her. To shape her choices.
But would helping Naomi put Christina in harm’s way? Had it already? Christina touched her arm, tender from landing hard on it when Dylan pushed her out of the path of the racing car.
None of that mattered. She had to help Naomi.
Christina patted Naomi’s hand, making a silent promise that she’d protect the woman. To help her not let tonight define who she was.
Dear God, help me do right by this young woman.
Dylan drummed his fingers on the counter-height surface outside of the exam room in the rear of the Apple Creek Healthcare Clinic. He understood the young Amish woman’s need for privacy, but he was eager to learn who had dropped her off at the clinic because that same person tried to run Christina over with his vehicle.
It didn’t make sense. Someone cared enough to drop Naomi off here, but had recklessly aimed their vehicle at the physician meant to help her. Clearly whoever it was wasn’t thinking. Period.
Or perhaps they hadn’t realized the figure walking toward them was the physician. Either way, they were reckless and needed to be found.
The cold fingers of dread scraped across the back of his neck. What if he hadn’t hopped into his truck to see if Christina needed a ride with the approaching storm? She had refused his offer at the diner, and she could be stubborn. She had proven that by giving him the cold shoulder ever since he moved back to Apple Creek in January. Five months of polite greetings on the street. Nothing more. Nothing less.
He supposed he deserved that. He had broken up with Christina when they were both at Genwego State. She’d been an undergraduate and he was finishing up law school. He had told her he wanted to move to Buffalo to be an FBI agent and had no plans of settling down, least of all in Apple Creek. The breakup had been both efficient and cruel.
But life had a way of getting back at him, dishing out a hearty helping of cruelty. Now here he was serving as an interim professor at his alma mater, on extended leave from the FBI. He hadn’t been the kind of agent he had hoped to be, and his partner, Special Agent Nora Reed, had paid the ultimate price. And when an opening came up at the law school, he figured, why not? It gave him something to do besides ruminate over his failings.
Dylan shook his head, trying to dispel the dark clouds forever hovering over him. He paced the small space outside the three exam rooms, eager to expend his restless energy, eager to hear Naomi’s version of events. He rubbed the back of his neck, grateful that tonight he had been in the right place at the right time. Christina had nearly been run over. His childhood self might have thanked God for the act of divine intervention, but his tough upbringing didn’t give him many opportunities to thank anyone, let alone God.
The floorboards creaked behind the closed door and Dylan watched the door handle turn. Christina appeared, directing Naomi to the bathroom. When Dylan started to ask Christina what was going on, she shook her head. A few minutes later, Naomi emerged, holding wet garments and looking like any other teen fresh out of the shower, with wet hair and comfy clothes.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
Christina opened her mouth to say something when the front door crashed open. “Hello?” a female’s voice hollered down the hall. “Hello, I’m looking for Naomi Mullet. Is Naomi here?” The young woman sounded strained as she drew closer.
Recognition dawned on Naomi’s face, with a hint of relief. “Cheryl.” Naomi moved toward her friend’s voice and stumbled over a lump in the carpet. Dylan grabbed her elbow to steady her.
Christina pushed a chair over. “Sit here. I’ll bring Cheryl back.”
Naomi nodded, relief and exhaustion playing on her pretty face.
Cheryl charged into the back of the clinic dressed in blue jeans and a university sweatshirt. Her red hair was pulled into a long ponytail, her freckles prominent on her pale skin. Relief lit her heavily made-up eyes. “There you are! I was so worried.” She gave her Amish friend’s sweatpants and sweatshirt a once over. “What happened to your clothes?”
Christina watched the young woman intently. “Were you at the party with Naomi?” To Christina’s credit, there was no hint of blame or accusation in her voice. During his law enforcement career, Dylan noticed adults tended to blame teens first, ask questions second.
“Yes.” Cheryl’s lips quivered. “I drove her to the party. Naomi didn’t plan on staying.” A smile touched the corners of her glossed lips. “Usually when Naomi used to go to parties with me she tried to fit in.”
“You mean, she didn’t wear her Amish clothes?” Dylan asked, slipping into FBI interrogation mode.
“No, she didn’t. She’d dress casual. Like me. I’m not Amish.” Cheryl giggled nervously. “Lots of Amish kids break the rules. They’re trying to figure things out.”
“You’ve heard of Rumspringa?” Naomi spoke up. “I lost my way for a little while. I did things—” her voice cracked “—I’m not proud of. But I’m determined to live the Amish Way.”
“Then why go to the party?” Christina asked, studying the young Amish woman with her intense brown eyes.
“I heard Lloyd Burkholder was supposed to be there. I needed to talk to him.” Naomi groaned. “Please tell me he didn’t show up.”
Cheryl shrugged. “I don’t know. I was talking to some friends outside the barn. By the time I went in, I couldn’t find you. Someone told me you didn’t feel well and Ben Reist was taking you to the clinic.”
“Ben?” Naomi’s eyebrows drew together. “I sort of remember. Maybe not...” She bit her lower lip. “Does he have short blond hair?” She touched her own head for emphasis.
Excitement drummed in Dylan’s veins. They had a possible name for the driver who nearly ran Christina over.
“What kind of kid is Ben Reist?” Dylan asked, his tone harsher than he intended. Naomi looked like a scared rabbit and he didn’t want her to dart.
Cheryl laughed, a sound void of humor. “Good kid. I was surprised he was at the party. Not really the partying kind.”
“Do you think he meant to hurt me?” All that Naomi’s question didn’t ask tore at Dylan.
“No way. Ben’s a good guy. Someone said he could tell you seemed out of it and he wanted to get you out of there.” Cheryl’s eyes grew wide. “As soon as I heard, I jumped into the car. I figured you had too much to drink. The party was getting out of control anyway. All the kids were bailing. They were kinda freaked that the sheriff would show up once some underage drunk Amish girl was dropped at the healthcare clinic.”
“I believe she may have drugs in her system,” Christina said, matter-of-factly.
“Drugs?” Cheryl’s voice cracked.
“I didn’t take drugs.” Naomi said without much conviction. “I only had a beer. And I don’t remember finishing it. Dr. Christina thinks someone could have put something in my drink.”
Dylan
