Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel by Leanna Ellis Page B

somber nod, her eyes wide and watchful. She offered no smile, but her expression held no malice either. So much had changed since those innocent days.
    “Welcome back to Promise, Samuel.”
    A steep barrier separated them now, whether she knew it or not, and that barrier was a knowledge that no one in this Amish district suspected. But a wider world existed, even if he didn’t value much in it. For a second, he wondered what would have happened if he’d never left Promise, if Jacob had never died, if his own innocence had remained intact. Would Naomi and he have taken the next steps in life together?
    He could never go back to being that boy again. Still, the fact remained that he’d left and never said good-bye to Naomi. He could have written her. But she was the writer, not him. What would he have said? Putting words on the page was sometimes as difficult as making sense of words stuck in books. How could he have explained all that had happened? Speaking of it, writing about it, probing it was like ripping a bandage off a wound and picking a scab until it oozed. It was better to forget the time they’d shared and stuff the experiences he’d had over the last few years. It was different now.
    “Did any eggs break?” she asked.
    “I hope not,” he said with a rush of uncertainty, feeling edgy and uncomfortable. “Here.”
    She acted calmer than he felt. Setting the bucket on the counter, she began to count the eggs. Was she angry at his silence over the years? Maybe she hadn’t cared as much as he had. Maybe she had moved on and was seeing someone else now—which somehow eased the pressure of guilt in his chest. Yet it also stirred something else. Or maybe she was here because he was, because she’d heard he was back.
    “I’ll need two extra eggs,” Hannah told Naomi, then she explained, “Naomi is here to help me with the babies and around the house.”
    “Of course.” He was a fool to think she was there for him. He felt as if he should say something. “And we’re very thankful for your help.” He breathed in the warm scents of eggs, bacon, and what he hoped to be biscuits in the oven. “And very grateful for your good cooking last night.”
    Her cheeks stained the color of summer strawberries. “I’m glad you liked it.”
    Their gazes locked and for a moment they were young teenagers sitting on the creek bank. Samuel cleared his throat. He needed out of the kitchen, something to do. “Where are my nephews?”
    “I’ll get them,” Naomi offered. She handed the extra eggs to Hannah and left.
    Samuel drew a deeper, more relaxed breath and peered over at the fluffy biscuits Hannah pulled out of the oven. She smiled. “Go ahead and take one.”
    As he bit into the fluffy, buttery richness, he groaned with pure pleasure.
    “I’m glad you’re so easy to please.”
    He grinned.
    Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Naomi appeared again, cradling a bundle in each arm. She looked flushed and pleased. He moved closer and peered down into the little faces. Their eyes were closed, pink mouths relaxed, cheeks round and full. They looked healthy and strong, not that he knew much about babies. Still, they were fresh and pink-skinned and beautiful.
    “Would you like to hold them?” Naomi asked.
    He looked to the mother for confirmation. “If it’s all right with Hannah.”
    “Of course.” She laughed as she scraped scrambled eggs into a bowl. “But you best sit down. They can be a lot to handle.”
    He settled into a chair at the table, and not knowing what else to do, he held his arms out awkwardly.
    “Here.” Naomi leaned close. “Bend your arm.” She touched the soft place inside his elbow and slipped one swaddled baby into the crook of his arm. She tucked his arm under and around the baby.
    His gaze rose to meet Naomi’s and he said, “Do you still write?”
    A blush flash-burned her cheeks. She backed away, glancing quickly at Hannah, then fussing over the baby she still held.
    Why had he