at how fragile and small and scared Elizabeth looked. Her body trembled and the piece of paper she held in her hand rattled.
“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?”
The blood had drained from her face. She was almost as white as the paper. Fear widened her eyes and she didn’t speak. Shakily, she held out the note.
He slid it from her fingers. Anger coursed through his body when he read the words: “I want what is mine. I will contact you again soon with a time and place to meet. Tell no one. I warn you, give it to me or die.”
“I won’t let anyone harm you,” Thomas assured her.
Dear Reader (#u885f5f77-bf10-524b-8be4-42401bc115ef),
The national political scene was the initial inspiration for this story. So many politicians ran on family values and Christian beliefs but didn’t hesitate to sling mud and ridicule their opponents only to rally around and praise the same opponents if they were elected.
Made me think a lot about secrets and lies.
This story came to life when Elizabeth and Thomas emerged from the recesses of my mind. Would the Amish, famous for their family values and deep religious beliefs, keep secrets and lies? If so, what kind of secrets and what would be the motivation behind them?
And, as always, most of my stories deal with questions of trust and forgiveness because I believe each one of us is faced with these issues at some time in our lives.
I hope you enjoy the story of Elizabeth and Thomas as they are forced to face these issues amid a backdrop of danger and intrigue.
I love to hear from my readers and can be reached at diane@dianeburkeauthor.com (mailto:diane@dianeburkeauthor.com) and also can be found on Facebook and Twitter.
Blessings,
Diane Burke
DIANE BURKE is an award-winning author who has had seven books published with Love Inspired Suspense. She won first place in the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery and Suspense and finaled in the ACFW Carol Award for book of the year. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys taking walks with her dog, reading and spending time with friends and family. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached at diane@dianeburkeauthor.com. She can also be found on Twitter and Facebook.
The Amish Witness
Diane Burke
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
We give great honor to those who endure under suffering. For instance, you know about Job, a man of great endurance. You can see how the Lord was kind to him at the end, for the Lord is full of tenderness and mercy.
—James 5:11
To my granddaughter, Emberleigh Valcich.
You are deeply loved.
Contents
Cover (#u51ba05c4-a64f-5d51-a977-c3c9ffa13641)
Back Cover Text (#u7f24588e-836b-5ad5-bf93-ff57e4a271c6)
Introduction (#uf5ed31fd-9521-5032-9dd1-dc4c26bcffd6)
Dear Reader (#uf8f1abdc-39c3-5131-b004-33e11aed73d0)
About the Author (#ue029010d-3b35-5c62-969f-f83e711abe67)
Title Page (#u2b71d352-1bd4-5861-81f2-8c178777f501)
Bible Verse (#ubb626eee-d355-5994-a382-3dc9c8a7e65b)
Dedication (#u17ad8766-a428-5cc5-9827-d8e768c7951c)
ONE (#ue5e24572-3baa-503e-a7fe-54752cba19e3)
TWO (#ubb6bcaa9-26a5-5a84-b911-8681884c6296)
THREE (#ud86755ad-8a5c-5cc2-b9c6-01efc7a4a9a2)
FOUR (#uf5b7dc80-9eab-5c2f-a59d-0999c7d339f8)
FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#u885f5f77-bf10-524b-8be4-42401bc115ef)
Elizabeth Lapp couldn’t distinguish anything out of the ordinary in the shrouded stillness of the empty Amish landscape. She lifted her kerosene lamp closer to the windowpane, pressing her face against the cool glass, and stared harder. Still nothing but dark winter shadows sheltered by even darker ones stretching across the Lancaster farm.
He was out there.
She knew it.
If not today, tomorrow or the next day, but he’d be there. Every instinct told her he would come. She’d seen him standing over Hannah’s dead body—and he’d seen her.
He’d come. If only to silence her...
Dear Lord, please keep me safe. Bless me with inner peace and wisdom as I face the days ahead. And thank You, Lord, for leading me home.
The first glow of morning sun would not touch the horizon for a few more hours. Elizabeth chastised herself. There was work to do, more than enough to occupy her mind, and she needed to get to it. Chores came early on an Amish farm, even in winters in Lancaster County, when the fields lay dormant under drifts of waist-high snow.
A finger of light from the quarter moon was the only thing illuminating the distance between the house and the barn. She studied the shadows. She dared one of them to move and prayed in the same moment that none would.
Where was he? How much longer would she be tortured with the wait?
She raised her face from the glass.
Enough. You’re going to make yourself sick. Where is your faith?
“What do you look for, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth startled at the sound of her mother’s voice. Her left hand flew to her chest. She swallowed a small gasp and spun around.
“You frightened me, Mamm. I didn’t hear you coming.”
“Don’t be foolish. I come down these stairs the same time each morning to fix breakfast and begin the day.” Mary Lapp came close, smoothed a strand of hair beneath her daughter’s white prayer kapp and smiled. “Why do you stare out that window? Tell me, child, what do you hope to find out there in the darkness?”
It was what she didn’t want to find that frightened her so.
She returned her mother’s smile. “I’m not hoping to find anything, Mamm. I guess I’m having trouble adjusting to how dark it is here. There’s always light in the city. No matter what time it is. The city never seems to sleep.”
A shadow flitted across her mother’s face. “Do you miss it already? Are you sorry you came home?”
“I’m just sorry I stayed away so long.” Elizabeth had only arrived home yesterday afternoon, but she knew she had made the right decision to return. She placed her lamp on the table near the front door and a soft light enveloped the room.
Seven years had added a few strands of gray to her mother’s hair. The small lines etched at the edges of her mouth had deepened, and now there were crow’s feet at the edges of her eyes, but her mother would always be young and beautiful in her eyes.
“I don’t miss the city, Mamm, and I’m glad to be home.”
Her mother gave her a warm hug. “I’m glad you’re home, too.”
Sadness wiped the smile from Elizabeth’s face. “I regret I wasn’t here when Daed died. I never got the chance to say goodbye.”
Her father had died two years ago of pneumonia. Her mother’s eyes still carried her grief. Elizabeth hadn’t learned he was sick until it was too late.
“I am sorry, too, little one. Your daed would have been pleased to have you home again. Maybe the Lord has told him you are here now. If he does know, I am certain your daed is thanking Gott every day.” Mary playfully pinched her daughter’s chin. “Kumm. Help me with breakfast.”
Elizabeth followed her mother into the kitchen and lit two more lamps, as well as the gas fixture over the table. She stared at the long wooden table and smoothed her hand against the grain. Her father had made this table as a wedding gift for her mother over thirty years ago and it still looked brand-new. A pang of loss filled her heart. She wished she could have seen him one more time before he died.
“I don’t remember your head always being lost in the clouds. Is that something you learned to do in that fancy city of yours?”
Elizabeth returned her mother’s smile. “Sorry, Mamm. Just thinking about Daed. Wishing I had been here...”
“No good comes from looking behind you. We can’t change the past.” Her mother turned from the stove. “He never stopped loving you. Never.” Her mother smiled. “And he knew you never stopped loving him. He understood your decision to leave even if he didn’t agree with your choice.”
Tears filled Elizabeth’s eyes.
Silence stretched between them.
She remembered the last day she had seen her father. It had been an early winter morning like today and they’d been talking in the barn. She remembered his look of disappointment, the pain and loss already reflected in his eyes, and the warmth and love of his final embrace moments before she left.
“Elizabeth, please, get that head of yours out of the sky. We have chores to do.”
Elizabeth nodded, gathered plates, silverware and mugs and set the table.
The delectable aroma of bacon and freshly brewing coffee teased her nostrils. Her stomach growled. Because her stomach had been too twisted in knots with dread and fear, she hadn’t eaten much at dinner last night. But this morning she was hungry and nothing was going to snatch away her appetite.
“Could you gather some eggs from the henhouse?” her mother called over her shoulder from her spot at the propane-powered stove.
“If I can bring in a jar of your strawberry jam from the pantry to smother on your homemade bread I like so much.”
Her mother smiled and waved her away. “Ja. Ja. Now go.”
Elizabeth decided not to bother with a coat. From the house to the barn was such a short distance and she would only be exposed to the elements for a brief time. She threw a shawl over her shoulders, grabbed the hurricane lamp and hurried out the door. She’d barely cleared the third step down from the porch when a prickling sensation raced up her spine and froze her in place. She threw her gaze in one direction and then another. Looking. Anticipating.
