Lancaster County Reckoning. Kit Wilkinson

      “But you are his daughter?” He stared out at her from under a wisp of dark curls. He tilted his head, focusing hard on her face. “Truly Jesse Troyer’s daughter?”

      Strange emotions flowed through her. “I’m afraid so. And I understand your surprise.”

      He grinned, revealing a beautiful set of white teeth. “Ja, it is a surprise. But truly, if I hadn’t known Jesse for the past twenty years, I would not question ye so many times. You have his eyes, for certain.”

      In spite of herself, Darcy smiled a little, remembering meeting Jesse for the first time and feeling that shock of recognition when faced with those unusual dark gray eyes she’d seen in the mirror every day of her life.

      “But it is just that, well...he never mentioned you,” Thomas said.

      “No one ever mentioned him to me, either.” Darcy rubbed her temples, thinking back to when she’d first met Jesse at the coffeehouse just a few weeks ago. “I grew up with my grandparents—my mother’s parents—in northern Virginia. I was told my parents had both died in a car accident right after I was born. There were newspaper articles and everything, showing the crash. Turns out half of it was a lie. The crash did kill my mother...but my father was alive all along.

      “I mean, I don’t have any legal documents to show you as proof of paternity. Jesse talked about getting them if I wanted him to. But at this point I wasn’t really sure where this whole thing was going. And anyway, he had proof enough for me—pictures of me as a baby. And pictures of my mother. Pictures of the three of us together. And he had this locket. My mother’s locket. She always wore it. It’s around her neck in almost every picture I’ve ever seen of her.”

      Darcy lifted the beautiful silver necklace off her collarbone to show him. Thomas looked at the locket then turned away. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Whether he believed her or not. His stoic face hid his emotions. Calm strength was all he allowed her to see. But she didn’t really care what he thought of the situation. Thomas was just a neighbor. She was Jesse’s daughter, his own flesh and blood.

      After a long moment of silence, Thomas looked back at her with faraway eyes that were hazy with sadness. “Jesse did talk about your mother. He spoke of her often to me.”

      “Yes, my grandparents talked about her all the time. She was amazing,” Darcy said, thinking of all the comparisons they’d made when raising her. Comparisons she’d never lived up to.

      Thomas sighed. “So how did you find out? How did you and Jesse meet?”

      “Jesse wrote to me.” She smiled. “An old-fashioned letter. He told me who he was and he sent some pictures. One of them was a picture I had seen before in my mother’s things.”

      “That must have been strange.”

      “Yes, at first. But then I became curious. I asked my grandparents about it. About him.” A sharp pain stabbed at her heart. “But they wouldn’t tell me anything, except that my mother was dead and that it was his fault. They told me if I wanted to go down that road of getting to know my father, that I would have to do it alone.”

      “I am truly sorry.” Thomas’s eyebrows pressed together, his brown eyes examining her carefully. “Family... Well, we should always be able to count on family.”

      “It’s okay. My grandparents have always been a little...different.” Cold. “But actually what they said only confirmed to me that Jesse was telling the truth. So I met with him. And when I saw him, I knew. Jesse is definitely my father. I just wish...” I’d known about him...

      Tears started to well in her eyes. Thomas reached across the table and patted her hand.

      “Hey, now, I am certain that he had a reason for not getting in touch with you sooner. And if I know Jesse, and I think I do, then he had a very, very gut reason.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze, then slid his hand back to his side of the table. “Jesse—your father—is a gut man. A man of God. And he is strong. I am praying that God will let him stay with us a bit longer. We cannot change the past, but you can still have a future together as father and daughter.”

      The tears started to spill over. Darcy tried to hold them back. She didn’t want to cry in front of this stranger. She covered her face with her hands.

      Thomas stood. “We should go back now. The police will probably be here soon.”

      Darcy felt the blood drain from her face. She did not want to talk to the police. She couldn’t imagine that she knew anything which would be helpful. And what if no one believed that she was Jesse’s daughter? “Oh...but I don’t know what to say to them...like I told you I don’t have any real proof that he’s my father.”

      “It is going to be okay, Darcy. Just tell them what you told me.”

      “Do they know about the phone call?”

      “I haven’t spoken with them yet. But I hope you plan to tell them. It may help them find out who did this. Isn’t that what you want?”

      “Of course it’s what I want. But how can I explain what the man said to me? Not to mention, no one really knows I’m Jesse’s daughter. What if Jesse doesn’t want anyone to know?”

      “I don’t think you can keep being Jesse’s daughter a secret any longer.” He smiled. “You have nothing to fear from Jesse’s friends. I know that much. Which makes me wonder why—”

      “Why he kept it a secret?” she said, finishing the question for him. “I don’t know. It’s not a topic you just jump right into the first time you meet your father.”

      And now he might die and she would never know.

      Darcy closed her eyes. Thomas was right. There was no escaping her identity any longer. She was the daughter of a man who had been attacked for hiding something. And the man who had committed—or commissioned—the attack was now after her, unless she turned over something she knew nothing about. It was all so cryptic and horrifying. She didn’t know what they wanted and if Jesse didn’t wake up and give it to them then...

      What did they have planned for her?

       THREE

      “Chief McClendon.” Thomas shook hands with the Lancaster head of police. They had met before during another stressful time in Thomas’s life, when his own niece had been murdered. And while most Amish didn’t have much to do with government or law enforcement agencies of any sort, Thomas had a healthy respect for the chief. McClendon had always kept his family’s confidences and respected their boundaries. Right now, Thomas had a sense that the chief would be helping him again through whatever was going on with Jesse and Jesse’s long-lost daughter.

      “This is Darcy Simmons.” Thomas moved his eyes quickly between her and McClendon. “And she is...well, she is Jesse Troyer’s daughter.”

      “Oh.” McClendon turned to Darcy, taking in her fancy clothes. “I guess you left the fold.”

      Darcy looked taken aback.

      “She was not born or raised Amish,” Thomas answered for her. “Jesse came to the Ordnung later in life.”

      “Oh, I see.” McClendon frowned. “So I understand Mr. Troyer was badly beaten?”

      “We hope he will pull through, but it’s too early to know his status for certain,” Thomas replied quickly, wanting to keep Darcy focused on the positive.

      She looked well past the point of exhaustion. Her hands shook. Her eyes were swollen. She seemed so horribly...alone.

      “I’ll need to ask you a few questions about your...well, about Jesse,” McClendon said to Darcy. “And about what happened earlier today.”

      She nodded.

      “You add in anything in