They spread out an old quilt that Naomi had tucked in the back of the van for the trip and Nick got their lines in the water. Other people nearby nodded a welcome but there was little talking. Naomi’s brother had always told her that fish were scared away by noisy conversation. She’d believed him but suspected her brother liked her being quiet as well. When she was younger she’d been quite the talkative younger sister. Now, she realized he might have been telling the truth.
She chuckled at the memory, and when Nick glanced over, she whispered what she’d remembered.
“You were lucky he took you,” he whispered back. “Guys don’t like to drag their sisters along anywhere. That only changes when they get older and having a baby sister along can get girls interested in them.”
Naomi laughed and shook her head. Then, as he continued to stare at her, she felt her face grow warm, her mouth grow dry.
It was the sun, she told herself. She wasn’t attracted to Nick.
She couldn’t be.
8
You’ve got a bite!”
Naomi blinked. She’d been sketching a quilt design on a pad of paper and saw that her line was bobbing. Jumping up, she began reeling in the fish that splashed in the water.
“Easy, easy,” Nick cautioned at her side.
A flick of the wrist and Naomi pulled the fish from the water and dropped it to the grassy bank where it flopped around. She looked up at Nick and found him grinning.
“Good job! I wasn’t sure when you said you liked to fish if you were good at it,” he told her.
“Too small, have to toss it back,” she muttered. Naomi unhooked the fish and saw his surprise when she looked up. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said.
“Were you expecting me to be squeamish and say, ‘Oh, please, Nick, I can’t touch it!’ and make you do it?”
“Well …”
“I can’t speak for all Amish women, but we’re not wimps,” she told him. “We help with farming, milk cows, anything and everything we have to do.”
“I know, I know,” he said. “You are woman; I hear you roar.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just something from a song. About women being strong, independent.”
She gave him a skeptical look as she tossed the fish back into the water. “You are a strange man, Nick.”
He laughed. “You have no idea.”
Naomi dropped the line back in the water and sat down again on the quilt. “Would you please get the hand sanitizer out of my purse for me?” She held up her hands and made a face.
“Sure.”
“Not that one!” she exclaimed. “That’s the lunch bag.”
Nick regarded the striped bag with the shoulder strap. “Really?”
“Figures you’d pick the lunch bag,” she said as he rooted through her purse and found the sanitizer. “I think you have a hollow leg.”
“Only when I’m around good food.” He opened the sanitizer cap and squirted some of the gel into her hands.
Naomi rubbed her hands together and then wiped them on a tissue from her purse. “I brought sandwiches and cookies. I had the feeling you might get hungry.”
“Speaking of hungry,” he said when his line bobbed. He reeled the fish in, a nice-sized one, and after unhooking it, put it in a bucket he’d brought.
“You said something about lunch?”
She shook her head. “Men. All about their stomachs.”
A little while later, fellow fishers began going home. Naomi sketched and didn’t catch anything else. Nick caught four more fish in quick succession—all big enough to join the fish in the bucket. He checked her nose, suggested she apply more sunscreen, then plopped himself on the quilt.
When she finally got a nibble on her line, Naomi jumped to her feet in a surge of excitement—and promptly slid on the grass and into the water.
She stood there, up to her ankles, stunned speechless. Laughter rang out. She raised her eyes and saw that the laughter came from Nick.
“Very funny!” she said. “The water’s not exactly warm.”
And she wasn’t the only one in it. Something brushed against her leg and she let out a yelp. Just a fish, she told herself, taking a cautious look. Not a snake. She tried to lift her foot and found the mud clung and wouldn’t let go.
He rose and hurried toward her. “It’s okay, you’re in shallow water. Just step out.”
“Be careful!” she cried. “That’s how I ended up in here!” He held out his hand. “Here, let me help you.”
But when she tried to lift her foot it was like being in an awful nightmare of being caught in quicksand. She looked down and tried to pull her foot out again but felt herself sinking, the mud sucking at her.
“Nick, I can’t lift my foot,” she said, starting to get panicky.
“Give me your hands,” he said.
Something bumped her again, something that was cold and slimy. She started to look but Nick jerked her hands.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and she raised her eyes and looked into his.
The thing in the water scraped her skin.
“Don’t look,” he said. “I’ve got you!”
When it touched her again, she looked down. The thing that swam around her foot looked prehistoric—a big greenish-brown fish with a long snout.
And row upon row of jagged teeth.
She never knew if it was the sight of the fish or Nick’s strong hands that lifted her from the water. She only knew that she was a quivering mass of nerves as he led her to the quilt.
“What was that?”
“Garfish.”
She looked up. An Amish man had strolled up with his pole.
“I hear some of ’em can get to be three, maybe four feet long,” he said, nodding and stroking his long beard. “Up to two hundred pounds. They’d make a meal for a lot of folk but they don’t taste gut.”
Speaking of tasting, thought Naomi, checking the ankle the thing had brushed against. Her skin wasn’t broken but she couldn’t wait to get the mud off and put some disinfectant on it anyway. The water hadn’t looked clean.
“It’s time to go home,” Nick said.
It wasn’t really a question. He was already picking up her purse and the lunch tote and pulling at the corner of the quilt she sat on.
“I just need to get my breath back,” she said.
“Do it in the car,” he said in a curt tone. “I just saw a log move in the water.”
She looked up and sure enough, what had looked like a log now had protruding eyes and a length of scales. And it was moving across the creek under its own power, leaving a rippling wake behind it.
“It’s okay, the gator won’t bother you if you don’t bother him,” the Amish man called behind them.
Naomi made it back to the van in under five seconds. Only when she’d slammed the door shut did she realize that she’d left her flip-flops behind in the creek.
Nick jumped into the driver’s side, throwing their things into the backseat once he’d closed his own door.
“Well,” he said. “That was a fishing trip I won’t soon forget.”
“Me, either,” she told him, her hand pressed to her chest. “Sorry for the mud.”
“No problem,” he told her, starting the van. “Sorry, I dropped the lunch bag.”
“The alligator will be disappointed,” she said dryly. “You ate everything.”
Then her hand flew to her head. “My hat! I lost the hat!”
Nick chuckled. “I wonder if the alligator is wearing it right now.”
The image made her laugh. “The whole thing is funny. Now.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Now that we’re safely in the car.”
Nick drove her home, and as he pulled up to the curb of the rental cottage, Naomi gasped. She’d thought the afternoon couldn’t get any worse.
She’d been wrong.
John Zook sat on the steps of the cottage, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
Nick laced up his ru
nning shoes and then rested his forearms on his thighs as he sat on his bed. He felt hung over from a bad night’s sleep and figured a run might help clear his head.
Why had John Zook come here anyway? Had he missed Naomi and figured he’d spend time here with her? Or was he going to try to convince her to go home with him early?
And why was he torturing himself wondering about this when Naomi was someone else’s?
It was just starting to get light out when he stepped outside. He ran his usual route, up and down the quiet streets. The Amish and Mennonite residents were early risers and were already stirring. People were sitting in lawn chairs, sipping coffee in the mild weather, stopping to chat, filing into local restaurants to eat breakfast.
As he passed Leah and Naomi’s rental house he saw Leah outside reaching for an orange in a tree, balancing herself on her crutches.
He stopped, walked up to her, and plucked the orange she was reaching for. He dropped the fruit into a plastic bowl sitting on the sidewalk near her.
“Guder mariye,” she said, smiling at him.
“You should let Naomi help you with this,” he chided as he pulled more fruit from the tree. “We don’t want you to have another accident.”
“I was managing just fine,” she said with a little tartness in her voice. “No need to worry.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Besides, she’s sleeping in a bit. She was up late last night what with John coming to town.”
“I gathered that Naomi was surprised. He was sitting on the steps when I brought her back from fishing yesterday.”
“Yes, it was a surprise.”
When he saw her frown, Nick had the answer to his unspoken question of how Leah felt about it.
“I think that should be enough,” she said, and he nodded and carried the bowl into the house for her.
If he had hopes of seeing Naomi come out of her room, he was disappointed.
“Would you like to come by for supper later, Nick?”
“Thanks, Leah, but I have plans,” he said.
He hated lying. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. He’d be finding someplace for dinner, then sitting around reading a book. Hardly big plans that couldn’t be changed.
But he didn’t want to sit and watch John with Naomi.
Waving a hand at Leah, he continued on his run. Just the thought of John here to see Naomi had him pounding the pavement for another street, then another and another.
“Practicing for a marathon?” Daniel called from the porch of his mother’s cottage.
Nick slowed, bent, and put his hands on his knees. His lungs ached.
“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll get you some water?”
When Nick hesitated, Daniel walked toward him and looked him in the eye. “Sit down before you fall down. Believe me, you can’t outrun your thoughts.”
Glancing behind him, Nick measured the distance back to his rented room and decided he wouldn’t make it if he didn’t take a break. He dropped into one of the lawn chairs and swiped at the sweat on his face with the back of his forearm.
“Thanks,” he said when Daniel returned with a chilled bottle of water. “I’m not trying to outrun anything.”
“Not even the local gator?” Daniel teased, grinning as he took his own seat.
“You heard about that, huh? Amish grapevine?”
Daniel shrugged. “Small town. Word gets around.” He sipped from a mug of coffee he’d brought out. “I don’t know this John Zook. He didn’t go to school with us.”
“Moved to Paradise last year.”
They sat there, silent, Daniel drinking his coffee, Nick gulping his water.
“So, how long have you been in love with Naomi?”
Nick choked on the water, half of it going down, half of it coming up through his nose and mouth. “What?”
Daniel merely continued to sip his coffee.
Then Nick’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, no,” he groaned. “Don’t tell me it’s that obvious.”
“To me,” Daniel said, and he set down his mug. “Takes one to know one.”
“You’re in love with Naomi, too?”
“No, not really. Well, years ago, maybe. I just know what it’s like to want someone and not be able to have her.”
Now Nick was even more depressed. But Daniel was right. It wasn’t just that John Zook was engaged to Naomi. She wasn’t a woman he could have ever had anyway—even if the charming Zook hadn’t come along. She was Amish and he was Englisch.
He’d never stood a chance with her.
When he finally roused from his little pity party, he glanced over at Daniel and saw that he sat there looking as if he had succumbed to an even bigger funk.
“We’re pretty pathetic.”
Daniel nodded. “I’d like to disagree with you but I think you’re right.” He rested his chin on his chest. Finally he sighed. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
“No. You?”
“No.”
Nick dragged himself out of his chair. “Give me half an hour to shower and change and I’ll meet you at Yoder’s.”
“Deal.”
“And bring your cash. You’re treating.”
“Me?” Daniel stared at him. “How do you figure?”
“I think I know someone I can introduce you to. I just saw one of my clients on vacation here. She’s single and about your age.”
Daniel grinned. “Now you’re talking.”
“You don’t seem happy to see me.”
John was a handsome man, but with the corners of his mouth turned down, he looked more like a sulking child.
Naomi hadn’t been happy to see him, but she didn’t realize it had been that obvious to him. “It was just a surprise, that’s all. And I don’t understand why you came. We were returning in a week.”
John leaned over and took her hand in his. “I told you. I missed you.” He smiled at her.
Naomi stared at him. There was something familiar about his smile.
“Your nose is peeling.”
Sighing, she nodded. Why did he need to state the obvious? “I was out in the sun a little too much when I first got here.”
Then she looked closer. “You look like you got a little sun, too. When did you get here?”
He touched his nose and winced a little. “I told you. Yesterday. I sat waiting for you quite a while yesterday.” He sounded aggrieved, as if she should have been waiting for him.
She knew that a bus from Lancaster County had come into Pinecraft yesterday, but she hadn’t gone with her grandmother and her friends to see who’d come. She and Nick had been on their infamous fishing expedition.
“Strawberry stuffed French toast for you,” the waitress who appeared said as she put the plate before Naomi. “And Amish scramble for you, sir,” she told John. “Anything else I can get you?”
“No, looks good,” John said, smiling up at her. “Danki—er, thank you.”
Naomi watched him dig in. A huge plate of stuffed French toast sat before her. Yes, she loved it and knew John knew that, too. But he’d actually ordered it for her without asking.
She was mad at herself for not speaking up and telling him that she was capable of ordering her own meal, but the restaurant was crowded and it wasn’t worth it to fuss. Not when they had bigger issues to settle.
“Eat,” he said as he dug in.
“I will.”
She concentrated on her cup of tea and watched him. The dish he’d ordered featured eggs and fried potatoes scrambled together and topped with cheese. Normally it looked good—she’d even had it once. Right now though she didn’t think she could eat anything. Her stomach felt too tense.
Something else was bothering her. She added more hot water to her cup and dunked a new tea bag in it. Something seemed off.
Then she realized what it was. John had ordered their breakfast without looking at the menu.
“Gut,” he said, nodding. He wiped his lips with his napkin and drained his cup of coffee befo
re returning his attention to the eggs.
“I want you to go home, John.”
“Why?” he asked. “Why don’t you want me here? We’re engaged to be married. Why don’t you want to spend time with me?”
“I came here to make sure my grandmother got to have a vacation. I owe her this, John. You know that.”
“We can do both,” he said persuasively. “I love you. I want to be with you. You can spend time with us both.”
She lifted her eyes and looked into his. “John, I want you to go home. I want you to go back to Pennsylvania.”
Looking down at her plate, she wondered how long it would take him to eat. She had no appetite—hadn’t had one since she’d come home to find him sitting on her doorstep. Maybe she could have her breakfast boxed up and take it home to her grandmother.
“Naomi, nice to see you.”
She glanced up and saw Daniel and Nick standing near the table. “Oh hi, Daniel. Nick.”
Turning to John, she said, “Daniel and I went to school together. He helped his parents sell their farm not long ago. And, of course, you know Nick.”
John stood and shook their hands and flashed a smile at them. And suddenly Naomi was reminded of that garfish that had scraped along her ankle yesterday when she was stuck in the creek mud.
“I have a table right over here for you,” the hostess said behind them.
“See you later,” Daniel said, and Nick nodded and followed him.
John sat again and thanked the waitress, who was pouring him more coffee. “So, which one of them is it?” he turned and asked Naomi. He smiled at her and acted like nothing was wrong.
But his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Which one of them have you been seeing?”
“Neither of them,” she told him quietly. “Not in the way you mean. You have no reason to be jealous. Daniel’s a childhood friend and Nick’s our driver.”
“Maybe I should stick around and see if you’re telling the truth.”
Temper rose up in her. How dare he accuse her of not being faithful to him. Deliberately she tamped down the temper, the righteous anger. She reminded herself that there were people all around—
Wait a minute. That night at the shuffleboard court she’d felt like someone was staring at her. Had he been here that night?
The Heart's Journey: Stitches in Time Series #2 Page 10