She stopped mid-run and bent at the waist, her chest heaving. “I'm in love with him.”
Warmth crept up her neck, and she stretched four fingers across her lips realizing she'd spoken those words out loud. She checked her surroundings before resuming her jog.
After her run, Rachel showered and slipped on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved white fitted top, dwelling on the monotonous life that belonged to her now. She never wore jeans in Florida midsummer.
She settled with a slice of toast for breakfast. The butter melted against her tongue, the strawberry jam sweet.
Paul’s hammer pounded against the siding as she ate. She finished her orange juice, the tangy liquid cool against her throat.
At least he was here.
What did it matter though? Now, even when she thought of him, an overflow of emotions strangled her.
Singing softly, she washed the few dishes left from last night. The song intensified as she emptied the sink. The drumming of her heart quickened when Paul crossed the yard, close to the kitchen window, the only one ajar.
Hoping to find a nice spot to do some reading, Rachel grabbed her book and blanket and stepped onto the porch. With each step, she studied the path leading into the woods. The trees were full of flowers hanging over the trail, inviting her. It would be a perfect day to explore the area and would steer her away from Paul. Especially when all she wanted was to be near him.
She missed Florida. The ocean, the palms trees blowing in the breeze, the sand beneath her toes as she walked on the beach so many early mornings and late afternoons. She even missed the guys who wanted to be friends with her. A trip to Florida would give her a fresh dose of reality, unlike this fantasy world where nothing seemed right.
Paul worked his way to the back side of the house and wouldn’t notice her. She peeked in his direction anyway, unable to resist. He never looked up.
The cool air brought with it a feeling of hopefulness mixed with the doubt that plagued her. She stepped to the edge of the woods when the dull sound of footsteps reached her ears.
“Rachel.” The whisper of her name in that deep, velvet voice soaked through her skin, and she slowed her pace as if controlled by an invisible wire.
She hesitated before turning to face him. When she did, his pools of deep blue threatened to swallow her whole. But she snapped out of it quickly. “Hi.”
“Are you sure you want to go in there?” His protective nature satisfied a needy place within her.
Rachel closed her eyes for a full second, unable to bear that unmistakable connection that drew her to him. “There's a trail. I wanted to see where it would take me.”
“Oh.” His eyes drifted from hers and reached through the trees behind them then came back to rest on her. Head tipping, he studied her, unveiling something deep and raw within his eyes.
She licked drying lips. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He blinked and the mask fell back into place. “Because we’re different.” The abrupt words didn’t match the way he’d studied her.
“Different?” She stared at him, moisture building behind her eyes. She hated this. Her brittle laughter followed. “It’s too bad that bothers you. Your other friends don’t seem to care.”
Confusion bore a groove between his eyes. “Why would you say that?”
Why had she said that? She didn’t want him to find out about the singing. “No reason. I'll see you later.” She turned and hurried into the woods, biting back stinging tears.
Paul stood only a moment by the edge of the woods unable to resist joining her.
“You shouldn't put yourself in unnecessary danger.”
She paused and turned to face him. “I'm not putting myself in danger. I'm just going for a walk.”
“Just like you run on the road every morning. A street filled with traffic, I might add.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the road. “I'm not sure you're the best judge of your own wellbeing.”
She stomped toward him, her hands clenched in tight knots on her hips. “I am perfectly capable ... well, it doesn't matter. You shouldn't say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“It's rude.” Her hands loosened by her side, and her gaze lowered. “You make it sound like I try to endanger myself.”
“That isn't what I meant. I just wish you'd be more careful.” His eyebrows lifted, but he couldn't keep the stern look for more than a few seconds. Not while looking into those eyes. “Would you mind if I joined you?”
Passion still burned in her eyes, but had weakened. He captured the tormented lesion buried within. He had hurt her feelings.
She lifted her chin in a challenge. “No. I wouldn't want anything horrific to happen to me.”
He had expected an argument and faltered when her reply reached his ears. But somehow he restrained the grin begging for release. “Gut. Me either.”
Finally that smile of hers burst through in full force, followed by a sound that reached deep within him. Her amused laughter.
Everything had always been plain and simple, until now. There had never been any question. His life was set in stone, the life God had chosen for him to be born into. Even if he left his uncle’s home, it wouldn’t change anything. He was Amish and would be joining the church eventually. He waited for no particular reason. He just hadn’t made the commitment. He never had the desire to find out anything about the Englisch world like some of his friends had.
He thought differently now, for the first time. He tried to imagine courting someone else, anyone else. He couldn’t. He drowned in his thoughts as they strolled side by side down the trail.
“Have you been back here before?”
“No.” Gone was the hesitancy in her voice. It was now laced with wonder.
“What did you think of the young people’s gathering?”
Rachel stumbled to a halt and turned startled eyes on him. “You know about that?”
Something in her tone made him move closer, and he had to physically restrain himself from reaching out to her. “A reliable source told me there was a beautiful Englisch girl there. I knew it had to be you.”
He studied the gentle curve of her cheekbone and the way moisture collected on her lower lip when she caught it between her teeth.
She stilled, and he cherished that extra moment. With careful movements he shifted forward, closer. “I don’t mean to embarrass you.”
The play of emotions etching across her face changed from shock to dread to warmth all within one long breath. “You aren’t angry?”
Her response surprised him and it took a moment to find his voice. “Why would that make me angry?”
“Because I went after you told me you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”
He laughed. But his gut wrenched at the truth. “I didn’t say that.”
Her tremulous lip was the only indication of her regret. “You don’t have to pretend with me just because you work for my mom.”
“Rachel, you're absolutely eefeldich!”
She slung her head around, turning her back toward him.
“Wait.” Paul took her arm. The urge to take her into his arms pierced through him, to hold her like he had at the market. Having her wrapped in his arms was as comfortable as it was riveting. This time he had to resist. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I wanted to ask you something.”
She faced him, her eyes storming, as she propped a hand on her hip like she was offended. “What did that word mean?”
His smile widened. “Eefeldich? It means silly or ridiculous.”
“Oh.” A hint of a smile curved at her lips as her gaze fell then she grasped his fingers. “What happened to your hand?”
“Oh, it's nothing. Just a little accident.”
Her lips turned downward into a full pout, and he wanted in that moment to take away her confusion, to be completely honest with her. “Are you planning to go to another singing?”
She stared at him blankly. “No.”
“Why did you go?” Paul had hoped he was her reason. One moment, one glance into her eyes and he would know the answer. It was absurd to want this, but he couldn’t stop himself.
She hesitated, then her head tilted to one side. “I don’t know.”
“If you decide to go again, I would like to take you myself.”
Shock crossed her face. He had to stop himself from laughing. He was floating on a cloud, one he wanted to ride a while. The consequences, he would suffer later.
“What?” She shook her head. “Why?”
“I haven’t been in a while, and I thought I could bring you on Sunday, to introduce you to all my friends. I know how fascinated you are with us.” What if she said no? He teased her, instead of being honest, and pointed at the novel in her hand. “Is that as exciting as your Amish romance novel? I've heard how scandalous books about my people can be.”
A slow smile broke across her blushing face with such striking beauty that for a moment, he could only stare. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend, Paul.”
A thrill surged through him at his name falling off her lips. “I said we shouldn’t be, not that I didn’t want to be.”
Rachel's laugh was bleak. That same unmistakable laugh he'd memorized. He'd made her angry. “Well, I feel much better now.” Then her eyes softened with confused interest.
“We’re from two different worlds. To be friends ...” He lost his way in the depth of her eyes, then shrugged. “But it’s impossible not to. Will you go with me on Sunday?”
She stiffened in surprise. At least he hoped it was surprise, since she still hadn't answered him. And then her answer formed on her lips, and he could almost taste its honeycomb sweetness.
“Yes.”
Yes, she'd said yes. It was electrifying and terrifying. Now what?
They came to a stop near a creek, and Rachel’s face glowed with radiance. He had hurt her feelings many times since their first meeting. He preferred this expression over all others.
“This is so beautiful. It's like a small paradise in the middle of the woods.”
The easy position of her shoulders, the way she threw her hair back with her fingers, he was confident that, finally, for the first time in his presence she seemed relaxed.
“Look at that perfect patch of grass across the water.”
He tore his gaze from hers. “It's nice.”
She stepped forward, testing the first board of the bridge.
“Let me.”
Moving to the side, she allowed him to cross the planks ahead of her.
He needed to be careful. She had a way of making him forget all of his Amish commitments, his loyalty. “They seem to be in good shape.”
“They do.” She ran her hand along the rail. “Where were you?”
“When?”
Rachel looked happy, comfortable. When their eyes met, Paul felt the same magnetism, the same attraction as their last encounter. “Last week?”
The connection between them made him take a step closer. “I was working on something else.”
“Another job?” The hesitancy in her facial expression gripped him.
“Jah. Something like that.”
Her gaze fell, and he had to stop himself from lifting her chin. “I wasn't sure if you were coming back.”
He remembered how he had thought about leaving, and how his chest hurt at the thought of never seeing her again. Paul uttered a delighted chuckle. “I would never leave a job unfinished.”
The light sound of her laughter stretched through the moment, deepening his desire to take her in his arms. “I didn't think you would.”
Paul had a hard time clinging to his fine line of restraint and had to go before he did something he’d regret. He moved aside to allow her to step off the bridge, then he crossed to the other side. “I better go. You have some reading to do.” Her gaze fell to the book in her hand. Paul didn’t want to leave her alone. He didn’t want to leave her at all, but he had no choice. His feelings were on the edge of becoming transparent. “I'll see you later.”
“Okay.” Disappointment crossed her face. Was she disappointed he was leaving? The possibility made him smile.
With a glance over his shoulder, he met her gaze one last time. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Rachel.”
Her baffled expression amused him, but as he reached the edge of the yard, the reality of the situation set in.
It only took five minutes to drive to his house, but he needed every second to sort through his feelings.
What had he done?
This was completely wrong. He had arranged his dilemma into categories. The first one was obvious. He was Amish and she was not. Nothing he could do would change that fact. And that caused the second problem.
A relationship with her was forbidden.
Of course there was always the exception. He could leave the only family he had to join her world. He could do this with the chance of losing her eventually anyway. Some didn’t believe marriage as a lifelong commitment. Just like Caleb's wife. What if Rachel didn’t? What would he have then? Very rarely, an Englisch person joined the Amish community.
No! He would never allow her to join.
What would this cost him, cost her? How could he pull her into this situation with a good conscience?
It could destroy them both.
20
Rachel woke earlier than usual on Thursday. Paul arrived just as she returned from her morning run, and she pretended not to notice him standing by the barn. She needed to weed her garden but hated for him to see her like this. Her face burning from exertion, her skin soaked in sweat. But she needed to get it done before the temperature rose.
She stood by the rows for only a moment then turned. Paul was standing right behind her and she bumped into him. She had a hard time ignoring the thoughts screaming in her mind when their eyes met, so she focused on the smooth line of his jaw.
He held to her waist, his firm hands pulling her closer. A tingling sensation trickled through her torso.
“What's wrong?” he asked, the warmth of his fingers still tight around her middle.
“Nothing. Why?” She inhaled, remembering to breathe.
“You gasped?”
It took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I did?” She paused and then laughed as she remembered. “I was reading a message from a friend.”
“Oh? A friend from Florida?
“Yes, Sam ... Samantha. My best friend.”
“Is everything okay?”
“She just said something that really took me by surprise.” Rachel would never admit that their entire conversation had been about him.
“You should try not to make noises like that, unless you’re in danger.” He took a step back, his hands slipping from her. “You scared me.” He smiled that unforgiving smile, his eyebrows pointing inward. “I haven’t forgotten the last time we stood here in the garden.”
Heat filled her face. She liked the idea of him checking on her. Rachel wasn’t ready to lose this moment with him, not yet.
When he turned, she followed him. “Wait.”
Could she do this?
She wanted it so desperately the words flowed from her mouth without consent. “Would you like to have dinner with us tonight?” What? Rachel? What are you doing? Fix this. “You’ve been working so hard for my mom.”
He grinned. “I would like that. What time should I come?”
“How about six?” Rachel twisted her hands together.
“Okay, I’ll see you later, jah?”
Unable to give an audible answer, she walked to the house in a daze. Thrilling and agonizing sensations flowed through her at the same time.
Rachel found Mom in the kitchen, sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. How would she ever pull this off. “I invited Paul to dinner.” There. It was out. Now, how would Mom react?
“What a great idea!”
“Really?” What had she done? A fluttery empty feeling filled
her stomach. He started speaking to her again and now he was coming for dinner. One minute she nearly exploded inside with the possibility of spending more time with him. The next minute she hated herself for hoping for more.
“He's been a big help to me. It was nice of you to invite him.”
“Okay, well, I'm going to grab some apples ... from the tree ... outside.”
Rachel filled the basket, her every motion guarded, uncertain.
She glanced at Paul before walking inside and caught him watching. She tightened her grip on the basket.
After she searched Pinterest for a new recipe, she made a list for the market and kissed Mom on the cheek. She left for work excited and nervous at the same time. She had trouble distinguishing between the two lately.
Paul’s buggy sat in the same spot when she pulled into the yard after work. He was hanging a piece of siding. To avoid the risk of her tongue running off in the wrong direction, she waved and headed inside.
She had to settle down. It was already four o’clock, and there was so much to do. She slipped into the house and started on dinner. This night could be perfect, if she could just stop shaking. He’s Amish, she told herself over and over as she watched his buggy pull out of the drive an hour later. It was impossible to think he would ever be interested in her.
Rachel pulled the boiled potatoes from the stovetop when Mom entered the kitchen. She blended them with butter and milk. “Do these need salt?” She handed a spoon filled with the creamy white potatoes toward her mom.
After a taste, she licked the spoon clean. “No, they’re perfect.” She glanced under the pot lids. “Sautéed squash with peppers. Yummy. What smells so good in the oven?”
She scrunched her nose. “An easy chicken recipe. I’m worried.”
“Why?”
“I should’ve stuck with my usual recipes. It’s been a while since I’ve cooked for ... someone else.”
“Nonsense. You have nothing to worry about. You’ve been cooking since you were eight. It’s natural to feel nervous when cooking for others. I’m sure it will all be delicious.”
Chasing Paradise Page 10
