Amish Country Undercover Read online

  From where he stood he had a clear, unobstructed view of where Grace sat in the stands. She had been so excited to wear her own boots today. Her feet were healing well. He smiled and glanced her way now—and nearly caught his breath, seeing her enthralled expression as she scrutinized the latest horse flying down the track.

  Regardless of the fact that she was a sitting target, she was the best person for this job, he thought. She knew what she was looking for in a good horse, but she also appreciated the power and beauty of the star equines.

  As the speeding horse ran by her, Jack watched Grace reach for the strings of her kapp and pull them down. Again, he wondered what made her do it. He’d seen her grab hold of them before, and had thought it was something she did when she was afraid. But what could be frightening her now? Did she see a threatening person? Jack turned to follow the direction of her gaze, expecting to find danger, but saw only the horse.

  Perhaps it wasn’t fear at all that instigated her string-pulling habit.

  She bit her lip as the horse came around the curve and crossed the finish line directly in front of her. She looked up at the clock and smiled brightly. Jack followed her gaze to the timing results and thought it strange that she smiled. The horse wasn’t nearly as fast as the two previous ones.

  She let go of her kapp straps and raised a hand.

  One of the ranch staff walked over to the bleachers and called up to her. At her nod, he ripped off a slip of paper from his clipboard and climbed the steps. Grace counted out cash and handed it over in exchange for the paper. Once the man was back on the track, she searched the crowd, and Jack lifted a hand so she could spot him. With a straight face, she held up the slip and nodded once. The deed was done.

  She had just purchased a horse.

  Jack waited for Grace to make her way to him. So far, things were moving smoothly. They would soon know if the thief planned to use her again to swap a thoroughbred out of the stable in place of the horse she’d just bought. If the thief didn’t know she had figured out what was going on, whoever it was just might attempt another exchange.

  The starting pistol signaled another horse trial, jolting Jack as he waited for Grace to reach him. She was at the top of the track near the gate now. The next horse was already there, awaiting its turn. Grace stopped to pet the animal’s nose, then Jack saw a man dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans step down from the cart. He approached the other side of the horse and met Grace with a word and a smile. From this distance, Jack couldn’t tell what they talked about, but after a few minutes, she nodded and climbed into the cart.

  Suddenly, Jack had a feeling something wasn’t normal. Why was Grace taking the reins?

  Unsure what was happening, he walked briskly around the curved fence, doing his best not to bring attention to himself as she moved the horse inside the gate. Seeing an Amish man running would raise some heads, and so would calling out to her. Jack pressed his lips tight—until the gun went off and Grace shot forward on the track.

  Now he picked up his pace and raced toward the opening, yelling, “Grace! No!” His eyes stayed on the back of her kapp as she brought the horse around the first bend. In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of the man who had relinquished the cart and horse to her.

  “What were you thinking?” Jack shouted, running up to him.

  “About what?” the man asked, lifting his attention from a clipboard in his hand.

  “Why did you let her take the horse?” Jack couldn’t control his breathing as fear set in. “She could get hurt.” He ripped his straw hat off his head and almost reached for his hair, suddenly remembering his disguise but not really caring at the moment. All he cared about was Grace’s safety. He tore his gaze from her to search the crowd. Would someone take their shot now?

  Suddenly the man beside him started to chuckle, then laugh. “Buddy,” he said with a shake of his head, “I think you’ve got it bad for that young woman.”

  “What?” Jack shot him a heated glare. How dare he say such a thing? But Jack could only think of Grace, currently driving like the wind on the racetrack. “Get her back here now,” he ordered.

  The jeans-clad man checked the stopwatch he held in his other hand. “I’d say give her about thirty more seconds, and she’ll drive the horse back in. That’s usually her time. Although this is Game Changer she’s racing, so it might be sooner.”

  “Usually?” The word tumbled from Jack’s lips.

  The man let out another laugh and pointed at the track. “Grace has been coming here with her father her whole life. Every now and then, she gives a horse a run. It’s our little secret.” He lifted a finger to his lips.

  “The Amish race their buggies. It’s not taboo.”

  “Even the women?” the man asked with raised eyebrows.

  Jack paused. The answer was most likely no, and as he saw Grace take the next bend, back toward them, he watched her face as she neared at breakneck speed. As she closed in on the finish line, she flicked the reins harder and faster, wearing a huge smile the likes of which he’d never seen on her. She looked free to be herself and was clearly enjoying every second.

  “Has she ever slowed down just to make the ride a little longer?” Jack asked.

  “Doubtful. That’s not Grace’s style. She puts her best foot forward and cuts no corners.” The man stretched out a hand. “I’m Steven Byler.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Jack grasped it firmly. “Steven. You work in the stables, right?”

  He nodded. “For my whole adult life, yup.”

  The two men watched Grace drive the cart over the finish line and then pull on the reins for the slow-down. As she passed Jack, she lifted her hand to wave.

  But in the next second, a loud snap echoed through the arena, and her face lost its smile. The reins were ripped from her hands as the horse veered away.

  Grace let out a shriek as she and the cart continued on at a high speed, before turning and flipping over.

  Jack watched in disbelief as the cart bounced and flipped again, sending Grace into the air. Her cries of fear spurred his legs to move. She landed hard against the ground, and though his arms reached out as he ran, he couldn’t get there in time to break her fall.

  His boots pounded on the packed dirt as he rushed toward where she lay in the grass of the center ring.

  “Grace!” he yelled but received no response.

  “An ambulance is on the way!” Steven called from behind, a cell phone in his hand.

  Jack didn’t dare move her but dropped to the ground at her side. “Please, Grace, answer me if you hear me.” He touched his fingertips to her cheek and then the side of her neck.

  A fast pulse bounced under his touch.

  Even so, Jack rushed out a prayer. “Gött, I don’t expect much for myself, but Grace loves You and lives for You. Could You please let her live through this? Please protect her. I don’t know what I’ll do if...” Jack choked on the words, not able to utter them. He swallowed hard, reasoning that his concern was only because she was in his charge. He pushed aside the fear of finding out if he was wrong and it was something else entirely. Something that was impossible.

  Jack avoided the whole idea of Grace being more than a job and turned an ear to hear Steven talking to the dispatcher. The stable hand was relaying details of the accident over the phone. Jack understood only bits and pieces, until he heard him say, “The cart came unhitched from the horse. I don’t understand. I attached it myself. This has never happened before.”

  Jack couldn’t take his gaze off Grace’s unconscious form, but his mind spun Steven’s words around and around until they finally made sense.

  This has never happened before.

  As sirens wailed in the distance, Jack knew the thing he feared most today had come to fruition. His plan to catch a thief had been turned on him, as quickly as Grace had taken the curves around the t
rack. The smooth transaction he had hoped for had turned deadly, and Jack knew beyond a doubt that someone had their own plans for Grace.

  Plans to kill her.

  * * *

  A beeping sound stirred Grace awake, but when she tried to turn her head toward the noise, something stopped any movement. Panic set in and she opened her eyes, to find herself staring straight up at a white ceiling. Dim lighting cast shadows on as much of the cream-colored walls as she could see without moving her head. The incessant beeping picked up its pace as she struggled to figure out where she was. All she knew was that this was not her home.

  “Hello, Miss Miller,” a male voice said. Then a face peered over her—no one she knew, but he appeared to be a medical professional.

  “Am I in the hospital?” she asked, though barely any sound came out.

  “Yes, you are. I’m Dr. Reese, and we’ve been waiting for you to come to before taking you out of traction.”

  “Tr-traction?” She had no idea what he meant, having never been in the hospital.

  “It’s like a brace, so you don’t hurt herself by moving too much.”

  “But why?” Nothing made sense.

  “Do you remember being in an accident?”

  Grace tried to shake her head, then remembered she couldn’t. “Did a car hit my buggy?”

  Dr. Reese smiled. “Nope. You were racing a horse at the track. Do you remember that? The cart came detached and flipped, and you were knocked unconscious. Anything coming back to you?”

  “No,” she said, but did her best to remember. Suddenly, an image of the beautiful horse Game Changer entered her mind. “Wait. Steven Byler asked me if I wanted to test Game Changer.” Fear rushed to the forefront of her mind. “Is the horse all right? Please tell me she is okay.”

  “Game Changer? Is that the horse’s name?”

  “Yes. Is she safe?”

  “As far as I know, she is fine. She ran off and left you and the cart behind. But I’m glad to hear you remember some things from the event. It tells me your memory is intact. I think you’ll be on the mend real soon. Your X-rays came back clean, but you’ll be sore for a while. Your neck especially needs to remain stable. You’ll go home wearing a brace, until the muscles and ligaments heal. But you have some wonderful people in your community ready to help. In fact, I have someone out in the waiting room itching to see you. Are you all right with that?”

  Grace figured the person waiting had to be Jack. “Ya, please send him in.” She was eager to see him and wished she could sit up. There was so much to ask him. Had he picked up the horse she’d bought? Had it been swapped for a thoroughbred? There were so many questions, but also another feeling she couldn’t describe. An eagerness to see Jack that went beyond a working relationship. But that couldn’t be, she told herself. She was just scared and in need of some comfort right now. Still, she couldn’t imagine it coming from anyone else.

  As the doctor exited and she waited for Jack, the beeping on the machine slowed back to its former pace. Knowing he had come to the hospital for her offered her the comfort she needed in this unfamiliar place. She hoped he could bring her home tonight. She was thankful Nic was with her daed, but she still needed to be home with him. Grace closed her eyes and sighed at the thought, and when she heard footsteps enter the door, she felt her stomach do a little flip, knowing he was near.

  A swishing sound met her ears, followed by the feel of a strong hand taking hers and squeezing. She had hoped for warmth but found it cold to the touch.

  “I’m surprised to see you awake,” a hushed male voice said.

  But not Jack’s voice.

  Grace tensed up in her prostrate position. As she pressed her face to the right to try and see who stood beside her, the beeping on the machine picked back up. She realized it represented the beating of her heart, which was now pounding in her chest.

  “Who are you?” she asked, trying to pull her hand away. “Let me see your face.”

  The man’s grip held fast and hard. “You really shouldn’t be racing horses, Grace. That is not becoming behavior for a good Amish woman. What would the elders say? What will they do with you when you have already given them so much to be concerned about?”

  Grace whimpered as she tried to see out the corner of her eye, but the man stood at the top of the bed, just out of view. Trying to pull her hand away did nothing but bring on a tighter, more painful grasp.

  “You’re hurting me,” she said. “Let me go! Help! Someone, help!”

  A sick laugh erupted beside her. It stopped just as quickly as it started, then he said, “You don’t belong with the Amish. In fact, you shouldn’t have ever been born. I think it’s time for you to go away.”

  “Help!” She yelled as loudly as she could, forcing a scream past the raspy sounds that escaped her lips. She opened them again, but before she could call out once more, a pillow came down over her face.

  Grace realized in disbelief what was happening but couldn’t move a muscle to avoid the pillow that was pressing down. She screamed into the plush cotton and fought against the traction, trying to turn her head even a fraction of an inch. Anything to avoid having her life snuffed out of her.

  It was no use. And with each passing second, the air in her lungs dispersed, leaving a deep ache behind. Bright flashes of light beneath her eyelids blinded her as unconsciousness closed in. Her free hand reached for the pillow to try to pull it away. She gripped the cotton then fumbled for her assailant’s hand on the pillow.

  She felt her hand go still, with no more energy left in her. Darkness won out over the bright, explosive lights. Her other hand went limp in her attacker’s tight hold.

  Who are you?

  That final thought filled her mind as she gave in to escape the pain and stopped struggling.

  She floated in that dark, unconscious world between life and death. Silence filled her ears for what seemed an eternity, and then, as if through a tunnel, she detected the familiar beeping sound filtering in, slowly at first, then picking up speed.

  She thought she heard a swishing sound, but suddenly the pain racketing through her chest stole her attention. Her body involuntarily worked to fill her lungs with air.

  Which meant the pillow was gone.

  Gasping, Grace forced her eyes wide, to find the white ceiling again. But this time Jack’s worried face leaned over her. His hands grabbed at her cheeks and his lips moved. He was speaking to her. Slowly, his voice registered, and she realized he was yelling for help.

  Then the swishing sound came again, and Jack was gone from her view. Dr. Reese replaced him, his hands touching her and lifting her eyelids.

  “Grace, can you hear me?” he asked.

  She couldn’t nod or speak. She mouthed “yes” and hoped that came out right. Saying someone had tried to kill her seemed impossible, but they needed to know. She mouthed, “Kill. Pillow.”

  Dr. Reese’s eye widened. He looked behind him and said, “I think she’s trying to say ‘kill.’” He glanced her way again. “Is that right?”

  “Pillow,” she whispered.

  Jack spoke from somewhere in the room. “I resuscitated her when I came in and saw her flatlined. But I didn’t know someone had suffocated her with a pillow. He must have just left before I came in.” Jack sounded angry. “Don’t leave her side until I get back. He can’t be far.”

  The swishing sound occurred again, and Grace realized now it was the door to her room opening and closing.

  Dr. Reese continued his examination, but Grace barely focused on him. She wished she could see the door. But if her attacker came back, she wouldn’t know him. She hadn’t seen his face. It could be anyone. He could walk right back in and try again.

  “Your friend’s quick work of resuscitating you saved your life,” the doctor said, grabbing her attention at last with those words.

  Jack had sav
ed her?

  But from whom? Grace licked her dry lips. She clasped her hands together in front of her, rubbing the blood back into her fingers and flexing them to ease the pain from where her attacker had squeezed so tightly.

  She tried to remember the sound of the man’s voice. Was it someone she knew?

  The swishing sound came again.

  “Keep the door open,” Dr. Reese said. “Who closed that, anyway?”

  A nurse appeared to assist the doctor. She checked Grace’s vitals as Grace tried to remember how many times she had heard that sound. The first time was when her attacker entered the room. He must have shut the door. Then she’d heard him leave, and the other two times were Jack coming in and going out.

  Would he find the man? Grace wanted this whole thing to be over and done with. She wanted to go home to her father and her horses and Jack.

  The last thought stumped her. Jack was not part of her life. It was wrong of her to think such things. Jack wasn’t a possibility in her life. But just then, he walked back in and went to the bottom of her bed so she could see him. His breathing was labored, as though he’d been running. “Nothing,” he said. “Who was it?” His gaze pierced her with anger.

  But not anger aimed at her.

  Grace knew he was mad at himself for not keeping her safe.

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t let me see his face. He sounded so mean. Almost like he was glad I was hurt. And he said I should leave the Amish.”

  When Jack didn’t respond, Grace searched his face for the truth. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m thinking that botched horse trial was no accident. It was set up for you to take the reins. And when they failed in killing you there, they tried to finish the job here. Now do you see how dangerous this is?”