“Of course.” Heather led the woman past Zach toward the kitchen. “It will be good to plan ahead.” Get her mind off Brian.
As they passed near the new addition, Ruthie whispered, “You don’t have to hide the fact that you hired workmen outside the Amish community.”
Heather’s lips formed into a perfect O, but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to alarm her friend and employee. Nor did she want to offend her. Ruthie had recommended her good friend’s work crew.
Guilt threaded through her. Was Heather placing others in jeopardy by not going into hiding? How long would it really take to capture a fugitive?
Heather racked her brain about how to best explain Zach’s presence, when Zach approached and extended his hand, making the decision for her. “I’m Zach Walker, a friend of Heather’s.” Ruthie tipped her head in greeting but didn’t take his hand. Zach smiled and dropped his hand. “I stopped by to see how the new construction was going.” He pointed toward the window. “Good thing. The rain was pouring in the opening for the window.”
“Another early riser?” Ruthie muttered, then turned her attention to the plastic covering the window. “I’m so sorry. Sloppy Sam should have had the window in already.”
“I believe there was a delay by the manufacturer,” Heather said, eager to ease Ruthie’s concerns.
“I’m sorry for your inconvenience.”
Heather waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s fine. I suspect he’ll have it in today. Then we’ll have a beautiful new eating nook.” She wandered over to the far corner of the window and inspected the staples. “I trust they’ll be able to stain the woodwork the same color as the original wood throughout the house.”
“My friend is gut. Just let him know, yah?” Ruthie nodded at Heather. “I’m going to take inventory of the canned goods in the pantry. I’ve been doing a little shopping since you hired me. We need to start planning our menu.”
“Okay.” Heather watched Ruthie walk away. She dragged her hand along the unfinished edge, marveling that yesterday her sole concern was getting the addition completed on time.
“Ruthie is going to help me with the day-to-day operations of the bed-and-breakfast.”
Zach nodded his understanding.
Heather drew in a deep breath. She loved the smell of raw wood. She started to smooth her hand along the drywall when her eye caught something on the wall near the corner. In red permanent marker it read: Brian + Heather 4Ever.
Nausea swirled in her gut. She spun around, fear blurring her vision as she struggled to focus on Zach’s face. “Brian. Brian Fox was here.”
“I’ve already searched the house. He’s not inside. Not anymore.” Zach touched Heather’s arm in what she assumed was intended as a comforting gesture, but how could she possibly be comforted?
Her ex-husband had been in her house. He’s here in Quail Hollow.
Stars danced in her line of vision. Less than twelve hours ago this room had held so much promise for the future. For all the potential customers to her quaint bed-and-breakfast. Now its walls and the graffiti pulsed. A hot flush of dread crashed over her. She was suffocating. Trapped. She tugged on her collar and focused on her breathing.
“Are you sure he isn’t still in here?” Her lower lip quivered. “Hiding.” She found herself whispering to protect Ruthie from her past. Her chest grew tight at a memory of a confrontation with Brian. She had been out with friends. Having fun. Something she hadn’t done much since they got married. Brian hadn’t let her. But she had been uncharacteristically defiant. Determined to reclaim some of her life.
A mistake.
Brian had been waiting. In the dark. Insanely jealous that she had been out with her friends. He had accused her of picking up guys. Something she would never do. She had grown to fear Brian, but she had never been unfaithful in her marriage.
That was the first time he had hit her. His fist had struck her, hard and fast, a shocking surprise in the darkness. She had been an easy target backlit by the hall light.
“Yes. I checked the house thoroughly.” Zach interrupted her racing thoughts. “But we can’t stay here. He’s close.”
“Who’s close?” Ruthie asked, concern etched onto her pretty features, free of makeup, as she returned from the pantry on the other side of the kitchen. “Did someone break in?” She tugged nervously on the loose strings of her white bonnet.
Heather smiled tightly. “I’ll explain in a minute.”
Zach pulled back a corner of the vinyl sheeting covering the window. “What’s in the building in back?”
“You saw the shed. It just has supplies for the remodel.” She pointed to the stapler and vinyl. “The barn’s empty. Needs some repairs.” A thumping started in her head. “He’s hiding in there, isn’t he? He’s in there.” The hysteria welled in her chest, squeezing her lungs, making it difficult to breathe.
“Look at me,” Zach said, a determined forcefulness in his tone. “Look at me.”
She met his eyes and saw warmth, compassion and something she always saw in her own eyes when she looked in the mirror—anger. Anger aimed at a man who had ruined so many lives.
“I am not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
Something about the sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, made her believe him. But hadn’t she also believed her husband when he told her he’d never hit her again? That he was sorry.
She had been fooled by a charming liar.
But Zach wasn’t Brian. Zach had come here to protect her. She had to trust him.
But trust didn’t come easily.
He pulled back his jacket and she noticed his gun, immediately relieved that they weren’t sitting ducks. He plucked his cell phone from his belt. “I’m going to call the local sheriff. Let them know Brian Fox may be close.”
At the mention of his name a shudder raced through her. Apparently sensing her renewed dread, he reassured her that she’d be safe. “I need you and Ruthie to go to a room that locks. Your bedroom? A bathroom? And stay away from the windows.”
Instinctively Heather reached out and grabbed his wrist. “No, wait for the sheriff before you go into the barn looking for him. Brian’s evil.”
Zach shook his head. “I need to go out there and check the buildings. I can’t risk him getting away.” He leveled his gaze at her. “You have a cell phone?”
She nodded, her palms growing slick as she grabbed her cell phone out of the rolltop desk in the sitting room. “The service is terrible out here.”
His brows furrowed. “I haven’t had trouble. Different carriers, I suppose.” He ran a hand across his stubbled jaw. He flicked his gaze toward the back door. “Listen, time isn’t on our side. Can you go upstairs and lock yourself in a room? I’ll call the sheriff.”
Heather swallowed hard and grabbed Ruthie’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs. I have a dead bolt on my bedroom door.” She had installed one there for security for when she opened her house to strangers. She had never dreamed she’d have to use it to keep her ex-husband out.
“What’s going on?” Ruthie asked as she begrudgingly followed her up the stairs, her boots pounding up each step.
When they reached her bedroom, Heather ushered Ruthie inside and spun around, slammed the door and turned the bolt. Why did she think a flimsy lock on