Tayte bit her lip. “Noah thought he was doing something wonderful.”
“I think it would be one thing if Ely were paying for it, but Noah is not only designing it and building it, he’s funding the majority of the deck personally. Ely can’t understand that. He keeps asking what Noah is going to ask for in return.”
Tayte shot back. “He doesn’t want anything.”
“But why, Tayte? I can understand that our town would want to honor Ely with a gift package, but why would a stranger want to spend so much of his own money to give us this? We’re not wealthy, but neither are we needy. We have a successful business, a close circle of friends, a loving church community. We always thought we were the luckiest family on earth. There are so many people who need this kind of gift more than we do. He could have built decks for three deserving families for what it cost to build this.”
Tayte didn’t have an answer at first. “His home life wasn’t happy. His uncle John was his hero, and he wanted to get Noah established in the area. Then, when Noah met your family, he wanted to give you something wonderful.”
“Something Ely couldn’t give us?”
Tayte heard the accusation in Margot’s voice. “Maybe, but not in a bad way. Noah, would build one for every veteran if he could, but he can’t, so he helped the town honor Ely.”
Margot eyed Tayte as she mulled the explanation over. “I guess it’s possible. There are other problems too. Jenna always refers to it as ‘Noah’s deck,’ which really burns Ely. Micah has even commented how the deck makes our old stuff look tacky. He keeps asking Ely to buy a new patio set and gas grill. It’s changing our family.” She bit her lip. “I sound terrible. I really do appreciate everything, but Ely’s been through so many hard things, you know? He’s already lost so much. He can’t bear appearing small to his children.”
“What can we do? How can we make this right for everyone?”
Margot smiled and touched Tayte’s arm. “I hope you won’t take this wrong, but the best thing Noah can do is to finish quickly, take his promotional photos, and move on.”
“I understand.” Tayte slumped against the railing, and Margot took the spot beside her.
“I didn’t get you two at first, but I see it now. You love him, don’t you?”
Tayte smiled and nodded.
“When we met at the gallery I thought you hated each other, and then I saw you together here and knew there was something between you. You’re as anxious to protect him as I am to protect Ely.”
“Noah will be crushed if he thinks he disappointed you.”
Margot crossed her arms across her chest in worry. “I wish we’d never been chosen to win this prize package. We still can’t figure it out, Tayte. We never entered anything, and we try to keep a low profile, so we don’t know who would have nominated us, but I wish they hadn’t. Except I have to admit that as hard as this has been for Ely, there’s no denying that it’s lifted the kids’ spirits. Micah has a laundry list of adventures planned for him and Ely, and it has opened Jenna’s world in ways we never expected. Now she’s planning parties and sleepovers with kids from her class. That’s another adjustment Ely is being forced to make.”
“She’s always seemed very outgoing.”
“She is when she’s here, in her safe zone. She has friends. Kids like her, but she can’t keep up with them, so she hangs back. Now she’s going to be the hostess of her own shebang.”
Tayte laughed. “I bet she never let her disability slow her down.”
“No, she didn’t. You should see pictures of her getting around as a toddler.”
“You have photos of her as a baby? I thought you adopted her when she was three.”
“We did, but her mother was kind enough to give us a set of photos from birth on. Hold on. I’ll get her baby book.” Margot returned with the book and sat down.
“Her birth mother raised Jenna until she was three?”
“Off and on. It’s a sad story. Esther and Jenna’s father eloped, but the marriage was annulled pretty quickly.”
The mother’s name disturbed Tayte. “Her name was Esther?”
“Yeah. Like in the Bible. Her family was Amish.”
Tayte’s arms prickled. Parts of the story were too similar to Noah’s story of his marriage to a young Amish woman named Esther. But there hadn’t been a child. Had there? Tayte’s hands began to shake. “Where was Jenna born?”
“Ohio. Her birth mother moved there to another Amish community after the annulment. She met an Amish man who proposed to her soon after Jenna was born. He and others in the Amish community believed Jenna’s disability was God’s will, and he opposed intervention to straighten Jenna’s legs. I would have taken my baby and said sayonara, but Esther was already a castoff, with no one, and nowhere else to turn. She delayed Jenna’s adoption by her new husband, hoping he’d come around and agree to the surgery. After three years, Esther finally made the agonizing decision to give Jenna up so she could be treated.”
Ohio. Noah’s Esther was sent to Ohio. Tayte felt weak, queasy, numb. “How did you find out about her?”
“Our application was already on file with a notation that we’d be delighted to take a disabled child, but I think Esther chose us because of Ely. Once she met him, she knew we would be able to help Jenna have a happy life even if the treatment didn’t correct her legs.”
Tayte sat heavily on the bench. “Do you . . .” she swallowed hard, “do you have any records on the father?”
“We never met him,” Margot answered as she sat beside Tayte, flipping pages in the book, “but his name was also biblical. Let me think. It was . . . uh . . . It was No—” She stopped mid word and stared at Tayte who knew her own expression showed the same alarm developing on Margot’s face.
Margot flipped through the book to a back page where one Polaroid picture of a happy smiling couple of teens was mounted. Her eyes widened in horror as she stared at the images. The face of the young girl was unfamiliar to Tayte. But the tall young man had pinkish-red hair. He was a dead ringer for the face in Noah’s old driver’s license photo.
Margot turned on Tayte. “You knew?” she screamed.
“No! There has to be some mistake.”
“This explains it. This explains everything. He came here for Jenna!” Margot bolted up and through the door screaming, “Ely! Ely!”
Tayte gathered her things and tried to call Noah, but Ely wheeled out and grabbed her phone from her, tossing it aside. “No! Don’t you warn him! You sit right there!” he demanded as he dialed 911 on his own phone. “I need an officer to 379 Deer Valley Road. We think our daughter might be in danger!”
Ely didn’t need to restrain Tayte. Her legs felt like mush, and she couldn’t respond to any of the questions Margot hurled at her. Her head dropped into her hands, and she rocked back and forth trying to make sense of it all. There was no denying Noah was the young man in the photo, and the stories about Esther matched his, point by point . . . except for the child.
She tried and tried to fit the pieces together in some way that left doubt about Noah’s guilt, but there was too much damning evidence to ignore. Margot’s earlier arguments sounded in her mind. Why was he investing so much of his own money in this project? To win the Eppleys’ trust? To win Jenna’s affection? Hadn’t she asked herself a hundred times why he bothered to stay?
Her phone rang, and Ely dared her to get it. “It’s not Noah. It’s a friend.” She half lied. It was Nathaniel, her attorney, who she desperately wanted to speak to.
Ely nodded, and she picked up the phone. “Nathaniel? I’m so glad you called.”
“Have you heard from Noah?” he asked in a panic. “I just got a call from one of John’s friends that the police have issued an APB on Noah.”
“I’m here at the Eppleys. He’s Jenna’s biological father, Nathaniel! They think he used this contest to get close to her!”
He groaned. “Do you know where he is? He’s not answering his phone.”
&nb
sp; Tayte remembered his urgent request to meet with Noah. “Did you know about this?” she charged. “Is it true?”
“I can’t get into this with you right now!” His voice was sharp, and the next question was direct. “Where is he?”
“H-h-he said something about using his uncle’s tools this morning. Nathaniel, please tell me this is all a mistake.”
“Don’t say another word about Noah to anyone, Tayte. I’m going to the Andersons’ place to see if I can reach him before the police do.”
“They think I’m involved too.”
She heard him groan again. “Don’t say another word to anyone about anything until I’m right there with you, okay?”
“Okay.”
* * *
Noah finished routing out the last monogrammed E. He frowned as he blew wood chips away. He would have preferred to hand carve it all. He had so many plans for the deck that would never see fruition, but the Eppleys’ patience had run out, and time was of the essence.
He wondered what time it was. As he retrieved his phone from the truck, he wondered if Tayte was still at the Eppleys’, and if she’d succeeded in smoothing things over between him and them. He hoped so.
There were three missed calls and two texts from Nathaniel, triggering a belated reminder that he had been expected at the lawyer’s office earlier in the day. Just then, he heard the kick and skid of gravel signaling the rushed arrival of a vehicle. Such a hurry usually meant trouble so he walked to the doorway to check on the source. One dust-covered hand pulled his safety glasses off while the other grabbed the untucked bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat and wood debris from his brow.
He recognized Nathaniel’s car as the vehicle raced into the yard and skidded to a stop.
“What’s going on?” Noah asked, bracing for the worst.
“We only have a few minutes, Noah. I wanted to get ahead of this mess, to explain the situation to you before things got out of hand.”
“What things?”
“We don’t have much time. The police will be here any minute.” A siren sounded down the road.
“For who? For me? Why? I haven’t done anything!” Noah felt the chilling return of fear as sirens increased and more tires kicked up gravel. His stomach twisted, and his heart thundered as old memories of cops and jeering inmates and hands and fists returned. But he was young then. Weak and small. He scanned the area, assessing his chances to bolt. No. He’d done nothing wrong.
“Cooperate. One of the detectives is a personal friend of the Eppleys. Don’t fight them, and don’t say anything!” ordered Nathaniel before stepping out in front of Noah.
A sheen of icy sweat oozed from every pore, putting his fear on display. Two police cars pulled into the yard. Doors flew open, badges were flashed, orders screamed. Noah watched Nathaniel raise his hands forward in an attempt to head off trouble.
“I’m Mr. Carter’s attorney. I know why you’re here, and I can explain everything! This is nothing more than a grievous misunderstanding.”
Noah was beyond confused as two armed officers moved past Nathaniel and on to him. “Is that right?” they said in a condescending growl. A pant-suited female officer and her partner, a no-nonsense snarler, pulled out cuffs and thrust their badges in Noah’s face. “Noah Carter? We just want you to come with us so we can ask you a few questions. Please turn around and place your hands on the car.”
Noah glared at the group as the Eppley’s minivan arrived. Then he saw Tayte staring at him from the backseat of one of the police cars.
“Tayte? Tayte!” he hollered. “What’s going on?” he demanded of the female officer.
The officer repeated the order for Noah to spread-eagle on the car, but Noah ignored it as he shouted questions to Nathaniel and down the driveway to Tayte.
“What’s going on? And why do they have Tayte?”
Her one request returned with haunting clarity. Please don’t break my heart. It had been an easy request to grant. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to keep her safe, and here she was, caught up in some mistake that surrounded him. No matter how hard he tried, trouble followed him.
His path was blocked so he yelled, “Tayte! Are you all right? Have they hurt you?”
The burly officer grabbed his shoulder, but Noah used his greater height and weight to shove him back. It was a bad idea that sent the man stumbling to the ground. One uniformed officer stepped toward him with a baton raised while the other helped the scrambling male detective spin Noah around and slam his face down onto Nathaniel’s hood. The stabbing pain took him back to his childhood when his father would backhand him across the room. As blood oozed from his nose, the female officer carried on with her rapid-fire charges about stalking, followed by a reading of Noah’s rights. It was all lost on Noah, whose mind was still processing one word she used—daughter.
What daughter?
The charges were so bizarre Noah wondered if the whole affair was a nightmare from which he would awaken. He waited for them to realize their mistake, but the pain they were inflicting was real as they pulled the plastic restraints tight. Nathaniel’s nearly rabid protestations were failing. The more he defended Noah the more trumped up the charges became, with the detectives rattling off insinuations about Tayte’s involvement and their concerns about a possible kidnapping plot. Worse, Noah couldn’t read the brow-twisted expression Tayte wore. He summoned every effort and jerked away from the hood, calling Tayte’s name, but the detective leaned across his bound arms until his shoulders burned. He felt like that child whose mother begged him not to fight back.
Shut up, Noah. Please, just shut up or Daddy will hit you again.
Once again, he was being reminded how powerless he was.
“Okay, okay!” He blocked out the pain by focusing on Tayte. Through an iron jaw he growled, “Just tell me why Tayte is here. Why do you have her?”
Nathaniel scrambled around, pleading with the police, but he was like a whisper in a whirlwind of angry voices, malicious hands, hateful looks. They all blended into a surreal blur.
The detective and one of the officers swung Noah up from the hood, plastering his chest against the closest police car’s rear fender. He thought he heard the crack of a rib but glass and plastic fell as his safety glasses broke. “Duck your head and get in,” ordered the detective.
“Please do it, Noah,” Nathaniel instructed. He laid a hand on Noah’s back. “Don’t say a word until I’m by your side. Jared’s on his way. I’ll meet you at the station.”
Jared? His defense-attorney-cousin Jared?
Noah made brief eye contact with Tayte as the car carrying him turned and pulled out. “Tayte! Tayte!” he hollered through the glass, earning a nod of acknowledgement that shifted to a blank gaze.
The restraints cut into Noah’s wrists and back on the ride to the station. He blocked the discomfort out by focusing on the female officer’s charges—stalking? Kidnapping his own daughter? He had no daughter, and yet Nathaniel expected the charges. He said he could explain the misunderstanding away. He’d been frantic to see Noah after Uncle John’s funeral. Was it about this?
Tayte had been at the Eppleys. And why had Margot and Ely come to the farm? They had a daughter. Was it Jenna the officers accused Noah of stalking? Plotting to kidnap? It was absurd. The very thought made him sick.
Someone else had said something to him about Jenna. Agnes. What had she said?
You and she have the same eyes . . .
He’d tossed the comment off because of her dementia, but that conversation fell on one of her happiest days. Her thinking had been clear.
He recalled the cold reception Jenna’s parents had given him recently and Jenna’s instructions not to speak to him that last day. It all fit. This was somehow about Jenna. But why?
He hadn’t behaved or spoken inappropriately to the child. He was kind. Why not? She was a sweet kid. Only nine years old. A kid he felt sorry for because she had clubfoot disorder. He had told her about his feet . . .
You have the same eyes . . .
Nine years old. Adopted. Clubfoot. You have the same eyes. . .
He shook over the idea formulating in his mind. He pushed the notion away, blocking out the crazed, ridiculous thoughts, but he couldn’t prevent them from creeping back in.
The cold reception Ely and Margot had given him. Jenna’s instructions not to speak to him that last day. Nine years old. Adopted. Clubfoot disorder. Same eyes. He ran the math. It was possible, but how could it be?
The knots in his stomach turned to rancid pools that ate at him, threatening to consume all that he thought he knew about himself and his neat and tidy world.
Esther had written to him of her pending marriage, offering to end her engagement and be with him if he wanted to try again, but he’d been too wasted to even reply. Her letter arrived more than a year after their wedding night. Had there been a child? Had that been the reason she was willing to make another attempt with him?
Noah laid his head against the caged gate that separated the front and back seats, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him. Is this why Uncle John came looking for him? Why he was so adamant that he build the Eppleys’ deck? Had he known all along?
Anger and chaos consumed the vacuum left behind by the obliteration of all Noah knew and believed. His mind was so filled with unfathomable ideas that he numbly cooperated through his processing at the station. Nathaniel was waiting for him in a small room with a table, two chairs, and one window that overlooked rows of desks and officers.
The lawyer’s hands came up defensively. “I completely understand your need for answers, but bear with me a moment longer, Noah, and I may be able to resolve this quietly.”
“Is this about Jenna Eppley?” Just voicing the question made Noah tremble, but he noticed the slackening of Nathaniel’s face and shoulders. “Is she my daughter?” he demanded. When Nathaniel hesitated in answering, Noah kicked the table’s leg, nearly shoving the furniture into Nathaniel. The sound drew two officers, who rushed to the door, but the attorney waved them off. His eyes begged Noah for patience, and then he left the room. Noah had his answer.
A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE BOXED SET Page 31
