Plain Pursuit (12 page)

“Wow. You’re really worried. What do you think is wrong with David? He seems fine.”

“I hope he is,” Noah said. “I’ll go over the test results with Ken and get him to bump up David’s appointment.”
He smiled in her direction. “Let’s don’t worry about what we’re not sure of.”

The problem was that Noah was sure. He wanted to confirm with Ken, but he knew exactly what was wrong with David. He had seen it before. He just didn’t want to be the one to tell Samuel his son was in end-stage renal failure.

8

NOAH COULD SENSE IT WAS COMING. THE QUESTION HE’D been dreading. And he was right.

She waited until they were at the river and had finished the sandwiches they’d picked up at the deli. As Chloe romped and played at the water’s edge, occasionally jumping in, Carley hit him with it.

“So, Noah . . .” She stuffed her sandwich remains into the bag.

“Guess you’re ready for me to fess up.” He sighed. “And a deal’s a deal.”

Pulling her knees to her chest, she rested her chin on her hands. “You didn’t murder anyone or anything, did you?”

It would have been funny if she didn’t look so serious. “No. Of course not.”

“Something illegal?”

“No, Carley. I’m afraid it’s not anything near that juicy.” He tried to avoid her questioning eyes. “But it’s something I’m not proud of, either.”

She didn’t say anything, so he went on. “I was eighteen when I left the district. I slept on a friend’s couch, passed the college entrance exam, and started taking basic classes. I had a little money I had earned selling birdhouses at the farmers’ market. When that ran out, I was determined to find a way to put myself through college and medical school. I worked two jobs for a while—at a drugstore in Paradise and part-time doing construction on the weekends—but I was barely getting by.”

He paused and she nodded for him to continue.

“Anyway, I wrote a book.” Here came the hard part. “About my family.”

“But—” She was starting to get the point. “Ahh. I’m assuming the book was not well received by your family?”

“That would be an understatement.”

Why’d I ever agree to this?
Because it could possibly help him make amends with Samuel, and she needed to know the issues. “I’m not proud of it, Carley. Every family, even Amish families, has things they don’t want the general public—or even their neighbors—to know.” He thought about the blue crate in his extra bedroom, filled with books and other memories from his old life, and shook his head. “It might not have been well received by my family, but the public loved it. I was twenty when I wrote it. Young and stupid. A friend who was a journalism major showed it to his professor, who edited it for me and showed me how to submit it to publishers. To my surprise, it sold—and I got an advance big enough to get me through the next semester.”

“What was it called?” She eyed him cautiously, for the moment keeping her opinions to herself.

“When you hear the book title, you’ll understand why Samuel can’t seem to get past his resentment. I was bitter at the time. The shunning was worse than I imagined. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought my family would make an exception for my choices and that I’d still have them in my life. I was taught to know otherwise, but still . . .”

He watched a mix of curiosity and pity flash across her face. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Carley. I know you think shunning is cruel, but I knew the choice I was making. And regardless of my family’s reaction, what I did was wrong. Divulging personal aspects of their lives was—is—unforgivable.”

“What’s the name of the book? Maybe you’re being too hard on yourself.”

Strange. He felt he hadn’t been hard enough on himself. “Would you have written a book about your family, spilling all the personal details?” The question was rhetorical. “The name of the book is
Banned by Blood: An Amish Shunning
.”

Whatever family issues Noah had offered up in the book, one thing was certain—he was remorseful. “Noah, it was a crummy thing to do. But you said yourself, you were young. And it’s clear to me that you’re sorry. Part of being Christian is forgiving, right? God forgave you, and you have to forgive yourself.” She gave him no chance to respond. “There’s a lot I don’t get about the Amish faith. Like I told you before, this whole shunning thing is a cruel process I have a hard time understanding. But forgiveness should be adhered to as a Christian way to live. I would think even more so in such a religious community.”

“Careful, Carley. You’re diving into a conversation about God, and you said you’re not comfortable with that.”

“I believe in God.” She knew her tone was defensive, but it was true. “I believe in heaven and hell, the forgiveness of sins—all of it. I’m just not usually comfortable talking about it, because there’s something missing in my relationship with Him. As for the book you wrote, it’s done, it’s over. Time for everyone to move on. Forgive yourself, Noah. I’m sure God has forgiven you.”

“I think God has forgiven me. As for it being done and over—I’m reminded of the error of my ways in the form of a quarterly royalty check. Don’t get me wrong, it’s no huge sum of money. But evidently people are interested in an insider’s look at shunning. And all the little details of my childhood.” He grimaced.

“Has everyone in your family read the book?”

“I don’t know. Like I told you, my sisters, Ivan, and my mother responded to my letters over the years. None of them mentioned the book. In my letters, I apologized repeatedly for writing it. But as is their way, it just wasn’t brought up. There weren’t a lot of letters. A couple of dozen or so through the years to all of them. Samuel never responded.” He paused. “And there are several stories about Samuel in the book.”

“Like what?” Carley was trying to envision how she would feel about Adam if he had written a book about their family. While she couldn’t think of anything overly interesting about her family, she supposed she would feel betrayed just the same.

Noah rubbed his forehead. “There were some great stories in the book that I was proud to share.” He smiled slightly. But only for a moment. “And then there were other stories I had no business making public.”

Carley waited.

“Samuel and I saw something that we shouldn’t have when we were kids. Samuel was twelve. I was thirteen. We were somewhere we weren’t supposed to be.” He glanced in her direction then out toward the road. “We made a pact that we’d never tell a soul.”

“And you included that story in the book?”

He ran his hands through his hair and blew out a hard breath. “Yeah, I did.”

She leaned back on her elbows, crossed her ankles.

Noah struggled. He kept opening his mouth to speak then stopping to shake his head. Maybe she should let him off the hook.

But she didn’t.

“We snuck out of the house late one night,” he began, avoiding eye contact. “It was on a Saturday. I remember that because I’ll never forget how I felt at church service the next day.”

He seemed hesitant to continue and lost in recollections. But after a break, he went on.

“Anyway, we took off on foot across the pasture, carrying a flashlight, heading to the Lapp farm. We were scared to walk down the road, afraid someone might see us. So instead we crossed three pastures to get there. We were supposed to meet Johnny Lapp in the barn. He was older than us—sixteen. And he was in his
rumschpringe
.”
He glanced again in Carley’s direction. “Remember, that’s a coming of age for the Amish, when they can run around. Parents tend to look the other way during that time in a kid’s life.”

Carley nodded.

“But Johnny wasn’t there. Samuel and I snuck into the barn and waited. Johnny had promised us some cigarettes. We just wanted to feel grown up. We’d never done anything like that before. But after an hour, when Johnny never showed up, we assumed he couldn’t get out of the house. Plus we were starting to get really nervous that Pop would realize we were gone.

“We had just started to tiptoe out of the barn when we heard a screen door slam. We took two steps backward into the barn and squatted down as fast as we could and turned off the flashlight. The moon was full that night. We watched through the slats in the barn as Johnny walked alongside his pop, across the yard, and over near the woodshed. Samuel and I tried not to breathe, but I swear I could hear Samuel’s heartbeat.”

Carley was thinking this type of thing would be common in the city—kids sneaking out behind their parents’ backs. She wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about. In her later years, she shared with her mother some of the things she and her girlfriends had done when they were young.

“Jake Lapp started taking a strap to Johnny. In a different way than Pop had ever taken a strap to any of us.” Noah shook his head. “He beat that boy silly. Over and over. And Samuel and I just watched, peeking through the slats in the barn. Although if the truth be told, I closed my eyes after I watched Johnny fall to the ground.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Carley wasn’t sure what to say. What started as an innocent story had turned into something horrible. She was sickened, and she regretted ever pushing Noah to tell it to her.

“Samuel wet himself,” Noah went on. “It felt like forever before Johnny’s pop walked back into the house. Johnny stood up and looked toward the barn. He probably figured we were in there. That we saw everything. We watched him limp across the yard and into the house. We waited about five minutes before we bolted out of the barn and headed toward home.”

Carley swallowed hard.

“Please understand, Carley. That is not the way things are done in an Amish community. But I certainly exploited the rarity of that one situation in the book. Oh, I changed the names and everything. But to this day, I wonder if Johnny Lapp ever read the book. Or his pop, for that matter. I’m guessing Samuel did.”

“That would be hard—to see something like that happen to a friend, especially at that age.” Carley’s parents had never laid a hand on her. She couldn’t imagine. And this didn’t sound like a bitter explosion on Noah’s part. To Carley, it seemed like a childhood memory he needed somebody to hear.

Today she’d seen a vulnerable side of him. He was flawed yet admirable, his pushiness fueled by his own desire to right his wrongs.

“The next morning, church service was at a neighbor’s house. Jake Lapp’s voice seemed to rise above everyone else’s as he sang ‘Amazing Grace.’ Johnny never looked at me or Samuel once. And Samuel and I vowed to never talk of it or tell anyone. For whatever reason,” he said, pausing, “I shared it with the world, making all the Amish look like child abusers, and that is so far from the truth. These people are the most peaceful people in the world. I made them look ugly by highlighting that one rare incident.” His face twisted in painful recollection.

“Noah, clearly what you saw had a profound effect on you.”

“I should have kept that particular story to myself. I also probably could have left out the one about
Mamm
causing a small grease fire in the kitchen one day, or the one about Mary Ellen questioning where babies come from. But, Carley—”

The passion in his tone pulled her upright.

“I told some beautiful stories in the book. Tales I’m proud to have been a part of. But my bitterness was intertwined with the good stuff. And my family—this community in general—is so private. What I did was inexcusable.”

“Noah,” she said softly, “we don’t have to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to.” If he was trying to pull at her heartstrings to get her to talk to Samuel, it was working. “I understand you’re sorry for writing the book. I guess I’m wondering how you think I can soften this situation with Samuel. I don’t know if I can do that. It sounds like he’s been bitter about this for a long time. He didn’t even tell his wife about the book. Or about you.”

“He probably doesn’t want her to read it. There are things in there I wouldn’t want my wife to read.”

Interesting. Carley wondered if he’d ever had a wife. “Have you ever been married?”

Noah looked nonplussed at the abrupt change in topic. “No. What about you?”

“Nope. Never married.” She thought about Dalton and how they had been moving in that direction.

“How has someone as beautiful as you averted marriage all these years?” His tone was so sincere, her heart fluttered.

“Thank you for the compliment, but it’s not like I’m that old,” she said sheepishly. “Anyway, I know you’re hoping I can help you with Samuel, but I don’t see how.”

“Maybe you can just talk to Lillian. She didn’t grow up Amish. Maybe she won’t be as staunch in her views.” Shifting his position in the grass next to her, Noah turned to face her. “I left Lancaster County to do my residency in Minnesota because I needed to get away from here. I thought some distance would be good. But there was no place far enough to run from the demons in my head. So I came back.”

Carley was touched by Noah’s emotion about his circumstances, but was it appropriate for her to try to sway Samuel via Lillian?

“Noah, I can see your regret. I can hear it in your voice. Naturally, you miss your family, but Lillian is my friend, and I don’t want to abuse her hospitality by butting my nose in where it doesn’t belong. Why don’t you just tell Samuel all this? Maybe you don’t need a liaison.”