Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel (23 page)

Naomi felt a catch in her chest, her heart hiccupping.

She stood inside Rachel’s house, staring out the window as the van pulled into the drive. Rachel rushed outside. Smiles were passed around, hugs exchanged as Samuel climbed out of the van.

The early morning sun cast red-tinted light across the yard, but Naomi’s gaze was transfixed on Samuel. His hair appeared golden, his shoulders broader than she remembered. He wore a small patch of a bandage on his neck.
Was
he
hurt? Had he been wounded somehow?
She remembered cupping his large hand in hers and bandaging the blisters and stripped flesh. He shook hands with a couple of the men. One wrapped his thick arms around Samuel and lifted him off his feet. Naomi smiled with them, even if from a distance, and whispered a prayer of thanksgiving.

The baby fussed, and Naomi went to check on him. David was standing in his crib, his little legs wobbly, making him bob and weave. He wore a proud smile on his face.

“And what have you done there, David?” She smiled.

Cooing, he bounced until his legs buckled, and he sat down hard. His blue eyes widened.

“Wanna try again?” She held out her hands for him to grasp. The baby wrapped his little hands around her fingers and she pulled him up until he stood, jouncing and swaying. “There you go!” She smiled at his eagerness. “Happy now?”

He made a squealing noise as he tilted sideways. She caught him and lifted him out of the crib.

“You’re a strong one.” She hitched him on her hip. “I bet you’d like a little snack, huh? Your mama and I made some bread. It’s still warm.” She carried the baby into the kitchen and set him in his high chair. He pummeled the plastic tray while she cut a slice of bread and spread some butter on it. Pinching off little bites, she scattered them over the tray. “Here you go.”

The back door opened and Samuel walked in. Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to rush to him but held back, unsure.
Did
they
have
that
kind
of
relationship?
Her heart jerked crazily at the sight of him. Maybe the memory of the woman who’d come to see him…had taken him away…stopped Naomi from throwing her arms around him and kissing him. There were too many questions and not enough answers for her to reveal her heart.

Samuel locked gazes with her and swallowed hard.

She gave him a warm smile but remained where she stood. “Samuel, it’s good that you are back. We were awful worried.”

“Feels good to be home.” He closed the door behind him, and Naomi realized Rachel wasn’t coming inside.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. “Can we talk?”

“Of course.” Her gaze drifted toward the window, but she could no longer see Rachel or any of the men outside. David was gumming the bread and his cheeks and mouth glistened with the greasy sheen of butter. She wiped her hands on a dish towel.

“Rachel will be back soon,” Samuel said. “She went to make a new member of the team comfortable in the bunkhouse.”

“I see.”

He approached the table slowly. “It was nice of you to come and help her. I hope it will not cause you trouble with the bishop.”

“I’m not worried.”

He leaned onto the back of a chair. “I wanted to explain what happened.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Samuel. We are all glad you are home safe. That is enough.”

“I need you to understand.” He crossed his arms, then let them fall to his sides. “That woman…the one who came here. Andi. That’s her name. She was my…we used to see each other…sort of…but not anymore. Not anymore,” he emphasized. “Not since I left Ohio. She had information about Jacob. That’s why I went off with her. Not for any other reason.”

The tension along her neck and chest eased. There was something incredibly sweet about his awkwardness. He was making it very plain there was nothing between him and that
English
woman—at least not anymore. He looked like a lost little boy when he spoke of Jacob. The raw need to know more about the brother he’d lost forever touched Naomi’s heart. “And did she?” she asked, her voice soft. “Did you learn more about Jacob?”

Samuel gave a slight shrug. “I don’t really know. It was…” His voice trailed off and he finally said, “Not good.”

Her gaze shifted toward the bandage on his neck. “You were hurt.”

He touched the edge of the bandage. “I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

He nodded. “I learned a couple of things while I was gone.”

She waited, her hand folding over the top of a chair that stood between them.

“I learned I couldn’t trust her…Andi.” A hardness glinted in his eyes.

Had
the
woman
betrayed
him? Hurt his heart?
“I’m sorry.”

Samuel gave her an odd questioning look.

“I know how it feels to be betrayed. And well…I am sorry.”

“It wasn’t the kind of betrayal you might imagine. But, Naomi”—he moved forward and took hold of her hands—“I also learned there are some things worth caring about…worth dying for.” His words pierced her heart, and she felt a charge in the air humming between them.

David gave a sharp cry, and Naomi startled, focusing on the baby. “What is it? Oh, are you thirsty?” She hurried to the cabinet and pulled out a sippy cup and filled it with apple juice. The baby guzzled the juice, and she turned her attention back to Samuel.

“Things?” she asked.

His mouth quirked with a half smile. “A leading question, Naomi.”

Her cheeks warmed and she looked away, but he moved toward her and took her hands in his again. His touch was warm and insistent. “I’m sorry I involved you in all of this.”

“It was my choice.”

“Was it?” The smile had left, replaced by a seriousness that unnerved her.

Nervously, she licked her lips.
Would
he
kiss
her
now?
A longing to hold him, hold on to him, welled up inside her.

“Naomi.” He spoke quietly. “You should go home. It’s not safe here.”

His words punched her.
What
was
he
saying?
She felt a fracture crack open her heart. “Not safe?” She scrambled for a reason to stay. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to be a part of his life.
But
how? When he apparently didn’t want her…
“But Rachel,” she managed. “She needs help. And you…” She was squeezing his hand, not wanting to let go. “I will help you.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“Yes, there is. I began a prayer chain. We will continue to pray for your protection and of the others. The good Lord has brought you back.” She felt tears rising and struggled to hold them back.

For a long moment, he stared at their joined hands. “That may be what saved me. That and Father Anthony arriving in time.”

“Saved you?”

“Naomi”—his voice cracked—“as much as I may want you to stay here with me, I want you to stay safe. That’s my utmost concern.” He released her hand and stepped away. “We’re leaving soon, the team and I, and so should you. Levi will take you home.”

Her heart jolted. She felt herself reeling. She placed a hand against the counter. “Where are you going?”

“After Roc. We’ve had a couple of leads. Randy, Pete, Lance, and Shawn, one half of our team, are tracking leads on Roc.” He balled his hand into a fist. “This is all my fault. And now, the team is split. Roc is gone.” His voice cracked. “We have to get him back.”

She threw caution out the window and clutched his arm. “You will, Samuel. I believe. But it will be dangerous,
ja
?”

“Like dropping into hell.” He covered her hand on his arm with his other hand. “But don’t worry. God willing, I’ll be back. In the meantime, you must go home. Do you understand?”

She didn’t understand why someone would want to hurt Roc Girouard, but it didn’t matter if she understood or not. She simply knew these men had to help their friend, just as she felt driven to help Samuel. “Do not worry about me. I will be praying for you…for Roc.” She squeezed his arm even as she felt her heart contract. “The Lord will give you the strength you need.”

“I hope so.”

She peered deeply into Samuel’s eyes. “I know he will. Believe, Samuel. And bring Roc back to his family.”

His mouth thinned to a straight line. He started to pull away but stopped and leaned toward her. He tilted his head, and she felt her stomach plummet as her soul soared. The line of his mouth softened as he touched his lips to hers.

It was the briefest of kisses—soft, gentle, chaste—and yet it flipped her world upside down, turned it inside out. Her heart jerked crazily in response. She longed to grab on to Samuel, to hold him close, and yet she held herself in check.

When he backed away, he held her gaze. “I’ll return. I promise.”

They spent the night at the training center, readying equipment, preparing the van and themselves. The day was muggy, as if the weather was awaiting some sign or cue. By evening, clouds rolled in but no word came.

“We must wait,” advised Father Anthony, who had been conversing with Father Roberto.

“Randy will contact us when they’ve discovered something,” Roberto agreed. “Until then, we should rest. There will be plenty to do in time.”

“Yes.” Anthony looked each team member in the eye. “You will be no good to anyone if you are exhausted. Get some sleep.”

Joe stepped forward. “The van is packed. We are ready to move, so everyone hit the sack. Now, while we have time.”

Solemnly, everyone found a bunk and fell into it. Shifts were established and patrols guarded the grounds. Silence descended, except for the occasional tossing and turning, rustling of sheets, squeaking of springs, and a cough or grunt.

Samuel stared up at the darkened ceiling, not seeing anything, yet seeing everything he had been missing. His mind churned over the events of the last couple of days.
What
if
Father
Anthony
hadn’t arrived? What if Andi had changed him? Was she out there, even now, planning another attack?

For what seemed like hours, he tossed and turned, his mind chasing thoughts like his old dog, Buster, after a rabbit. He worried about Naomi. She had stayed with Rachel, refusing to go home. He worried what Roc was enduring. Or was he already dead? But Roc was prepared for death. He had a strong relationship with the Almighty.

Words from a story he’d read, one of Jacob’s favorites, came to him.
Deep
into
that
darkness
peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting…

How long had he been staring into that darkness, trying to make sense of it? Had it crept into his soul? Or was the darkness there because of an innate bent toward evil? Was he ready to die? He’d already faced certain death once in the last day. And he’d understood his errors. For too long, he’d put it off, but now was the time for a decision.

Flinging his covers off, he climbed out of the bunk, pulled on his clothes, and quietly left the room where one or two were snoring. He made his way through the darkened training center to the place where Roc used to pray. Several candles, their wicks blackened, sat on the table. Samuel lit one and the light wavered over a leather-bound Bible. Father Roberto’s. Samuel picked it up and flipped through the crinkly pages, landing on a passage in 1 Kings where Elijah, the prophet, competed against the prophets of Baal. Elijah said to the people, “
How
long
halt
ye
between
two
opinions? If the LORD be God, then follow him: but if Baal, then follow him
.”

How long had Samuel been sitting on that fence, undecided, reluctant to make a choice? Now was the time. He closed the Bible and blew out the candle; the pale gray smoke rose and drifted off. He no longer needed a candle to light his way.

Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.

He knelt in that place, where he’d seen Roc praying. How long he stayed there he couldn’t be sure. He went through the long list of sins as they came to mind and asked the God of the universe for forgiveness. A quiet peace filled him, and when his mind had stilled, he rose.

“Am I interrupting?” a voice startled him. Father Anthony stood nearby.

“I was…uh…”

“No need for explanations, Samuel.” Anthony placed a hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “We all should be readying our souls.”

“Has there been word yet?”

“Not that I’m aware. I’ve been on patrol, but Joe has taken my place. Father Roberto will rouse the troops when it’s time.” He sighed and rubbed his face wearily. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep. Seems to be my own thorn. Need some reflective time of my own, I fear. Are you back to bed then?”

“There’s one more thing I need to do.” Samuel searched the wisdom in the older man’s face. “Could you help me?”

Who is that?” Jacob asked Remiel. Another angel, large and gleaming with bulging muscles and stern expression, had appeared in the training center, giving a solicitous nod to Remiel. He took the same stance Jacob had become accustomed to seeing—sword drawn, planted, with hands on hilt.

“It’s our signal.” Remiel turned away and walked through the wall of the center and into the night.

Jacob gave chase. “What do you mean?”

“It’s time to go, Jacob.”

“Go? How can we go?” He glanced back at the center. “Samuel is still in trouble. It’s just getting worse.” Jacob felt a sudden tug on his body, and he was being lifted into the air, along with Remiel. “No! I’m not ready. I can’t leave my brother.”

“Samuel’s fate is already sealed.” Remiel leveled his blue gaze on Jacob. “And so is yours.”

“I don’t care about my fate—”

“That’s admirable, but we still must go.”

A wall of emotions crashed over Jacob. “But I failed.”

Remiel stopped, his gaze softening into sympathy. “There was nothing you could do. Don’t you understand that yet?”

Frustrated, Jacob fisted his hands. “So what was all this? An exercise in futility?”

“You requested more time, and it was granted. But it wasn’t allowed for Samuel’s sake.” Remiel hooked his hand around Jacob’s arm. “It was for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Samuel had to make his own decisions.” Remiel spoke slowly as if speaking to a child. “He had to choose—just as you made your choice.”

Fear gripped Jacob, its fingers tightening their hold on him. He searched the shadows for the dark creatures. “Are they going to take me away now?” Frantically, he looked for the shadowy creatures. “Don’t I get a choice?”

“You made your choice.”

“But I wasted my life.”

“Yahweh never allows waste. Come, Jacob.”

Once more, he drew back, but the force pulling him was too strong. “But I don’t deserve anything.”

Remiel smiled, and his face shone like a star. “Exactly.”