Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel (17 page)

She gave the tiniest nod, and Samuel wheeled about, rising to his feet in a low crouch. He’d left his stake, his only weapon, inside.
What
a
fool
he
was.
Every muscle tensed, ready for action. He would fight to keep Naomi safe. No matter the cost—even if it was his life.

“Aren’t you going to kiss the girl?” a voice came out of the dark.

Samuel recognized the voice as Joe’s. He straightened. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ll wait,” came another voice, this time Chris spoke from behind a tree, his blond hair showing in the moonlight.

“It was Harry who gave us away,” complained Pete.

“Samuel?” Naomi asked from behind him, her voice tremulous. “What’s going on?”

“A little shenanigan, I’m afraid.” Samuel straightened and descended the two steps. Turning in a circle, he said, “What are you all doing here?”

“The five-minute rule,” Joe replied. “Answer our text next time.”

“Okay, well, you’ve had your little fun. Go on now.” He held out a hand to Naomi. “I should be getting you home.”

“Ah, come on and kiss the girl first.” Pete chuckled.

Naomi picked up the plate of fried pies. “I’ll take these inside.”

Samuel sent a scowl to those hidden around him. “You can go away now.”

“I think he needs help,” Joe said, humor lacing his deep voice. “Want me to show you how to kiss a girl?”

“I can manage fine.”

“So that was your intention, eh?” Harry had the last laugh.

Samuel glared at the team.

***

The early spring night had turned chilly, but Naomi had no doubt she’d stay warm. Her heart still beat lickety-split as it had when Samuel almost kissed her.

She stepped out onto the porch, eyeing the shadows and darkness. “Did your friends leave?”

Samuel waited for her at the bottom of the steps. “Yes.”

She smiled to herself and felt a glowing warmth deep inside. She headed toward the road, but he angled away from her and stopped.

“We don’t have to walk,” he offered, gesturing toward his motorbike near the shagbark tree. It made her stomach tangle into knots. Or was riding with him, her body nestled against his, what made her nervous?

“I prefer to keep my two feet on solid ground if you don’t mind.”

He laughed but not in a condescending way. He didn’t argue with her or even hesitate before he redirected his footsteps. Together, they walked toward the road at the end of Levi and Hannah’s drive. It was about a mile to her parents’ farm.

“What was all of that about?” she asked. “Who were those men?” She hadn’t recognized their voices. They certainly hadn’t sounded Amish or spoken Pennsylvania Dutch. Samuel’s reactions had not exactly been friendly. “You looked like you were ready to fight them.”

“Not them.”

“Then who?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He turned and walked backward, making full eye contact with her. “But I would have defended you. Do you know that?”

“From what?” She blinked, not understanding. She wished she could recapture the moment they’d shared together, but it seemed to have evaporated. She wrapped her arms across her middle against the cool night air.

“Are you cold?” Samuel asked.

The deepness of his tone rattled something inside her. She picked up the pace. “I’m fine. A brisk walk will set me right.”

He shrugged out of his coat and laid it over her shoulders. “Here. This will help.”

His warmth embraced her and yet made her insides quiver uncertainly. Her feelings toward Samuel baffled her. He seemed both Amish and
English
, which both intrigued and frightened her.

When she was younger, she had been drawn to him. She’d sympathized with the trouble he’d experienced in his family and wept for him and his family when his older brother Jacob died. Her oldest sister had been rebellious at one time, and her family had prayed for her over several tumultuous years until Lizzie had returned to the fold. It had been a day of rejoicing for her family, and yet Naomi had understood how close they had come to losing her, especially as the Fishers experienced such a terrible loss. Now, the Fishers were scattered between Ohio and Pennsylvania with Samuel not knowing where he belonged, even planting a foot in both Amish and
English
worlds. “You are different, Samuel.”

“How so?”

“You don’t always act Amish.”

He released a breath. “I don’t want to
act
any certain way. At one time, my life seemed laid out…almost easy. But things happened and changed me. I can’t explain…”

“You don’t have to.”

His hand brushed hers, and he linked his little finger with hers. “One thing you should know, Naomi, I’ve learned some things are worth fighting for. Not very Amish of me, I reckon. Maybe if we’d fought for Jacob he’d still be here.”

He wasn’t speaking from pride or bitterness but from deep conviction. Even though she should have been, in many ways, shocked by his statement, she wasn’t. In fact, his revelation moved her deeply. Awareness of the delicate link between them made her nervous. She’d never kissed a man, never felt this way about one either. It made her want to both run away and stay at the same time. She hoped she had the courage to stay.

Silence stretched between them and unnerved her.
What
was
Samuel
thinking…or wanting?
She attempted to draw him into conversation with, “It’s a nice evening.”

Samuel studied the night sky. “A storm is coming.”

A gauzy swath of clouds hovered in the endless sky, but they appeared harmless. Still, she felt a similar turbulence inside her. “Maybe we should have taken your motorbike. I was being selfish. Do you want to go back?”

“I’ve walked in the rain before. I don’t usually melt.”

She smiled shyly. “Me either.”

A soft spring breeze accompanied them, along with the sound of a bullfrog. She felt a surprising sense of peace and was grateful she didn’t feel as if she had to say something just to fill up the emptiness. Young men often made her nervous and also seemed ill at ease. But Samuel seemed different. Even though he had confessed he wasn’t sure about his future—and who really could be?—he had a self-assuredness and confidence that belied his years.

“Sunday services are this week,” he said.

“Yes. Are you going?”

“It’s been a long time since I was here in the district.”

“I’m sure you would be welcome.” She offered him a reassuring smile. There had been much talk after Jacob’s death, especially after the Fisher family up and moved so quickly. Samuel returning to Promise had stirred up some of that idle talk, which she hoped he hadn’t heard. “Many in the district will be happy to see you again.”

He walked several steps before asking, “What about Sunday singing? Will there be any?”

“There always is.” Her insides jumped with enthusiasm.

“What if I asked you to go with me?”

Her cheeks grew warm, and she was grateful for the darkness. “Are you?”

“Yes.” He took hold of her whole hand. “Do you mind?”

Even as her skin burned, her gaze remained steady, not looking away, not searching for an excuse. “I’d like that, Samuel.” She savored the taste of his name. “
Danke
.”

He gave a succinct nod of agreement. A smile bloomed inside her. It was the Amish way, not to court with fanfare but quietly, and yet she wished everyone in Promise knew that Samuel Fisher was courting her.
Her!
Plain ol’ Naomi Wagler. Naomi and Samuel. Words spun around her head along with all the possibilities this could bring. She felt like she might burst with happiness.

They reached the drive leading to her parents when a light drizzle began. The rain felt cool and refreshing. Neither of them hurried their steps. It felt as if they both wanted to draw out this moment together. But they eventually reached her parents’ two-story home, the windows dark, the side door unlocked, as usual.

“Naomi”—Samuel came to a stop and captured her elbow in his light grasp—“about earlier…when we were interrupted—”

“It’s all right.”

“I hope you weren’t frightened.”

“Not with you there.” Her heart pounded at his touch and concern.

He took a step toward her. The drizzle continued, and his shirt looked damp and clung to his skin. Inside his coat, she felt protected. Still, he didn’t rush and neither of them moved. A fluttering erupted in her stomach. A surge of blood rushed to her head. She felt off kilter. But Samuel’s hand steadied her. He cupped her jaw, tilted her chin toward him, and his mouth closed slowly, sweetly, delicately on hers.

The kiss was unhurried. They stood inches apart yet deeply connected. She felt drawn to him in ways she could not understand. She never wanted the moment to end, but it did. When he pulled away, his breath still warm on her mouth, her heart throbbing, he touched her bottom lip and a half smile curled his.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He backed away, releasing her. She shrugged out of his coat and handed it to him. As she turned for the house, she felt a lightness to her step, and she had to restrain herself from skipping, running, exulting.

When she crawled into bed several minutes later, she took her notebook, pen in hand, and began to write, the words flowing from her like water along a brook.

Silent, Jacob stood, arms crossed over his chest, and watched Samuel. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like anything.” Remiel sharpened his giant sword.

Jacob shook his head at his younger brother, who was pining over some young woman. Even though she was Amish, and probably better for him than that loose woman, the situation concerned him. “He needs to focus. He needs to—”

“And what were you doing at his age?”

A frown formed on Jacob’s brow along with a knot in his stomach. “Much as he is…searching…chasing after women.”

“It’s what young men do.” Remiel slid a stone along the sleek blade, and it made a grating sound. “Since the beginning.”

“As in…
In
the
beginning
?”

“What else?”

Jacob watched Samuel, who stared up at a light-shrouded window. “Hasn’t gotten us very far, has it? Look where it took me.”

“Not every young man ends up the way you did, Jacob.”

“But he’s playing with fire. If he’s going to fight Brydon, then he has to focus. Or get burned. This isn’t some little game. Brydon isn’t coming here just for Roc. He’s coming here to take out his revenge on me. Against my family.”

“Why don’t you tell your brother?”

“If I could!” Jacob’s voice rang out and yet couldn’t cross the invisible barricade between this side of life and where his brother lived.

Remiel focused on his blade. “Don’t complain to me.”

“Am I supposed to pray now?”

“You can. But not to me.”

“And will prayers help? Will God call down ten thousand angels on my behalf?”

“I don’t know.”

Exasperated, Jacob asked, “What do you know?”

Remiel stroked the sword, honing the blade, polishing the steel. “
Though
I
speak
with
tongues
of
men
and
of
angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal
.”

What
but
love
had
brought
him
here?
Jacob shoved his fingers through his hair.
How
was
he
to
get
through
to
Samuel? How?
Stalking toward his younger brother, he inched close to him and whispered, “Samuel.”

His brother’s chin jerked up and he looked over his shoulder. After a moment, he shook his head and turned away from the darkened house, walking back toward the narrow-lane road.

“Did he hear me?” Jacob asked. “Do you think—”

“Are you talking to me?” Remiel asked.

Shooting the angel a disgruntled look, Jacob caught up with Samuel, walked alongside him. “Samuel,” he whispered, “what are you doing? Roc needs you. Focus on your training.”

His brother rubbed at his shoulder, rolling it forward as if testing it for soreness. He was damp from the light drizzle. Tilting his head to one side, then the other, he began to jog in a steady rhythm.

“That’s it.” Jacob kept pace and urged him on. “You need to train. You must train. You have to be strong. It’s the only way.”

But
was
his
brother
really
listening?

You must be feeling better,” Samuel said at the sight of Levi coming into the barn.

“Stronger,
ja
.” Levi started to lift a pail of feed but pressed his arm against his rib cage in obvious pain.

Samuel took the pail. “But not well yet.”

“
The
way
of
the
slothful
man
is
as
an
hedge
of
thorns: but the way of the righteous is made plain
.”

Samuel grinned. “I’ve heard Mamm say that a thousand times in my lifetime, but I don’t think she would call you lazy for resting when you’re injured.”

“I’m better.”

Samuel carried the pail into the second stall and set it down. The gelding clopped over to his feed and stuck his nose in the bucket and began chomping on the grains. “So are you telling me its time for me to go?”

“Go?” Levi’s brow knotted.

“Hannah told me the bishop came to see you last night. I don’t want to cause you trouble, Levi.”

“I’m glad to have you here, Samuel. I’m grateful for your help. You can stay as long as you like.” Levi placed a hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “You and I were separated for several years. Sometimes I wonder if it was a mistake that I didn’t go with all of you to Ohio.”

“And yet, what would have happened here if you had?” Samuel asked.

Levi studied the ground at his feet. “You’ve been learning much over at Roc’s.”

“Is that bad?”

“Regrettable—and also necessary. I’m glad there are no longer secrets between us.”

“Me too.”

Levi drew a deep breath, wincing only slightly as his chest expanded. “With that knowledge comes responsibility. You will have to make a decision. If you want to live like our father…or like me…or even—”

“Like Roc,” Samuel supplied, knowing his brother spoke the truth.

The words hung between them like an anchoring weight.

“What about the bishop?” Samuel asked. “What did he want?”

“It’s not your concern. It is in the good Lord’s hands.”