A Forbidden Rumspringa (Gay Amish Romance Book 1) (25 page)

The floor beneath Isaac’s boots was the color of February—merciless gray. It was everywhere in the hospital, as though it had seeped into the other people in the waiting room as well. The lights overhead were too bright, and he wished they’d turn them down.

It had been a decade since he’d seen a doctor. The chicken pox had spread through the community like wildfire, and Mother had taped mittens to his hands so he couldn’t scratch at his face. They’d visited the doctor in Red Hills who dealt with the Amish, but in Zebulon they didn’t even have a doctor. The Amish Isaac knew only went in emergencies. Otherwise they used the home remedies in the paper or visited a chiropractor in Warren for their ailments.

He shifted in the thinly padded chair and flipped his knife over in his hands. His hat balanced on one knee, and when he glanced up at the clock on the wall—which had seemed to stop telling time it moved so slowly— a few people jerked their heads away.

Isaac smoothed his fingers over the handle of his knife, the blade folded neatly inside. He obviously had no wood to whittle, so he examined the old metal. He’d looked at the knife a million times in the years since Aaron had left it on his pillow, but now it seemed strangely new. From the outside it was nothing—an object like any other. But the truth hidden inside could slice to the core.

Bible passages unfurled in his mind, as if Bishop Yoder and the preachers hovered over him, their breath harsh in his ears.

For if we go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a fearful expectation of judgment, and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries.

He slid his fingertips along the knife’s innocent seam.

But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.

Isaac flicked open the knife, the silver blade gleaming above the endless gray.

If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.

“Sir!”

He jolted, looking up a young nurse standing over him, her lips compressed in a thin line. “Huh?”

“No weapons allowed in the hospital. Either you put it away immediately or I’ll have to call security.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He snapped the knife shut and returned it to his pocket. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

The nurse sighed, face softening as she brushed away a strand of brown hair that had escaped her ponytail. She had dark skin, and her green uniform stretched over her swelling belly. “I’m sure you didn’t. How are you holding up?”

“Do you know where my friend David is? He rode in the ambulance with his mother. I haven’t seen him, and no one will tell me anything.” They’d whisked Mary away for an examination as soon as they’d arrived, and ushered Isaac to the waiting room with no sign of David. “Is his mother all right?”

“Are you family? I’m not supposed to tell you anything if you’re not.”

“Yes.” Another lie to add to his collection—so many there was no sense in counting now.

The nurse arched an eyebrow but took the seat beside him, lowering herself with a hand to her back. “What’s your name?”

“Isaac.”

“Nice to meet you, Isaac. I’m Danielle.” She rooted in her pocket and pulled out a colored tube. “Lifesaver?”

He nodded and lifted his palm. She tapped two candies onto it, one orange and one green. He sucked the green one first, and the lime flavor spread over his tongue. “Thank you.”

“No prob.” Danielle popped a cherry circle into her mouth. “So, Mrs. Lantz is in surgery. It’ll likely be quite a while yet.”

“What about Mary?”

“Bumps and bruises, and they’ll keep her overnight for observation. But she should be just fine. She was very, very lucky.”

He thought of Mary in the back of the police car, her cap gone, blood and tears staining her face. “Where’s David? Mrs. Lantz’s son.”

“We put him in a quiet room to rest. He’s in shock. I can take you to see him for a few minutes if you want.”

Isaac sat up straighter. “Yes! Please.”

“I’ll show you the way.” With a soft grunt, she levered herself up.

He wasn’t sure if he should offer to help or not, but then it was too late and she was leading him down the hallway surprisingly quickly given her condition, her sneakers squeaking on the floor. She clearly wasn’t trying to hide that she was pregnant, and even rubbed her palm over her protruding belly as they walked.

They passed gurneys, some empty and some not, and people with clipboards brushed by, rushing here and there. Isaac carried his hat, trying not to stare at any of the patients as he sucked on the orange Lifesaver. Orange had been his favorite years ago, but today the taste was cloying and too sweet. All wrong.

After an area of many beds separated by curtains, they reached several doors. At the last, Danielle twisted the handle, knocking lightly and calling out. “David? You have a visitor.”

Locked cabinets lined the left side of the dim, narrow room above a counter and sink, the only light coming from beneath the cabinets. Against the right wall rested a gurney, where David sat on the side. His hat and coat hung from a hook on the wall, and his blue shirt was half untucked from his pants. At least now he was awake enough to meet Isaac’s gaze, although Isaac’s throat tightened at the grief shining from his pale eyes.

“A few minutes, okay?” Danielle gave Isaac’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, closing the door behind her.

“God, David.” Isaac dropped his hat and wrapped him in a hug, moving between David’s legs. “I was so worried. I
am
so worried. But Mary’s all right, and they’re looking after your mother. She’ll be fine. I know it.”
Another lie
. He longed to feel David’s arms around him, but David was limp.

David said something, his words muffled against Isaac’s shoulder.

“What?” Isaac drew back and caressed David’s hair.

A tear dangled on his lashes. “It’s my fault, Isaac. I should have gone to Eli’s like she asked. She and Mary would be safe at home.”

“No, no. You couldn’t have known. It isn’t your fault.” He pressed a kiss to David’s cold forehead.

“I should have gone. Instead I was—” He broke off, eyes squeezed shut.

“I know.”
Sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
Isaac choked down a sob. “I wish we could go back and take the pie instead.”

“I wish I’d never met you.”

Isaac staggered back as if he’d been struck, an iron band squeezing around his chest.

David reached for him, stumbling off the gurney. “No, I didn’t mean it. Forgive me. Oh God, forgive me.”

The counter rammed Isaac’s lower back as David desperately threw himself against him, fingers digging into Isaac’s skin.

“I didn’t mean it.” David’s words were hot on Isaac’s cheek. “I should wish it, but I don’t. I couldn’t. I can’t even be truly sorry for the things we’ve done. I know I’m a sinner all the way through. But I can’t be sorry when I love you so much.”

Isaac wasn’t sure whose tears he tasted. He shuddered as he forced his lungs to expand. David was shaking in his arms. “I love you too. We’ll find a way. We’ll fix this.”

With a long exhale, David went still. For a minute they only breathed, holding each other. David’s hair tickled Isaac’s cheek, and he rubbed against it. A clock ticked the seconds by, the world beyond them miles away.
We’ll fix this
. They had to.

The branches are gathered, thrown into the fire
…

When David straightened, he gazed at Isaac tenderly, brushing his fingers over Isaac’s cheek. “I wish I could have a picture of you, my Isaac.” He pressed their lips together.

The kiss was achingly gentle, David’s dry lips softened by his tears. He cradled Isaac’s head as he opened his mouth and slid their tongues together. Isaac melted against him, quaking. They had to find a way to be together.
He loves me. We love each other.

David whispered against his lips. “Always so sweet.”

Isaac was going to explain about the candies, but he just kissed David instead, leaning their foreheads together. “We’ll find a way.”

As he stepped back, David shook his head. “I wish that were true.”

Dread uncoiled like a serpent in Isaac’s belly. “It
is
true. It has to be.” He grabbed David’s arms.

“Don’t you see? God is punishing me. I must repent or my mother will die. Everyone I love will pay for my sins. Including you.”

“No.” Isaac’s heart pounded.

“You need to stay far away from me.”

“No! You don’t know what you’re saying. We’ll get through this together.” David was passive in his grasp, and Isaac wanted to shake him.

“We were never going to, Isaac. We’ve been lying to ourselves. Pretending it wouldn’t have to end.”

“Don’t say that!” Isaac trembled even as he recognized the truth in David’s words. “I love you, and you love me. Don’t you?”

A tear slipped down David’s cheek. “I love you more than anything. That’s why it has to be over. We were fooling ourselves, Isaac. Thinking we could break the rules and not face the consequences. You know it’s true.”

He clutched David’s hands. “It isn’t fair.”

An awful grimace contorted David’s face. “Perhaps that was God’s lesson for us all along.”

As if he’d been hollowed out with the scrape of a spoon, Isaac sagged against David, their lips finding each other for a last kiss.
No. This can’t be all there is.

Light and distant noise from the hallway washed over them, and Isaac jerked back, blinking at Danielle, her fist still raised where it had struck the door. She smiled sadly. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But there are some people here to see you. They’re very concerned. David, are you up to it?”

David scrubbed a hand over his face and hair. “Yes. I’m fine.” He tugged on his shirt, straightening it, and running his thumbs under his galluses.

“We were just…” The words tumbled out, and Isaac’s cheeks burned. “We weren’t…”

Danielle held up her hands. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, hon. And I won’t say anything to anyone, so breathe, okay?”

He nodded jerkily, picking up his hat from where he’d thrown it aside on the floor. “Thank you.”

She opened the door wider. “Ready?”

Gaze on the winter tiles, Isaac followed, David close behind but already beyond reach.

Isaac had barely entered the waiting room when he was knocked back, stumbling as Mother threw her arms around him. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged him. Closing his eyes, he was a child again for a moment even though he had to stoop to lay his head on her shoulder. He inhaled deeply for her scent—usually a mix of flour and sweat—but her cloak only smelled of the frigid air. Snowflakes melted beneath his cheek.

“Josiah Raber came to tell us he’d heard there’d been an accident with the Lantz buggy. He saw you and David out on the road earlier, and we thought…” Mother stepped back, dropping her arms and glancing around. She took a deep breath, clearly gathering her composure after her outburst.

Nausea washed through him, and Isaac kept his gaze on Father’s old boots a few feet away. “We’re fine.”
Where did Josiah see us? Near the motel?
He shoved away the panicked thought. It was shameful to even care about his secrets when Mrs. Lantz could very well die. “It was David’s mother, and his sister Mary.”

Father stepped forward and clapped a hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “Yes, we know that now. We went to the O’Brien’s up the road right away, and they drove us here. Praise the Lord you’re all right.”

Isaac forced himself to look up. He imagined his parents could see straight through him to the horrible truth, but they only watched him with quiet compassion. It somehow made it worse. Although he’d assured David it wasn’t his fault, Isaac couldn’t deny that if they’d gone to deliver the pie themselves it wouldn’t have happened. But maybe it would have. Perhaps it would be David on the operating table. Or dead.

He concentrated on breathing—in and out, in and out—until the dread loosened its grip. If not for Father’s steady hand on his shoulder, Isaac thought he might fly apart. But he had to be strong now. He stepped back, holding his head up. For the first time he was aware of several other people from Zebulon, a wall of black beyond his parents, Bishop Yoder and Deacon Stoltzfus among them. The scattered English people about stared with sympathetic curiosity.

Isaac watched David nearby, itching to hold him. He forced his gaze away, stomach lurching as his eyes met the deacon’s. Deacon Stoltzfus watched him with his usual stony expression, and Isaac looked down at his hands, realizing with a start that they were still bloody.

“David, we’re all praying for your mother,” the bishop intoned. “The Lord tests us, and His will is at times a mystery.”

David had left his hat and coat in the little room, and his hair stood up this way and that. No one approached him, and Isaac could see why. The tension seemed to vibrate from him. The shock had melted away and seemingly left anger and grief in its wake. David cleared his throat, and Isaac could sense the room holding its breath.