Plain Pursuit (4 page)

“Just Samuel for now,” Dr. Noah instructed, pointing. He held the door open for Samuel to follow him.

Carley watched Lillian give her husband a questioning look, obviously surprised the doctor knew Samuel’s name.

Noah’s mind kept darting back to the past. His training taught him to push personal issues aside and focus, but as he gazed at the boy, Noah noticed immediately how much he looked like his father.

As the nurse helped David onto the bed, Noah prompted her to start an intravenous line. He wasn’t sure if the boy needed any pain medication. More worrisome was how pale David looked. Best to be prepared.

Noah motioned for Samuel to step away from the bed so he could have a look at David’s chin. “Hang tough, buddy,” he said soothingly, pulling back the bloody towel. After a brief examination, he turned toward Samuel. “Yes, he’s going to need some stitches.”

Samuel fumbled with his straw hat, twirling it in his hands. He grimaced when David groaned at Noah’s touch.

“He’s going to be fine,” Noah assured Samuel. “About three stitches should fix him up.” He turned back to David. “You might have a little scar on your chin for a while, but that’s kinda cool for a guy your age, huh?”

As if Noah weren’t in the room, Samuel addressed his son. “Did you hear, David? A few stitches and we will go to the
haus
.”

“
Ya
, Pop.”

About twenty minutes later, Noah had David’s chin fixed up. But he knew something much bigger was going on than a cut on the kid’s chin. The boy’s blood pressure was high, which Noah knew could be from the pain or the fear from being at the hospital. But he was extremely pale, and something had caused him to pass out and slam to the floor.

Noah motioned for Samuel to follow him outside the door.

“He’s a handsome kid,” Noah said cautiously.

“
Ya.
He is a
gut
boy.”

“Samuel, David is very pale. Has he fainted like this before?”

Samuel dangled the straw hat in one hand, scratched his forehead with the other. “No. He’s a healthy boy.”

Before Noah could say anything else, Samuel turned back into David’s room. Noah followed. Again pushing his personal demons aside, he said, “Samuel, I had the nurse get a urine sample and draw some blood. There are some tests I’d like to run—”

Samuel shook his head, just as Noah expected. “We will take him to Dr. Reynolds for a checkup.”

“David doesn’t need any of Dr. Reynolds’ herbal treatments. He doesn’t need a natural doctor, Samuel. I’d like to do some tests.” Noah glanced at David, unwilling to worry the boy. “Just to be sure that—”

“When can I take David home?” Samuel interrupted. His tone was familiar—distant and laced with resentment.

Noah decided not to argue. He already had David’s blood and urine, and he was going to run the tests regardless.

He turned to David. “David, have you been feeling bad lately? I’m just wondering why you fainted. Has this ever happened before?”

“No,” David responded. “But . . .” The boy glanced at his father, worry in his eyes.

“What, David? It’s important to tell me if you’ve been feeling bad,” Noah pushed.

“I throw up a lot.”

“What?” Samuel asked, taken aback. “When?”

David shrugged. “I reckon mostly after supper. Sometimes after breakfast.”

“I will mention this to Dr. Reynolds,” Samuel said.

Noah rolled his eyes. He knew it was pointless to argue with Samuel any further. He would wait for the test results.

“I guess there’s no reason why you can’t take David home. You’ll need to have those stitches taken out in about ten days,” he instructed.

Samuel nodded.

“Is that your wife and baby outside?” Noah asked.

“Ya.”
Nothing more.

“I was sorry to hear about Rachel. She was a good woman.” Noah hesitated. “From what I heard.”

He shouldn’t have added the last part, but his own resentment tended to spill over from time to time. But as was the Amish way, Samuel avoided confrontation and didn’t reply.

“Well, it looks like you’ve started a new life. You have a lovely family.”

Samuel nodded, refusing to make eye contact.

“Who’s the other woman?” Noah helped David sit on the side of the bed.

“Lillian’s friend from the city. From Texas. She’s staying with us for a month and writing a story about our ways.”

“Oh, really,” Noah said with sarcasm. He knew he should keep his mouth shut. “Guess times have changed if you allow an
Englischer
into your home to write a story about your ways.”

“Lillian trusts her to write a story that rightly talks about our beliefs and way of life.”

Noah grunted, and Samuel’s eyes glassed over with barely contained rage. Noah knew Samuel would hold back, though. No one practiced the Amish beliefs more stoutly than this man. And as he suspected, Samuel took a breath
and refocused on his son.

“Things could have been different, Samuel,” Noah said with regret. “I’ll leave you with David, and I’ll have the nurse get the paperwork so you can go home. David, have your pop call me if you start feeling bad or—”

“The boy will be fine,” Samuel snapped.

Sighing, Noah headed out of the room. Neither father nor son noticed as Noah paused to take a final look at them.

Carley leaned down to retrieve Anna’s pacifier, which had plopped out of her mouth. She handed it to Lillian. The baby was fast asleep in the carrier on the floor between them.

Lillian’s expression puckered. “I wonder how that doctor knows Samuel.” She crossed her legs and folded her arms. “Did you hear him call Samuel by name?”

Carley nodded. “Samuel looked pretty tense. You said his wife died of cancer. Was she in this hospital before she died? Maybe that’s how they know each other.”

“
Ya
. That could be. Samuel told me Rachel spent a lot of time in this hospital before she died. Actually, she passed here. I suspect it’s weighing heavily on both Samuel’s and David’s minds.”

Carley sat up a little straighter. “There’s the doctor now.” She pointed down the hall. “Maybe he’s coming to tell us about David.”

The doctor headed toward them.

“How’s David?” Lillian asked.

“He’s going to be fine.” He squatted, resting his arms on his knees. “He needed a few stitches on his chin.”

“Thank goodness,” Carley said, and Lillian sighed with relief.

Carley’s response drew a look from the doctor. Their eyes connected and held—so long she blushed and broke the gaze. She didn’t care too much for doctors. Not even handsome ones.

He reached toward Anna, gently touching the child’s arm. “And who is this beautiful girl?”

“This is Anna.” Lillian leaned down and admired her little one.

“And you must be Lillian?” Dr. Noah looked up and extended his hand.

Lillian returned the greeting, then turned toward Carley. “And this is my friend Carley.”

“Nice to meet you, Carley,” he responded, taking hold of Carley’s hand. Once again his dark brown eyes held hers. His grip was firm. Too firm. She wriggled free of his grasp.

“Hello.”

“Do you know my husband?” Lillian asked.

Instantly Dr. Noah’s attention returned to Lillian. He smiled, but it was clearly forced.

“Yes, I do.” He stood. “I’d better go. I have patients. Nice to meet you both.”

And he was gone.

“That was odd,” Lillian said once he was out of earshot. “Don’t you think so?”

“Yeah, it was rather strange.”

“Hmm. I’ll have to remember to ask Samuel about it.”

It was three o’clock in the morning when Samuel joined Carley and Lillian at the kitchen table for a cup of tea.

“David is finally asleep, and I just checked on Anna,” he said, scooting in beside Lillian on the wooden bench.

“You look so tired, Samuel.” Lillian lovingly caressed her husband’s arm.

Samuel took a sip of his tea. “I reckon you ladies are mighty tired too.” He looked up at Carley. “I’m real sorry about this, Carley. Not the best way to begin your vacation.”

“No, no . . .” She shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize, Samuel. I’m just glad David’s all right.”

“The doctor at the hospital called you by name,” Lillian interjected. “How do you know him?”

Samuel’s expression soured at the mention of the doctor. He shrugged.

Lillian looked hesitant to quiz him further, but after waiting a reasonable amount of time, she pushed on. “Was he Rachel’s doctor?”

“No,” Samuel said, taking another sip of his tea. It didn’t appear he was going to elaborate.

Carley and Lillian exchanged questioning looks. Lillian evidently found his lack of communication bothersome and appeared to think carefully about her next statement. Nervously twirling a loose strand of hair dangling from underneath her prayer cap, she said, “He seemed to take a keen interest in Anna.”

This caught Samuel’s attention. “What do you mean?”

Lillian was caught off guard by his tone. “Maybe he just likes babies.”

Carley had noticed it too—the tender way Dr. Noah doted on Anna. “I wonder if Noah is his first or last name.”

“It’s his first name,” Samuel said matter-of-factly as he stood up and walked toward the sink. Placing his cup there, he turned off the last of the lanterns on the counter, dimming the light considerably. “I’m off to bed.” He leaned down to kiss Lillian on the cheek. “Going to be a long day tomorrow. We’re all gonna be tired.”

“What time do you want breakfast, Samuel?” Lillian asked, before turning to Carley. “Normally we eat around four thirty.”

Carley almost choked. It was close to three thirty now. “Every day?” She heard the surprise in her own voice.

Lillian smiled in sympathy. “I’m afraid so.” She glanced at Samuel. “But since it’s almost three thirty, maybe we should make an exception tomorrow, no?”

Samuel rubbed his eyes. “
Ya
, we all need a little sleep. Seven o’clock should be fit for breakfast.”

As he walked out of the kitchen, Lillian said, “Samuel?”

“Ya?”
He poked his head back around the corner.

“Does David need a follow-up visit with Dr. Noah?”

Carley could tell that Samuel’s evasiveness regarding the doctor bothered Lillian.

“No, we’ll cart him to Dr. Reynolds when it’s time to take out the stitches.”

Lillian waited until she heard Samuel close the bedroom door upstairs. One brow inched upward as she twisted her mouth into a scowl. “I wonder why my Samuel doesn’t want to say how he and Dr. Noah are acquainted.”

“Men. No telling,” Carley mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“This is not like Samuel to be so evasive about something.” Lillian rubbed her chin. “We talk about everything.” She paused, looking sternly at Carley. “But he was very firm about not wanting to share information.”

“Yes, he was,” Carley agreed.

She recalled the awkward way she and the handsome doctor had locked eyes, along with the lengthy handshake they’d shared.

And now that she thought about it, he had attempted to defy her stereotype of his profession for a moment—taking the time to speak with Lillian, doting on Anna, almost as if he . . . cared.

At least he took the time to pretend; she’d give him that.