Amish Christmas Escape Read online

  “Watch out!” Sam shouted.

  Christy’s eyes shot open and she spun in her seat to look around her. A truck was roaring up behind them.

  Slam!

  “He hit us!” Christy screamed. Her breath caught as a man in a leather jacket with a black beard leaned out the passenger-side window. He seemed to struggle for a moment, then he pulled out a rifle.

  “Sam!” she yelled, already unbuckling herself and Ellie and dragging them down to the floor of the back seat.

  The rear window shattered, accompanied by Ellie’s terrified shrieks. Glass rained down on them. Christy drew her daughter toward her, curving her body around the child.

  There was a second shot.

  The SUV started to spiral out of control.

  Between the blown-out wheel and the incredible speed, the vehicle slid and spun across the road and then collided with a car.

  The air was filled with a sharp whoosh as the airbags in the front seat deployed. Sam groaned and the vehicle creaked as it rocked to a stop.

  Would the man in the leather jacket come and finish them off?

  Dana R. Lynn grew up in Illinois. She met her husband at a wedding and told her parents she’d met the man she was going to marry. Nineteen months later, they were married. Today, they live in rural Pennsylvania with their three children and a variety of animals. In addition to writing, she works as a teacher for the deaf and hard of hearing and is active in her church.

  Books by Dana R. Lynn

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Amish Country Justice

  Plain Target

  Plain Retribution

  Amish Christmas Abduction

  Amish Country Ambush

  Amish Christmas Emergency

  Guarding the Amish Midwife

  Hidden in Amish Country

  Plain Refuge

  Deadly Amish Reunion

  Amish Country Threats

  Covert Amish Investigation

  Amish Christmas Escape

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  Amish Christmas Escape

  Dana R. Lynn

  But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

  —Isaiah 40:31

  To Amy and Dee. Coffee is always better when you drink it with your best friends.

  Acknowledgments

  This past year has been challenging to say the least. I am so grateful to so many for their unwavering love and support.

  To my husband and children: You are my world. I love you all forever.

  To my parents and brothers: I love you so much. Thanks for your unconditional support.

  Rachel and Lee: You ladies are the best! Thanks for the sympathy.

  The Suspense Squad: I love you ladies! It’s great talking murder and mayhem with y’all.

  To my LIS/LI writer friends: I appreciate the advice, support and, of course, the never-ending supply of memes.

  To my editor, Tina, and my agent, Tamela: I appreciate you so much. I’m a better writer because of your unending support.

  And most of all, to my Lord and Savior: I pray that my words always bring You glory.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Christmas Vendetta by Valerie Hansen

  ONE

  “You can take a break.” Christina O’Malley, known as Christy to her family, smiled at the evening nurse. “I’ll sit with her for a few minutes.”

  The woman frowned for a second before nodding and vacating her seat beside her patient. Christy waited until the nurse had left her sister’s bedroom before slipping into the chair beside the bed.

  The door closed. Christy sank back against the cushion and closed her eyes. Something about the woman made her teeth ache. She was forever asking questions. They sounded like casual chatter, but Christy couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper than idle curiosity.

  She opened her eyes and deliberately turned her gaze away from the elaborately decorated windows. Their house looked like it was straight out of a Christmas catalog rather than a normal family home in Columbus, Ohio. Her stepmother, Vanessa McCormick O’Malley, was obsessed with appearances. There were lights in every window, and three lavish Christmas trees. Even the yard hosted numerous decorations. There was no sentiment behind it. They hadn’t celebrated Christmas like a family should since her mother had been in the house.

  Casting the maudlin thoughts aside, she returned her attention to the reason she’d stopped by her sister’s room.

  She had an hour before her father, Patrick O’Malley, returned from his Tuesday night board meeting. Sighing, she pulled the book off the bedside table. She didn’t know if Jo Anne had ever read Pride and Prejudice before, but it was one of Christy’s favorite books. Rather comforting on those evenings when she felt melancholy. Or just tired. Like now. Ellie had not been cooperative when she put her to bed. Lately, the five-year-old balked whenever it was time to go to sleep. No one did stubborn like her daughter.

  Soon, she promised herself. Soon she’d leave this poisonous environment and make a life for the two of them elsewhere. Right now, however, she was shackled to this place by love and fear for the sister who had protected her so many times.

  She couldn’t leave her only sister, who was helpless.

  “Where did I leave off? Oh, yes, the ball at Netherfield Hall.”

  She pulled her reading glasses off the top of her head and perched them on the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t read a word without them.

  “Tina.”

  Christy let out a thin shriek as a rusty voice from the bed whispered the nickname only her sister and mother had ever used. She leaped from her chair, the book dropping to the floor as she hurried to the bedside. Jo Anne’s eyes were open. Blurry and foggy with pain, they zeroed in on Christy’s face as she leaned over the bed, recognition shining in their depths.

  A sob lodged in her throat, nearly blocking her ability to breathe her sister’s name. “Jo Anne.”

  She couldn’t say any more. It had been months since Jo Anne had spoken to her. Indeed, since she had last spoken with anyone. Jo Anne had defeated the cancer that had nearly killed her, only to be struck with an illness that plunged her into a deep vegetative state. Their father had brought her back to his house and set up a schedule of private nurses.

  Everyone had been shocked. Patrick O’Malley rarely bothered himself with his daughters. When Christy had been a young child, he’d been a warm and devoted husband and father. However, all that had changed the night her mother had disappeared. He’d become indifferent, distant. Soon, his daughters had even begun to fear the stranger with their father’s face. He’d never physically harmed either of them, but menace had cloaked him like a cloud.

  “You should have left me.” Jo Anne’s hand fluttered weakly.

  Blinking,
Christy stared at her older sister’s pale face, so much thinner than it was before she’d gotten sick. Leave her? How could she have left her like this? At the mercy of their cold, harsh father and his equally frosty second wife. Vanessa had never cared for either of the sisters, especially Jo Anne, who had enjoyed challenging her.

  Christy’s glance returned to her sister. Questions burned on her tongue, but she swallowed them. Now was not the time to ask Jo Anne about what had happened. There had been whispers of “overdose,” but those whispers had always stopped whenever Christy had walked within earshot. She’d never believed it. However, the one person who had known the truth had been unable to talk.

  Until now.

  Scooting closer to her sister, Christy grabbed hold of Jo Anne’s hand. It was painfully thin, fragile.

  “I’d never leave you. You know that.”

  She was shocked at the strength in Jo Anne’s grasp as she tried to pull herself up. Alarmed, Christy gently pushed on her shoulder to keep her in bed. “Hey! Hey, take it easy. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Jo Anne closed her eyes, but not before Christy saw the tears clouding her vision. One escaped and tracked down her cheek.

  Christy gently wiped it away. “I’m here.” She repeated herself several times, not knowing what else she could say to calm her agitated sister. When Jo Anne had settled a bit, Christy helped her to take a few sips of water and then settled back in her chair. She wasn’t sure exactly what she expected to happen, but her instinct told her not to push or to move too fast. Jo Anne’s mouth worked, and her eyes constantly bounced between the door and Christy.

  Finally, Jo Anne sighed and her lids fluttered closed. Christy clenched her hands in her lap to hold back the thread of fear sliding through her. What if Jo Anne fell back to sleep? Would she have trouble waking again?

  It was ridiculous to be so concerned, but these past months had been long and uncertain.

  “So...tired,” Jo Anne whispered. “You have to get out of here. It’s not safe. I know too much, they’ll kill me. Too weak to leave. You can’t raise Ellie in this evil house.” Her voice petered out again.

  “Jo Anne, I think you might be confused. You’ve practically been in a coma for six months—”

  Her sister’s harsh, throaty growl stopped her as Jo Anne’s eyes opened again, though it was obviously with effort. “I don’t think they meant for me to go into a coma. I was supposed to die from an overdose.” Her lids closed once more.

  Christy remained in her chair, too weak to stand. She’d known that things were very wrong in this house. She’d been terrified of her father for her whole life. After her mother had disappeared when she was six, Christy had learned to hide in the shadows to protect herself. Her father had told her and Jo Anne that their mom had left them, but Christy had never believed it. How could a mother leave her children? Plus, she remembered the police officers coming to interview her father. Would they have done that if her mother had left of her own volition?

  But still, for Jo Anne to be afraid of dying in her own house?

  The door creaked open. Whirling, Christy stared at the doctor entering the room. He smiled at her, but the look in his eyes made her blood run cold. She blinked and the smile was gone. “Good evening, my dear. I need to check on your sister. Give us some privacy, please?”

  Christy stood at the clear dismissal, but hesitated. It didn’t feel right. Something about this whole situation was off. She desperately wanted to know what her sister had been talking about.

  But how? She had no idea who Jo Anne thought was trying to kill her. Was it all a dream brought on by her medications or her coma?

  “Please ask Mrs. O’Malley to stop by.” The doctor turned his back on Christy and walked around the bed to look at the IV.

  Christy cast a single glance at her sister. Jo Anne was out. Unwilling to leave, but not really having a choice, she left and did as the doctor bade her.

  Her stepmother wasn’t pleased at the interruption, but snapped her laptop closed and marched off toward Jo Anne’s room.

  Slowly climbing the stairs once again, Christy passed by her sister’s room and heard quieted voices inside. Knowing she couldn’t return to Jo Anne’s side now, she decided she’d stop by to check on her sister first thing in the morning. And find out what she had meant.

  Five minutes after entering her room, Christy clambered into bed but found herself unable to sleep.

  What “evil” had Jo Anne been talking about? Her insistence that someone wanted her dead scared Christy more than anything else. Could her ruthless father be that cold-blooded? She knew firsthand that he was meaner than a rattlesnake, but to try to kill his own daughter?

  She thought of all the late-night business meetings as she was growing up when she’d been forbidden to come downstairs. Her father was an investment broker. Somehow, she didn’t think all those people were meeting to talk about stock portfolios. She’d never trusted any of her father’s guests, but she also couldn’t imagine anything illegal happening inside his house.

  If that were the case, she’d take Ellie and go. Although she had no idea where.

  An outrageous idea started to form in her brain, but she pushed it aside. Ellie’s father had no idea she even existed. Christy had been just shy of seventeen when she’d gotten pregnant. It had seemed so romantic, eloping with a boy not much older than herself. Looking back, she wasn’t even sure they’d been really married. After all, both of them had lied and said they were eighteen.

  It had been the happiest time of her life. Sam had made her laugh. Every smile had told her she was special and important to him. She would have done anything to be with him.

  Until her father had found her in Shipshewana, Indiana. She and Sam were preparing to return to his home in Sutter Springs, Ohio, so she could meet his family. She’d refused to return home with her father, determined to stay with Sam. She’d given in when her father had threatened to have Sam arrested for rape if she didn’t obey him. Sam had had his whole life ahead of him. She couldn’t be selfish and let her father destroy him.

  She’d done the only thing she could do and left. When she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d wanted to contact Sam, but knew it wasn’t possible. By then, Jo Anne had become sick and needed her. By the time Jo Anne was better, Christy didn’t know how to return to Sam to tell him he had a daughter. Until now, when he was her only option to protect their daughter.

  Enough! She was letting her imagination run wild. Unable to sleep, she threw the covers off and slipped her feet into slippers. Walking past the window, she shivered as the wind howled and rattled the glass. Ice covered the panes. Christmas would be upon them in three weeks. Icy rain and sleet had been falling for the past six hours. The roads were one huge skating rink. Tonight would not be a good night for traveling.

  She padded out into the hall. She’d make herself a cup of chamomile tea and honey to help herself relax, then she’d return to bed. She passed by the closed door to Jo Anne’s room. Her steps slowed and finally halted.

  Maybe she could just peek her head in to check on her sister. Surely there’d be no harm in that? Then she could pop down to the kitchen for her tea as planned.

  Backtracking several steps, she tapped softly on the bedroom door and waited for the night nurse to respond. Nothing happened. Had the nurse not heard her? She had a sudden vision of the woman falling asleep on the job. It was probably nothing, but Christy couldn’t stop unease from creeping through her veins.

  She knocked again. Harder.

  This time when no one answered, she pressed her lips together and turned the knob. The door swung open at her touch. Christy slipped inside the bedroom and pulled the door closed behind her. She stood in the dim light and blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

  The nurse’s chair was empty.

  That was odd. Jo Anne’s nurse always stayed wit
h her at night. She wasn’t in the restroom. Christy had passed it in the hall. The door had been open.

  Reaching out, she felt around with her hand until she touched the switch on the bedroom wall and flipped it. The overhead light blazed to life.

  The nurse was indeed gone. Her coat and bag were missing, as well.

  Christy glanced at the bed and the world tilted beneath her feet.

  Jo Anne’s eyes were wide open but there was no life in them.

  Her sister was dead.

  Grief held her frozen for three precious seconds before she became aware of quiet voices outside in the hall. She recognized one of them as Bryce’s, the security guard. The other sounded strangely familiar, though she couldn’t place it. Something in the tenor of their whispers had chills scurrying along her arms, making the hairs stand up.

  Without stopping to think, Christy dashed inside the closet and closed the door, every instinct screaming at her to hide. She heard the bedroom door open. Blood pounded in her ears. Squeezing her eyes closed, she clasped her hands over her heart, breathing in deeply to stave off the panic attack clawing to break free.

  “We’ll have to close her eyes.” Bryce’s voice. “There’s no bruising, so it doesn’t look like she was smothered. We can say she died from the overdose.”

  “We shouldn’t have to say anything. If you’d done your job right, she would have been dead months ago.” The other man’s voice was low, angry. “Simms said the other sister was in here earlier and might be suspicious. This one had started to talk, but we’re not sure what was said.”

  “No need to worry about her. She’s got a kid to protect. She’ll not get nosy. Not if she knows what’s good for her.”

  “Yeah. If the boss decides to put out a contract on her, I want to be first in line. I have a score to settle...”

  Chilled by the reference to Ellie, Christy stopped listening. Jo Anne had been right—she couldn’t stay here. Not if she wanted to protect her little girl. And what did he mean about a contract and a score to settle? What had she, or Jo Anne, ever done to anyone?