His arms locked and he looked hard into the startled Englishman’s golden eyes. He held him by the collar for what seemed endless minutes, motionless, Aiden limp and powerless in his grip. Daniel saw the deep iridescence of Aiden’s irises, the gentle rounding of his nose, the curl of his lips like rose petals….
He knew at that instant. Just like with Kyle that warm spring in the barn. Aiden did not have to say anything, like Kyle did not have to speak to reveal the feelings that had been fermenting between them for months. He retraced Aiden’s reaction to his story about him and Kyle. Daniel was sure he’d seen a flicker in those amber eyes when he’d told Aiden he and Kyle had kissed.
He knew. For the first time, Daniel knew. For sure.
Aiden was “one of those.”
The sensation was exhilarating, as if he were floating and yet had the weight of three Belgians pressing on his back. His nostrils flared, desperate for oxygen as he panted for breath.
He wanted to go. Turn and leave at once. But it was as if his thighs were strapped to the sofa.
A quake shook inside him. The tremor traveled from his toes inside his boots to the top of his bowl cut. He remembered that sensation. He had experienced it just before he had leaned in to kiss Kyle.
Daniel pulled Aiden nearer, his eyelids closing as he submitted to the same power that had lured his lips to meet Kyle’s.
Consequences from that one simple kiss streaked across Daniel’s muddled mind. He jerked up, as if awakening from a horrible dream, and loosened his hold on Aiden. His arms dropped lifeless to his sides.
Spotting his black felt hat where he’d left it on the dining table, he grabbed for it, upsetting the bouquet of wilted daisies in the glass vase. Turbid water spilled across the table and trickled over the edge.
He bolted for his buggy parked in the driveway. Disoriented and frightened, he was unable to untie Gertrude from the elm tree fast enough. He thought he heard Aiden calling for him as he fumbled in the darkness, struggling to untie Gertrude’s lead. Everything went fuzzy. Nothing seemed real as he climbed into the driver’s seat and unset the brake. Getting Gertrude to trot speed, he was rounding the corner before he realized he’d forgotten to switch on his LED lights. The driver of the Nissan Pathfinder failed to notice him in time.
Chapter 23
Two hours had passed since Daniel was brought into Decatur Memorial Hospital by ambulance. While Daniel went through the typical battery of tests, Aiden sat restless in the waiting room, paced the halls, drank coffee, and blamed himself for everything that had happened.
His mind churned with anxiety about how bad off Daniel might be. Things were horrible enough with the whole Kyle Yoder fiasco scattered at their feet. Now to have to face the possibility that Daniel might be critically injured. It was all too much to take.
He wished he had held Daniel back from rushing out his front door. Daniel had been so distraught. Too distraught to be driving. Everything had happened so fast. Aiden heard the sound of tires skidding and metal screeching while still standing on his front stoop, calling out Daniel’s name into the night. Frantic, he bolted down the darkened street, his imagination playing out the most horrific scenarios.
He found Daniel’s buggy overturned and an elderly man standing outside his SUV, shaken and confused. Rushing in to help, Aiden discovered Daniel inside the buggy, semiconscious and bleeding from his head. Aiden had his cell phone tucked in his jeans so he promptly called 911. He stayed by Daniel’s side until the paramedics and police arrived minutes later, then rushed back for his Aveo to tail the ambulance for the thirty-minute trip to Decatur.
The uninjured driver of the Pathfinder told Aiden and the investigators at the scene he had sideswiped Daniel’s buggy wheels just as Daniel’s safety flashers switched on. He said Daniel’s buggy emerged out of the darkness so unexpectedly, it was as if it had magically appeared before his eyes. The sixty-something-year-old driver could not stop in time. He had broadsided the wheels before he could react, forcing the buggy carriage to topple and the shaft to dislodge. Gertrude was found a half mile down the road, still dragging the shaft, startled but unharmed.
A weary-looking Rachel and Samuel hurried into the waiting room where Aiden sat wringing his hands. They looked around, appearing out of place as the Amish usually do when surrounded by modern English contraptions. Spotting Aiden, they hastened over. Concern marked their middle-aged faces.
They told Aiden they’d heard of Daniel’s accident from a Mennonite neighbor who often received emergency calls on their behalf. Joe Karpin had given them a ride. When Aiden had no information on Daniel’s injuries, they sat next to him, their heads low, mouths stiff.
With typical Amish composure, they asked how the accident had happened. Aiden told them what he could without mentioning the reason why Daniel had hurried from his house. They seemed understanding and nodded lethargically as they listened.
When the doctor appeared, they all rushed to their feet. With their eyes fixed on her, she told them Daniel had four bruised ribs and a pulled shoulder and had received sixteen stitches on his forehead. Other than that, there was nothing too serious. But the doctor wanted to keep Daniel forty-eight hours for observation. Injuries like Daniel’s, she warned, could worsen if he did not remain immobile for a few days.
The doctor escorted the three of them to Daniel’s room. Staring at him lying in the hospital bed with the IV stuck in his arm, Aiden thought he looked so fragile, so vulnerable. Above his right eye was a lengthy scar, painful looking with the fresh stitches. His right arm was in a sling, already loosened by the fidgety and stubborn Daniel. The bandage wrapped around his rib cage looked too fixed for him to mess with.
Neither could discuss what had happened that night with his parents hovering about his bed. Aiden yearned to reach out to him. To hold him. But it was impossible, not with Rachel and Samuel there. After a while, Rachel and Samuel insisted Aiden go home for sleep. He looked to Daniel for a reassurance. Daniel gave him a reserved nod. Aiden, forcing his arms by his sides, wished Daniel his best and left for home alone.
His mind rehashed over and over everything that had happened that night as he made the drive back to Henry.
Daniel had tried to kiss him.
Aiden had seen the change that came over Daniel’s face just before he had leaned in with his eyes closed. It was electrifying, yet, for some reason, frightening. He now saw Daniel for what he was. The gift of the bouquet, Daniel’s moodiness around him. Kyle had not been an anomaly. There was no longer any doubt.
Daniel Schrock was gay, and he had wanted to kiss Aiden.
Everything made sense then. Daniel’s coming by his house for so many visits. Sitting by his side watching TV. Going for lunch together whenever Daniel manned the furniture shop. Yes. Ever since that night they had searched for Mark together, he and Daniel had been courting, courting like any Amish couple. The bouquet had underlined what had been taking place between them the entire time.
But what about Tara?
She had been nothing but a ruse, a “beard.”
The realization sent shivers through Aiden’s body, as if his system had short-circuited. Elation lifted his heart into his throat. His head felt inflated with breath.
Yet all Daniel had to show for it was a stint in the hospital.
Energized, he visited Daniel the next morning. He brought along a baseball magazine and Rachel and Samuel too. He wanted to come alone, but had felt he should swing by the Schrocks to give them a lift. No doubt they would want to see their injured son.
Daniel was visibly edgy. Whenever Aiden tried to comfort him with words or gestures, Daniel fidgeted and looked away. When Rachel and Samuel left for coffee, he relished the opportunity to tell Daniel he loved him, but Daniel’s terseness deflected any chance for him to say anything, to get close at all. An hour passed when Aiden felt as if he were intruding. Rachel and Samuel said they would call Joe Karpin for a ride; they wanted to stay a while longer with their son. Aiden drove into work,
alone and confused.
It was at the Blade that afternoon when he first heard the rumors. Kevin strolled into the office from a dentist appointment and casually mentioned it, but Aiden did not want to believe it. A short time later he overheard some Amish on the street talking about it. Finally, at the IGA, the store manager happened to bring it up. The gossip worried Aiden enough that it prevented him from going back to the hospital to visit Daniel.
As the evening passed and the stories spread, Aiden had no doubt they were true. In a way, he’d seen it coming. He almost understood Daniel’s motives.
Difficult as it was, Aiden refrained from visiting Daniel the rest of that night. He worried Daniel would not welcome him. The next morning, though, he could no longer resist. He needed to speak to him, to see him, to hear for himself that the rumors were true. He almost brought Daniel a bouquet of flowers, but had stopped when he’d remembered how much trouble a bouquet had caused them.
“How do you feel?” he asked, standing just inside the doorway to Daniel’s hospital room. No one else was there, thank goodness; he had feared Tara might be there. He swept aside his guilt for not asking Rachel and Samuel if they wanted a ride to the hospital. This time, he needed to speak with Daniel alone.
“I’m doing better,” Daniel said. He appeared in good spirits, happy even to see Aiden. “I can’t wait to get out of here. I never spent so much time in a hospital before.”
“It’s good your community will be helping you pay for your bills,” he said, remembering when Joe Karpin had told him about how the Amish use proceeds from auctions and flea markets to help out those with medical expenses.
“Ya, they are good about that.”
“So is it true what I’ve been hearing?” Aiden wasted no time asking. He had little doubt about the rumors, yet he needed to hear from Daniel himself to be sure. He averted his eyes to let Daniel speak more freely. He peered at the two lumps where Daniel’s feet poked under the bed sheets.
“I figure you mean Tara and me?” Daniel said, his voice coarse and hollow-sounding. “Ya, it’s true. We’re to be married. Next June just before the oat binding.”
He was unprepared for the sharp sting of Daniel’s words. Although he’d known the rumors of Daniel’s proposing to Tara to be the truth, to hear it firsthand smarted like the poke of a needle. Yet in some ways, his sympathies for Daniel strengthened. The Amish world was much different from his. A person had fewer options living in a rigid community. Hundreds of years of tradition and staunch religious teachings could not be discarded so easily.
Nonetheless, he accepted partial responsibility for nudging Daniel down the path he had chosen to take with Tara. If not for his overzealous need to know the “truth” about Kyle Yoder’s death, Daniel would never have rushed from his bungalow, winding up in the hospital where he’d been so compelled to propose to Tara. Yet he supposed, one way or the other, Daniel eventually would have asked her to be his wife.
Rumor had it Daniel had proposed while Tara had sat by his bedside. According to the gossip, he’d asked for her hand in the characteristic, unembellished Amish manner: “We should marry.”
Word was Tara had at first hesitated, playing coy. She’d wanted to ensure Daniel’s intentions were sincere. But as everyone knew, Tara could hardly refuse something she’d wanted almost half her entire life.
Inhaling, Aiden squared his shoulders. He had to deal with the reality of the situation. Why sink into the fantasy of what could never be? One way or the other, he supposed a life with Daniel would’ve been impossible. Even if they lived in a society that completely accepted homosexuality, they still had too many differences to circumvent. They were from two different worlds.
“Congratulations are in order,” he said, looking fully into Daniel’s dark eyes with a tremulous smile.
“Danke,” Daniel murmured.
“I hope it all works out for you.” He adjusted the thin gold chain around his neck so that the clasp lay on his nape.
“It’s for the best,” Daniel said. “For all of us. There’s been too much chaos, too much confusion. You understand, don’t you? You’re too smart not to.”
“Sure, I understand.”
A flashback of Daniel nearly kissing him rolled across his mind. He still felt Daniel’s breath on his face. Raw, with a faint smell of root beer. His fierce dark eyes, burning with passion, penetrating him as he clutched onto his hoody. His beard so close he could feel the bristles like the scratch of an oat sheaf.
No use thinking about any of that now.
“Well,” Aiden said, shaking himself back to the present, “I decided to drop that whole Kyle Yoder investigation. It’s not worth it, I guess. I was in over my head anyway, I didn’t really know what I was doing. Sorry I caused you so much trouble.”
“You didn’t cause me any trouble. It’s not your fault, you know how small towns are. But I’m glad you’re not going to investigate anymore, I didn’t think you would.”
Aiden considered something that had haunted him for some time. With Daniel helpless in bed, with no chance of he and Daniel ever being lovers, he decided to reveal what he had known for many months, since June. After everything that had happened between them there were no longer any personal barriers. Not really. He took a few steps closer to Daniel. Tilting his head, he said, “I’ve always wanted to say how sorry I am for your losses. For Esther and Zachariah.”
Daniel flushed above his moustacheless beard. He turned away and seemed to quiver. “I figured you might know about that,” he said, looking back Aiden’s way. “Thanks for your kind words.”
“I can’t imagine how horrible that must’ve been for you. Losing a wife and baby in a tornado. I just always wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Daniel lowered his head. “God has plans for us, I figure. He knows what He’s doing.”
Aiden caught the shame in Daniel’s eyes, and dismissed his labored mentioning of God’s will. “You don’t blame yourself for their deaths, too, do you, Daniel?”
“If I hadn’t made so many wrong choices, a lot of people would never got hurt.”
“Daniel, you didn’t cause Kyle’s death, and you certainly didn’t conjure up that tornado—”
“Aiden, please, let’s not talk about this, not here.”
Silent a moment, Aiden stared down at the tiled floor. When Daniel remained quiet, he checked his wristwatch. He supposed there was little else to say. With a tight grin, he said he had to go. Chortling, he added, “I have to interview some man about his 250-pound pumpkin.”
Daniel shared Aiden’s chuckle, perhaps understanding small town frivolities as well as anyone.
“I guess I’ll see you then,” Aiden said. “Hope you feel better.” He turned to leave. Daniel called out to him before he reached the door. Aiden looked back at him, hopeful.
“Yes?”
“Thanks for keeping my secret.”
Aiden shrugged, the sides of his mouth heavy. “What’re friends for?”
“No hard feelings?”
“Sure…. No hard feelings.”
He rushed out of the room before the hot tears spilled from his eyes. Darting out of the elevator, he almost knocked into Samuel in the lobby. Face to face, they stood speechless.
Aiden cleared his throat and held back his tears. “I was just coming from seeing Daniel,” he said, flushing like a thief who had just been caught fleeing from the scene of a crime. He looked down so that Samuel could not see his reddened cheeks and eyes. “He’s doing better. He looks good.”
“We hope to be taking him home today,” Samuel said, fidgeting with his black felt hat in his brown hands. “Just in time for Thanksgiving.”
Aiden glanced up and noted Samuel’s expression lacked the normal joviality. Perhaps the stress from another near tragedy had left its stain. “That’ll be nice.”
“We’re grateful his injuries are minor. God has spared us.”
“Yeah, it could’ve been worse,” Aiden said, his tone hushed. “Lucky he wa
s broadsided and not hit from the back. That SUV could’ve done some real damage.”
“You told us the other night he was driving home from your house, ya?”
Aiden hesitated. “Yes, that’s the case.”
“We had thought he was with Tara at her family’s farm.”
“Well, he was supposed to go there from my house, but I guess he lost track of time.”
“I’m surprised Daniel forgot to use his lights. He can sometimes drive the horses too fast, but he’s very cautious otherwise. We even tease him about being too safety conscious. We’re surprised he was so careless.”
Between Two Worlds Page 20