The Patient One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  When he realized he was tempted to kiss her again, John stepped away. He didn’t want to embarrass her or do something that would make her regret having given him her trust.

  Before he could change his mind, he took her hand and started walking. “It’s a pretty big maze. If we don’t get going, we could be here all night.”

  Marie, in a very un-Marie-like way, didn’t comment on his abrupt change or ask any questions. She just smiled up at him like he was something special and stayed by his side.

  As they continued, cornstalks rustled in the wind on either side of them. Laughter and conversation floated around them, most of it muted, though every couple of minutes a loud exclamation or laugh would ring out. Overhead, the sun was slowly setting. A harvest moon was rising, just as the once bright blue sky faded into a steel gray.

  Two teenagers appeared in their path, took one look at him and Marie, and turned right around.

  Marie laughed. “Did you see the look on that boy’s face? He looked like he was never going to find any privacy in this maze.”

  “All I noticed was that the girl was blushing.”

  Marie chuckled again. “Who knows? I might be still sporting a blush myself.”

  Looking down at her, all he saw was a pretty smile. “You look fine, Marie.”

  She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

  John had been in enough cornstalks to have a general idea about how most mazes were laid out. But still, at each juncture, he stopped and asked Marie which way she wanted to go.

  Every time, Marie would smile slightly and simply say right or left. And then they would be on their way again. Meandering their way, both lost in thought.

  He found the walk to be very much needed, since his whole body had felt like it was on fire when he’d kissed her. Within fifteen minutes, both he and Marie were joking with each other, just like old times.

  As they neared the end, more people surrounded them. Marie began talking to a couple of ladies who were old enough to be their grandmothers. The tension between them lessened and became almost familiar.

  John sighed in relief. Thank the good Lord that he hadn’t forgotten everything that was right.

  “Do you think we’re close yet?” she asked.

  Since he was pretty sure after they made two more right turns they would be at the exit, he nodded. “Pretty close.”

  “Oh.”

  He squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” After a pause, she looked up at him. “I just . . . well, I’m kind of sad it’s over, you know?”

  Feeling a lump form in his throat, he nodded. “Jah,” he said at last. “I know.” If he were another type of man, maybe he would have promised her more kisses, more stolen moments together . . . anything she wanted.

  But he wasn’t that man. More importantly, he wasn’t in a position to offer her anything more. He was still Amish and she was still English. That difference didn’t matter in the middle of a corn maze. But in the real world, where they were surrounded by their family and friends?

  It made all the difference in the world.

  After one last right turn, they came to a crowd of people standing near a wide opening. With reluctance, he let go of her hand.

  “John?” Marie asked.

  “You made it!” a twelve- or thirteen-year-old English girl chirped before he could say a word. “Would you like a ribbon?”

  “A what?” he asked.

  She held up the gaudy satin ribbon with NEWMAN’S FAMOUS CORN MAZE printed in white block letters. “Everyone who gets through the maze gets a prize.” She thrust it toward his hand.

  “Nee, danke.” The last thing he wanted was some silly ribbon memorializing what had just happened. He didn’t want anything to taint or cheapen the way he was feeling.

  “No, wait,” Marie said. “I want mine.”

  “Truly?”

  “It’s a keepsake, John,” she murmured, her green eyes looking sweet and languid under the twinkling white lights overhead.

  “Let’s get you one, then,” he said, realizing once again that he might know how to navigate a corn maze but had much to learn about what women wanted.

  “Thank you,” Marie told the girl as she took both ribbons and carefully placed them in her purse.

  “What would you like to do next?” he asked.

  “Do you want to check on your sister?”

  He couldn’t believe it, but he actually had forgotten about her. After considering the pros and cons about getting into her business, he shook his head. “Nee. Molly looked to be just fine.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a bit of a turnaround from how you treated Danny earlier.”

  He shrugged. “You’re right. Of course I want to keep her safe and protected. But . . .” His voice drifted off as he realized he’d been about to mention that he’d just done some things in the cornstalks that the rest of his family wouldn’t be all that pleased about. “Um, what I mean, is that Molly has gotten pretty good at reminding me that she ain’t a child anymore. Though we’re all likely to still be looking out for her, I know she’s right. I need to learn to give her some space and let her grow up. No good will come out of encouraging her to stay so sheltered.”

  Marie’s expression softened. “I’m proud of you. I know it’s in your nature to want to protect her.”

  Her approval made him feel good, like he’d done something worthwhile, though it wasn’t anything more than accepting that his little sister wasn’t a helpless girl—and that he, too, didn’t want a family member commenting on every little thing that he did. “What would you like to do now? Are you hungry? Want some cider?”

  “Not really.” She pressed a hand to his forearm. “I . . . well, I think maybe we should talk about what just happened.”

  “Jah. We probably should. After we meet everyone at the food carts.”

  “I had forgotten all about them.”

  “Me, too.”

  She looked up at him. “I need to give everyone rides home who needs them. Could we talk after?”

  “We can talk whenever you want, Marie,” he said as he lifted a hand to greet Elizabeth Anne and Harley, who were both holding caramel apples.

  However, fifteen minutes later, John was alone with Marie again. The rest of their friends had found other rides home. From the knowing smile Will had cast him, John wondered if they’d planned to leave on their own all along.

  Marie had seemed surprised but hadn’t argued with their decisions. Instead she simply bought a caramel apple for herself and ate it as they walked back to her vehicle. When they reached the Escalade and she was about to unlock it, he noticed that she still had a dab of caramel on her lip.

  “Hold up, Marie,” he murmured as he pressed his thumb across her mouth.

  “John?”

  “It was nothing. Just a bit of caramel.” Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he kissed her softly. “There,” he murmured. “Now, you’re perfect.”

  She pressed a hand to her lips, but her eyes lit up.

  “How about we go back to your place?”

  “Um, all right?”

  She sounded so hesitant, so un-Marie-like, he nudged her like he used to do back when they were teenagers. “I promise I won’t attack you, Marie. I just . . . well, if we’re going to be talking about what just happened, I’d rather do that in private.”

  Looking around them, at the crowds of people, she nodded. “I would, too. We know too many people here. Our luck, someone will overhear our conversation.”

  He had no doubt that if any one of their acquaintances got a hint that they had been kissing in the cornfield, it would be too tempting for them not to share . . . and maybe even add to the story a bit. “We’ll just talk.”

  She chuckled. “Did you read my mind?”

  “I didn’t need to. You had a look on your face that said you were a little worried.”

  “I wasn’t worried about how far you would want to go, John. I’ve been telling
myself that I needed to practice some self-control around you.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing. It seems we’re two of a kind, Marie.”

  He’d intentionally kept his tone light, but he knew that they really did have a lot to talk about. Losing control before they discussed what type of future they could possibly have would be wrong.

  But though his head was telling him to keep his cool, John knew he was going to pull her into his arms before he told her good night. He was a patient man, but there were limits to how long he wanted to wait to hold her close again.

  FIFTEEN

  Remembering how awkward it had been, holding a tiny kitten and wondering how to get it close to her skin while still staying modest, Katie shook her head. “That was Andy for ya. He always had plans that made perfect sense to him . . . but not always to everybody else.”

  As she maneuvered her black Escalade through the crowded parking lot, Marie kept recalling a conversation the eight of them had had five or six years ago. It was about the time when Harley and John were graduating from the Amish school at fourteen. She had been secretly appalled that they weren’t upset about not getting a better education. Andy had been plain jealous. But then Logan had reminded them all that the reason they all got along so well was because they’d respected each other’s differences—and that had been all she’d needed to remember: they each had their own path to take in life. She was college bound, John was Amish and had a different type of education ahead of him.

  That conversation had been one of the reasons she’d been okay with going to Cleveland and not staying in close contact with everyone. She’d assumed they wouldn’t have much in common once they were adults and living on their own. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

  And though Andy’s death had spurred the desire to reconnect with her friends, she’d quickly realized that they had been destined to remain close with the seven other people in their group.

  But what was happening between her and John? This was something else entirely. She liked him. A lot. Found him attractive. Found him desirable. Wanted to be with him all the time.

  Which meant that one of them was going to have to change. She couldn’t pretend that their differences didn’t matter in the real world. They did.

  This realization was a surprise. She was a woman who liked things to be orderly. Liked for things to be how she expected them to be. This new development was throwing her for a loop, even though she knew it shouldn’t have.

  As if John sensed that she needed time to process it all—or maybe he, too, needed time to figure things out—John was quiet as she stopped to allow a very large family to cross in front of them.

  Marie appreciated John’s silence. Though she wasn’t literally shaking, her insides felt a little unsteady. Tonight, everything between them had changed. It didn’t matter what either of them had done with other people in the past. All that mattered was that the familiar platonic friendship she and John had enjoyed was now in the past. She didn’t think she could ever look at John Byler again without recalling how it had felt to be in his arms.

  Maybe she would be feeling different if she could dismiss their kisses as a mistake, a matter of the two of them getting carried away in the moment. Like neither of them could control themselves when they were standing in the middle of cornfields or something.

  But even if nothing ever happened between them again, Marie knew that she would never consider those moments between them to have been a mistake.

  Not when being in his arms felt so right.

  “Marie, are you going to be all right?”

  “Hmm?” She’d already driven out of the parking lot and was cruising down the highway.

  “You’ve been quiet. I thought maybe you were having difficulty driving in the dark.”

  “No, I’m fine, John.”

  After a couple of seconds, John spoke again, his voice sounding a little rough. “I guess that was the wrong thing to say, huh? Sorry. It’s just I sometimes hate that you are always the one having to be driving.”

  Surprised, she glanced at him. “John, I never even think about it. You’ve driven me around plenty of times in your buggy. This isn’t that different.”

  “I think it might be.”

  “It isn’t to me.” She meant that, too. She never resented the fact that he didn’t drive a vehicle and she did. There were many things he could do that she couldn’t.

  “I appreciate that. But still . . .” He took a breath then continued. “Lately I’ve been wondering what things would be like between us if I jumped the fence.”

  Jumped the fence. As in: left the Amish.

  Marie tightened her grip on the steering wheel in a sorry attempt to not show any reaction. That was pretty difficult, considering what she really wanted to do was pull off on the side of the road and confide that she’d just been thinking the same thing. Then, maybe pepper him with about a thousand questions.

  “Marie?”

  As the tension emanated off of him, she realized he was waiting for her reaction.

  “John B., I don’t know what to say.” She wanted to share what she’d been thinking but needed to see his expression when they talked. Boy, she really wished he would have waited about thirty minutes until they were sitting in her living room, having their big discussion.

  He reached out and pressed a hand to the top of her thigh. “Hey, did you already forget what we talked about? What you promised? Don’t call me John B., Marie.”

  “That was a mistake. I didn’t forget.” She just happened to be a little rattled at the moment.

  “Gut.”

  He sounded so satisfied, so completely masculine and pleased, a tremor went through her. Both from his touch and his words . . . and the fact that she was driving fifty miles an hour down the highway in the dark.

  “John, I can’t believe you brought this up while I was driving.”

  “I know. I guess it just kind of came out. It’s been on my mind for a while. So, what do you think?”

  “I think we need to talk about this when we’re at my place.”

  He pulled his hand away. “Are you upset?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Sure?”

  She was stunned. She was excited and scared, too. Excited about the thought of having a real future with him. Scared about somehow disappointing him—and realizing that he’d made a huge sacrifice for her that he regretted. “It’s . . . um, just a lot to take in.” She glanced at him, intending to smile, when he jerked.

  “Marie!”

  She looked back at the road in time to see a car weaving toward them. It was going way too fast and veering into their lane.

  There was no time to move her vehicle to the shoulder. No time to do anything but react. Crying out, she slammed on her brakes and laid hard on the horn, but they began to skid.

  The sedan barreling toward them weaved again, going back to its lane, then crossing the yellow lines in the center once again.

  Still skidding, Marie jerked the steering wheel hard to the right.

  “Marie!” John called out.

  She gasped as her heart pounded so fast she could hardly hear anything else. For two seconds, she thought they were in the clear, that she’d saved them.

  But her actions hadn’t been enough. The driver of the other vehicle had lost control and slammed into them on her side of the SUV, just behind her seat.

  The crash created a scream of metal and screeching tires, blending in with her own screams.

  John called out. Her Escalade slid farther off the shoulder and down the steep, gravel-covered ravine. Seconds later, they slammed into a line of fencing, the other car following on their heels.

  Their air bags came out, hitting her hard in the chest and side. Her body was thrown forward. She held out her hands in an effort to shield her face.

  And then she was aware of nothing but pain in her head and hands, the darkness that suddenly surrounded them, and the fact that John was not only s
ilent, he wasn’t moving at all.

  Tears filled her eyes as she felt warm liquid touch her cheeks. Though she tried to fight it, she closed her eyes.

  And then didn’t feel anything else at all.

  John had no idea how long he’d been lying in the dark, strapped to his seat, surrounded by air bags, peppered with small pebbles of glass.

  Little by little, he slowly became aware of flashing lights, the piercing cry of sirens, and men’s voices calling out to each other.

  Then he was aware that Marie’s SUV was tilted in a lopsided way. If he hadn’t been strapped tight, he would no doubt be resting against his door.

  “We’re gonna get you out!” a man called out.

  John blinked. Attempted to focus. After several tries, he was finally able to see two firefighters standing on Marie’s side of the vehicle. They were leaning close, calling out to the crew of emergency workers who had just arrived.

  What they were saying slowly registered. The whole side of Marie’s vehicle was crumpled.

  As the men continued to call out warnings and instructions to each other, more sirens rang through the air. At last, John came to his senses. He’d been riding with Marie, flirting and teasing with her . . . and then that car had been coming toward them.

  Where was Marie?

  Though his head was pounding, the vehicle was tilted, and the majority of her side was crumpled, he looked for her.

  At last he found her, half buried in the collapsed air bag. But she wasn’t moving.

  Pure panic set in, holding hands with his worst fears.

  “Marie?” he croaked out. “Marie?” His alarm increased as he attempted to shift and reach for her. “Marie, answer me, wouldja?”

  No answer.

  Suddenly fearing the worst, he started feeling for his seat belt, trying to unbuckle himself so he could get to her.

  “No, buddy!” a voice called out.

  He looked up. Realized the firefighter on his side was yelling at him. “I know you’re hurting, and we know you want out, but don’t touch that belt just yet, okay? Hold on. We’re doing our best to get the two of you out.”