by Beth Wiseman
“That would be hard—to see something like that happen to a friend, especially at that age.” Carley’s parents had never laid a hand on her. She couldn’t imagine. And this didn’t sound like a bitter explosion on Noah’s part. To Carley, it seemed like a childhood memory he needed somebody to hear.
Today she’d seen a vulnerable side of him. He was flawed yet admirable, his pushiness fueled by his own desire to right his wrongs.
“The next morning, church service was at a neighbor’s house. Jake Lapp’s voice seemed to rise above everyone else’s as he sang ‘Amazing Grace.’ Johnny never looked at me or Samuel once. And Samuel and I vowed to never talk of it or tell anyone. For whatever reason,” he said, pausing, “I shared it with the world, making all the Amish look like child abusers, and that is so far from the truth. These people are the most peaceful people in the world. I made them look ugly by highlighting that one rare incident.” His face twisted in painful recollection.
“Noah, clearly what you saw had a profound effect on you.”
“I should have kept that particular story to myself. I also probably could have left out the one about Mamm causing a small grease fire in the kitchen one day, or the one about Mary Ellen questioning where babies come from. But, Carley—”
The passion in his tone pulled her upright.
“I told some beautiful stories in the book. Tales I’m proud to have been a part of. But my bitterness was intertwined with the good stuff. And my family—this community in general—is so private. What I did was inexcusable.”
“Noah,” she said softly, “we don’t have to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to.” If he was trying to pull at her heartstrings to get her to talk to Samuel, it was working. “I understand you’re sorry for writing the book. I guess I’m wondering how you think I can soften this situation with Samuel. I don’t know if I can do that. It sounds like he’s been bitter about this for a long time. He didn’t even tell his wife about the book. Or about you.”
“He probably doesn’t want her to read it. There are things in there I wouldn’t want my wife to read.”
Interesting. Carley wondered if he’d ever had a wife. “Have you ever been married?”
Noah looked nonplussed at the abrupt change in topic. “No. What about you?”
“Nope. Never married.” She thought about Dalton and how they had been moving in that direction.
“How has someone as beautiful as you averted marriage all these years?” His tone was so sincere, her heart fluttered.
“Thank you for the compliment, but it’s not like I’m that old,” she said sheepishly. “Anyway, I know you’re hoping I can help you with Samuel, but I don’t see how.”
“Maybe you can just talk to Lillian. She didn’t grow up Amish. Maybe she won’t be as staunch in her views.” Shifting his position in the grass next to her, Noah turned to face her. “I left Lancaster County to do my residency in Minnesota because I needed to get away from here. I thought some distance would be good. But there was no place far enough to run from the demons in my head. So I came back.”
Carley was touched by Noah’s emotion about his circumstances, but was it appropriate for her to try to sway Samuel via Lillian?
“Noah, I can see your regret. I can hear it in your voice. Naturally, you miss your family, but Lillian is my friend, and I don’t want to abuse her hospitality by butting my nose in where it doesn’t belong. Why don’t you just tell Samuel all this? Maybe you don’t need a liaison.”
“Samuel wouldn’t give me the time of day about this,” he said with a sigh. “But, Carley—absolutely do not say anything that might put a strain on your friendship with Lillian.” He shifted his weight and then plucked a blade of grass. “You know what? Never mind. You’re right. I should talk to Samuel myself.”
Is he getting a little edgy with me? “Are you getting mad at me?”
He looked up in surprise. “No. Not at all. I was just sitting here thinking how wimpy I must sound not to fight my own battles.”
Carley read between the lines. It wasn’t edginess; it was fear—Noah’s fear that his brother would reject him again. “Noah, I still think you should consider going to the mud sale. Test the waters. All of your family will be there.”
“They’ll know you told me about it,” he said. “They might not be too happy with you.”
“I can live with that. And in the meantime, I’ll just feel Lillian out about things.”
Noah’s expression took on a look of triumph, and it became clear there had been only one purpose to this day: despite Noah’s charm and his heartfelt confessions, it seemed fairly obvious he’d been using her to get to Lillian. It was hard not to feel a level of disappointment. And, truth be told, a tinge of frustration.
But no sooner had the thought presented itself than Noah lifted his hand to her face. He brushed the tip of his finger lightly against her cheek and pulled back with a ladybug.
“Ladybugs are lucky,” she said, embarrassed that his touch caused her to blush.
He smiled. “Maybe I should borrow this one.” He studied the speckled insect crawling slowly across his finger. Then studied her.
She avoided his eyes, which seemed softer somehow, and instead looked toward Chloe. The dog was basking in the sun near the water, stretched out between two flattened rocks. “She looks all played out.” Carley could feel Noah’s eyes on her, but she kept focused on Chloe. “You know, after what you told me, I can’t believe Samuel is allowing me to stay with them, much less do a story.”
“Just be careful who you sell out. Once something is in print, you can’t take it back.” Noah placed the ladybug on a blade of grass.
“I’m not going to sell Lillian out. Or you, for that matter. If you don’t want me to include any of this in the story, I won’t.”
“I don’t want you to.”
It took everything Carley had not to ask, “Then what’s in it for me?” “Fine.”
“There’s something I want to show you. Are you up for another short road trip?” He stood up and offered her a hand.
Carley latched on, and he hoisted her up with little effort. She quickly pulled free of his grip and brushed the grass from her blue jeans. “I guess so. Where to?”
“About fifteen minutes from here, back toward Paradise.”
Noah turned off of Lincoln Highway a few streets before Black Horse Road. After winding down the country road for about a mile, he pulled onto a dirt patch outside a one-story office building. The rundown building was oddly out of place. Acreage stretched as far as Carley could see, with no signs of life except for the cows grazing on the other side of the road. In the far distance, a silo rose from the horizon with no homestead visible.
The red brick building had clearly been abandoned for a long time. Spidery cracks lined the windows that spanned the front of the structure. The words Stonewall Insurance were chipped and barely visible in red lettering. Five round steppingstones led the way to a small concrete porch with a large wooden door.
“I promise, it looks much better inside,” Noah said as they made their way up the steps and to the front door.
“What is this place?” Carley glanced around while Noah fumbled with the key to the door. Abandoned flower beds were laced with tall straggly weeds on each side of the entrance.
“George Meyers ran an insurance company here for years, until he died when I was a kid. The building has just been sitting here ever since.” Noah twisted the knob and motioned Carley inside. “It’s safe. I promise.” He grinned when she hesitated.
Her fears were unfounded. “This is a far cry from the outside,” she exclaimed upon entering, examining what looked like a new tile floor. The smell of fresh paint hit her instantly, along with a powerful aroma she couldn’t quite decipher. “What’s that smell?” she asked as Noah stepped ahead of her and flipped on a light switch on the far wall.
“A combination of about four different cleaning solvents. I’ve been scrubbing the place since I bought
it, about a month ago. I was on a roll until I had to put in some extra time at the hospital, and I fell a little behind schedule.”
“This is your place? What are you doing with it?” She followed him through another door and down a hallway with freshly painted white walls on each side.
“I plan to keep it plain and simple.” He opened a door to his right. “I’ll have four examining rooms, an office, a lab, and a small area for the receptionist. This is the only examining room I have finished.” He swung the door wide and hit the light switch.
The room was patient-ready with an examining table, two chairs against the wall, a sink, and a small desk and stool. Clean and fresh. Plain and simple.
“Are you leaving your position at the hospital to have your own practice here?”
“I gave notice at the hospital last week.” He walked down the hall, and Carley followed. When he flung open another door, the crispness hit her. “The plumber will be here next week to put sinks in the last three rooms. And the rest of the equipment will be delivered soon.”
“Noah, I think this is great,” she said. “But . . . you’re certainly off the beaten path. This place is in the middle of nowhere. Do you think it will be hard to draw in patients, or have you already established a following in the short time you’ve been back in Lancaster County?”
“The patients will come.” He glowed with an excitement Carley hadn’t seen since she met him. “Amish patients.”
“What?”
“Well, not just Amish patients. Anyone is welcome, of course.” He motioned her out of the room and down the hall. “All the Amish families near here have to get rides from the Englisch to their doctor appointments. There’s nothing close enough that they can travel by horse and buggy. This location can serve a huge portion of the Amish community. I hope to be up and running within a month.”
Carley was speechless.
“Here’s my office,” he said. The room at the far end of the hallway was completely furnished with an oak desk, matching hutch, and high-backed tan leather chair. Two small matching chairs faced the large desk.
He appeared to be waiting for a response.
“Noah, it’s lovely. But . . .” What exactly made him think the Amish would come to him for medical care? She was very confused.
“But what?”
Was he kidding? Carley stood in Noah’s soon-to-be office and clasped her hands together. “Noah, you were shunned. What makes you think these people will come to you for medical treatment?” She hesitated, waiting for the lightbulb in his head to click on. “Please forgive this comment, but won’t they avoid you? You were banned from the community, wrote the book . . .”
His expression grew guarded. “These are my roots, Carley. I’m going to make this work. I will provide a convenient service, and I understand these people. I’m not naïve. I know it’s going to take some time. I’ll have to earn their trust. It’s not up to me. It’s up to God. But my shunning happened a long time ago.”
“And is evidently still very fresh in some of their minds.”
“I’ll talk to the bishop if I have to,” he said, undeterred, motioning her out the door. “I’ll show you the rest.”
Heading back down the hall toward the waiting room, he pointed to his right. “This is where the receptionist will sit. I’ll need to hire a nurse too. But that’s it, I’m keeping it small.”
Carley leaned across the receptionist’s desk and through a hollow window into the waiting area. “Do you have chairs ordered for that room?”
“They’ll be here next week too. I have someone coming to work on the outside—to replace the glass and clean things up.”
“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”
He smiled at her skepticism. “I’m sure I haven’t, but it’s a start.” He pushed open the door to the waiting room and waited for Carley to walk ahead of him. “I guess this is my way of trying to give back to the community something I took—their privacy. I want them to have a doctor they can trust, who understands them.”
“Noah, forgive me again, but why should these people trust you? I would think you’d have better luck establishing patients who are not Amish.”
“Ouch.” He flinched.
“I’m sorry, Noah. I just thought that once you were shunned, it’s a done deal.” She paused. “Or can you say you’re sorry or something?”
“I’m not sorry about choosing to leave. I’m sorry I wrote the book. To be reconsidered as an actual member of the Amish community, I’d have to be sorry I left, become reestablished in the faith, talk with the bishop, and get rebaptized. I’m not looking to do that. I just want Samuel and everyone here to know I’m trying to make a difference. A positive difference.”
Closing the front door behind them, he turned the key and headed to a nearby tree where he had tied Chloe’s lead rope. “I know the outside looks rough. But it will look better in the next couple of weeks.”
“I hope it all goes well for you, Noah. And I will talk to Lillian. I don’t know that it will do any good, but I respect what you’re trying to do here.”
“Like I said, don’t jeopardize your friendship with Lillian on my behalf.” He opened the passenger door for Carley and headed around to the driver’s side.
She waited until they were back on the main road before she suggested that Noah take her home. “We’ve been gone most of the day. I guess I’d better get back to Lillian’s.” She retrieved her cell phone from her purse and noticed she had missed three calls—two from Matt and one from Adam. Deciding it would be rude to check the messages right then, she put the phone back in her purse.
“Everyone looking for you?” Noah smiled in a way that made her forget Lillian or anyone else.
“Just my editor at the paper and my brother. I’ll call them both back later. My editor is probably checking on the progress of the story. My brother, Adam, is just checking on me because that’s what he does—all the time.”
“You sound irritated about that.” Noah slowed the car to pull around a buggy in front of them.
“He’s been overprotective since our dad died years ago, but since the accident, he hovers even more. He worries way too much.”
“Was it a car accident?”
Carley recalled telling him her mother had died in an accident, but she hadn’t elaborated. “Yes. My mom and I were in a wreck. That’s how my mom died, and I spent awhile in the hospital.” She smiled in his direction, seeing the concerned look on his face. “But I’m much better now.”
“Oh, man.” Noah’s eyes met hers, questioning her bravado. “I’m sorry, Carley.”
She pulled from his gaze. She didn’t want to talk about the accident. Noah seemed to pick up on that. He faced forward. Silence. Then he turned again. “I’m sure it takes a long time to heal from something like that.”
I’m never going to be healed.
She didn’t say anything. She could feel his eyes on her and wished she could control the flush that colored her cheeks whenever he looked at her.
“What are you thinking about?”
She closed her eyes momentarily, fending off the red Chevy.
“Oh, I guess I was thinking about what I’d like to do with the rest of my life. You seem to have yours planned out.” She shrugged.
“I don’t know about that.” His eyes shifted from the road back to her. “What do you want to do with the rest of your life?”
“I haven’t a clue.” She sighed. “Sad, huh?”
Noah’s faith was intact, despite everything he’d been through. Why couldn’t she have that kind of faith? He knew what he wanted and had plans for how to accomplish his goals. She, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the present. The future was too grim anyway.
“You’ll figure it out.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Hey, I was supposed to have four days off this week, but it never seems to work out that way. I got called in to work the next two days. But I was wondering if you might want
to do this again on Saturday—spend the day together.”
Carley briefly considered his offer. “I can’t. It’s the mud sale.”
Noah nodded. “Ah, that’s right.”
He looked pensive, and she wondered if he’d take her advice and show up, see all his nieces and nephews.
They turned into the parking lot at the farmers’ market, and Noah pulled up next to Carley’s car.
“So maybe I am meant to go.” He shifted the car into Park as he turned to face her. “I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m nervous to see my family after all this time.”
“You wouldn’t be normal if you weren’t nervous.”
Driving her car back to the farmhouse, Carley kept thinking that Noah might be setting himself up for heartache—in several areas. But his passion about the clinic and his hopes for the future seemed to be Christ-driven. She couldn’t help but wonder if turning her own life over to God might give her some relief from all that plagued her. Being mad at Him didn’t seem to be working.
The familiar bitterness rose to the surface. Why me? Why did You allow these things to happen to me?
But no, that wasn’t fair. Noah hadn’t been dealt the best of hands either. Yet he kept God in his court. Maybe—
The sight of dozens of buggies parked around and in front of Lillian’s house interrupted her thoughts. She didn’t remember Lillian mentioning anything about having visitors today. And this was a lot of visitors.
9
CARLEY HEARD VOICES AS SHE WALKED UP THE PORCH steps—a soft murmur and one deep voice that was louder than the others. She pulled back on the screen door that led to the kitchen, careful not to let it slam behind her. Just as she prepared to round the corner and make herself known, she heard a man say Noah’s name. She held her position and listened.
“We cannot be of the type to use Noah Stoltzfus’s services,” the man said. “It is a baremlich thing when our kinner choose the ways of the Englisch after baptism. Noah coming back after all these years changes nothing. His meiding is to be upheld. Noah will make gut with his Englisch patients. Our district must do no business with him.”
