An Unexpected Match Page 17

  “Qualities my father has in abundance.” Rob smiled sadly. “He’s proud he was able to pull it off for so long.”

  “Doesn’t he feel any remorse about all the people who lost their savings because of him? If I cost someone everything, I’d be eaten alive with guilt.”

  “He’s completely unrepentant.” Rob’s voice was hard. “Of all the things I find hard to forgive, that’s the hardest.”

  It was her turn to smile sadly. Would he be able to forgive her for her deceit?

  “I want to do the same thing, you know.” He watched her closely.

  “What same thing?”

  “Be a money manager. A certified financial planner.”

  She studied him. “But you aren’t arrogant at all.”

  He smiled, relieved. “I hope not. Not a very Christlike attribute.”

  They smiled at each other, and he reached across the table for her hand. Tingles again.

  “Tell me about your father,” he said.

  She studied their clasped fingers resting on the table beside the ketchup. “He’s a farmer.”

  “An Amish farmer?” he asked with that charming smile.

  Tell him, Rachel. Now. Explain. But explain what? That she was Amish but was living Englisch? That she loved Amish life but wanted Englisch perks? That she was confused? Or that she was a liar and a cheater?

  No, she wasn’t going to risk their relationship, still so new and fragile, by telling him what a mess she was.

  Rob spoke and to her confused relief the moment of opportunity passed. “I hear they’re good at saving money, probably because they don’t spend it on stuff like we do.”

  Rachel tipped her head in agreement. “I think one of the differences between them and us—” Her voice tripped and she had to clear her throat before she could continue. Was she already one of us, one of the Englisch? Had she crossed some invisible line when she wasn’t looking? “—is they spend it with purpose.”

  “So do the rest of us.”

  “To satisfy our wants, not needs.”

  Rob fiddled with her fingers, and she felt the touch in a flow of warmth running up her arm.

  “You must know some Amish,” he said. “You know so much about them.”

  Did she ever. She cleared her throat. “Some.”

  “No wonder you understand them.”

  No wonder.

  “Hey, Rachel. How are you?”

  She froze at that voice.

  Pulling her hand free of Rob’s, she forced herself to look at her brother standing beside her booth, a goofy smile lighting his face. She forced herself to smile and act pleased when what she really felt was exposed. Outed. Her castle in the clouds was about to collapse with a mighty crash.

  “Johnny. What are you doing here?”

  His grin broadened. “I was eating dinner. Like you.” He looked at Rob, clearly wanting an introduction.

  Rachel felt dread wash through her where a minute ago it had been the tingling warmth of Rob’s touch. Johnny could—what could Johnny do? This brother who was her delight and her despair could ruin her life.

  “Johnny, this is my friend Rob Lanier. Rob, my brother Johnny.”

  Rob stood and the men shook hands. “Join us,” Rob said.

  Johnny slid in next to Rachel. She looked at him, but he concentrated on Rob. “So how do you guys know each other?”

  “From class,” Rob said. “At Wexford.”

  “Class?” Whatever Johnny expected, it wasn’t that. He looked at Rachel with a raised eyebrow. “At college?”

  Rachel took a deep breath to steady herself. She deserved any embarrassment Johnny could cause.

  Rob sent her a smile that made her cheeks heat. “She sat in front of me that first night, and I was a goner. It was a rainy night and her hair, all curly and wild in spite of her barrette, kept distracting me from the lecture.”

  Johnny sat back and looked at Rachel. “Curly hair, huh? And wild.”

  She smiled weakly, aware of her hair falling free down her back.

  “A comp class.” Rob rolled on, unaware of Rachel’s distress. “She’s a great writer. I know because the professor reads her stuff to us all the time.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised the professor likes her, but—” Johnny reached out and pulled gently on a curl. “It is pretty.”

  Rob looked at her and smiled. “Beautiful.”

  In spite of her rapid pulse and churning stomach, she had to smile back.

  Johnny studied her. “She usually wears it pulled back and all tucked away.”

  “Really? I’ve never seen it that way, and I’m glad.”

  Johnny grinned, eyes alight with something she couldn’t quite decipher. She knew it was either mischief or evil intent. She held her breath.

  “Well,” he drew the word out to increase her anxiety. He grinned at her and she closed her eyes in expectation of the worst. “Rach has always been both smart and pretty, though hardly anyone tells her so.”

  She blinked. What?

  He smiled at her with an understanding she never expected from him. “And she does look good in pretty clothes.”

  Rachel flushed while Rob nodded agreement.

  Johnny stood. “I’ve got to go. I just wanted to say hello and meet Rach’s friend.”

  Rob stood and the men shook hands again. “Nice to meet you, Johnny.” He smiled at Rachel. “You’ve got a fantastic sister here.”

  Rachel colored while Johnny studied her. “Yeah, I do.” He leaned down and whispered,

  “We need to talk, sister mine.” Then he smiled and flicked a wave. “See you.”

  As he loped off, Rachel watched him go. Her delicately balanced life was in his slightly shaky hands. She slid from the booth. “I guess we should go too. My day starts very early.”

  They paused to pay the bill. When they walked into the parking lot, only a few cars remained. Rob took her hand again and turned to say something. Before he could speak, they heard the unmistakable sounds of a fight: the scuff of shoes, the thump of the punch to the body, the grunt of pain.

  In the far dark corner of the parking lot two men were attacking a third. A man with curly hair was holding the victim while the other, a big man with broad shoulders, punched him. A baseball bat leaned against the bumper of a nearby car.

  Rachel froze. The deliberate violence horrified her.

  “Call 911,” Rob ordered and ran toward the fight.

  “Rob, no!”

  “Enough,” Rob roared just as the puncher picked up his baseball bat and cocked it, preparing for a swing. Rob grabbed the bat on the backwards swing, and using the weapon’s momentum, kept the arc going and pulled it from the puncher’s hands.

  “What the—”

  Taken completely by surprise, the man spun. The man holding the victim was equally stunned and loosened his grip long enough for the man to pull himself free. He staggered and went down to one knee.

  Rob stood with the bat cocked on his shoulder. He seemed completely at ease. “Two to one? And a baseball bat? Bit of overkill, don’t you think?”

  The big man Rob had stripped the bat from strode forward with a snarl. Rob swung the bat between them.

  “That’s far enough.” He swung the bat again. “You don’t want to cross into no man’s land.”

  The man paused and pointed his finger at Rob’s face. “Stay out of something that’s none of your business.” He grabbed the bat with both hands and wrenched it from Rob’s grip. He let it fall to the ground and took a threatening step forward. “Thomas, we got ourselves a new one.”

  The one who had been holding the victim took a step toward Rob.

  So quickly Rachel saw more the results than Rob’s move, Rob grabbed the puncher’s arm, turned him and twisted it behind his back. He pushed the man against the hood of a parked car.

  “A bit of wisdom a guy like you should know.” Rob held the man in place. “Never get close enough that they can grab you. Never.” With a last push he released th
e man’s arm and stepped out of reach.

  The man straightened and glared at Rob. He rubbed his arm, flexing his hand. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  Rob nodded. “Probably not. Now get lost before the cops come.”

  “I called the cops!” shouted a man standing near the door of the Star.

  “Me too,” called another man standing by his car. “They’re coming!”

  Rachel felt relief since she’d been too upset to move, let alone call.

  Thomas, the holder, took a step back, hands held with palms facing front. “I don’t want nothing to do with the cops. No way.” He disappeared into the darkness.

  The big man, stance full of threat, stared at Rob. Then he held up a finger gun and went “Bang.” He grabbed the bat from the ground and disappeared into the field behind the diner like the first man.

  Rob knelt by the victim. “You okay, Johnny?”

  Johnny! Rachel went cold all over.

  Chapter 25

  Rachel looked at Johnny slumped on the bed in her guest room. She couldn’t help it; she had to ask again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Rachel, enough.” His voice was tired and irritated. “I’m okay.”

  He didn’t look it to her. He had a split lip and a fearsome black eye forming beside the red weal on his right cheek, but it was internal injuries she was worried about.

  He had insisted he was fine to the EMTs who appeared at the Star with the ambulance and police as part of the first responders. Even a fire truck came. “I’m not going to the hospital. I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m fine.”

  The annoyed EMT eyed him. “If there’s blood in your urine, get to the hospital. And sign this release.”

  “Sure,” Johnny said as he signed.

  “Any idea who those men were?” the police asked.

  “None,” Johnny said, staring at the ground.

  “I’ve never seen them before,” Rob said.

  “Me neither,” said both the men who called 911.

  “The guy who did the punching and had the bat called the other one Thomas,” Rob said. “He had curly hair if that’s any help.”

  “You know a Thomas with curly hair?” the cop asked Johnny.

  Johnny started to shake his head, then brought his hand to his forehead like he was trying to stop the pain from the movement. “No. No Thomas.”

  “You’re sure? Very few people get jumped without provocation.”

  “Never saw them before,” Johnny assured the officer.

  “He knows who they were,” Rob whispered in Rachel’s ear as they stood off to the side waiting for Johnny to be able to leave.

  She stared at him, not wanting to think he was right. “How do you know?”

  “I just know. So do the cops.”

  Rachel studied the men talking to Johnny, big men wearing guns and carrying their authority like shields. She saw their looks of skepticism at Johnny’s denials and realized Rob spoke the truth.

  That Johnny knew men who went around beating up people frightened her. That they had attacked her brother chilled her to the bone. That he protected them confused her.

  Where had he met them? What had he done to become their target? Was he following the Amish custom of not getting involved in police matters? Or was he for some unknown reason shielding evil men?

  Finally the police released Johnny, who limped to his car with his arms about his middle.

  He saw her look of concern.

  “Don’t worry, Rach. I’m fine. Just holding the organs in.”

  She barely understood him, garbled as he sounded because of the split lip.

  Rob opened the passenger side. “Over here. You can’t drive.”

  “Sure I can.” He ruined the assertion by staggering. Rachel caught his arm.

  “Rob’s right. You can hardly stand upright.” Rachel glared at him for even thinking he could handle a car. “I’ll drive.”

  Complaining and groaning in equal measures, Johnny let Rob tuck him in the passenger seat. Rachel took the wheel.

  Rob shut the door and went to his own car to follow. Rachel buckled in, ordered Johnny to do the same, and then pulled onto the road.

  “How do you like driving, Rachel?” Johnny asked as she stopped for a light. “Beats a horse and buggy, doesn’t it?”

  She didn’t answer; she didn’t want to talk about her Englisch behavior with him, not tonight. Johnny slumped back in his seat and shut his eyes. At her house, Rob helped him up the front steps, across the living room, and up the steps to the second floor.

  Rachel hurried ahead and had a kerosene lamp lit in the bedroom with a blue log cabin quilt on the double bed. As Rob lowered Johnny, her brother clutched his middle and groaned.

  Rachel winced at his pain. “Johnny, please go—”

  “Rach, stop. I’m fine. Just a bit sore.”

  “A bit?” Her fear for him made her sound angry. “You’re—” He glared at her and she bit her lip.

  Rob put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, and he kissed her cheek, a comforting touch rather than romantic. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “It’s not.”

  He smiled, understanding. “No, it’s not.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and released her.

  “You need help to the bathroom, Johnny?” Rob stepped to the bed. “I’ll take you before I go.”

  While Johnny stumbled to the bathroom beside Rob, Rachel pulled back the quilt and put fresh sheets on the bed. By the time they got back, the room was ready and Johnny sat carefully on the edge of the bed.

  “No blood,” he announced as if he’d achieved a great victory. “See? I’m fine.”

  “He took a fistful of your pain meds,” Rob said.

  “Over-the-counter stuff. He could have gotten stronger medicine if he’d just—”

  “I’m here. I hear you. I’m not going.”

  He tried to toe off his shoes and grimaced. Rachel dropped down, untied them, and pulled them off. He nodded his thanks and fell sideways, letting his head settle on the pillow. Slowly, painfully he pulled his legs onto the bed and turned on his back, shooing her when she tried to help. He took the package of frozen peas she extended and held it to his eye.

  “Stubborn,” she said, but softly and with affection. “Call me if you need me. I’ll be just down the hall.”

  “You’re wise to stay with him tonight,” Rob said as she walked him to the front door. “Just in case.”

  Stay with him? Oh. Her breath caught. He thought this was Johnny’s house and she was being nice to spend the night.

  He pulled her into a hug that made her feel safe in the midst of her chaotic world. “Want me to stay too?”

  She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. They stood quietly for a few minutes, Rachel reveling in the comfort after the storm. In the storm.

  She stepped back. “You’ve got that business trip tomorrow, and he’ll probably sleep the night through with the pills he took. Go home and get a good night’s rest before your big day.”

  Rob nodded. “Call if you need me. Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Rob walked onto the porch. “Nice house Johnny’s got, by the way.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Did he get it cheap from an Amish guy because there’s no electricity?”

  She hadn’t given the kerosene lamps a thought in her concern for Johnny. She just smiled and didn’t correct him as he went down the steps. She watched him drive away and thought about the web of deceit she’d woven for herself.

  Was she supposed to give up class and her dream of getting a degree? Of exercising her mind? Of learning? Was she supposed to give up Amy? Give up Rob? Rob who had thrown himself into the fight. Rob who had swung a bat at a man though she knew it was only in threat. Rob who had twisted that man’s arm behind his back and pushed him against a car.

  Rob who had kept Johnny from being badly hurt.

  But maybe it
was God’s will that Johnny be beaten. God is sovereign. Was this beating His way of teaching him to return to Amish life? Or find a better Englisch life? Had Rob interfered with God’s plan?

  Was there ever a time when violence was necessary or at least understandable? Forgiveable?

  Jesus taught that if a man smote you, you should offer the other cheek. You should bless those who curse you. Love one another. Return good for evil. Stories from Martyrs Mirror flashed through her mind. Early Anabaptists went to death for their faith rather than resort to swords and violence to protect themselves and their families. Nonresistance was woven into Amish thinking from its earliest roots.

  Always she agreed that pacifism was right, mere common sense as well as dogma. If people wouldn’t fight, there would be no wars.

  But it was her brother being beaten. And it was Rob who had saved him. Gentle, kind Rob who loved Jesus and told her the story of Chaplain Roussey and his salvation.

  Was there a difference between protecting yourself and seeking vengeance? The Lord said vengeance was His. No argument there. But what about when you were attacked like Johnny? There was nothing of faith involved as there’d been for those written of in Martyrs Mirror. Did that make a difference? But then living out your faith was supposed to be part of everyday life, as needed as the air she breathed and as real as the ground she stood on.

  She slipped her hands into her unbound hair and grabbed fistfuls. It was more than even her clever brain could parse.

  “Rachel,” Johnny called.

  She hurried to his room. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to say good night.”

  She nodded. “You sleep in tomorrow and get better.”

  He nodded. “I hope my phone holds its charge overnight so I can call work tomorrow morning.”

  “I can call if you want me to.”

  He studied her for a moment, and she shifted uncomfortably. She felt she had a red H for hypocrite embroidered on her shirt.

  “Why’d you marry Aaron?” he asked.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Aaron. Why?”

  “Why not? He was a wonderful man.”

  “But not for you.”

  She stared at him, startled. Insight and Johnny were usually strangers. “He was my choice, Johnny. We were happy.”