Kit Wilkinson - Lancaster County Reckoning

PLAIN PROTECTOR

The father Darcy Simmons thought was dead is actually alive, but in a coma, and the men who attacked him are after her to produce what he was hiding. But she hasn’t spoken to her father in twenty years, since he entered witness protection and became Amish, and has no clue what the criminals want. Now the only person she can depend on is Amish farmer Thomas Nolt, her father’s neighbor and closest friend. Thomas knows nothing of his friend’s past, but he’s determined to save the fragile beauty the man shielded all these years with his silence. But with men willing to kill for stolen items her father was hiding, can Thomas and Darcy find them before their time runs out?

“For starters,” Thomas said. “Why don’t you tell me who you are?”

The woman wiped her tears, looked him dead in the eye and sighed. “I’m— Well, I’m Darcy Simmons and I’m—I’m Jesse’s daughter.”

Daughter? What? Jesse didn’t have any kin that Thomas had ever heard of. Jesse had always been all alone…

The woman—Darcy—had hardly gotten the words out when her fancy smartphone rang.

She looked at the phone and frowned. “I don’t know that number.”

Still, she touched the screen to accept the call and lifted the phone to her ear. She was so close that Thomas could hear every crazy word of the call. The oddly distorted voice filled the room.

“Oh, Darcy, honey, you’re just as lovely as your mother, but you do have your daddy’s eyes… And you also have something of mine. I’ll be coming around soon to get it back. You can either cooperate when I see you, or you can end up like your dear old dad. Either way, I get what’s mine. See you soon.”

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading a copy of Lancaster County Reckoning. I hope you enjoyed the story of Darcy and Thomas. I was so happy to finally write this story, because I have wanted to do so ever since I started the Willow Trace series. I fell in love the character Thomas Nolt when I was writing Plain Secrets and felt like he had to have his own happy ending after having been so good to Hannah in book one.

I dedicated this book to my father, who passed away suddenly while I was working on this book. He was a genius of a man who loved a good story and was a voracious reader. I will definitely miss all of his great advice and chatting to him about my writing.

This book is also dedicated to my oldest sister, who was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s a few years ago. She has spent most of her life taking care of other people, but now depends on others to take care of her. I wish a million blessings to those of you who take care of her—Greg, Charneise, Tamera, Cindy, Mom and my nieces and nephew.

If you or someone you love is suffering from Alzheimer’s, my prayers to you.

With all my love,

Kit

KIT WILKINSON lives in the heart of Central Virginia, where she works full-time as a French and English teacher and overtime as a mother of two. A graduate of the University of Virginia and the University of Tennessee, Kit loves to study, learn and read. She finds through writing she is able to do both with a purpose, while creating something new in the process. You can visit her website at www.kitwilkinson.com.

Lancaster County Reckoning

Kit Wilkinson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Behold, I stand at the door and knock.

If anyone hears my voice and opens the door,

I will come in to him and dine with him and he with me.

—Revelations 3:20

To Dad, thanks for sharing your love, most especially your love for story and books. I miss you.

And to my sister, Elizabeth, my biggest fan and most dear to my heart, the Lord shines through you still.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Thomas Nolt spotted the bright red car the second he entered the clearing. It made for such an odd sight on his neighbor’s land, in the middle of their Amish community, that he pulled up on the reins of his gelding. The sudden stop of the horse threw the weight of the satchel his grandmother Ruth had loaded up with baked goods and preserves for his “Uncle Jesse” against his back.

Not really an uncle but his close neighbor of twenty years and considered part of the Nolt family, Jesse Troyer had asked Thomas to come take a look at his well at lunch. So it seemed a bit odd that someone else was visiting at the same time. Not that it was unusual for Jesse to have any visitors, but most of his acquaintances drove the typical Amish horse and buggy—not cars. And certainly not a fancy, brightly colored automobile like this one.

To be sure, Jesse had not always been Amish. Thomas had been just a child when Jesse had joined their community twenty years earlier, but he remembered how hard the man had worked to embrace the plain life and leave his Englisch ways behind. Ever since, Jesse pretty much stuck to his friends in the Ordnung. He had never mentioned keeping in touch with anyone in the Englisch world.

Thomas wanted to tell himself that it was nothing to worry about. In all likelihood, the red car’s driver was a tourist who had gotten lost and had stopped at Jesse’s home for directions. Christmas was approaching and tourists seemed oddly fascinated by the simple, minimal decorations with which the Amish commemorated the holy season. Yes, there was surely nothing ominous about the appearance of the red car at all. And yet Thomas could not deny that he felt strangely unsettled.

His eyes moved over Jesse’s house, and he finally realized what seemed off. It was a cold December day with a biting wind...and yet no smoke rose from Jesse’s chimney. The old man was home. Jesse’s little bay-colored Morgan horse was enclosed in her paddock and his buggy was parked, as always, next to the house. So why hadn’t he lit a fire? An emotion washed over Thomas. It was a feeling deep in his gut—a feeling that something was wrong.

He nudged King into a gallop over the open field, only slowing when they’d reached the back of the house. Thomas dismounted with one smooth swing of his leg and rushed around to the front porch, where he came to a full, screeching halt.

“Who are ye?” The words flew out of his mouth before his brain could rephrase them into something more courteous. He took a slow step back as if he’d encountered a rattlesnake. It might as well have been seeing as what stood in front of him rattled his brain. It was a young woman. A young Englisch woman with modern clothes and styled hair and a face painted to a glossy fashion magazine’s idea of perfection. She was petite but looked agile and adept.