The others all nodded.
She took a deep breath while deciding on a song. And then the words to Redeemer, by Nicole C. Mullen came and she got lost in the moment with Jesus. When she opened her eyes, a few stood and greeted her with a hug.
Kelly nudged her after she took her seat. “Wow! I had no idea you could sing like that.”
Heat burned Rachel's neck. “Thank you.”
The crowd moved outside, one by one. She stayed next to Kelli, Belinda on her other side. “That was a beautiful song. A great one to end our singing.”
Kelli hugged Belinda. “We're going to get going.”
Rachel accepted a hug from Belinda. “Thank you for inviting me. I had a great time.”
“You will come again, jah?”
She nodded, but then Paul came to mind. She may never come again.
“Did you have fun?” Kelli asked when she pulled onto the highway.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I admire them for the way they choose to live. It doesn’t seem to bother them at all.”
“Yeah, I do too. Growing up plain makes it easier. It would be difficult to give up the things we're used to.”
Her rising curiosity of one particular Amish man had her speaking before she had a chance to think it through. “My mom hired a young man to renovate our house. He's Amish.”
“Really? Who? Was he at the singing?”
“No, I didn't see him.” She looked through the window, hoping Kelli wouldn't hear her true feelings in her tone. “His name is Paul Fischer.”
“Oh yeah, the construction guy. I know him.”
She twisted her fingers with indecision for only a moment before blurting the question that demanded freedom. “What do you know about him?”
“I’ve only spoken to him a few times, but he's nice.” Kelli flipped the visor up. “I would've thought he’d be married by now.”
Rachel cleared the lump materializing in her throat. “Isn’t he too young to be married? He’s only eighteen.” The thought of Paul married made her sick. Physically sick.
Kelli shrugged. “The Amish are usually married by the time they’re eighteen.”
Eighteen? “Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“He’s probably engaged. Anna has tried forever to get him to court her.”
Rachel's stomach lurched. “Anna? Have I met her?” The emptiness in her belly deepened.
“She was there tonight. The grumpy one.” Kelli's words sank like a boulder into Rachel’s soul.
It was her.
Rachel tried tuning in to the soft rock music streaming from the radio, still contemplating her decision about going to the singing. What if Paul found out? If her reading an Amish book upset him, she could only imagine how mad he'd be when he found out she went to one of their parties.
14
Rachel skimmed through her closet, searching for something to wear to the Central Market. She wanted something more modest, more Amish, but there was nothing. Everything was bright, bold, trendy. She settled on a pair of cropped denim pants and a pink top with a sleeveless jean jacket.
Paul didn’t work on Saturdays and wouldn't come today. And then the truth hit her square in the chest—she missed him.
At least she wouldn’t have to face him after their confrontation.
They couldn’t avoid each other forever, not while he worked at the house. It had been over a week since they'd spoken. Maybe he’d forgotten about the book and things could go back to normal. As long as he hadn't found out about the singing.
The cool breeze left goose bumps on her arms while she raced to the car. Did Pennsylvania ever get as hot and humid as Florida? It had felt pretty close Friday. But not this morning.
Rachel drove into town, the radio playing her favorite Toby Mac song, just not as loud as usual. She slowed as a horse-drawn buggy pulled onto the highway ahead of her. Self-conscious, she lowered her music even more as she passed. It isn’t wrong to pass them. “That’s why they use the middle lane.” She muttered under her breath while guilt afflicted her.
Minutes later, Rachel pulled into the crowded parking lot. She found an empty spot and glanced at the clock. I’m early.
Rachel opened the wooden door and searched for Kelli as the scent of grilled sausage and onions assaulted her senses. Counters lined each wall and she scanned the first few tables with an assortment of cookware, quilts, furniture, and clothing. Amish men and women greeted the browsing customers.
Rachel roamed by the first few tables filled with wooden birdhouses, windmills, and handmade dolls. One particular item held her curiosity. She lifted the oddly cute object. An outhouse with three words inscribed on the bottom of the door: Shhh, open quietly.
She glanced at the seller whose beard twitched. In the restaurant, she'd served several young Amish men with beards. Why didn’t Paul have one? “Is it okay to open this?”
The young man's eyes twinkled. “Jah. But set it down first.”
Rachel expected to find a small wooden toilet inside. These people were so talented. She pulled on the tiny, black handle and the wood exploded across the table. She jumped back releasing a small yelp. “I broke it.” She picked up the scattered pieces and detected a mouse trap set inside the four walls, rather than the wooden toilet she'd expected to find.
The man laughed so hard he couldn’t speak.
She giggled. “Very funny.”
“Jah? You got it gut.”
How many people had seen the joke played out on her? Flushing, Rachel scanned the room, her gaze catching the back of a young man who'd already rounded the corner. Paul? No. All the Amish men were dressed similar. She could’ve been mistaken.
But at the sound of her name coming from a rich, deep voice, she knew she wasn't.
Paul was standing at his table selling some wood carvings at the Central Market when Rachel arrived. She stopped just a few tables down from him, but hadn’t noticed him yet. Would she speak to him? Maybe he could talk to her. That would be the polite thing to do. No, he couldn’t.
He hadn't talked to her in over a week. Not since the day he said those horrible things to her. This wasn't the time or the place to apologize.
Most of his family and friends were also there today, so it would be best to keep his distance, not risk curious eyes. His fascination with her was already too much. She was all he thought of lately. He would never be able to hide his emotions from his family. They knew him too well.
His cousin Troy approached his table. “Wiegehts?”
“Gut. Hey, do you want to earn some extra money? I have to leave for a bit.”
“Go, I’ve got things covered, jah?”
Paul could always count on Troy.
Rachel didn't seem to be paying close attention to the tables. Instead touched item after item like she didn’t know what to do with herself. He'd made the right decision to avoid her. What would he possibly say anyway? Then she turned and left the building.
Why was she leaving so soon? He had already given his table to Troy.
He opened the main door. She stood on the sidewalk facing the parking lot, but then moved to the side of the building, toward the wooded area. He hurried through the building and pushed past people on his way to the back. He reached the back door and hastened through the narrow alley that led to the other side of the building.
From the alley's depths, he spotted Rachel as she inched closer to the woods, and bending, she spoke softly to a small rabbit that scampered deeper into the trees. She wore those same flip-flops, and her feet were wet from the overgrown grass. Did she not own a pair of safe shoes? Memories of that Friday flooded back. How he'd lifted and carried her to the porch. Her soft skin, the feel of her in his arms as she fell into him, the adorable, confused look in her dark brown eyes.
Out of nowhere, an Englischer appeared and advanced toward her, a young man Paul didn’t recognize.
From the wood's edge, Rachel turned to walk closer to the back of the building, but when the strange man called her n
ame, her face seemed to glow in response.
Had she been waiting for him? Was he her boyfriend?
Paul stopped as heaviness settled in his body. It was like a vice closing around his heart, tightening with each second.
The two were speaking but the wind whistling through the alley overpowered their voices.
A desire to retreat to a quiet place to think drew him, but he couldn't move.
15
Rachel recognized Jason from the restaurant instantly. “Oh, hi.” Rachel put on a smile trying to conceal her alarm.
His eyes searched her, and mental fuzziness gripped her when she realized her mistake. Too many yards separated her from the building, and she took a few jerky steps forward. There were no windows. No doors. Just a chain link fence that connected its rear corner to the wall of dark forest behind her, enclosing the space she occupied.
There was an alley, but no way was she going in there. Not with this guy trailing her.
She needed to move toward the front but would have to walk around Jason to get there. With another awkward step, Rachel inched closer to the back of the building. “Did you need something?”
“I thought you came out here to talk to me, since I called your name. I overheard you at the restaurant Thursday. I knew you were coming and hoped we could spend the day together.” His gaze moved from her face to her torso to her legs in slow motion and then back again, an arrogant expression inching across his features.
She looked toward the front, longing for the escape it ensured. If only she could get past him. “I can’t. I already have plans for today.”
He didn't speak or budge, but kept his gaze locked on hers. She quickened her pace, but before she could get past him, he grabbed her arm with his thin, clammy fingers.
Her heartbeat thrashed in her ears. “What are you doing?”
And then the gap between them closed.
When she tried to pull away, he dug his fingers into her flesh as he pulled her closer to him, closer to the edge of the trees.
She twisted her body, but slipped and fell into him. “Let go of me.” Her stomach heaved.
“Rachel?”
Paul?
Jason halted but tightened his grip as she twisted back to see Paul crossing the lawn from the back of the building. He jogged toward them, rapidly closing the distance, not slowing until he’d laid hands on her.
Paul secured an arm across the back of her shoulders and pulled her toward him. “Could I borrow her a minute?”
“Get lost, Amish boy. We’re in the middle of something.” Jason gave a tug, but she yanked back, broke free, and leaned into the safety of Paul's arm. “Fine. I'll catch up with you later, beautiful.” With a sneer, he walked away.
Paul's hand slipped to her waist, and he kept his grip tight around her as he guided her in the opposite direction. Once they reached the rear of the building, he glanced over his shoulder before leading her to the middle of the alleyway and stopping. Rachel stared wide-eyed into the dead-end area. She would've been trapped. But then she noticed the door, the one Paul must've come through.
Rachel couldn't believe Paul was standing here—holding her. She had hoped to see him, to apologize, but this was not how things were supposed to go. Her hands were trembling, her head was aching, and at any minute that boiling rolling around in her stomach could—
Paul lifted her chin, persuading her to look at him. “Are you all right?”
Fear crinkled the edges of his wide eyes. It was the same fear soaring through her veins. She didn’t want to let him know how frightened she felt. But what if he hadn’t been there? What would she have done? Fighting back the nausea, she took several slow, deep breaths. She stared at him feeling dizzy, out of balance. A whirlwind of frightening images played in her mind. Jason dragging her through the forest, leaving her broken body for the vultures. She had watched too many movies.
Paul pulled her into a tender embrace that took her breath. “Rachel?”
The feeling was something she would never forget—the warmth of his body, his strong fingers stroking her head. He held onto her a few moments longer before she found her voice. “I’m okay.”
When he pulled back, he kept his hands connected to her arms, his hard, callused hands a welcomed reminder of his strength. “Did you know him?”
She looked over her shoulder as another chill passed over her. “No, not really ... he's visiting his aunt.”
“I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to interrupt you at first.”
Rachel bit her lip when she finally allowed her gaze to meet his. “He keeps asking me to go out with him.”
His brows turned downward in displeasure. Gone was the compassion she'd just witnessed and in its place was vigilant determination. “What were you doing out here?”
“I’m meeting a friend. I was waiting for her.” Tears burned her eyes, and she lowered her gaze.
“Do you want me to drive you home?”
She wanted to say yes. “No. We’ve been planning this all week. She’s probably waiting for me inside.”
The concern in his eyes was real. “I'll walk with you to the front.”
“Where did you come from?”
He abruptly averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “I was standing near the back door and saw you.”
She could've sworn he was struggling to maintain his composure. Why, she couldn't be sure. She pretended not to notice. “Oh … I didn’t know you were there. Thanks for waiting, for making sure …” she stopped, unable to finish the horrific thought.
They walked to the front in silence. He paused when they reached the door and turned to face her, taking each of her arms. “Please promise you won’t walk out here alone again.” The gentle warning had the expected effect, but her fears must've been evident because he didn't let go.
“Don’t worry.” A nervous chuckle escaped her lips. “I won’t.”
He held the door for her before walking past her in the opposite direction. She followed his diminishing figure until Kelli touched her shoulder. “There you are. Where were you? I thought I saw your car.”
“I’m sorry.” Rachel wrapped her arms tight across her middle. The unseasonably cool air stirred through the building as she entered. Unexpected chills whipped through her body.
“Are you okay?”
“No.” She glanced over her shoulder in the direction Paul had disappeared. A mixture of panic, disappointment, and longing consumed her. “It’s a long story.”
What if Jason was still in the building somewhere, waiting for her? She trembled. She wanted to go home, crawl in bed, and cry until she fell asleep but was too afraid to leave. Mom would be in Philadelphia for the rest of the afternoon.
They walked through the market, but she had trouble focusing. Instead, she searched for Paul and Jason the entire time, both with different approaches.
The scent of onions and grilled sausage no longer appealed to her. The only thing she found comfort in was that they were among the Amish and Paul was still here. Somewhere. She searched every face. Why did she tell him she was fine? She was anything but fine. She wanted to stay near him. It felt safe.
She held her waist with a white-knuckled grip, her gaze darting in every direction.
Amish women at a nearby table set out handmade dolls. Rachel could make out colors, but not details.
“Do you want to get some lunch?” Kelli linked her arm through Rachel's.
“Sure.”
They sat across from each other at the market’s restaurant, and Rachel explained what happened and how Paul showed up. “Maybe I'll go on a trip of my own the next time that Jason guy's in town.”
“I’ve never known him to act that way. He’s always been kind of quiet. We should report him.”
“No. I don't want to do something irrational. I have an overactive imagination.”
“I don't know. The way you make it sound, I'm not so sure of his intentions.”
Rachel shook her head. “Really. It just
scared me more than anything.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Why couldn’t she find Paul? Why hadn't she taken him up on his offer to drive her home? And what if she was wrong and Jason was still waiting for her?
16
Paul had wanted to reach out to Rachel when her eyes had filled with tears. It cut him deeply. Instead of shrinking away from him, her eyes locked with his and spilled over with ... trust. It had taken him by surprise. Especially after the way he'd treated her. And she barely knew him.
The Central Market filled quickly, and he moved through the crowd, his anger swelling. He stuffed a fried onion into his mouth, swallowed Coke from his glass, and leaned against the wall.
What would’ve happened if he hadn’t showed up? How dare that audacious swine frighten her? Images of the Englisch guy forcing her into the woods filled his head and his glass shattered. Coke and shards of glass sprayed across the floor. Blood leaked from the cuts across his palm. A stinging sensation stretched from his wrist to his fingertips.
Thomas slapped his shoulder. “Was in der welt, Paul? You look feraikled?”
Paul forced a laugh. Disgusted was the exact word he would've used. “It was an accident, Thomas.”
“You squeezed the glass to busting, jah?”
Paul ignored his friend's rhetorical question and focused on hiding the blood trickling down his hand. “I have to clean this up, before someone slips.”
“I’ll grab the sweeper. Take care of your cut.”
Thomas left and Paul glanced at the table where Rachel sat with Kelli. Impatience stormed through him. How long could he follow Rachel without being spotted? He felt like a stalker. How was he any better than the other guy? Wasn’t this what he’d been doing earlier, trailing her, watching her every move? Even though she'd needed him in the end, it didn’t matter. It was wrong. What if she'd accepted his invitation to take her home? At least he would be able to keep her safe. What would his family say if they were found walking together?
Chasing Paradise Page 8
