Plain pursuit

by Beth Wiseman

  Noah couldn’t seem to rid himself of the shame and guilt he’d felt over the years. In his heart, he knew God had forgiven him. He just needed to forgive himself. He had a plan that would offer some redemption. A plan he was already putting into play.

  He decided he wasn’t ready for that subject, so he changed it. “Do you mind my asking what religion you are? I was just wondering if your beliefs are similar to the Amish and if you’re a Christian.”

  “I was raised Catholic. I don’t really go to church these days, though.”

  He sensed bitterness in her tone. “I’m not sure you have to go to church to be a Christian and have a relationship with God.”

  She shrugged, then sat quietly.

  “You don’t like talking about God, do you?”

  “You talk about Him a lot,” she answered. “I would think you’d feel a little cheated by Him.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Your calling cost you your family. That doesn’t seem Godly in my eyes.”

  “I won’t deny that I’ve had my share of trouble coping with that. But to question God’s will only sets you up to take your own path instead of the one He has planned for you. Once you know you are a child of God, you can trust Him to make the right decisions for you, even if you don’t know it at the time.”

  “You know, you’re right. I’m not really comfortable talking about God, Noah.”

  “Let’s change the subject.”

  To his surprise, she continued the conversation. “I went to church the first part of my life. It was ingrained in me since I was a child that we were to act a certain way, go to church each Sunday, and say our prayers at night. I did all those things. I just didn’t . . . get it. I still pray sometimes. I’m just not sure God is listening.”

  As much as Noah wanted to tell her God was listening, he wasn’t sure this was the best topic of conversation. It seemed to be a touchy subject for her.

  “Carley, I don’t really know you. I shouldn’t have brought it up. We can move on to something else.”

  But she continued.

  “If He were listening, He would have heard my prayers about a couple of things very dear to me,” she said.

  “Sometimes we can’t understand God’s plan for us.”

  “You’re right. I definitely don’t understand His plan. My mother died about six months ago in an accident. I prayed really hard for her when she was in the hospital. She died anyway.”

  “I’m sorry, Carley.” He hesitated, realizing he was treading on delicate ground. “I know it’s hard to understand how something like that could be part of God’s plan. Were you and your mother close?”

  Her face lit up as she turned toward him. “Very. My dad died when I was young. My mom and I were very close. She was my best friend.”

  “So you’re without much of a family?”

  “I have a brother, Adam.”

  “That’s a nice shop.” Noah slowed the car and pointed to his left. “It’s not owned by the Amish, but everything in there is handmade by the Amish. Do you want to stop?”

  “That’d be great.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “That’s okay. Not much else to tell.”

  Carley couldn’t get over some of the prices on the quilts. “Look at this,” she whispered to Noah, running her hand across the counterpane. “This quilt costs two thousand dollars.”

  “I know. It’s amazing people pay that for a cover.” He chuckled.

  “It’s not just a cover. Look at the intricate details, the fine stitching, and the coordination of colors. It’s gorgeous.”

  “Buy it, then.”

  Trust the arrogant doc to speak so casually about such prices. “I don’t have that kind of money.” She pushed the quilt aside, moving along to the next one on the rack. “This one is only seven hundred. It’s pretty too.”

  “Buy it,” he repeated, grinning.

  “You in a hurry?” She inched one brow playfully upward.

  “No.”

  “Oh, I thought maybe you were worried about Chloe.” They’d left her in the car with the windows down.

  “Chloe’s fine.” Joining her search through the rack, he said, “Hey, now here’s a bargain. Only four hundred dollars. Buy this one.”

  Carley shook her head. “You’re such a man. Hurry, buy this one—buy that one. I’d have to see every single one of these before I bought anything. And there are at least a hundred here.”

  “I might have to go walk Chloe.”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to go through all of them. I’m going to see if I can buy a quilt at the mud sale on Saturday.”

  “Where’s the mud sale? I didn’t know one was going on this weekend. Have you ever been to one? Do they have those in Texas?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. I’d never heard of a mud sale till I got here. I’ll get a better deal on a quilt there. It’s in Penryn.”

  “Wow. You’ll definitely be going off the beaten path. And you’ll have a good time. It’s run almost entirely by the Amish. The quilts will be the biggest-selling items.”

  “That’s what Lillian said. Her nieces, Linda and Miriam, are so excited about the sale. Especially Linda. They are both darling girls, and Linda is so full of energy.”

  Continuing to flip through the quilts, she glanced at Noah. It took her a couple of seconds to notice his forlorn expression. She turned to face him. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. They are your nieces too. Have you ever seen them?”

  “No.” He slid his hands into his pockets, his eyes veering to the far side of the store. “There’re some more quilts over there.”

  “What about pictures? Have you seen pictures of any of your nieces and nephews?”

  “No pictures. Remember, Amish don’t take pictures or pose for pictures. No graven images.”

  “Oh.” Carley tapped her finger to her chin and knew she might be suggesting something she’d later regret. “They’ll all be at the mud sale. Everyone. Your sisters, both brothers, and all your nieces and nephews.”

  “I don’t know . . . ,” he said when he’d figured out what she was saying.

  “It’s a public event. You could at least see them from afar, if nothing else.”

  He considered the idea. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

  “We’d better get back to Chloe.” She maneuvered around the quilt rack and toward the exit. Noah followed but seemed a million miles away.

  The covered bridge past Ronks made for a nice place to stop. Noah pulled the car off the road, and it wasn’t long before Carley began to scurry around with Chloe, who was clearly thrilled with all the attention. He wasn’t sure who had more energy—or who was having more fun—her or the dog. Dressed in blue jeans, a white cotton blouse, and white tennis shoes, Carley was an enchanting vision amid the colorful wildflowers. Her multi-layered blonde locks hit the base of her neck, lending her a sophisticated yet youthful look.

  “She’ll wear you out,” he hollered, pointing to Chloe.

  “She’s great!” Carley ran in circles with the dog.

  Noah watched them, surprised she hadn’t hit him up yet about his secret. Actually, it was no secret at all. She was worldly enough to have already figured it out. Googling his name on the Internet would have quieted her curiosity.

  Just the thought of his decision over a decade ago made him cringe.

  “Whew!” Carley returned to Noah’s side. “You were right. She wore me out.” With an ear-to-ear grin, she bent down and scratched Chloe’s ears. “But you are so much fun.” She rose. “I just love her.”

  “Me too.” Noah gave Chloe a pat on her head. “I hope to have a houseful of kids someday, but she’ll have to do for now.”

  Carley’s face tensed.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No.” She quickly turned to the structure on their right. “I love these covered bridges.”

  Looking at her, thinking of children, he voiced a q
uestion he’d tried to hold back. “Did Lillian get David an appointment with Dr. Bolton?”

  “Yes. But it’s not for two weeks.”

  “Did she give him my name? Two weeks is too long to wait.” Noah sighed. “I’ll call Ken tomorrow and talk to him.”

  “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.”