Plain Pursuit (36 page)

She glanced around the bedroom she’d grown up in. She had come home to the big empty house with a shattered heart and had fallen into her old life.

Matt was pleased with the Amish story she wrote on the plane ride home, publishing it the first week she returned to work. He’d given her the promised assignments, plus a few more. As before, employees bickered over who deserved the best news stories and other mundane issues.

Adam continued to hover over her like she was incapable of taking care of herself. She thought about the clinic and all she’d done to get it ready. She wished Adam could have seen the way she and the other women whipped the place into shape—lifting the heavy equipment, organizing each room, setting up a filing system, and tackling all the other tasks required to get the Stoltzfus Clinic ready. Not to mention the way Carley had tended to David and Noah, helped with the household chores, and lived without electricity or modern conveniences.

Looking back at all the events of her stay, she realized she’d been exhausted most of the time, but never happier. One thing she knew—staying busy and taking care of the needs of others had kept her own issues at bay.

She looked around her bedroom again. So many wonderful memories in this big house. But she was reminded daily that it was just that—a big empty house. She missed her mother more than ever. Her anxiety problems had resurfaced, with visions of the red truck rolling through her mind at times. Funny how her vivid recollections of the accident had all but ceased in Lancaster County. She’d reached a point while she was there when she hadn’t had time to focus on herself. Now, even with her job, she had too much time to think.

Life was different in Amish Country. Despite a demanding schedule that she knew would push some city folks to hightail it home, her new friends always made time for reflection, prayer, and appreciation of each other. Those times of thanksgiving were an important part of a busy day’s schedule. What she wouldn’t give for one day of all that.

And everyone helped each other. The food tasted better too—all homegrown and homemade. Carley could still taste Lillian’s bread, melted butter heaped atop a slice fresh from the oven. Rhubarb pie. Shoofly pie. And Lillian’s famous raisin puffs.

And despite the controversy about the shunning, people in the community still managed to come to Noah’s aid when he needed the love of family and friends. It was difficult for them to defy the bishop, but in the end their own good natures overcame their hesitation. There was a fellowship Carley didn’t think she would find anywhere else.

Two weeks ago she’d attempted to help a colleague with a news story that was going to require a ton of research. The veteran reporter was quick to tell Carley he didn’t need her help, that all she was trying to do was to get credit for the story. In the world of the Amish, not only would they have offered to help with anything—they would have declined credit for their efforts. Carley didn’t want credit; she just wanted to help. She needed to do something—something that made a difference.

Lillian kept her updated about David. Just yesterday Lillian had called to tell Carley that he was doing so well at home that she was returning the borrowed cell phone—after jokingly saying she would miss that particular modern convenience.

Each time she talked to Lillian, Carley asked about Noah. Lillian said she hadn’t seen much of him, but from what she had heard, he was doing well. In a polite way, Lillian always tried to coax Carley to come see for herself.

Knowing the Amish community self-insured, Carley had tactfully asked Lillian if they were all going to survive the financial hit of the transplant. She knew from her own hospital stay—and her mother’s—how hard the financial aspect could bear down on a family. She suspected the cost of the transplant had been a harsh reality for the Old Order district. Carley also knew David’s medications would continue to run around a thousand dollars per month. Lillian had tearfully shared with her that an anonymous person was taking care of that expense. Both women knew there was no anonymity about it.

Carley’s young friend Dana, whom she’d kept in touch with, wasn’t always so polite when it came to Noah. “He misses you, Carley. It’s wrong for you not to be here,” Dana had said during their last phone call about a week before.

She looked again at the letter. Six rough drafts later, she still hadn’t mailed Noah a return missive. No words seemed to express what was in her heart. But as she unfolded the pages, she remained in awe of the way Noah was able to express himself.

She really didn’t have to read the letter. She knew it by heart.

Dear Carley,

It’s only been a week, and I miss you even more than I thought I
would. Since you haven’t returned my calls, I’m sending you this letter, and
I will pray to hear from you. After my release from the hospital, Dana
took me by the clinic. To say that I was shocked and touched beyond words
would be an understatement. What you all did represents the unconditional
love I have been searching for with my family. Unconditional love means
there are no boundaries when it comes to matters of
the heart.

Such is my love for you—unconditional.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you, miss you. I regret that
we didn’t get to date like a regular couple. Instead, we were forced into
circumstances beyond our control. It made me realize that life is short. My favorite quote: “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we
take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” You, Carley, take
my breath away.

You think my life will be incomplete if I have no children of my own. I know in my heart that my life will be incomplete without you by my
side. Let me take you in my arms and love you forever. Be my family,
Carley. God will see to the rest.

I am opening the clinic for business on August 15. Dr. Bolton said
I should be able to resume all activity by then. I’m a good doctor, but
I’m somewhat lacking in organizational skills. I need a good person to
act as my office manager. Know anyone who might be interested? Qualifications for the job are: They must be beautiful, like Carley
Marek. They must be kind and put the needs of others first, like Carley
Marek. They must be so unselfish that they would give up love based on
what they think the other person needs, like Carley Marek.

If you know anyone who fits that description, I would welcome the
opportunity to talk to that person.

Perhaps I imagined what you were feeling. I don’t think so, but I
must consider the possibility. If I was right—that you love me the way
I love you—then please call or write.

With all my love,

Noah

“No, my love. You weren’t imagining anything,” Carley said aloud. She pressed the letter firmly against her chest.

She was jarred from her thoughts by the unwelcome chirp of her cell phone. She reached over and, for the first time in a month, didn’t check the caller ID.

“Hello,” she said.
Please be Noah
.

“Everything okay? You doing all right?”

“Adam, why wouldn’t I be doing all right?” She rolled her eyes and then sighed loudly enough for him to hear.

“You just haven’t seemed the same since you got back from your trip. I was just checking on you.”

“I’m not the same!”

“I knew it. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Adam. I just don’t need you checking on me constantly. You act like I’m incapable of taking care of myself.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, Adam. I know you love me, but I need to take care of myself.”

“You’re all I’ve got left of my family, Carley,” Adam said sadly. “And after Mom dying and everything you’ve been through . . .”

“I don’t need to keep being reminded of that. I live with it daily. I look around this house at all the pictures of our family—of Mom and Dad, of you and me. I miss Mom, Adam. I regret that I won’t have a family of my own. But please quit reminding me of everything I’ve been through. I’m trying to move on and—”

Suddenly it hit her. She wasn’t moving on. She was exactly where she was before she went to Lancaster County.

“Okay,” Adam said apologetically. “Point taken. I’ll try to do better.”

They chatted a moment longer, then they said good-bye.

Carley snuggled beneath the quilt again. She just wanted to read Noah’s letter one more time. But before that, she closed her eyes.

Dear God . . .

August fifteenth. Noah had advertised within the Amish community, hoping to draw in patients. He knew most of the Amish would seek the services of a natural doctor first. But he planned to be second in line. Offering free immunizations for the children would be an incentive for the community, along with a huge reduction in typical medical fees. And almost all members of the district could reach him via horse and buggy. Noah was well aware of the bishop’s rule about utilizing his services, but he planned to remain optimistic about the clinic.

In another optimistic gesture, he had ordered a desktop nameplate engraved with Carley’s name. But it had been over a month since he mailed her the letter. No return phone call. No letter. What a foolish man he was. And at this point, his pride was seriously at stake.

Not quite optimistic enough to actually place the nameplate on the desk, he kept the thing stashed in the drawer of the receptionist’s desk.

He heard Gloria come through the front door of the clinic.

“Good morning, Doctor,” the plump, gray-haired woman announced. She smiled broadly in her colorful blue scrubs with cartoon animals splattered about. “It’s our first day,” she said excitedly.

“Good morning to you,” he said, smiling.

Gloria Tice was close to retirement age and one of the friendliest nurses he had ever worked with. She had jumped at the chance to leave the hospital environment for something a little less fast paced. Although, looking at the scheduling book, he could see it was going to be more than just a little less fast-paced if they didn’t get some more patients scheduled.

“I see that while you were here answering the phones last week, you scheduled a few appointments.” Noah glanced down at the book. “Anything from the Amish?”

“No, Doctor. Only four appointments. And none of them were Plain. I know this because they all gave me insurance information.”

“Any patients for today?” He feared her answer.

“No. Not for today. But give it some time. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of new patients before you know it.” The woman smiled enthusiastically.

Noah nodded. “I’ll be in my office,” he said before he headed down the hallway.

Mid-August brought scorching temperatures to Houston, often over a hundred degrees during the day. Carley was watering the front yard when she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. It was Lillian.

“Wow!” Carley exclaimed when Lillian announced that she was pregnant again.

“We are so thrilled, Carley. We both want lots of children.”

A quiet moment turned into awkward silence. Carley didn’t want Lillian to feel uncomfortable about the issue of children. This was a joyous occasion. “Lillian, I’m so happy for you. You Amish don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Haste is waste.” Lillian giggled.

“Where are you calling me from?”

“The shanty at the Lapp farm.” Lillian sighed. “I don’t know why Samuel won’t just install a phone in the barn. Years ago, that would have been unheard of, but now lots of Amish families have a phone in the barn. It’s supposed to be used just for business and emergencies, but I know that’s not always the case. But Samuel believes in following the rules.”

“Has Samuel grown any closer to Noah?” Carley asked with hope in her heart.

“I’m afraid not. As a matter of fact, Bishop Ebersol held another meeting recently reminding the community that no one is to visit Noah’s clinic unless it is a dire emergency. So everyone has pretty much steered clear of Noah.”

“Even Mary Ellen and Rebecca?” Carley worried things were reverting back to the way they were before
the transplant. “And what about you, Lillian? I’m sure the baby needs vaccinations. Are you using the clinic? Have you been to see Noah?”