Paul turned toward her mom. “Danki, for having me. I've been looking forward to it all afternoon.”
He took the platter of chicken from Rachel's hands and set it on the table. Rachel turned off the stovetop and double-checked the counters to make sure she hadn't overlooked anything. Then she joined them at the table.
Paul pulled Rachel's seat out and took the chair across from hers. He had taken his jacket off and she couldn't help but notice how his tan arms made a bold contrast against his white shirt.
“Paul would you mind asking the blessing?” her mom said, once they were all seated.
“O Lord God, heavenly Father, bless us and these thy gifts, which we shall accept from thy tender goodness. Give us food and drink also for our souls unto life eternal, and make us partakers of thy heavenly table through Jesus Christ. Amen. Our Father.”
It was the most beautiful prayer she’d ever heard.
After passing around the dishes, they ate in silence for a few moments.
Paul only took a few bites before he set his fork down and met her mother's gaze. “This is delicious.”
“Rachel did it all. I can’t take any credit,” Mom told him, smiling.
Rachel's cheeks burned in response.
“I kept hearing about it, but now I'm finding out for myself, jah? You’re an excellent cook, Rachel.”
She’d become used to the Amish slang, but his compliment with that accent, intended for her, made her heart flutter.
Amish women had to be good cooks. They were all homemakers, at least from what she'd read. She could never compete with that. Images of herself as his Amish wife filled her mind. She cleared the crazy notion.
I can’t think that way.
She took a small bite of chicken, after cutting it into the smallest portion possible. Sweat warmed her scalp as her thoughts raced forward to after dinner possibilities. To them alone. Together.
Picking up her glass, she took a sip of water then set it back on the table, but this time closer to his. Something about tonight made her feel like a young girl in love for the first time. And she was enjoying every minute of it.
Paul was staring at her when she glanced up, and she held his gaze. It was something she would never have done ordinarily, especially with him. But in this moment she felt invincible, until her fork slipped from her fingers and clattered across her plate. Rachel's cheeks burned as she reclaimed it.
“You're coming along with the siding.”
Thank you, Mom.
“Jah, I'll finish in the morning. Then I'll start the screened-in porch, and I plan to have everything else completed by the end of the week.”
After taking her last bite, Rachel excused herself to wash the dishes. Did that mean he wouldn't be here working every day? She ran sudsy hot water in the sink, thankful for the chance to escape for a few moments.
Not expecting the thrill that coursed through her veins when Paul moved in the place next to her, she awkwardly grabbed the hand towel.
Rachel shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to help.” His gaze locked on hers, the faint lines around his mouth slackened. Then his lips curved up in a slight smile.
“It looks like you two have this. I'm going to take a much needed break.” Mom kissed her cheek. “Thank you for dinner, sweetheart. It was so good.”
“Absolutely delicious, jah?”
“Thank you.”
Heat rose up her neck as she scrubbed each dish with more care than usual. As she handed them to Paul, his hand grazed against hers time and time again leaving behind a trail of longing. Her imagination was without restraint. They were standing so close, his clean earthy scent made her head swim.
“It’s nice ... you helping. My dad used to wash dishes with me.” Her dish rag slowed over the plate. “I don’t know why I shared that.” She usually avoided talking about her dad.
“Because you miss him.”
“Yeah.” She tipped her head up to look at him and prayed he wouldn’t voice the questions swirling in his eyes.
His smile was soft, understanding. “Then I’m glad I offered.”
The thrill escalated higher.
After the dishes were dried and put away, she crossed her arms and faced him fully. His eyes, when they met hers, were like the sea's tide drawing her under.
She took a subtle step to the side, breaking the spell he held over her. “Would you like to sit on the porch?”
He propped an elbow on the counter. “That sounds nice.”
The dish towel fell unwillingly from her fingers. He reached for it and placed it into her hands.
“Thank you.” Her gaze scanned his face, examining every faint freckle, every dimple. She imagined running her hand across his freshly shaven chin. What's wrong with me?
Once outside, he moved past her and took a seat on the swing and patted the seat, inviting her to join him. She sat as softly as she could, trying not to touch him though everything in her screamed to.
They rocked in silence for a while. A soft neigh and occasional shift of hooves stirred in the distance. He pushed the swing back and forth with his foot. Being this close to him was intoxicating. She pushed a stray hair away from her face and buried her hand beneath her leg.
“How do you like living in Lancaster County?”
She licked her dry lips. “I do.” Now that you’re talking to me again.
“Have you been to Hershey Park yet?”
The man she looked at now was so different than the man she encountered that first day. More friendly. More open. More handsome every time she looked at him.
When their gazes collided, she found it hard to breathe. But she pressed through the tiny bit of air left lingering in her lungs. “No, not yet. Have you ever been?”
He looked at her with a peculiar expression. “No, but I'm sure it's fun.”
He was Amish. Of course he hadn't been to an amusement park. That was a stupid question.
“I have traveled to Hershey on several occasions and seen some of the rides from a distance.”
She laughed softly and looked up at the stars. “I visited an amusement park every year growing up.”
“Really? Which one?”
Rachel ordered herself to concentrate on his questions, and not on the man sitting close enough to graze her arm every time he gave the swing a gentle push. “Disney World in Florida.”
“Jah. I've heard of that. It's big. And has many places to visit.”
“We lived about seven hours away. We spent a lot of weeks in Orlando. Walking the long streets, taking in all the sights.” Her daddy standing next to her waiting in line, his gentle tug on her sleeve pulling her forward. It was as if it were yesterday. “There was never enough time to do it all.”
“It sounds like you miss it.”
She missed him. Every day. Every hour. She glanced at Paul. “Yes, I miss those days a lot. We take too many things for granted. Even the smallest of things may one day be the very thing we miss the most.”
Paul took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Warmth penetrated through her fingers, shooting sparks up her arm. His touch captured her full attention. “Those are wise words to live by.”
He released her hand and they sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “It's getting late. I should go.”
Rachel stood, rocking the swing with her motion. “I'll be right back.” She returned a few seconds later with the wrapped dessert and handed it to him.
“Danki for inviting me. It was delicious. You’re a wonderful cook.” He leaned into Rachel pressing his arm against hers. “I know my aunt will appreciate the pie. And I'm glad I’ll get another piece.” He took a few steps and turned. “Make sure to tell your mom gut nacht for me.”
“I will.”
He hesitated at the bottom of the steps. “I had a really nice time.”
Standing by the door, she waited until his buggy disappeared. She stretched out her fingers, the fe
el of his hand in hers still lingering. A piece of her broken heart poured out tonight, a very tiny piece, but it was exposed, and she hadn't even realized it until it was over.
She had given Paul a window into the deepest, darkest part of her heart. And for the very first time, though it still hurt, thinking about her daddy didn't feel like it was strangling her.
Twenty-One
As Rachel served breakfast to her customers, every memory of last night replayed itself. The time flew by as the first crowd came and went and then at twelve, started all over with the lunch crowd. Eggs and bacon became plates of pasta. Toast became sandwiches. And cups of coffee became Cokes and milkshakes.
Rachel was refilling a drink in the kitchen when Kelli snuck up behind her and propped a hand on her hip. “Why are you in such a good mood?”
“No reason.”
Kelli laughed and turned her attention to the salads on the counter. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll find out soon enough.”
If only Rachel could confide in her. She couldn’t though—at least not yet. Maybe never.
Rachel glanced through the circular glass panel at the top of the door before she pushed it open. She stopped in her tracks when Paul and an Amish girl sat down at one of her tables.
Her head spun as nausea and dizziness swept through her at the same time.
She set the drink tray down and grabbed the counter to steady herself. After taking several deep breaths, she took the tray and found the strength to push the door open that led to the dining room. She delivered her drinks a few tables down. Lips pressed tight in an effort to hide the trembling, she focused ahead.
God, please be with me.
The girl sitting across from him wasn’t at the singing. Of course she was beautiful, with dark brown hair, ivory skin, and probably perfect in all her Amish ways. Something Rachel could never compete with.
Rachel approached the table, her gait slow and cumbersome. She tucked her hands in her apron. “Paul?”
“Hullo, Rachel. How are you?”
“I’m ... fine.” Her voice wavered. “Thank you.” She pushed her lips into a tight smile and clung to her order pad with such intensity the paper crinkled.
“I knew you were working, so I asked for your table. I wanted you to meet Mary.” He kept his eyes on the girl.
Rachel had gone from a complete high to a complete low in a matter of seconds, and her body hadn’t caught up with her emotions yet.
“Hi, Mary.”
Knowing there was no way out of this, Rachel stood in place drowning in desperation. She should have sent Kelli to take their order. Why had she thought she could handle this?
“It’s her birthday. I promised to bring her to lunch.” Paul leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “This is her favorite restaurant.”
“How sweet of you, Paul. Happy Birthday, Mary.”
“Danki.” Mary's genuine smile made her feel worse. Then the girl glanced at Paul with admiration.
I can’t do this.
She could get Kelli to take over anyway, and she’d tell Ms. Mavis she was physically ill. No. Paul would ask questions. What if he figured it out?
Rachel thrust out her chin and scribbled their order onto the black pad, the rest of their conversation a garble of Pennsylvania Dutch.
Escaping to the kitchen, Rachel stood against the counter, trying to calm her raging thoughts.
Kelli put her arm around Rachel. “What’s wrong?”
Rachel tried to blink away her tears but one escaped. Facing the counter, she cleared her throat. “Nothing. I’m just tired. We’ve been so busy today.” Rachel hated lying, but she couldn’t tell Kelli the truth.
“Do you need a break?”
“I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll just fix something to drink.” Rachel wiped her face with her sleeve.
“Okay, if you’re sure. Let me know if you change your mind. I can handle your tables.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”
Rachel stayed busy with her other tables and only visited Paul and his girlfriend to take their orders and deliver them. She couldn't. They talked and laughed like they'd been together forever, killing her more with every glance in their direction.
She was polite, nothing more.
Finally, they finished their meal. Rachel pushed her feet toward them, one grueling step at a time. Raising one of the hands clenched at her sides, she delivered their bill.
“It was nice to meet you, Mary.” Her voice didn't match her feelings, injured and begrudging, and she allowed a reluctant grin. “I hope you have a wonderful birthday.”
“Danki. It’s so nice to finally meet you too. Mamm wanted to say danki for the delicious apple pie you sent home with Paul last night.”
“The pie?” The relief in her voice was obvious, but she didn’t care. “You’re ... you're Paul’s cousin?”
Paul chuckled and heat rushed up her neck.
“Jah.” Paul placed the money into her palm keeping his hand in hers just a bit longer than necessary, then winked. “See ya later, Rachel.”
“Bye.” The word came out so soft, she wasn’t sure he heard.
She had to have one last glance.
No, she shouldn't. She couldn't.
She gave in.
He had stopped at the front entrance and stood there motionless, watching her.
That smile, the one that penetrated through her soul, took her breath.
Then he disappeared behind the door.
Rachel reached the register and unfolded the money. A piece of paper was wrapped inside. She tried to swallow, but instead took a deep breath and allowed the moment to fill every inch of her. He wrote me a note. No. It must be some mistake. Maybe he gave me his shopping list by accident. She opened it and scanned it quickly, then started again at the beginning and read slowly wanting to savor each word.
Lunch was good, but your cooking is better. Looking forward to Sunday. Your friend, Paul.
Rachel read it once as the flutter in her belly grew. She placed the money in the register and read the note again before sliding it into her apron pocket and returning to the kitchen.
In a daze, she made it until two. Pulling the ponytail holder from her hair, she climbed in her car and drove home, the convertible top down. Her hair blew in the wind. Was she dreaming? Rachel felt for the note in her pocket. It was still there.
Kelli insisted on coming over after witnessing Rachel’s near breakdown. Rachel wanted so badly to talk to her about Paul, because she knew more about the Amish.
If only she could tell her everything.
Paul’s buggy wasn’t parked in the yard when Rachel returned home. For the time being, Rachel could still pretend that this was real. If he were here, her reality would be forced to come down from the cloud that had settled under her.
Rachel ran upstairs to shower and change into a sweatshirt with a pair of shorts. Kelli’s red jeep pulled into the yard a few minutes later.
Rachel met her at the door. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
They climbed the loft ladder in the barn. Kelli followed, her smile glued in place. “Wow, this is so cool.” Kelli's blond ponytail slung back and forth with the motion.
Rachel’s mouth hung agape as she recognized the changes herself. She hadn’t been up there since that rainy day Paul caught her reading the Amish romance.
Kelli broke into her thoughts. “Did you do this yourself?”
“No, ... my mom must have.” But she couldn't have. A wooden plaque, carved with her name, hung directly above the bench. A small table with a lantern and two chairs were set in the other corner. Throw pillows and a new rug she didn't recognize were the only indication of her mom's touch.
“This is like your own hangout, huh?”
“Yeah, it was my mom’s idea.” Rachel removed the plaque from the wall. “She must have bought this in town at the flea market.” Why hadn’t she mentioned this? “Come on, let’s go in. I wanted to straighten your hair.”<
br />
Kelli pulled her fingers through a few strands. “Straighten my hair?”
“Yeah. I have a hot iron.”
She had planned to go to cosmetology school. But things were different now. Rachel didn't know what she wanted. Not anymore. Her life had been planned out perfectly, until that day. Then everything changed. And nothing had been the same since.
Once in the house, Rachel led her to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
“I'm always hungry.”
They grabbed some chocolate chip cookies and rushed upstairs to her room.
“Wow, that's an insane wall of pictures. Are you into photography?”
“My dad gave me a camera for my fourteenth birthday.” She exhaled a lungful of air as she plugged in the straightener and then walked toward the display scattered across the wall. “It's a collection from up until last year. I don't really play with it much anymore.”
“You should. These are really good.”
“Thanks.” Rachel studied a few of the pictures, the memories rushing back like a thousand piercings mixed with a steady torrent of gratitude. What if she didn't have the hundreds of pictures to stare at every night as she drifted off to sleep?
She zeroed in on a picture of her daddy, standing tall on a ladder, working on an addition to the garage. He was always building, designing. And he was good. Mom always said he was the hardest working man she'd ever known. Then her gaze shifted to Jordan. Her best friend. He'd kept his distance since the funeral. It bothered her that he chose to stay away, because she hadn’t understood. It hurt for a long time, but it wasn’t his place to be there for her.
“Is your mom a designer or something? Everything's so beautiful. I absolutely love your room. I love your whole house.”
Rachel cleared the memories for the moment. She'd come back to them later. She always did. Every day. “Yeah, she used to. I guess it will always be in her blood.”
Kelli's eyes widened. “She's really good.”
“Comes so natural for her.” Rachel shrugged. “Maybe some of it will rub off on me.”
“Before school starts, I’m making a trip to Philadelphia to go school shopping. You want to go?”
Chasing Paradise (A Paradise Novel Book 1) Page 11
