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Amish Refuge
Debby Giusti
HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHTMiriam Miller barely escapes the ruthless attacker that killed her mother and kidnapped her sister. Running deeper into the woods, she's running out of hope....until she falls into the arms of an unlikely bodyguard—a peaceful Amish farmer. Something about Abram Zook inspires her trust, but even in bucolic Willkommen, Georgia, Miriam faces danger. Both from the men pursuing her and from her growing feelings for the caring—though guarded—widower who protects her. Because if she falls for Abram she’ll have to embrace his Amish faith as her own—or lose him. With each minute, her abductor creeps closer, pushing Miriam to an inevitable choice: stay and risk her heart....or leave and risk her life.
HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT
Miriam Miller barely escapes the ruthless attacker that killed her mother and kidnapped her sister. Running deeper into the woods, she’s running out of hope...until she falls into the arms of an unlikely bodyguard—a peaceful Amish farmer. Something about Abram Zook inspires her trust, but even in bucolic Willkommen, Georgia, Miriam faces danger. Both from the men pursuing her and from her growing feelings for the caring—though guarded—widower who protects her. Because if she falls for Abram she’ll have to embrace his Amish faith as her own—or lose him. With each minute, her abductor creeps closer, pushing Miriam to an inevitable choice: stay and risk her heart...or leave and risk her life.
She shivered with fear.
Along the bridge, the guardrails had collapsed and the structure appeared rickety. She peered at the water below as the cold seeped through her cape.
She’d been foolish to leave the security of Abram’s home. But she needed to get to a computer.
Above the roar of the water she heard his voice.
“Miriam?”
Abram had come to stop her, yet he wasn’t thinking of her own good—he was thinking of the other woman who’d worn this cape and kapp. His late wife.
“Go home, Abram.”
Wind tore along the river, throwing her off balance, causing her to teeter toward the water. Her fall was aborted only by his strong hands.
“Let me go.”
“No, Miriam. You must come with me.”
“I won’t. You can’t control me.”
“This time you must listen. He is coming for you.”
Dear Reader (#ue06aa252-b2ab-588f-8393-180bd5cd8139),
I hope you enjoyed Amish Refuge, the first book in my AMISH PROTECTORS series. Amish widower Abram Zook never expected a battered woman to appear on his front porch in the middle of the night. Especially not an Englisch woman. But Miriam Miller’s car has been hijacked, her mother’s been murdered and her younger sister carted off to who knows where. Miriam needs to hole up and stay safe, and what better place than on an Amish farm.
This story is about forgiveness. If you struggle to let go of a painful past, I hope Abram and Miriam’s journey will touch your heart and bring you to a place of new beginnings. I’m praying for you!
I love to hear from readers. Email me at debby@debbygiusti.com (mailto:debby@debbygiusti.com) or write me c/o Love Inspired, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007. Visit me at www.DebbyGiusti.com (http://www.DebbyGiusti.com) and at www.Facebook.com/debby.giusti.9 (http://www.facebook.com/debby.giusti.9).
As always, I thank God for bringing us together through this story.
Wishing you abundant blessings,
Debby
DEBBY GIUSTI is an award-winning Christian author who met and married her military husband at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful children and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of mystery and suspense that touch the heart and soul. Visit Debby online at debbygiusti.com (http://www.debbygiusti.com), blog with her at seekerville.blogspot.com (http://www.seekerville.blogspot.com) and craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com (http://www.craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com), and email her at Debby@DebbyGiusti.com.
Amish Refuge
Debby Giusti
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
O Lord, You have been our refuge through all generations.
—Psalms 90:1
This story is dedicated to my cousins—David, Eric, Sandy and Bill—for the wonderful memories of going home to Ohio.
Contents
Cover (#u30864261-3e01-5d74-9bde-0b9b9a0b1564)
Back Cover Text (#u10940889-9d2b-5e90-aa60-cfbf3a24352a)
Introduction (#ub11c969c-5013-5d25-81fe-ec39eb3e1e0e)
Dear Reader (#uc78e819a-cbd5-525c-8dd2-442521819299)
About the Author (#ue408d7e7-07d5-539b-9925-ec649dffe11f)
Title Page (#u408acb30-6d3a-5071-af14-8931aebd361a)
Bible Verse (#u757a9892-a546-5394-9f5d-219336b8fef5)
Dedication (#u7cdb22e5-1eac-526f-8a4c-bb0d8cd77def)
ONE (#uc69dc717-4347-58a0-9058-a6372350d722)
TWO (#uaa580a84-ab18-5692-9050-0ef6b511255e)
THREE (#u1486c92d-cea3-5027-ad4a-7ae27cc44db1)
FOUR (#u9f1a7331-2a30-5277-b773-f861169f5103)
FIVE (#uadeb56a0-64e0-5bf5-9b9c-37038d50bb57)
SIX (#u188a73a1-f632-55b0-a360-88f008fb0123)
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)
TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY-SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY-SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY-EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#ue06aa252-b2ab-588f-8393-180bd5cd8139)
Serpent would find her and kill her. Tonight.
Miriam Miller woke with a start, chilled to the bone. She rubbed her hands over her arms and blinked against the night air seeping through the broken car window. Tugging her crocheted scarf and threadbare jacket across her chest, she straightened in the driver’s seat and gazed through the windshield.
A police car with lights flashing braked to a stop on the edge of the narrow, two-lane road not more than twenty feet from where she’d parked, hidden by trees and underbrush.
Fear clutched her throat.
The cop—a bull of a man with a heart as dark as the night—stepped to the pavement and played his flashlight over the tall pines. Her pulse pounded and a roar filled her ears. She could envision the serpent tattoo that wrapped around his neck, the snake as heinous as the man.
She had been a fool to think she could elude him by hiding in the woods. Even more of a fool to succumb to the fatigue brought on by the drugs he had used to subdue her.
Fisting her hands, she swallowed the bile that filled her mouth and steeled her spine with resolve. He’d caught her once. He would never capture her again.
She reached for the key in the ignition and held her breath as he pushed aside a tree branch and peered deeper into the woods. With the flick of his wrist, a flash of light caught her in its glare. Just that fast, he was running straight for her.
Before she could start the engine, he opened the driver’s door and yanked her from the car. Screaming, she fell at his feet, crawled away on all fours and struggled to right herself.
He kicked her ribs. Air wheezed from her lungs. He grabbed her hair, turned her to face him and pulled her upright.
She thrashed her arms, kicked her feet then jabbed her fingers deep into his eyes.
He cursed, covered his face with his hands and stumbled backward. “Why you—!”
She lunged for her car.
A bag of craft supplies lay on the floor mat. Frantically she dug for the shears, relieved when her hand gripped the sharp steel.
He struck her shoulder, knocking her off balance. She cried in pain. Another blow, this one to her head.
She tightened her hold on the scissors, raised her hand and stabbed his neck. He groaned, momentarily stunned. She scrambled into her car, slammed and locked the door, and turned the key in the ignition. He grabbed the door handle and banged on the window, his hateful face pushed flat against the cracked glass.
The motor purred to life.
“Thank You,” she silently prayed to a God in whom she’d only started to believe.
Serpent railed in rage.
She jammed the accelerator to the floorboard. Her head flew back as the sudden momentum jerked the car forward, throwing her attacker to the ground.
Her heart pounded nearly out of her chest and her hands shook so hard she could barely steer the car along the narrow path that led back to the pavement. She glanced at her rearview mirror.
Bathed in the red glow of her taillights, Serpent raised his fist, his curse faintly audible even over the hum of her engine.
Her stomach roiled.
She accelerated. The car fishtailed. Blood seeped from the gash to her forehead. She wiped her hand across her brow and blinked back the swell of panic that clamped down on her chest. Her breath caught as she glanced at her speedometer, knowing she was driving much too fast.
Her cell phone, with its dead battery, sat on the console. If she had a car charger, she would call for help. Not the authorities. She couldn’t trust law enforcement, but her older sister, Hannah, would know what to do.
Headlights flashed in her rearview mirror. Her heart stopped. He was following her.
She increased her speed, all too aware of her threadbare tires and the threat of ice on the mountain road. The engine whined as she rounded a turn. Gripping the wheel, white-knuckled, she worked to hold the road.
Pop! The right rear tire deflated.
The blowout caused the car to shimmy across the pavement and career down a steep embankment. In the path of her headlights, she saw the river, edged with ice.
