Amish Christmas Hideaway

More like a lifetime of regret and longing across a broken bridge that couldn’t be mended.

God, if you had to send me a hero, thank you for sending this one. Even if I didn’t want him here. Thank You, Lord.

With that prayer centered in her head, she went into the tiny room with the window alcove she’d always loved, showered, threw on some old pajamas then sprawled across the purple chenille spread her grandmother had turned down.

And promptly fell into a troubled, nightmarish sleep.

Nathan sat in a chair by the window in the room across the house from Alisha, his eyes burning from fatigue while he noticed every little thing in the muted darkness below. The snow silenced most of the noises, but years of stakeouts and doing surveillance that kept him up in the wee hours made him tense and alert. He’d told Alisha the truth. He never slept well.

While he sat in the shadows, he remembered the girl he’d fallen in love with. He’d been willing to give up his way of life for this girl but as it turned out, he’d had to give up the Amish community for another reason. That reason had opened a chasm between Alisha and him, all of their dreams shattered and broken in one long horrible night.

A night so different from this one but full of the same kind of fear and angst.

Summer. With a full moon and the world at his feet.

Sitting there, he drifted into sleep, his memories an aching reminder of the family he’d left behind. Just a few miles from here but so far away.

He thought of Alisha with her long golden-brown hair and bright green eyes, laughing in the wind, her sundress long and flowing. He’d been out in the garden right here helping his father work the soil and plant a butterfly garden for Mrs. Campton. Alisha had been visiting her grandmother and she’d been sitting by the pool, reading a book but also watching them at work.

He’d met her briefly once before when her grandmother had come calling at his family’s house. And he’d never forgotten looking into her pretty eyes.

Now she was staring at him, smiling at him.

After he’d clumsily dropped a whole crate of plants and sent dirt flying everywhere, she’d hopped up to help him salvage what he could before his father saw what had happened. They’d become fast friends and Nathan had gone home with a big crush on a girl he was forbidden to like.

“You’re different, Nathan. You’re like no one I’ve ever met.”

He’d felt the same about her. Always.

We were so young and carefree that summer.

And so naive.

Nathan came awake with a start. Had he heard something outside? Or had he been dreaming?

Standing, he grunted in pain, every muscle in his body protesting. Wiping at his eyes, he noticed the time on his watch. Four in the morning. He’d slept in this cushioned chair for over an hour.

Wide awake now, he studied the front yard and saw that it was now covered in snow. No alarms had sounded and the motion-detection lights hadn’t triggered.

He was imagining things.

But his gut told him to be cautious so he washed his face and decided he’d do a walk through the old house and wait for the sun to come up.

For good measure, he grabbed his weapon. He’d been licensed to carry a concealed weapon for years now but he rarely had to use the thing. Still, he’d learned that being out alone in the wee hours could be dangerous.

He padded in his socks up the wide upstairs hallway, the wooden floors creaking here and there underneath his weight.

He made it to the master bedroom and took his time checking on the backyard. It stretched like a white blanket down to the deep creek that ran through this town. He remembered swimming and fishing in that creek with his younger siblings.

“Tag, you’re it.”

“I’ll find you,” Nathan would call to his two younger brothers. He’d always been the one who looked after the kinder.

Then he thought of Hannah.

“Nathan, do not leave us. We love you. You must not leave. What about me, Nathan? I won’t have my big brother. Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

Tears formed in his eyes. He’d left his little sister crying. “I’ll find you, Nathan. I’m come and bring you home.”

Only she’d become the one who’d never returned.

Too many thoughts crowding his mind. He’d never planned to be back here under these circumstances.

Nathan turned back and went downstairs, amazed at the size of this mansion. He checked two other bedrooms and then moved toward the large den where a massive fireplace took center stage. Beyond the den with all of the family portraits and fancy trinkets and treasures, he saw the sunroom that formed a rectangle at the back of the house.

More windows here, rows and rows of them, with two sets of French doors leading out to the terrace and a huge pool that was covered for winter.

The yard looked the same from the lower floor, white and stark against the security lights. But he knew a criminal could be hiding out there, alarms or no alarms.

He headed to the front of the house and went to the dining room window to peek through the heavy curtains.

Then he saw something that had him on high alert again.

A fresh set of heavy footprints had marred the beauty of the new-fallen snow. Someone has passed through the front yard while he’d been moving through the house.

FIVE (#uda613ac7-f9c6-5b42-8ed0-6a1cc5fc147d)

Nathan hurried upstairs and across the breezeway, checking both sides of the yard as he went. Nothing in the back and nothing, no one, in the front. Maybe someone walking to work had cut through the yard, but this place was so stately and secluded he doubted that. The Amish would respect the property and stay on the roads or sidewalks. Anyone else would drive to work. Why would anyone walk through the snow on private property this early in the morning?

Knocking softly on the door, he waited, hoping Alisha would hear and check through the peephole since her room was the closest. When he heard movement behind the door, he did another sweep of the front yard. Other than those glaring, man-size footprints in the powdery white, the world looked serene and safe. Like a Christmas card.

Alisha opened the door, a cup of coffee steaming in her hand, her expression wary. “What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He swept past her. “What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep much, either. I’ve been up a while.”

Not into small talk, he said, “I saw footprints down in the snow.”

She puttered in thick red socks to the windows of the tiny sitting room across from the big kitchen.

Nathan tugged her back. “Hey, don’t get too close to the windows.”

“I want to see.”

“Trust me—the footprints go right through the yard.”

Giving him a sleepy stare, she said, “What should we do?”