Plain pursuit

by Beth Wiseman

  He smiled slightly and shook his head.

  “What?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.

  “Guess we’re going to have to talk about it.”

  “Talk about what?” Her fingers nervously twitched within his.

  Noah brought her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. “I don’t want things getting weird between us. You’ve gone from being glued to my bedside to disappearing for almost twenty-four hours. Evidently I spooked you somehow.”

  “No, no. I’m not spooked. We’re friends.” As much as she’d like to pursue more, what was the point?

  “Friends?” He sounded disappointed, but quickly smiled and added, “Okay. Friends.”

  She returned the smile, but his eyes darkened. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

  His fingers were still interwoven with hers. “Actually, I extended my trip. I wanted to help Lillian for a while—and you.”

  “Get me back on my feet and settled in? And then you’re going to leave?”

  “Well, I do have a job and a life in Houston.” Lies. There was no life for her there anymore.

  “You want to stay, Carley. I can see it in your eyes.” He arched his brows, almost daring her to argue. “This is a great place to live.”

  “I’m going to stay. Until you and David are better.”

  So many things need to be said, Noah thought. But Carley was uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to push her too much. She might bolt out of the room, and he didn’t want that.

  Nothing felt more unmanly than lying in a hospital bed. He would wait until he was back on his feet before he pursued this any further. Besides, knowing the nurse would enforce the visitation rules, he wanted to spend as much time with Carley as possible. And he didn’t want her to feel pressured. He just wanted to get to know her better.

  “What are your plans for tomorrow?” He still had hold of her hand and gently entwined his fingers with hers, without much of a response.

  She took a deep breath, raked her free hand through her hair, and avoided looking at him. “Lots to do tomorrow. So I probably won’t be back to see you until this time tomorrow.”

  “Lots to do helping Lillian?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She wasn’t telling the truth, and she looked like a woman on trial. “Carley, what’s going on with you? Why are you so nervous?”

  “I’m not nervous.”

  Why couldn’t she say what was on her mind? She was backtracking, which in turn made him think about retreating. He had always been able to keep his emotions at a manageable level when it came to women; perhaps he needed to remind himself of that.

  But he knew why she was refusing to open up to him. She just wasn’t ready to talk about it.

  Don’t push her.

  “Tomorrow when I come back to the hospital, do you want me to bring you something to eat?” she asked out of the blue. “I know that hospital food can get old.”

  She continued to avoid eye contact, and her hand felt like a limp noodle within his.

  “Sure. That’d be great,” he answered, then deliberated for a moment.

  He let go of her hand, cupped her cheek, and guided her face to his. She hesitated when his lips drew near, but then her eyes finally locked with his in the familiar way they had in the past. Gently he touched his lips to hers. There was no resistance, no attempt to pull away. Just him loving her, and her loving him. He could feel it.

  “Carley,” he said softly. She pulled back slightly, but her eyes stayed with him. “I know you don’t want to leave here. I know you don’t want to leave me either.”

  Noah watched her take another deep breath. But she didn’t say anything.

  “Say it, Carley. Tell me there’s something more than friendship going on between us.” He knew he shouldn’t be pushing her, but he kept on. “Talk to me, Carley—the way you did when I was in the coma. I could hear bits and pieces, and—”

  Carley pulled away from him and jumped out of the chair. “What?” Oh no! This is terrible.

  She was consumed by embarrassment, and her heart was pounding in her chest. How much had he heard while he was in the coma? Could people really hear when they weren’t fully conscious? Her mind was running amok and she was trying to recall her conversation with Lillian—the very personal moment when she’d told Lillian that she cared about Noah.

  Oh no. What else did I say? Closing her eyes, she tried to remember.

  She could hear him saying her name, but her mind was still traveling back to her conversation with Lillian—when she was speaking freely, assuming Noah wasn’t listening.

  “Carley, listen to me,” Noah said as he reached out his hand to her. She backed away, out of his reach.

  What else did I say?

  They had talked about God, about how she felt God had let her down. They had talked about the possibility of things developing past friendship between her and Noah. She cringed as she recalled crying to Lillian about how she couldn’t have children. It was all very personal. How much had he heard?

  “Carley . . .” His eyes pleaded with her, but she was too embarrassed to talk about this right now. “Don’t run away. Everything is fine. Come here and sit down. Please, Carley. Sweetie, just come sit down.”

  She backed up another step.

  His gentle tone. The way he called her sweetie. Oh, Noah, what’s happening with us? I want to love you. I want you to love me. And love might be enough in the short term, but Noah wanted a family. Had he not heard the part about her being unable to have children? Did he not understand that she was an incomplete woman?

  “Don’t go, Carley. I just caught some of the things that were being said around me. I heard you say you cared about me. I’m sure of that. Tell me, Carley. Tell me you feel what I’m feeling.”

  “You don’t know everything, Noah,” she cried. “You don’t know everything. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be telling me all this.”

  Her tears were threatening to spill over. She bolted out of the room.

  19

  CARLEY COULDN’T FACE NOAH, BUT SHE WAS GOING TO make sure the clinic was organized before she left Lancaster County. Dana and the other women were hard workers, but Carley was the one who knew how things should be set up.

  After Rebecca, Sadie, and the girls left for the day, Carley and Dana decided to shirk their other responsibilities and keep working. They were fairly certain they could finish the clinic that afternoon. Carley called Lillian, who encouraged her to finish, and Dana phoned her boss at the market. While her employer was not as eager as Lillian to comply, Dana ended up getting the afternoon off.

  “It’s been three days, Carley,” Dana said. “I don’t understand how you can hurt Noah like this, not going to see him at the hospital. He told me what’s going on.”

  Carley crawled out from underneath the receptionist’s desk after plugging in the telephone and fax machine, bumping her head on the way up. “What did he tell you?”

  Dana tossed a box of rubber bands onto the desk, clearly irritated. “He told me he thinks you could be the one. And that you won’t even talk to him.” She paused and threw Carley a look. “Why even bother with this clinic? You’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “You’re nineteen years old. What do you know about relationships?” Carley spouted at Dana, standing up to face her. How interesting that Dana was pushing this—she’d have thought the girl would be glad she was leaving.

  “Noah was supposed to be released today, but his incision came open and he’s going to have to stay until tomorrow.” Dana eyed Carley as if she were the enemy, then added, “I might be only nineteen years old, Carley, but I’ve been through more than most people much older than me. And no matter what . . .” Her eyes teared up. “I want Noah to be happy. He deserves that. And if I can’t be the one . . .”

  Carley’s heart suddenly ached for Dana, and she realized how far they’d come. She ran her hands through her hair. “Noah is a good man, and—”

  “Do you love him?” Dana a
sked aggressively.

  Carley closed her eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “Go talk to him, Carley.”

  Carley ignored her comment and attempted to change the subject. “Noah would have struggled to get everything organized and ready. Since Mary Ellen, Rebecca, Sadie, and the girls have been taking turns coming by and helping, we’re going to be finished today. When Noah gets released, he’ll have to rest at home, but the clinic will be ready when he is.”

  “So you’re just going to split tomorrow without saying good-bye to Noah? That’s horrible, Carley.” Dana was clearly disgusted.

  “Noah’s family is coming around. Most of them, anyway. Hopefully Samuel will open up more to Noah. His mother, sisters, Ivan, Sadie, and other members of the community are spending some time with Noah on the sly. Mary Ellen said yesterday that Bishop Ebersol is looking the other way. For now, anyway.” Carley shrugged. “So hopefully it will all work out for Noah.”

  “Rebecca told me at the hospital that they will still only use Noah’s clinic for emergencies,” Dana said as she stacked pens and pencils in a holder on the desk. “That stinks. I don’t care what the bishop says. Everyone’s worked so hard to get this place ready. Why would the women help like that but then not come to the clinic?” She paused then glared at Carley. Under her breath she added, “Guess it’s kinda like you working so hard and then leaving.”

  “Dana, I’m well aware that you’re angry with me, but I have a life and a job in Houston. Everyone is expecting me back. Like I said, Noah’s family is around. Plus he has you and Jenna.” She turned her attention to the fax machine and unwound the cord. “And I figured you’d be ready for me to go.”

  Dana folded her arms across her chest and raised her chin. Carley prepared herself for an attack, but Dana surprised her. “He knows you can’t have children,” she announced.

  Her eyes widening, Carley felt her heart flutter. “What?”

  “Noah said that he could hear things going on around him sometimes. He said he thought he was dreaming part of the time. But when you left so upset the other day, he asked Lillian if it was true that you couldn’t have children. Lillian told him it was. He doesn’t care, Carley. He cares for you and wants to see where this is going.”

  Lillian told him? Why hadn’t her friend confessed that bit of information over supper the past few nights? After working at the clinic in the mornings, Carley had been staying at the farm in the afternoons while Lillian and Samuel went to the hospital. Suppertime was their only time to really talk. She knew why Lillian hadn’t said anything—because Lillian knew Carley was right about this, that Noah’s future would never be complete if she stayed.

  “So everyone has just been talking behind my back, planning out what I should do with my life?” Her eyes started to burn, and she blinked back the tears. “I know everyone is just trying to help, Dana, and find a happy ending, but Noah has said repeatedly that he wants a family, and I can’t give him any children.” She paused. “I’m not going to subject him to a life with me that’s void of something he has always wanted. I know what it’s like to want a child desperately and not be able to have one. I think about it every day. I’m not doing that to Noah. I care about him enough to let him go before things get out of hand.”

  Dana sat down in the chair, her eyes glued to Carley. “What about adoption?”

  “Waiting lists are long for adoption. I hope that’s an option for me someday. But Noah will go on to meet someone else and they will have lots of babies, I’m sure. If he settled down with me, he would eventually resent me, even if he doesn’t mean to.”

  Dalton had promised to love her no matter what.

  Just words.

  “Wow. You really don’t know Noah as well as you think.”

  Carley lowered her head. She didn’t know what else to say. Didn’t Dana realize her heart was breaking? It would be incredibly hard to walk away from Noah.

  “Aren’t you going to miss us?” Jenna asked Carley.

  Carley admired their project for the last time. They were done, and it looked fantastic. With the exception of some medical equipment they were unsure how to set up, the clinic was ready. In their effort to keep things Plain, there were no pictures on the white walls and no television in the waiting room. Two potted green ivies were in the corners. There were ten functional brown chairs—five against each wall—with one coffee table in the middle of the room. Stacked in three piles were various Christian books and magazines, all of which Carley found in one of the boxes Noah had in the back.

  “Of course I’m going to miss you.” Carley moved toward the door, the ache in her heart growing with each step.

  After locking the door behind the three of them, she scooped Jenna into her arms. “I’m going to miss you very much.”

  Jenna squeezed Carley’s neck. “I think you should marry Dr. Noah and stay here.”

  “Oh, Jenna.” Carley pulled her close. She glanced at Dana and then back at Jenna. “But I can write you letters and maybe even come back and visit. Would you like that?”

  Carley’s heart sank when Jenna’s eyes filled with water. She moved toward the two cars, Jenna still in her arms. Dana shrugged when Carley looked to her for guidance.

  She leaned against Dana’s car, kissed Jenna on the cheek, and realized how much she cared about Dana, Jenna, and the other members of the community. She wasn’t just leaving Noah—she was leaving her friends. They all felt more like family than what she had waiting for her back in Houston.

  Carley blinked back her own tears and whispered, “Don’t cry, Jenna. Please.”

  She had just buckled the sniffling girl into the car when her cell phone rang.

  “If that’s Noah, Carley, you need to answer it,” Dana instructed. “He said he’s been calling you and you won’t answer.”

  Carley snatched the phone from the pocket of her blue jeans. “It’s not Noah. It’s my brother. I’ll call him back. He’s probably just wanting to confirm when my flight gets in tomorrow.” She pushed the Mute button.

  She returned her attention to comforting Jenna, who calmed down after Carley promised to call and write. She closed the car door and walked around to Dana’s side of the car.

  “Look, I can’t talk to him, Dana,” she said. “If I see him or talk to him, I’ll stay, and that wouldn’t be fair to him in the long run. I’ve listened to the messages he’s left over and over again. This is hurting me, and you being angry is just making me feel worse.” She hung her head as the tears finally spilled over.

  Dana wrapped her arms around Carley. “I didn’t like you very much at first.” She paused. “And you know why. But now I think you should stay. I know I’m just a kid to you, but I’m really going to miss you. It’s been fun working with you on the office.”

  Carley returned the hug. “You’re a kid who’s been through a lot and who is smarter than most at your age. I’m going to miss you too.”

  Carley pulled into the driveway at Lillian and Samuel’s, and she knew it was going to be even more difficult to say good-bye to Lillian. Watching Dana and Jenna drive off had been tough.

  She sat in the car with her head resting on the steering wheel until she heard the screen door slam. She looked up to see Lillian standing on the porch, bouncing Anna on her hip.

  “You look exhausted,” Lillian said when Carley trudged up the steps and onto the porch.

  “But the clinic looks great. And it will be all ready for Noah when he’s well enough to work.”

  “It’s a wunderbaar gut thing you did, Carley.”

  “I had lots of help.” She sat down in one of the rocking chairs on the porch as Lillian paced with Anna.

  “But none of it would have happened without you. Somehow you seem to be the glue that holds everything together. And I don’t mean just the clinic. You’ve influenced everyone around here—challenged them to rethink certain issues. Even my husband seems to be second-guessing some of his decisions.”

  “I don’
t know about all that,” Carley said.

  She paused and considered telling Lillian about the letter she’d found and read, but decided against it. “Oh, by the way—I put those books you gave me to read to Jenna back in your room. I laid them on the nightstand.” She intentionally placed the books on the nightstand on Samuel’s side of the bed—with My Family on the top, the letter protruding from within the pages.

  “Ya, danki. I found them. I put them in a box with all of David’s other books.” Lillian shook her head. “I’ve been telling Samuel to store those, but they’re still sitting in the corner of our bedroom.” Good! There is still hope that Samuel will find the letter, Carley thought. She moved along to another subject that was weighing on her mind. “Dana said you told Noah I couldn’t have children.”

  “Ya, I did.” Lillian sat down in the other rocker. “The rest of the family is still worried about Bishop Ebersol, so they keep their visits with Noah brief. But I’ve been checking on him, and we’ve talked. Carley, I understand that you think you are sparing him a life of misery by leaving, but the man is crazy in lieb with you. Oh, he won’t admit it, but I can tell. And he’s very hurt that you stopped coming to the hospital and that you won’t return his calls.”

  Carley put her face in her hands. “Lillian, if I see him, it will be too hard for me to go. I’ve even prayed about this, and I’m not getting any answers.” She lifted her face and looked at Lillian. “Besides, we haven’t known each other that long. I’m sure that once Noah has recovered and is back on his feet, he’ll realize this isn’t love at all. He just needed someone. Now he has his family—at least some of the time. Trust me, Lillian. I know how important it is for a man to have a complete woman.” She fought the tremble in her voice. “And I’m not complete. Dalton—”

  “Carley,” Lillian interrupted, “Noah is not Dalton. You don’t know that he wouldn’t want to be with you no matter what.”

  There were those words again—no matter what. She offered Lillian a half smile, letting her know she appreciated the effort, even though her friend was wrong in her assumptions. Carley knew better. She changed the subject.