Shelter in the Storm

by Laurel Blount

  The question was how she’d get there without making a big—and hopefully unnecessary—fuss. A trip so far out of town would require an Englisch driver. That cost money, and it would probably take all the cash she had just to pay for the doctor’s visit. Besides, the reliable drivers around here were shared by all the families, and word of her errand would certainly leak out. She’d rather keep this quiet.

  Naomi’s mind lit on the card Eric had given her, tucked carefully away in a keepsake box back at Katie’s. She’d been on pins and needles after the pie incident, but Joseph had never mentioned it, and she’d not had to explain. If the other reporters were back in town, likely Eric was here, too. If he was, he would drive her to her appointment if she asked him. She was sure of that.

  She resumed her walk across the yard with a purposeful step. Tomorrow she would take Eric’s card and the cardiologist’s number down to the phone shack on the other side of Katie’s house and make the necessary calls.

  Likely, she was worrying over nothing, but before the wedding plans went any further, she’d best find out for certain.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Joseph impatiently brushed aside the curtain on the kitchen window and peered at the still-dark road. No sign of Naomi, not yet. She and Aaron were running late this morning.

  He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was well past time for milking, but Daisy would have to wait a little longer. He wasn’t going out to the barn until he’d talked with Naomi.

  Thanks to his interfering onkel, Joseph had some apologizing to do. Barely a week had passed by since he’d let Emma know of his plans to marry Naomi, and already Melvin was causing trouble.

  Joseph glanced at the crumpled paper in his hand, and the anger he’d been battling since last night rose like bile in the back of his throat. The letter had been in the mailbox yesterday morning, but Joseph hadn’t gotten around to opening it until after Naomi had gone home. By the time he’d reached the final sentence, he’d been mad at both Melvin and at himself.

  He should have seen this coming. He would’ve if he’d been thinking straight.

  Truth was, he’d been featherheaded for days, ever since Naomi’s pretty eyes had lit up when he’d talked about finding them a house in Ohio. Then, when he’d made that offhand remark about the kinder he hoped Gott would bless them with, she’d blushed just the color of those pink roses that tumbled over the back pasture fence at the beginning of every June.

  Ja, that blush had pretty much finished him off. He hadn’t been able to think straight since. And now, Melvin had ruined everything.

  He smoothed the letter and read it for the dozenth time. Phrases written in his uncle’s spidery hand leapt out at him, each one worse than the last.

  Emma has told me of your plans to marry the sickly maidel.

  Poor choice for a fraw.

  Disgraceful hurry.

  The look of wrongdoing.

  Only one reason couples marry in such haste.

  Shame. Foolishness.

  And finally, the sentence that had struck a chill right down to the marrow of his bones:

  I have written to this girl as well, in your father’s place.

  He recrumpled the paper and prayed for the hundredth time that Naomi’s letter had been delayed, so that he could warn her of this ahead of time.

  He lifted his head and looked sharply toward the window, listening. Ja, that was the clop of hooves and the jingle of harness. Aaron’s buggy was coming to a stop in the yard.

  He moved to stand just inside the door, waiting impatiently. He heard Naomi’s soft voice, and the deep rumble of Aaron’s reply. No doubt she was thanking him for the ride, even though it was a daily routine for them now. Naomi was always careful to thank a fellow for anything he did for her, no matter how small it might be or how often he did it.

  Just as he heard Aaron’s sharp urge to his horse, the doorknob turned, and Naomi pushed open the door. She gasped, her clear, gray-green eyes widening as she saw him standing so close.

  “My, you startled me, Joseph! I never expected to see you in the house. I’d thought you’d be in the barn by now.” She began to untie her black bonnet, her pale brows drawn together in concern. “Is something wrong?”

  That’s exactly what he wanted her to tell him. He searched her face before he answered, looking for trouble. He saw none. Naomi only looked flummoxed by being pounced on. Other than that, she seemed perfectly normal.

  His muscles relaxed in a rush of sweet relief. Gott had answered his prayers. She’d not received Melvin’s letter yet. Now, if he could convince her to hand it over to him unread, he’d burn the awful thing to ashes.

  Naomi’s frown deepened, and she glanced past him toward the stairs. “Is Miriam all right?”

  “Ja, she is still sleeping, I think. There is nothing wrong. Except—” He broke off. How exactly was he going to explain this?

  “Except what?”

  He drew in a deep breath. “I must ask you to do me a kindness, Naomi. And I will not be able to explain very well why I am asking you for it.”

  She was watching him closely. A tiny smile tickled over her lips, but she nodded seriously. “I will do any kindness you ask of me, Joseph, if I can. What is it?”

  “Soon you’ll be receiving a letter from my uncle in Ohio. I would ask you to give it to me without reading it. Will you do that?”

  Naomi had turned to hang her shawl and bonnet on the pegs beside the door. He saw her hands falter. “You don’t wish for me to read this letter? Why not?”

  He couldn’t explain, not in any way that wouldn’t make things worse. “All I can tell you is that I think it’s necessary that you give it to me unopened.” She still had her back to him. She was fussing over hanging her shawl just right, so he couldn’t judge her expression. “I ask you to trust me in this, Naomi,” he added desperately. “Please.”

  She finally got the shawl draped properly and turned to face him. “I do trust you, Joseph,” she said quietly, “but I’m afraid I cannot do what you are asking. Melvin’s letter arrived yesterday, and I have already read it.”

  His heart crashed to his boots, and for the first time in his life, he nearly said one of those words Caleb used to mutter whenever one of the cows slashed him in the face with a mucky tail.

  “Ach, Naomi. I’m sorry. I truly am. I can guess what it said because I’ve had a letter from him myself. Melvin’s troubles have made him a sour, suspicious old man. You mustn’t pay any heed to what he wrote.”

  “Perhaps your uncle could have been kinder, but he’s right, Joseph. I mean”—a little flush crept up her neck to stain her cheeks—“not about everything, of course. He’s not wrong, though, that some people might think and say things if we marry so quick.”

  And that was another thing he hadn’t even thought of, until Melvin had pointed it out. “Does that bother you? That people may talk?”

  “Nee, not really. That’s the kind of truth that cannot be hidden for long, ain’t so? People will know soon enough. If they want to make themselves look foolish gossiping about us beforehand, it’s of no concern to me.”

  He couldn’t keep his lips from curving up into a grin. “Gut. And I hope you will forgive my uncle. I’m going to speak to him about this. It won’t happen again.” It wouldn’t. Joseph would see to it.

  “Maybe Melvin could have chosen his words better, but in his way, I think he was trying to look out for you as a father would.” Naomi tilted her head, considering him like a worried sparrow. “And he’s right about another thing, too, you know. You could find yourself a better wife than I, Joseph, easily enough. A prettier, smarter girl that you”—she paused delicately—“could have more feelings for than just friendship. Me, I don’t have so many choices, so this decision is easier for me. But you . . . well. This hard season will not last forever, though it may seem so just now. M
arriage is for life. I wouldn’t want you to have regrets.”

  Melvin’s letter must have been worse than he’d thought. Joseph was not a violent man, but at that moment, he could have cheerfully wrung his uncle’s stringy neck. “I’m not going to have any regrets about marrying you, Naomi. You’re the most—” Footsteps sounded on the staircase, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Miriam coming slowly down. She smiled shyly at the two of them.

  “I’m sorry. I hope I am not interrupting anything.”

  Joseph fell awkwardly silent, and his sister shot him a teasing glance. He was torn between being grateful to see that familiar expression on her face and feeling acutely embarrassed.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d been going to tell Naomi after what she’d said about him finding a “smarter, prettier girl” but he knew it wasn’t something he’d have wanted his sister to overhear.

  “Not at all,” Naomi reassured Miriam. “I was just about to tell your bruder that I need to leave at lunchtime tomorrow. I have some business to attend to in Knoxville in the afternoon.”

  She reached above the stove to pull a skillet out of the cupboard. “I can have scrambled eggs ready right quick if you’d rather eat before going out to the barn, Joseph.”

  Joseph frowned, distracted from his concerns about his uncle’s letter. There was something odd about the way Naomi had skipped so lightly over that thing about going into town. “What kind of personal business? Is Katie going with you?”

  “Joseph!” Miriam scolded as she went to the small gas refrigerator to retrieve the eggs. “You mustn’t ask too many questions. Maybe Naomi has things she must see to before the wedding.” His sister smiled at Naomi as she handed her the bowl of brown eggs. “I wish I could go with you, Naomi. But I . . .” Miriam shivered and shook her head sadly.

  “That is all right.” Naomi smiled warmly at Miriam. “Get the butter for me, too, would you, please?”

  When Miriam turned away, Naomi glanced at Joseph. When their eyes met, her expression became serious. “It’s just something I need to tend to, Joseph, that’s all.” A smile quivered over her lips, and she dropped her voice to add, “I ask you to trust me in this.”

  He still would have liked to know what errand was taking her all the way to Knoxville and how she planned to get there. However, there was little a man could do when he’d just had his own words thrown back in his face.

  He nodded reluctantly. “All right, then. Do as it suits you.” He shot a cautious look in Miriam’s direction. “That letter we were speaking of? I’d like to read it, if you wouldn’t mind.” No matter what Naomi said about Melvin’s intentions, Joseph planned to take his uncle to task, and he wanted to be sure he had his facts straight when he did.

  Naomi lifted her eyebrows as she dropped a thick pat of homemade butter into the heating skillet, but she nodded. “I’ll bring it with me tomorrow morning.”

  Miriam halted beside the table, three plates stacked in her hands. Her eyes darted between Joseph and Naomi. “What letter?”

  “Who just scolded me for asking questions about private things?” Joseph lifted an eyebrow.

  His sister’s shoulders relaxed. She wrinkled her nose at him as she’d done back when she was a little girl, and she began setting the breakfast table.

  “Best take up my plate, Miriam. I’ve got to get out to the barn. Daisy will be tired of waiting on me to do the milking, for certain.”

  Naomi nodded. “I’ll put your breakfast in the oven to keep warm, and I’ll have the kaffe hot when you come back with the milk. There’s a chill today.”

  “Denki,” he said quietly. “We’ll talk soon again, Naomi.” She glanced up from the eggs she was cracking and gave him another little smile.

  Once outside, he trudged across the frost-crisped yard toward the barn. Naomi was right. It was sharp today. Or maybe he was just missing the gentle warmth of the kitchen.

  He halted, the steel milk pail swinging from his gloved hand and turned to look at the house behind him. Naomi was framed in the glowing kitchen window, frowning slightly, intent on the eggs she was scrambling. Joseph’s sore heart turned over ponderously, like an old dog stretching aching bones in the heat of the sun.

  She used to frown at him like that when they were youngies and he’d drop behind to walk with her after her brothers had leapt ahead. She’d urge him to go ahead, not to miss his fun because of her. She’d told him over and over that she didn’t mind walking alone.

  Maybe she hadn’t minded, but he had minded for her. She was a nice girl, and he’d always thought she’d deserved better treatment. Now he knew for certain sure she did. There was no “sweeter, prettier, smarter girl,” not for Joseph, but he could hardly blame Naomi for thinking that way, given how he’d behaved.

  Naomi Schrock deserved the best any fellow could give her, especially one hoping to be her husband. But what had Joseph offered? A blurted-out proposal, with no soft words, no little sweetnesses.

  He’d no excuse for that. He had two sisters, and he knew well enough what such things meant to girls. He was no better than Naomi’s thoughtless brothers, no better than Melvin himself, to ask so much while treating her so carelessly in return.

  She was a wonderful girl, Naomi was. The best kind of girl. She should have had it all, the moonlit drives, the quiet, shy talks, the little sweets or gifts a fellow offered when he was trying to woo a sweetheart.

  He’d given her none of that, just a bald-faced offer of marriage and a quick, embarrassing wedding.

  Joseph watched for another second or two, until Naomi took the skillet off the heat and moved out of the window’s frame.

  Then he blinked. He was cold to the bone, and his heart was pounding hard in a combination of shame and determination.

  He’d made a muddle of this, but maybe he could still set things right. He’d think it through while he finished the chores. He’d always found it easier to think out in the barn.

  Hopefully he’d come up with some ideas. If he planned to court Naomi Schrock before she became his wife, he was running out of time.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next afternoon, Naomi buckled herself into the passenger seat of Eric’s tiny car, hoping the forecasted snow held off until she was safely back home again. She was trying not to be nervous, but this felt very different from the minivans and trucks she’d ridden in before. The seats in those vehicles were higher up, much like riding in a buggy. This car was so low-slung, she might as well be sitting on the road itself.

  Still, beggars shouldn’t be choosers. “Thank you very much for driving me.”

  “You’re welcome. So we’ve got about forty-five minutes to kill, according to my GPS,” Eric said as he pulled onto the highway. “Why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”

  “I told you already. I have a doctor’s appointment.”

  “That’s all you told me.” He gave her a quick, sideways glance. “I’m not trying to be nosy. It’s just . . . I’m a little worried. Is something wrong, Naomi?”

  She sure hoped not. She offered him a smile. “That’s what people go to doctors’ offices to find out, ain’t so?”

  “Are you having symptoms? You must be, or you wouldn’t have made the appointment in the first place.” Eric drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for a buggy to take its turn at the four-way stop. “I’m sorry, Naomi. Cassidy and I were so happy that you got better, you know? That you had a chance for a normal life like you always wanted.”

  The past tenses Eric was using made her stomach clench, reminding her that his sister hadn’t been blessed with the same chance. Maybe she should have chosen somebody else to drive her for this errand, but Eric had seemed the simplest choice. She’d never considered the painful memories her situation might bring up in him. She’d been focused only on herself.

  “This appointment is just a precaution,” she
reassured him gently. “I’m not having any of the symptoms I had before.” She wasn’t. That much was true. She was having new ones, but Eric didn’t need to know that.

  He gave her a suspicious look as they turned on to the four-lane highway heading out of Johns Mill toward Knoxville. “I don’t understand, then. What’s going on, Naomi? I’d like to help if I can.”

  “You are already helping by driving me to the appointment. And you must let me pay for your fuel.” She’d brought all the cash she had, and she prayed that it would be enough to cover both Eric’s gas and the cost of the doctor’s visit. Before she’d left Kentucky, her doctor had said this particular cardiologist was accustomed to seeing Amish patients. Hopefully he would have some sort of reduced fee schedule for folks without insurance.

  “You’re not paying me a cent. I’m happy you asked me.” He gave her a rueful grin. “I kinda miss having a kid sister to look after, you know? But I still don’t think you’re being straight with me. This feels like a rush appointment, and you’ve told me at least six times not to mention it to anybody. What’s with that?”

  Naomi glanced at the dashboard clock. They’d been in the car a grand total of eight minutes. She’d best go ahead and give Eric a piece of the truth. Maybe then he’d quit probing.

  She tightened her interlaced fingers and forced herself to speak brightly. “Well, the truth is, I’m getting married.”

  “What?” Eric braked so hard, they both jolted against their seat belts. Muttering under his breath, he flipped on the blinker and moved the car onto the shoulder of the highway. Horns blared as other vehicles whizzed by, but he ignored them. He shoved the car in park and twisted to face Naomi. “You’re getting married?”

  “That’s right.” She craned her neck to look behind them. “Are you supposed to be stopped here, Eric? The other drivers seem upset.”

  “Never mind them. You’re serious?”