Amish Christmas Hideaway by Lenora Worth

Author:Lenora Worth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2019-09-05T15:33:45+00:00

* * *

Nathan followed the path of the footsteps, thanking the snow for stopping long enough to give him a perfect trail. He was about twenty minutes behind and growing weaker by the minute, but he had to keep going. Three sets of prints until they got to the fork in the path. His pulse pressing against his temple, he blinked away pain and studied the trail. Three sets about five feet into the path to the left and then—

He stopped and knelt down, his mind whirling with the worst-case scenario. The snow was all smudged and gutted here, as if there had been a struggle.

Had Alisha gotten away?

Or had those two dragged her farther into the woods to the left?

He didn’t know which path to take.

Lord, I need you. Guide me.

Nathan stumbled toward the other path, his breath fanning out in a cold fog in front of him. His body protested every step, his ears ringing with pain while his head throbbed. The bullet hole in his shoulder wasn’t too happy, either.

But he kept trudging.

And found one set of footsteps digging through the deepening snow.

“Did you get away, Alisha?”

He looked around and realized he was on the birdhouse path. Squinting, he put one foot in front of the other and trudged ahead, not knowing if the prints belonged to her or not. But who else would be out here?

When he heard a rustling up ahead, Nathan dragged himself off the trail and hid in the snow-covered undergrowth behind a large pine. Something moved to the east. He could hear footfalls.

He watched, holding his breath, the Beretta Alisha had left behind tight against his fingers. He hoped she’d kept going.

The air shook with an echo of footfalls. A massive shadow fell across the white snow, casting long in the waning moonlight.

Nathan braced for what might come.

The big stag strolled along the path, heading in the direction Nathan had just come. Breathing a sigh of relief, Nathan watched as the animal stopped and lifted his head, his nostrils flaring, his eyes watchful.

Then he looked in the direction of where Nathan was hiding. The deer didn’t move and Nathan was afraid to move.

The big animal seemed to be standing guard, watching, waiting, listening. Then he turned around and took off, leaping back to the right.

Nathan decided he’d follow the stag.

Maybe the Lord had sent him another sign.

The stag left him behind, but Nathan saw a clear path now. The same smaller set of prints moved up the path, past the birdhouses he’d built and placed here, one at a time, from the time he’d moved into the cabin until now. He’d made a birdhouse to represent every celebration he’d missed with his family—birthdays and Easter, Christmas, summer, fall, winter and spring. A dozen or so, each unique and meaningful to him. He’d often walked this path, his creations bringing him joy and a sense of home. He enjoyed watching the birds make their nests there in the tiny houses and he’d watched their babies learning to fly away.

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