by Leanna Ellis
“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.
Chapter Thirty-Six
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 r
ang 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?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
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.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Samuel stepped out of the communal shower at the training center, toweled off, and hurriedly dressed. He wanted to get back to Levi’s before Naomi headed home for the night. Half hopping and half walking, he yanked on his boots, moving through the bath facilities toward the door. He was midway through the sleeping quarters when he realized something was amiss.
It was quiet—too quiet.
His eyes strained to peer through the darkness into the bunks. But his eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. Cautiously moving forward, he bumped something hard with his shin.
Usually some of the men lounged on their bunks, milled about, or snacked after their evening session. But tonight, he was alone. Where was everybody?
A sound—a snicker?—came from his left. He jerked around and something small and light smacked him in the forehead. Laughter rumbled around him.
The lights came on, and Samuel squinted against the sudden glare. “What’s this?”
“We thought you needed a little help.” Harry pressed forward with all the team members. His brown features split with a generous grin.
Samuel met the other smiling gazes and tried to gauge what was coming next. With these guys, one never knew. “Have you all gone loony?”
Joe bent down and scooped up something off the floor. Was that what hit Samuel in the head?
Dwight moved in close, bumping his shoulder. His grizzled face split with a grin. “We thought you needed some help.”
“How’s that?” Immediately, he regretted asking the question.
“We bought you a gift.” Lance nudged him from behind. Shorter than Samuel, Lance was wiry with a whiplike strength.
The team gathered around Samuel, pressing in close. Samuel braced himself for whatever would come next.
Before he could bolt, someone grabbed his arms and pinned them behind his back. This was gonna hurt.
Joe moved forward and jabbed something under his nose. Samuel jerked his head but too many hands held him. Joe’s look was serious, threatening, but in a blink, his expression shifted to creases in the corners and a spark of humor. Gripping the sides of Samuel’s face, the leader smeared something across his mouth. Samuel bucked but was held secure.
Harry made kissing sounds. “Some lip gloss for when you see your lady friend.”
Laughter rose around him. Samuel yanked free. Or maybe they let him go. Someone jabbed him playfully in the ribs and clapped him on the back. Stumbling away, Samuel swiped his sleeve across his mouth, tasted strawberry.
“Ain’t lip gloss,” Shawn corrected Harry. “It’s lip balm. Makes your lips supple and smooth.”
“Oh, you’re making me horny now!” Pete grabbed Shawn from behind and lifted him in the air. Pete’s eagle tattoo bulged on his bicep.
“Hey!” Shawn broke free and pumped a fist at Pete. “Remember what Roberto said about impure thoughts and unholy, unsanctified acts.”
“Don’t worry. You’re not my type. I prefer the ladies.” Pete hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and rocked back on his heels. “Besides, I didn’t sign up to be no priest.”
Randy placed a thickly muscled arm around Samuel’s shoulders. “You need some advice about women? You come to me. I can tell you all you need to know.”
“Yeah.” Shawn waggled his white-blond eyebrows. “Randy’s good at diagrams.”
Feeling his face burn, Samuel ducked his head. “No, thanks. I’m doing all right on my own.”
“I’ll say!” Joe’s laugh resonated through the room. “Maybe the Amish boy can give you some tips, Shawn! How long has it been since you got any? Like never?”
More laughter followed, and they shoved and clapped Samuel on the back as they rubbed the top of Shawn’s head playfully. But Joe lifted his hand and halted the shenanigans. The others quieted quickly, their gazes following Joe’s toward the door.
Roberto gave a polite nod. “It’s late, boys.”
“It is.” Joe dusted off Samuel’s shoulders. “Now, go straight home. No detours tonight. You need y
our beauty sleep.”
Roberto trained his gaze on Samuel and tilted his head for him to follow. Samuel lightly punched Joe in the thick bicep and wove his way through the rest of the team members. He snatched the tube of lip balm out of Shawn’s hand. “You boys won’t be needing this tonight. But I might.”
With a grin, he followed Roberto into the workout center.
“Don’t mind them,” Roberto said. “It’s just their way of accepting you as a part of the team.”
“So I measure up?”
“You always have. See you tomorrow, Samuel.” Roberto turned away.
But Samuel stopped him with one question. “How?”
Roberto tilted his head and gave him a hard, assessing look. “They’ve watched you during the training sessions.”
“They know I can take a beating.”
A hint of a smile appeared, then disappeared. “They trust you. And they know what happened in Ohio.”
Jacob. They knew he’d killed his own brother. It felt like a knife stabbing his chest. The good feeling the team had roused was drowned out by the guilt pouring out of him like blood.
For a long moment, he stood in the dark, fighting back the memories, the self-reproach. He had a sudden urge to run as far as he could…or drive. Yes, drive. He’d hop on his motorcycle and take off. For where he didn’t know.
Only dim lights illuminated his path, and he wove his way through equipment and dangling ropes, around the wrestling mat, to the side door. A clicking sound stopped him. He peered into the lecture area, where Roberto taught about the spiritual aspects of the battle and Roc taught tactics. In the tiny, blocked-off area, surrounded by chalkboards and chairs, Roc knelt in front of a table with three lit candles and clicked beads together.
Samuel watched his friend, who seemed to have many burdens weighing on his shoulders these days. But Roc carried the stress and responsibility well. Just when he thought he knew all there was to know about this man, Samuel learned something new. He looked up to Roc, respected him, wanted to be like him. But was he ready to take such a bold step? Was he ready to walk away from all he’d ever known?
