Valiant Defender Page 18

  “No?” Chase asked, leaning in to kiss her.

  “I take back my protest.” Maisy laughed, setting the casserole down on a long table filled with dishes. Portia had suggested a potluck, and Gretchen had agreed it would be the easiest way to feed a crowd.

  Everyone who’d been invited had volunteered to bring something. Westley and Felicity had come with several dishes of food. Lieutenant Ethan Webb and his fiancée, Kendra, had offered to roast three turkeys. They were both standing beside the food table, Ethan’s German shorthaired pointer, Titus, lying beneath it, the dog’s long legs stretched out, his head resting on his front paws. Nick Donovan was on the other side of the table, his arm around his fiancée, Heidi Jenks, the base reporter. He was talking to Ethan, smiling as Annie, his bloodhound, nosed around near the table.

  Obviously, she’d caught the scent of food.

  Fortunately, the dogs were too well trained to snatch unattended food.

  “It’s pretty awesome, isn’t it?” Justin whispered in her ear, and she didn’t have to ask what. She knew. The team had been through so many trials and struggles. The return of the Red Rose Killer. The murder of Maisy’s father, Chief Master Sergeant Clint Lockwood, and two dog trainers. The missing dogs. The Olio Crime Syndicate. Each person here had persevered and overcome.

  There’d been sorrow, for sure. But there had also been joy.

  She could hear it ringing across the yard—kids and adults laughing, conversation flowing. “It really is,” she agreed.

  “So, are you ready?” Isaac asked, walking toward them, Vanessa at his side.

  She thought he meant for the turkey to be cut and the blessing to be said, but the other couples were gathering around. Kids and dogs and adults, forming a circle that she and Justin seemed to be in the center of.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, but then Portia stepped into the center, carrying a basket.

  “We wanted to thank you for all you’ve done as a member of the team,” Ava said. “You’ve become more than just a temporary transfer. You’re a friend and a comrade.”

  “I feel the same about all of you,” she admitted, surprised when Portia set the basket near her feet. A blanket lay over it, and she thought it might have wiggled. Quinn nosed in, his snout so close to the blanket Justin gave him the down command.

  “What is it?” she asked, looking into Justin’s eyes.

  “Six months is a long time to be away from the people you love,” he said. “We discussed it, and we decided that you needed something to remember us by.”

  “You make it sound like I’ll be gone forever.”

  “Like I said,” he responded, “six months is a long time. Go ahead. Take a look. Everyone on the team had a hand in helping choose your gift.”

  “Justin...” Her voice trailed off as she leaned down and lifted the blanket. A chubby puppy lay inside. Belly up and tail wagging, he looked like a red Lab—a breed Ava had said would be perfect for search and rescue work.

  “His name is Winston,” Portia said.

  “He is the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen.” She lifted Winston from the basket, smiling when he licked her chin.

  “Since it looks like you’re not totally in love with him,” Portia said, sliding her arm around Gretchen’s waist, “you can just say so, and we’ll take him off your hands.”

  Gretchen laughed. “Nice try, kid. I adore him.”

  “I kind of knew you would. I named him Winston, because the first time I saw him, I thought he looked like a portly old man.”

  “A very cute portly old man,” Gretchen agreed, teary eyed from surprise and pleasure.

  She’d been given many gifts in her life, but this one, coming from so many people who cared, meant the most.

  “Thank you all so much,” she said.

  “There’s one more thing, Gretchen,” Justin said. “But this one is just from me. To remember that I’m here for you, and that I always will be.”

  He took a box from his pocket and opened it.

  “Justin,” she breathed, not sure what she intended to say.

  “I love you, Gretchen. You are everything I could ever want in a friend and life partner. I can’t imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”

  The look in his eyes and on his face, the happiness and excitement and love there, filled her heart until there was no room for the past and its disappointments. There was only the future that they would create together.

  “Of course!” she said, and he handed her the ring instead of sliding it on her finger.

  “I hate to tell you this.” Oliver chuckled. “But that’s not the way it’s done.”

  “Read it,” Portia said, pointing to the words engraved inside the band.

  In adversity, love blooms.

  Gretchen’s throat was tight, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Yes,” she managed to say, “it does.”

  Justin took the ring again, sliding it onto her finger this time. He kissed her then, deeply, passionately, their friends offering cheers and congratulations, the dogs barking and Annie baying.

  Winston joined in, yipping happily and doing his best to lick the tears from Gretchen’s face.

  “He’s already trying to make you feel better,” Portia said, smiling at Justin. “You did good, Dad.”

  “I’m glad I have your approval,” Justin said with a grin. “Now, how about we give thanks and eat?”

  Gretchen set Winston back in the basket, linking hands with Justin and with Portia. One by one, they all did the same, standing in a circle beneath the pristine sky and thanking God for all the blessings they’d received. For the trouble and the triumph and the love they’d found along the way.

  For His grace and His goodness in the dark times.

  When they finished, Gretchen continued to hold Justin’s hand, wrapped an arm around Portia and thanked Him again.

  For faith, for family and for all the things that mattered most in life.

  * * * * *

  Read on for an extract from AMISH CHRISTMAS EMERGENCY by Dana R. Lynn.

  Amish Christmas Emergency

  by Dana R. Lynn

  ONE

  “Megan, has Noah Hostetler arrived yet?”

  Concern bit at nurse practitioner Alexa Grant as she hovered by the receptionist’s desk. It wasn’t like Noah to be late. He was always at least half an hour early. She knew for a fact that when the Amish man hired a driver to take him to his medical appointments, he booked them with plenty of wiggle room. A quick glance outside made her grimace. When she’d driven to work that morning, it had been cold, but the sky had been clear. Now, three hours later, a heavy sheet of snow and ice pelted the glass windows of the small medical clinic.

  It figured. Her lips twisted. There hadn’t been any snow to speak of in LaMar Pond, Pennsylvania, back in November at Thanksgiving time. Now, only two weeks out from Christmas, the snow and freezing temperatures pounded the small town relentlessly, adding to the chaos of the season.

  Chaos like the flu epidemic sweeping through northwestern Pennsylvania. It had hit LaMar Pond in the past three weeks. It was a virulent strain. One that was resistant to the vaccine. Several deaths had been reported throughout the affected area. It was hitting the local Amish community especially hard. In addition to her usual weekly home visits, Alexa had been out to see several children and one elderly woman already for the virus. Noah’s family had been hit, as well. Thankfully, his wife and children were on the mend.

  Megan, the pretty young receptionist, shook her head, never looking up from her computer. Alexa didn’t take offense. Megan, like everyone else, was busier than usual. Even with the yearly shots, two nurses were already down with the flu. Nurses they couldn’t afford to do without. This was a clinic funded chiefly by donations. There wasn’t a hefty budget. The owners barely had enough staff to cover th
e clinic as it was.

  The dispatch radio sent out a series of beeps. For a moment, the employees at the clinic paused, mostly out of habit, as many of the staff also worked shifts at the main hospital. That particular beep pattern was for the ambulance service and volunteer fire department in the next town over. Any victims would be transported to the hospital. Static crackled briefly before it was replaced with the dispatcher’s voice. Alexa winced. A four vehicle crash on the interstate. Conditions were bound to get worse. The weather forecast had said the snow was supposed to continue all day and into tomorrow.

  Had Noah been in an accident, too? His usual driver was very cautious, but there were many other drivers out on the roads who were in too much of a hurry.

  The dispatcher’s voice stopped, and the cheery sounds of Christmas music filled the air. The dichotomy of danger and joy was jarring to her. No one else seemed bothered by it, though, so she put the thought aside.

  Alexa glanced at the clock on the wall and felt her tension go up a notch. Noah was now ten minutes late. If he didn’t show up in the next five minutes, the clinic’s policy dictated that he would lose his appointment. That would keep the clinic from getting even further behind schedule. She gnawed on her bottom lip. It could also set Noah’s recovery back a bit. Which would be a shame. Both his children were recovering from vicious cases of the flu, and he had come down with it, as well. Noah had chronically weak lungs, so he’d had a hard battle on his hands. But, hopefully, today’s exam would show that he was truly on the mend.

  If he showed up.

  Needing something to do, she moved to the counter against the wall, took a mug off the shelf and made herself a cup of hot tea. Still, she couldn’t get Noah out of her mind.

  Alexa didn’t get caught up in her patients’ lives. She wouldn’t allow herself that luxury. No, as a nurse practitioner, she learned the value of keeping a professional distance.

  Actually, she tended to keep her emotional distance at all times, professional or not.

  The one time she hadn’t had nearly destroyed her.

  She shook her head, refusing to give in to the memories that haunted her. Memories that had forced her to leave her home in Downers Grove, Illinois.

  A tingle hit her between her shoulder blades. She hunched them slightly, suppressing a shiver. Nervously, she glanced toward the window again. No one was there. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. The feeling had dogged her all week. Like a dark cloud, always hovering over her head, blocking out the sun. At times, she’d have the sensation of being watched. Sometimes at work. Sometimes at home. Once when she was running errands in town. She’d made a valiant effort to remain positive, but it was starting to weigh on her.

  Frustrated, she stirred her tea with more vigor than was called for. She so didn’t need this stress. Hadn’t she made the decision to move to this rural northwestern Pennsylvania town to heal from the tragedy that had devastated her and to rebuild her life? How was she to do that when she was always tense?

  The sound of a rough engine outside the building caught her attention. Some of the tension drained out as she noticed Noah stepping out of the van. Finally. A sigh escaped her. Setting her tea mug down on a side counter, she scooped up Noah’s file.

  His driver started to drive off as Noah reached the clinic door. His hand was on the handle, and he started to pull the door open. A blast of cold air whooshed inside the busy waiting room, then the glass pane shattered with a loud crash. Everyone stilled, shocked. Noah stood with the door half open. A second gunshot blasted into the silence. Alexa screamed, dimly aware that others were screaming too as the young Amish man at the door swayed, a dark stain spreading across his shoulder. Not again. She wouldn’t lose another patient.

  In the midst of the madness, Alexa realized that the other patients were potential targets.

  “Get down!” Running across the lobby, Alexa reached the door and grabbed on to Noah as he started to crumple to the ground. Yanking him inside the building, she yelled for help. One of the other employees appeared at her side. Together, they managed to pull Noah across the lobby and behind the receptionist’s counter.

  “Noah! Noah. Can you hear me?” No response. Leaning closer, she gently shook his shoulder. Her hand came away wet. A quick glance confirmed her fears. Her hand was covered with Noah’s blood.

  “An ambulance and the police are on their way.” Megan fell to her knees beside Alexa, gauze bandages in her hands.

  Alexa nodded her understanding. She grabbed the bandages and started to do what she could to stop the bleeding. Noah was still breathing, although there was a rasp to it she didn’t care for. Whether that was from the virus or from the injury, she couldn’t tell.

  “Where’s the doctor? Grab me a blanket, will you?”

  Megan quickly left, returning in seconds with an armful of blankets.

  “I haven’t seen the doctor for almost an hour. He was in the back, treating patients. I’m amazed he didn’t hear the commotion.”

  Alexa nodded to let Megan know she heard her. They needed to keep Noah warm. She was worried he could go into shock. “Cover him. I can’t relieve the pressure on his wound.”

  On the floor, Noah moaned; his eyes were shut. Alexa encouraged him, keeping her voice calm, not letting on that inside she was a quivering mess.

  “Come on, Noah. Fight this. You have a family to take care of,” Alexa told her patient.

  What was that? She straightened, closing her eyes to hear better. Yes! Sirens.

  “Do you hear that, Noah? Sirens. The ambulance is on its way.”

  The next few minutes were frenzied. The ambulance crew arrived in a flurry of activity. Alexa sat back on her heels, letting the paramedics take over for her. She remained alert, ready to help in an instant if they called on her. She’d do whatever they needed to help Noah.

  Another siren split the air. Red and blue strobe lights flickered on the walls, glinting off the shards of glass still on the floor. She shivered. She hadn’t realized until now how cold the clinic had become with the door’s window broken. But she could see little puffs emerging from people’s mouths as they breathed.

  A LaMar Pond police officer entered the building. He quietly began to talk with the staff and patients. As he worked the room, a second officer arrived. He sauntered in casually, but his bright blue eyes were anything but causal as they canvassed the room. His black hair was dotted with snowflakes, which melted as she watched.

  “Parker, what do ya know?” he asked the other officer, his eyes still moving.

  “Hey, Jackson,” the first officer, Parker, responded. “The witnesses I’ve talked to so far said that the victim was entering the clinic when the window was shot out. There was another shot, and he was hit.”

  The second officer, Jackson, stiffened. “A sniper! We need to have the area searched. Have there been any more shots since the victim went down?”

  She had been listening as Parker brought him up to speed on the situation. At this question, she spoke up. “I didn’t hear any.”

  Both officers looked her way. “Nurse, we need to talk with everyone and get the area checked out. Then we’ll be back to talk with you.”

  She nodded. They started to walk away. “Wait! The man who was shot...do you know how he is?”

  “Unknown at this point,” Parker said kindly.

  Alexa frowned as a thought occurred to her. Someone needed to let Noah’s family know what had happened. His wife should be by his side at a time like this. She bit her lip. She couldn’t call her. The Hostetlers were Amish. The Amish didn’t use modern technology, including telephones, inside their homes. As soon as the officers came back, she’d mention it.

  Her attention was drawn back to the room as the officers began questioning the witnesses. More police arrived. Officer Jackson directed them to start a sweep of the rooftops and surroundin
g area, searching for their sniper. They briskly set about following his orders. Then he headed her way.

  A shiver worked its way down her spine. Small towns were supposed to be safe. LaMar Pond was proving to be the exact opposite. Her glance flickered toward the broken window. Once again, her peace had been shattered, just like the glass. In her mind, the image of the Noah being shot replayed in her mind like a horror movie. She would remember that sight for the rest of her life.

  Who would commit such a crime?

  * * *

  Sergeant Gavin Jackson shook his head as he surveyed the damage. What a mess. A crew had arrived to clean up the broken glass in the entranceway. The crime scene had been hopelessly compromised, but that couldn’t have been helped. Not with a waiting room full of patients. Plus, the injured man had been dragged through the scene, leaving a trail of melted snow, glass and blood.

  It had saved his life, so it was worth it.

  Gavin made his way across the room to the nurse practitioner. Her name was Miss Alexa Grant, the janitor he’d just interviewed had said. She was watching him, her blue-gray eyes wide and uncertain. Her blond hair was pulled back into a clip, revealing high cheekbones and a perfect oval face. She was probably the prettiest woman he’d seen in a long time.

  What was he doing? He was here on police business. There was no reason for him to be noticing if she was pretty or not. Besides, pretty on the outside meant nothing. He knew that too well. And nothing would tempt him to get caught in the emotional trap of romance.

  Not again. The price was too high to pay. His goal here was to find a sniper and protect these civilians. That’s what he’d do.

  “Miss Grant,” he said, halting before her. “I’m Sergeant Jackson with the LaMar Pond PD. I would like to talk with you about what happened here this afternoon. I understand that you helped move the victim.”

  A slight shudder shook her slender frame, but her eyes never wavered. She had courage. He admired courage.