Plain Sanctuary

Zach pulled back a corner of the vinyl sheeting covering the window. “What’s in the building in back?”

“You saw the shed. It just has supplies for the remodel.” She pointed to the stapler and vinyl. “The barn’s empty. Needs some repairs.” A thumping started in her head. “He’s hiding in there, isn’t he? He’s in there.” The hysteria welled in her chest, squeezing her lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

“Look at me,” Zach said, a determined forcefulness in his tone. “Look at me.”

She met his eyes and saw warmth, compassion and something she always saw in her own eyes when she looked in the mirror—anger. Anger aimed at a man who had ruined so many lives.

“I am not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Something about the sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, made her believe him. But hadn’t she also believed her husband when he told her he’d never hit her again? That he was sorry.

She had been fooled by a charming liar.

But Zach wasn’t Brian. Zach had come here to protect her. She had to trust him.

But trust didn’t come easily.

He pulled back his jacket and she noticed his gun, immediately relieved that they weren’t sitting ducks. He plucked his cell phone from his belt. “I’m going to call the local sheriff. Let them know Brian Fox may be close.”

At the mention of his name a shudder raced through her. Apparently sensing her renewed dread, he reassured her that she’d be safe. “I need you and Ruthie to go to a room that locks. Your bedroom? A bathroom? And stay away from the windows.”

Instinctively Heather reached out and grabbed his wrist. “No, wait for the sheriff before you go into the barn looking for him. Brian’s evil.”

Zach shook his head. “I need to go out there and check the buildings. I can’t risk him getting away.” He leveled his gaze at her. “You have a cell phone?”

She nodded, her palms growing slick as she grabbed her cell phone out of the rolltop desk in the sitting room. “The service is terrible out here.”

His brows furrowed. “I haven’t had trouble. Different carriers, I suppose.” He ran a hand across his stubbled jaw. He flicked his gaze toward the back door. “Listen, time isn’t on our side. Can you go upstairs and lock yourself in a room? I’ll call the sheriff.”

Heather swallowed hard and grabbed Ruthie’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs. I have a dead bolt on my bedroom door.” She had installed one there for security for when she opened her house to strangers. She had never dreamed she’d have to use it to keep her ex-husband out.

“What’s going on?” Ruthie asked as she begrudgingly followed her up the stairs, her boots pounding up each step.

When they reached her bedroom, Heather ushered Ruthie inside and spun around, slammed the door and turned the bolt. Why did she think a flimsy lock on a hollow wood door would keep out Brian when a maximum-security prison had failed?

* * *

Zach waited at the bottom of the stairs until he heard the bedroom door close and the bolt slide into place. He made a quick call to the sheriff’s department. Pulling his gun out of its holster, he moved toward the back door and muttered, “I’m coming to get you, Fox. You’re not going to get away from me now.”

He exited through the kitchen door, where he had first run into Heather last night. He prayed the sheriff and his deputies didn’t take their time in getting here. Zach feared if he picked the wrong outbuilding, Fox might be able to make his escape while he was otherwise occupied. Or worse—make his way into the house through the construction zone. To Heather.

After Zach cleared the shed, he heard sirens growing closer. One patrol car pulled up the driveway. Two others sped past before coming to a stop somewhere out of view on the other side of the house. A call like his had probably gotten the attention of the entire Quail Hollow Sheriff’s Department.

A tall man unfolded from his patrol car, his hand hovering over the grip of his gun. Zach waved to him silently and pointed to the barn. The man in turn gestured to his officers. The four men surrounded the barn under Zach’s silent directions. Two stayed outside watching for any sign of the fugitive while the tall officer and Zach checked the interior. Thanks to several missing planks and a large hole in the roof, most of the interior was well illuminated except for a few dark corners.

Zach cautiously checked the shadows behind a tractor with no rubber on its wheels, an old shell of an Amish buggy and a few hay bales that smelled ripe from dampness and age.

“Clear,” he hollered after checking the last stall, where horses must have been kept at some point in the past.

The two law enforcement officers exited the barn together.

“You really think the fugitive made it all the way to Quail Hollow?” The officer looked at his watch as if that might give him the answers. “Isn’t Peters Correctional Facility about a hundred miles from here? Guy had to have resources to get to Quail Hollow so quickly.”

“He’s 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.”

“I’ll get the coffee.” Ruthie hurried past her and into the kitchen.

“Can we sit down?” Zach asked. “Talk about this?”

Heather had long passed the point of trying to ignore this entire nightmare. She held out her hand, directing him toward the sitting room. Two rockers sat in front of a wood-burning stove, where the tourists were supposed to relax after a day of sightseeing. Not where she was supposed to discuss her ex-husband, who had escaped from prison.

This is too crazy to comprehend. Like a nightmare come true.

The U.S. Marshal leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You are one of the strongest women I know. It took a lot for you to come forward to testify against Fox in my sister’s trial. I’m grateful.”

Her stomach twisted at the personal nature of his comment. After she escaped, Brian had killed Zach’s sister. Zach didn’t owe her his gratitude. If she had been braver sooner...

“I didn’t have a choice but to testify.” She measured her words, fighting back a groundswell of emotion, guilt riding the crest. If she hadn’t escaped from Brian, he might not have killed his sister.

You would have been the one he killed...

Heather dragged a hand across her hair and blinked her gritty eyes. Every fiber of her being ached with exhaustion. Frustration. Regret.

“I’ve put everything into this place. I have nowhere else to go.” Even she could hear the fight draining from her argument.

“The sheriff’s deputy told me you have two sisters.”

“How did he...? Of course...” Heather slowly shook her head. Quail Hollow was a small town. Despite having kept to herself—except for getting to know Ruthie’s family—since she moved into a nearby apartment to start renovations, the residents still knew her story. She didn’t truly believe she could be a Miller in Quail Hollow and not have people know about her past, but she had hoped to live a quiet life. So much for that. “I can’t move in with one of my sisters. I’m not going to put either of them in danger. I can’t.”

“A relative. Someone Fox doesn’t know about.”

“My father moved us away from our family. We’ve lost all ties. Last I heard, my two uncles and their families moved to another Amish community. I suppose I’m the only Miller foolish enough to live in Quail Hollow.”

“Friends?”

“I never stayed anywhere long enough to establish friendships. And the friends I had before...”

Pulse thudding in her ears, she slowly turned to meet Zach’s steady gaze. “I was married to the man. He knows everything about me. I’m not safe anywhere.” Her voice cracked over the last word.

“You may feel that way, but I can take you to a safe house.”

“You’re asking me to run?”

“I know.” The look of compassion in his eyes spoke volumes. He knew what he was asking her to do.

“What will happen to this place when I’m gone? If I run, Brian wins. Again.” She bowed her head and threaded her fingers through her hair and tugged, frustrated. But even as she made the argument, her resolve was fading.

“It’s only temporary.” His smooth, calming voice washed over her. If only she could believe that.

“I hid for ten years from Brian.” She lifted her gaze, wondering if he could read in her eyes the blame she felt for not coming forward. For not stopping Brian before he had a chance to meet, marry and then kill Zach’s sister. As irrational as that thought was, it always came back around to haunt her. In the long chain that had connected Brian Fox to Zach’s sister, Jill, she had been a pivotal link.

“The difference this time is that every law enforcement agency in New York State is searching for this guy. It will be temporary. He’s not living as a free man.”

“You can stay with me.”

Both Zach and Heather spun around to find Ruthie walking into the sitting room holding two mugs of coffee. “You’ll be safe at my home.”

“I couldn’t,” Heather said, accepting the coffee from her Amish friend.

“Wait,” Zach said, “that’s not a bad idea. Fox wouldn’t know to search for you there. You’ve only recently become friends, right? There’s no way Fox would make the connection.”

“Yah, well, my mem and Heather’s mem were friends a long time ago.”

“I can’t imagine Fox would connect the dots,” Zach said.

“I can’t put Ruthie in danger.”

“No one will know you’re there.” Ruthie’s eyes shone brightly, the eagerness of only the young and the innocent. “You can even wear my Amish clothes. We’re about the same size.”

Heather’s eyes widened at the young woman’s suggestion. Heather might have thought Ruthie had watched a lot of TV to come up with such a crazy plan, but that obviously wasn’t the case. She was just a clever young woman.

Zach leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. His golf shirt stretched across his broad chest. “It’s not a bad idea.”

“You live with your parents?” Zach asked.

“My mem. My dat died last year. Now it’s just the three of us. I have four older sisters, all married and living nearby. My little sister is fifteen.”

“I can’t imagine your mother would be happy with having an outsider in her home.” Maryann had been nothing but kind and welcoming to Heather, but she wasn’t so sure about this. This involved some level of deceit: pretending to be Amish. Would Ruthie’s mother go for it?

Ruthie planted her hands on her hips. “She won’t mind. My mem and your mem were best friends. She’d want to help you. I know it.”

Surprise trapped a response in Heather’s throat.

Zach pushed to his feet. “It’s worth asking.”

A throbbing started in Heather’s temples. “What if he follows us there? I can’t... I just can’t.”

FOUR

Zachary paced the small space between the rocking chairs and the wood-burning stove. “We can take extra precautions to make sure Fox doesn’t follow us back to Ruthie’s home.”

Heather stared up at him, worry lining her pretty eyes. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I’m not letting you stay here.” Zach winced at the way he’d framed the words. He suspected Heather wouldn’t take kindly to being forced to do anything. He stopped pacing and sat down on the rocker across from hers. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not going to force you into anything. However, it’s against my better judgment and all my training to leave you here. Fox has been here.” He pointed in the general direction of the graffiti on the wall. “Please let me—” he looked at Ruthie “—let us help you.”

He shifted to catch Ruthie’s attention. “Do you know the workmen here?”

“Yah, Sloppy Sam is a gut friend.”

“Sloppy Sam?” Zachary couldn’t help but smile. Then he turned to Heather. “You hired someone named Sloppy Sam to do home renovations? Seems like a risky move.”

Shrugging, Heather mirrored his smile and flicked a quick glance at Ruthie. “Sloppy Sam came highly recommended.”

“A lot of Amish have nicknames because so many people have the same name. I know—” Ruthie lifted her hands and held up her fingers. “I know at least seven Samuels. And trust me, Sloppy Sam is a very fine craftsman. He got his nickname when he was a little boy. He tended to enjoy his meals so much that his father kept calling him sloppy. It stuck.”

“Well, maybe Sloppy Sam can give you a ride home in his wagon. You can talk to your mother, run the plan by her, then I’ll see to it that Heather makes it there, albeit in a circuitous route. Sound like a plan?”

“Yah.”

“Please don’t tell Sloppy Sam or any of the other Sams you know. The fewer people who know where Heather is, the better.”

“I understand.” Ruthie pointed toward the back window. “I’ll see that the workmen install the window before I leave. Make sure no one else can get in.”

Zach met Heather’s gaze. She knew as well as he did that no one could stop a determined Fox from getting in.

“Thank you,” Heather said. “You’ve been a good friend. But please, if I arrive and your mother doesn’t want me in her home, please tell me. I don’t want to put your family out.”

“It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” Ruthie smiled and went outside to talk to the workmen.

“Why don’t you grab a few things? I’ll drive you to the sheriff’s department, and then we’ll make alternate plans to get you to Ruthie’s house. I don’t want Fox to follow us from here.”

Heather dragged the charm back and forth across the gold chain on her necklace. “How long do you think it will take before they capture Brian?”

Zach rubbed the back of his neck. “I understand Fox has a lot of experience surviving in the woods. He was big into camping, right?”

Heather nodded. An expression suggesting she was remembering an unhappy camping trip flitted across her features.

“He’s more equipped than most to make a go of it out in the woods.”

Heather’s shoulders sagged, as if she had lost some of her initial bravado. “Do you think I’m foolish to stay in Quail Hollow? Maybe I should put more distance between us.”

Zachary leaned forward and reached out to take her hand, but stopped short of touching her. “You can go round and round with this. I think our initial plan is a good one. We can reevaluate if either I or the sheriff’s department feels your safety is compromised.”

Heather raised her eyebrows. “You’re not leaving Quail Hollow? I thought your job was to make sure I’m secure.”

“It is. And the only way you’ll be one hundred percent secure is if Fox is back in custody. Until then, I’m sticking close by.”

Heather closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’ll grab a bag. It won’t take me long. I haven’t even had a chance to unpack since moving in here.”

* * *

The hammering of the workmen clashed with the pounding in Heather’s head as she jogged up the stairs to grab a few things. Between the lack of sleep and her plans for the future crashing down around her, she wondered why she had ever allowed herself to dream. To hope for the future.

Tragedy followed her as if she had a flashing neon arrow over her head.

Rely on your faith. Her father’s words drifted through her mind. Despite losing his wife and the only life he’d ever known, her father had raised his three daughters to be strong in their faith. To not let their circumstances weigh them down. That God would provide.

Yet her father had worked the last twenty years of his life in a dark factory and died of a heart attack on the way home to his two youngest daughters while riding a public bus during a snowstorm. Help hadn’t arrived in time to save him.

God had not provided, but Heather refused to allow that to shatter her faith. She owed that much to her father.

Heather snatched her sweater off the back of the chaise lounge in her bedroom and crammed it into a bag.

Time to go. Hide from Brian. Again.

Her heart ached with the reality that she had come so far only to be pulled back by the man who had always been determined to keep her under his thumb.

“I’ll be back,” she whispered to her cozy bedroom. That was a promise. She turned and hustled down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, Zach extended a hand to take her bag. “Is this it?”

Heather tipped her head. “I don’t suppose I’ll be needing much, considering I’ll be wearing Ruthie’s wardrobe.”

Lifting the strap of her bag over his shoulder, he shot her a look she couldn’t quite read. “I talked to the workmen. They’ll finish up here and Ruthie’s going to lock up on her way out.”

“And there’s no way Brian will follow us to Ruthie’s?” Unease twisted her stomach. “I can’t—”

“You’ll have to trust me on this. Come on.” With a hand to the small of her back, he led her outside. His intense scrutiny of their surroundings both comforted and unnerved her. They walked down the muddy driveway, made uneven by the horses’ hooves and the narrow wheels of the workmen’s wagons.

Alarm coursed through her. “My sisters. They must have heard that Brian escaped. They’ll be worried.” She dragged her hand across her forehead. The intensity of the morning sun made her feel queasy. “You don’t think he’d go after them?”

“He’s here. He’s coming for you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, an awkward, nervous sound. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Half his mouth quirked into a grin. During the trial, she had never seen him so much as crack a smile. “I didn’t mean...”

Heather held up her hand. “I know what you meant. But do you think I could contact my sisters? At least let them know I’m okay and to tell them to be more cautious. To report anything suspicious.”