The Heart's Journey: Stitches in Time Series #2

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The Heart's Journey: Stitches in Time Series #2 Page 12

by Barbara Cameron


  But Naomi’s steps were brisk as she walked back to the rental cottage. She flung open the door and saw her grandmother look up from her sewing, surprised.

  “He’s gone. I saw him off on the bus myself!”

  Someone stood and Naomi realized that it was Nick. He’d been sitting there opposite her grandmother and he’d not only heard what she’d said—he’d heard the lift in her voice.

  Naomi sat on the beach, writing letters and postcards while Nick dove in and out of the waves like a dolphin.

  “Wish you were here,” she wrote Mary Katherine and Anna, and she meant it. “I’m sitting on the beach in Florida. In the middle of winter. And I’m not even wearing a sweater. Nick is swimming right now. He says he’ll take some photos to bring back.”

  She paused and chewed on the plastic cap of her pen. Then she began writing again. “We’ve had a great time. Grossmudder has been spending a lot of time with her friend and we’ve both been quilting a lot. There are many women here who have some time to rest and enjoy themselves after all the gardening and harvesting of summer and fall, and they’re enjoying some time off. Of course, they find lots to do. You know how Amish women stay busy.”

  A little boy ran past, kicking up sand on her skirt and the quilt she sat on, too absorbed in having fun to see what he’d done. His mother chased after him, slowing a little to apologize to Naomi, and then picked up speed, catching him and swinging him around, both of them giggling.

  Naomi just smiled and brushed it off. She continued, “Tomorrow Nick’s driving us to several quilt shops and then we’re taking a drive around Sarasota. We’ve done some things I never thought I’d do here: eaten alligator (yes, it does taste like chicken), which was much better than being chased by one—more on that later—attended the big Haiti auction, and best of all, walked on this beach.”

  Some not-so-good things had happened since the last time she’d written her cousins and talked with them on Nick’s cell phone. She almost wrote, “John came to see me and I asked him to leave.”

  But it didn’t seem right to talk about John like that. It felt … disloyal. If she wanted to share that, she’d do it later, in person, with her cousins.

  A few drops of water fell on her. Startled, she glanced up and saw that Nick had walked up and was shaking his wet hair on her. She hadn’t heard him approach on the soft sand.

  She flicked away the drops and turned the letter over so he couldn’t see what she was writing.

  “Water’s great,” he said, shaking his head so more drops flew.

  “Stop that!” she cried. “What are you, a puppy?”

  He grabbed up his towel and scrubbed his hair with it, then ran it over his chest.

  His chest. She felt a blush creep up her neck and wash over her face. When he’d shed his shirt earlier, her mouth had gone dry. Beneath it was a muscled chest with a dusting of curling brown hair on it. The loose white dress shirts he wore for work, sometimes with a tie, and the polo shirts he’d worn here on vacation—well, they’d never really hinted at the toned muscles beneath.

  Was that because the shirts had been loose and that’s why she hadn’t ever noticed? Or was it because something had changed between them? The enforced closeness in the car, being thrown together as he drove her and her grandmother around doing fun things?

  She had been attracted to John or she never would have accepted his proposal. But now, she was realizing that she felt much more physically aware of Nick than she should.

  The thought disturbed her. She frowned as she tried not to look at him and flipped over the letter to finish it. After adding a few more lines, she signed the letter, folded it, and stuffed it into an envelope. She sealed it, found a stamp and affixed it, then put the envelope and her pen in her purse.

  The water was such a beautiful clear blue today. Time was flying by and there wouldn’t be that much more time to enjoy this, to feel free of all cares.

  She knew she needed to talk to John when she returned. When she and her grandmother talked before they came on the trip, her grandmother had said she needed to break off the engagement. Naomi knew she was right. But just the thought of doing so made her head ache. She felt like such a failure, such an utter, utter failure.

  She didn’t want to deal with it, but she wasn’t willing to stay with him rather than make the break. As her grandmother had told her, men like John didn’t change.

  “You okay?”

  Naomi nodded. “I was just thinking we don’t have that much time left.”

  He didn’t need to know that it wasn’t just that she’d miss this place and the time she’d had here. What she needed to do about her relationship with John was their business and no one else’s.

  She glanced over at the e-reader in his hands. “What are you reading?”

  He held it out for her to see. “I found this cool book. Look at what sand looks like under a microscope.”

  “That’s sand?” she asked, leaning closer to look at the screen.

  A surprising array of dozens of multicolored shapes appeared on the screen—a mixture of crystals, shells, and volcanic rock combined to make the sand.

  Like snowflakes, each was too tiny to see how unique it was. Like snowflakes, they formed a bigger whole.

  “I never met anyone who loves to read as much as you.”

  Nick laid the e-reader down on the quilt. “I’ve been like this since I was a little kid. I loved climbing up on the top bunk of our bunk bed and reading. I was hiding out, too. Sisters can drive a guy nuts.”

  “I was the youngest,” she told him. “Apparently I drove my two sisters crazy. They were in their teens when I was born. The last thing they wanted was a baby sister.”

  “I thought the Amish loved children.”

  She smiled. “Kids are kids wherever they are. I was constantly in their things. As the only two girls in the family I think they were hoping that there wouldn’t be another girl sharing their room by the time they got to be teenagers.”

  “You don’t talk much about your family—your parents and your siblings.”

  Thoughtful, Naomi scooped up a handful of sand and let it drift through her fingers. “My mamm died several years ago and I’m not close to my daed’s new wife. And my brothers and sisters are much older than me.”

  She looked up at him and shrugged. “That’s probably why I feel closer to Mary Katherine and Anna. We were all born within a few months of one another. We’ve always felt more like sisters.”

  She sighed. Lately, she’d been feeling guilty that she’d neglected her family to spend more time with John. She’d neglected some of her friends, too. He had a way of drawing her away by saying she wasn’t with him enough.

  Aware that he was watching her, she glanced up and smiled. “It’ll be nice to get home.”

  “But …”

  “But?”

  “It sounds like you’d like to stay longer.”

  He was doing it again, that way he had of seeming to know what she was thinking.

  “No, it’ll be nice to be back in Paradise.”

  He gestured at the ocean. “So you didn’t think this was paradise, huh?”

  She pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around her knees. “It’s felt a little unreal. I know people live here full time but I guess it seems too far removed from what I’m used to. Besides, I love my work at the shop. And my friends and family. I’ll be happy to go back.”

  Except for seeing one certain person, she thought, but kept her expression neutral.

  “You’re getting freckles!” he said, sounding surprised.

  “I am not!” But she reached into her purse and withdrew a small mirror to check.

  Sure enough, there was a scattering of them across her nose. “Oh no!”

  “I think they’re kinda cute,” he said, leaning closer and studying them. “They’re kind of like little flakes of gold.”

  “You’re getting fanciful,” she told him. “Maybe you’ve been reading too much fiction.” But
she felt a funny little catch in her chest when her eyes met his.

  “I know you’re not supposed to think about looks. Vanity and all that. But you’ve grown prettier since we’ve been here.”

  Her—pretty? She didn’t know what to say to that. Oh, John had complimented her now and then. Particularly in the beginning. But he’d never said something like this. It flustered her a little, made her face feel warm—and it wasn’t from the sun.

  “You’ve got a tan now and you glow,” he said. “But I don’t think it’s just the sun you’ve gotten since we got here. You’re more relaxed. You were getting a little stressed-looking there at the end, before we left Pennsylvania.”

  She wasn’t surprised to hear that. After all, she’d finally broken down and talked to her grandmother about John.

  The breeze toyed with her hair and tugged a strand free. Before Naomi could raise her hand, Nick reached over and tucked it behind her ear. Her breath caught and her skin tingled as his fingers slid down her jawline.

  He leaned forward and she felt herself doing the same, drawn wordlessly to him, entranced. She focused on his mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. His touch was gentle, irresistible, his fingers stroking her cheek, luring her closer until their breath merged. Her eyes closed and she felt his lips touch hers, tentative at first, and then with growing passion.

  A gull shrieked overhead, startling her into drawing back. She touched her fingers to her lips, feeling them tingle from his kiss.

  Nick looked stunned. He shoved a hand in his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I have no business kissing you. I—”

  “It’s not all your fault,” she finally managed to say. “I kissed you back.”

  He stared at her for a long moment and she felt her face grow warmer and warmer.

  “Yes, you did,” he said. “Why?”

  10

  Naomi glanced around nervously. What if someone she knew had witnessed the kiss? It didn’t even have to be someone she knew. If any of the Amish or Mennonites in the community had seen it, they’d know that Naomi shouldn’t be kissing an Englischer.

  “Relax,” he told her. “No one was looking.”

  The beach was nearly deserted. The lone woman who sat on a nearby blanket looked engrossed in a book.

  “I know why I kissed you,” Nick told her. “Why did you kiss me?”

  “What kind of question is that?” She stuffed her sketchbook into her tote bag and looked around for her pencil. When she couldn’t find it, she gave it up for lost and stood.

  “What’s your hurry? I’m not going to kiss you again.”

  “Well, good.”

  “Ouch. You still didn’t answer my question.”

  “It was just a—What do you call it? A spontaneous reaction, that’s all.”

  “You’re an engaged woman.”

  She straightened. “You’re just now remembering that?”

  Nick stood. “Maybe you’re just now remembering it.”

  Her face flamed. He was right. After all, he didn’t know that she intended on breaking things off with John when she returned to Pennsylvania.

  She reached down to yank up the quilt with her left hand and cried out.

  “You’re still having pain in that arm?”

  “No. Yes.” How did you answer? He’d notice it was a different arm than the one that had pained her when they first left for Florida.

  “Let me see it.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Naomi.”

  “I appreciate your concern,” she said carefully. “But you’re not a doctor.”

  His expression grew shuttered. “No, I’m not. But I’m obviously someone who cares about you.”

  He bent down, plucked up two corners of the quilt and shook the sand from it, then folded it. Ignoring her when she reached for it, he grabbed his e-reader and walked away.

  Naomi stared at his retreating back and then scrambled after him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  Nick stopped so suddenly that she nearly ran into him. A vein throbbed near his temple and his eyes were stormy.

  “When is it going to stop, Naomi? When are you going to stop letting him hurt you?”

  When she started to speak, he held up a hand. “Don’t!” he said sharply.

  Then, shaking his head, he took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to yell at you. I’m just frustrated. I know these things are complicated. But you have to break it off with him before he really hurts you.”

  “I know.” When he continued to stare at her, disbelieving, she lifted her chin. “I know what I have to do.”

  With that, she walked past him and proceeded to the car.

  “She’s going to go back to him. I just know it.”

  “Maybe not,” Daniel said.

  “C’mon, if there’s one thing I’m certain about, it’s that the Amish are known for their forgiving nature.”

  He looked up and smiled at the waitress as she set a piece of peanut butter pie before him. Stabbing his fork into the pie, he grimaced. “I wonder how much weight I’ve gained since I came here. These people ought to be arrested for making this pie.”

  Daniel cut a bite of his own Dutch apple pie. “Better than back home, huh?”

  “That and I’m resorting to stress eating.”

  “And running.”

  “And running.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin and took a sip of his coffee.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  Nick stared down into his coffee cup as if its contents held some kind of answer to his dilemma. “I’m going to have a talk with Leah this afternoon. If I can just get Naomi out of the house.”

  Daniel clapped him on the back. “I’ll be happy to help there.”

  “You?”

  “I’ll take her shopping. You know, souvenirs, that kind of thing.”

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “Am I supposed to tell you that you’re a pal? You’d better not be thinking of putting the moves on her.”

  “Thinking of her being your girl?” Daniel asked him mildly.

  “Wouldn’t matter if I did.” Nick pushed the pie aside and concentrated on his coffee, but suddenly it tasted bitter. “I had no business falling in love with her.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  He jerked his head up. “You don’t need to rub it in.”

  “I know.” Daniel pushed aside his empty plate and leaned his elbows on the table. “I shouldn’t poke fun at a man in love.”

  “That’s an apology?”

  Daniel shook his head. “No. You’ve got it bad. I can relate.” He leaned back in his chair. “I know in your culture that sometimes two people of different religions marry. A Catholic man and a Jewish woman, that sort of thing. But it’s not the same concept with the Amish and the Englisch. It’s not just a matter of religion. It’s a different culture, a totally different way to live when you’re Amish.”

  Daniel cocked his head and studied Nick. “Although you certainly do blend in. You dress plain for an Englischer and you’re constantly getting involved in the community. You even attend services from what I hear.”

  He grinned as Nick’s eyebrows went up. “Yes, I checked you out. Naomi’s a childhood friend. I care about her.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some bills. “Now it’s time for me to take Naomi out for a ride.”

  Their waitress approached with the check and smiled at Nick. “You remembered your frequent pie card, right?”

  Daniel snickered. “Do you need to ask? You know he’s addicted to your peanut butter pie.”

  She grinned at him. “But the fact that you’re in here almost as often for Dutch apple is okay, right?”

  “Right.” Daniel returned her grin.

  “Say, how is it that you Amish here can drive but it’s not okay in Lancaster County—or any other Amish community I’ve heard of?” Nick asked as they waited in line to pay at the cash register.

  “I’m Beachy Amis
h Mennonite,” Daniel told him.

  Nick watched Daniel pay for his pie and coffee and waited, wanting to know more.

  Determinedly he looked away from the baked goods conveniently placed nearby for sale. Maybe he’d stop in for some homemade breakfast rolls and other baked goods when they left for home. Just to tide them over.

  After all, he wanted to reciprocate for what Leah and Naomi had baked and packed for the trip. He was just that kind of guy. He grinned. He was justifying getting more treats, that’s all.

  “So tell me more,” Nick said after he paid his bill and they turned to leave.

  “Most people don’t want the history lesson about the founding of the church, so I’ll just say this,” Daniel said as he held the door open for Nick. “The Beachy Amish Mennonites—named after Moses Beachy—have been around since the 1920s or so, and we’re very progressive compared to the Old Order Amish you know in Lancaster County. The original settlers to that part of the country have been there since the 1600s.”

  They strolled down the sidewalk. “I drive, my home’s wired for electricity, and I have an inside phone,” Daniel said. “All things you have.”

  A line had formed for the restaurant. Nick walked with Daniel to his car parked nearby. It was a good thing they weren’t in a hurry, because there were a lot of people moving around.

  A mounted police officer stood on the corner, watching traffic and pedestrians as they moved past.

  “Our version of a speed trap,” Daniel told him. “Want a lift to your van?”

  “I’m not parked too far away. I’ll walk.”

  “Well, then I’ll go see if I can persuade Naomi to go for a drive,” Daniel said, and he shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked away.

  Nick frowned. He hoped he hadn’t just asked a wolf to go pick up a lamb.

  Leah opened the door when Nick knocked on it a little later.

  “Why, what a nice surprise,” she said with a smile, holding the door wider so that he could enter.

  “You might not think so in a minute,” he muttered.

  She pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh my, do you have bad news?”

 

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