“I have no problem with him.”
“I would love for you to get to know each other.” She twirled a French fry through ketchup.
“That's not a good idea, hatzli.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Why not? I love you, and he’s a good friend.”
“You don’t see it, do you?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to tease you.” He squeezed her fingers and something through her middle quivered at the hidden treasure contained in his glance, even though she had no idea what any of it meant. “I’m glad for you that your friend’s here.”
She pulled her hand away and gritted her teeth, keeping her smile at bay. “You shouldn’t keep things from me.”
“It’s not for me to say, but I like this.” His sweeping smile brightened his eyes. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re umgerent.” He chuckled. “Upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“And I’m not keeping things from you.” He took her hand back. “You want some dessert?”
She couldn’t stay mad at him, not with that heart-stopping smile. “You go ahead. Maybe I’ll just take a bite of yours.”
Paul squeezed Rachel's hand, then let it go. He had to be extremely careful with her. The attraction he felt toward her was stronger than he could handle sometimes. So he pulled away and satisfied himself with watching her savor their slice of chocolate crème pie.
She should be eating his aunt's pie, at his aunt's table. Fighting the ache in his chest, he pushed the plate toward her, offering her the last piece. He longed to be a normal man who could take her home to meet his family, introduce her as his girlfriend, as the girl he wanted to marry. She had given up so much. He wasn’t being fair to her, but what could he do?
She licked the fork, and at the sigh that escaped him, she flicked her gaze up to meet his.
Letting her go would kill him.
34
Summer turned into fall, and Paul still hadn’t told his family. How they kept it a secret in such a small town, Rachel couldn't fathom. She thought more about becoming Amish every day. Giving up her dream of being a cosmetologist would be the hardest part. No more makeup. Hair styles. She'd have to trade in all her favorite outfits for calico dresses and white aprons. Could she go through with it? Yes. For him she would do anything.
Rachel adjusted her height at the kitchen window to see Paul better when his buggy pulled into her yard.
She couldn't drag herself from the glass pane, so busy admiring the way Paul's hair brushed the tip of his collar, the way his hat always rested just above his eyebrows.
A soft knock pulled Rachel backward on her heels. She hurried to open the door and found Paul standing next to Mary. “Come in.”
Mary's gaze darted between them until it finally came to rest on Rachel. “Ride with me to the farm today. I want to introduce you to my mamm.”
Rachel expected concern, however Paul's eyes twinkled with hopefulness. Did he believe her meeting his family would make a difference?
His warm hand slid into her cool one. “That's a gut idea.”
Rachel turned and offered a slight nod to Mary. “I would love to. Let me grab my jacket and tell Mom. I’ll be right back.”
Paul followed her down the hall.
She turned and faced him. “Are you sure? If you rather I didn’t …”
“Ach.” He squeezed her hand. “I want you to meet my family. They will love you.” His enthusiasm eased some of her anxiety. “The only thing is ... I won't be able to stay. I haven’t had a minute alone with you in a week and now she’s taking you away. I have to order some supplies. So, I’ll drop you off, go into town and pick you up later.” He released his fingers and wrapped his arms tight around her waist. “Can I give you a proper gut bye?”
It was amazing how those few little words created a flurry of butterfly wars. “Yes.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, then lifted her chin and she met his gaze. The heated look in his eyes proved he wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him. “We’ll spend some time together later, jah?”
His smile hurled those butterflies into a brand new battle.
Only a few minutes later, Rachel followed Mary through Paul’s front door and anxiety thick as slow-pouring molasses swelled in her chest. This is a bad idea. They will see right through me.
Mary urged her forward. “Come on, you’re going to be fine.”
“Are you reading my mind?”
“Nein. But I know your heart.” At Mary’s nudging, Rachel forced a believable smile. Mary grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. “Mamm, I brought Rachel Adams for a visit.”
“Ach, Mary, it’s about time. That’s all I’ve been hearing about. Bring her here and let me meet her.”
That trickle of unease melded into warmth under her aunt's full, compassionate smile.
The smell of cinnamon and sugar filled the large, plain kitchen. Flour covered the short woman’s black apron.
She reached out and took Rachel's hands. “I’m Leah Fischer. It’s gut to finally meet you, Rachel.”
“Thank you. You too.” Rachel's eyes darted around the kitchen and through the living room. Paul's home.
“Won’t you and Mary join me for a piece of shoofly pie? It’s fresh out of the oven.” She took one quick breath. “Have you tried the pie yet?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Jah, well, you haven’t tried mine.”
“Mamm!” Mary placed both hands on her hips. “Mind your gut manners in front of our guest.”
Rachel giggled at the Amish ladies. “I would love to try your shoofly pie. I’m sure yours is delicious. All the other goodies you’ve sent to our house have been.”
“I knew I would like this friend of yours.”
“I've been hoping to meet you so I could tell you thank you. My mom always enjoys your company.”
The kitchen door opened and an older Amish man entered. He hung his hat on the hook and pulled at his beard. “Hullo, I’m Abram Fischer.”
Rachel wanted to look away, anywhere but directly into his eyes, but he kept his gaze steady on hers. “I’m Rachel Adams. It's nice to meet you.”
A halfhearted grunt released from the tall man.
Mrs. Fischer had moved toward him in those few awkward moments and reached up on her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek. “Welcome home, Abram. This is the nice young lady Mary’s been telling us all about. The same Englischers Paul’s been spending so much time working for.”
Abram Fischer’s gaze didn’t falter. “Ain’t so?”
She cleared the lump in her throat. “Yes, sir. Paul's been a huge help to my mom.” And me. The blazing started at her neck and raced up her cheeks, scorching every millimeter in between.
He finally looked away with not even the slightest hint of a smile behind his bushy beard. A hundred pound weight seemed to settle right in her gut. He hated her.
“Mamm, I forgot to tell you. I want to teach Rachel to quilt. Could she come over after school some afternoons to work on it?”
“We would love to have her, wouldn’t we, Abram?”
A rough cough left his throat. “Jah.”
Rachel eased her eyes toward Mr. Fischer and relaxed when a burly smile filled his cheeks.
Mr. Fischer turned and left the same way he came in, and the tightness through her middle seemed to physically unwind.
“Learning to quilt is hard work, but can be so rewarding.” While Mrs. Fischer explained some minor details, Rachel was making plans. If she joined the church, they could tell everyone, and maybe somehow his aunt and uncle would accept her like Mary had.
Rachel's gaze searched Mary and Mrs. Fischer's long, plain dresses. Wearing that dress could trigger Paul seeing her not only as his girlfriend, but his future wife.
At the Central Market the following Saturday, Paul started to walk toward Rachel, but stopped. It was impossible to do that here. His f
eelings over the last months had deepened and it wouldn't be easy to pretend he didn't care for her. He'd hoped to find a way to talk to his uncle, to bring things out in the open. Especially after Rachel's visit to the farm last weekend. His family had loved her, just as he knew they would.
Paul ached to move closer and the muscles in his arms tightened when he saw Eric Matthews intended to talk to her. Rachel had a right to talk to anyone she wanted, yet he couldn't even approach her in public. It would be too hard not to reach out to take her hand, to pull her against him, to kiss her.
Best to walk away before he did something he'd regret. He turned and slammed into Anna. “Ach! I'm so sorry, Anna.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist in an awkward hug. “Paul.”
“What are you–?” He twisted out of her grip, but she fell right back into him. The last thing he wanted was Rachel witnessing this scene. He searched the area where Rachel had just been standing, and took a deep, grateful breath. She had moved away. But Eric was moving toward them.
With Anna's arms still hooked around his neck, Paul caught Eric's eye in a plea for help. Paul then led her out of the building and toward his buggy.
It wouldn't be proper to leave Anna stranded here. Not in her condition. He had to do something. “Ach, Anna, have you been drinking?”
“N-o-o-o.” Her whine echoed through his ear, the alcohol on her breath reeking the air between them.
Eric reached Paul's buggy, his eyes narrowed.
Anna tried to stand straight, but Paul worried she would wither like a limp flower all the way to the pavement, so he tried steadying her again. That was a mistake, because she planted a kiss right on his lips. Paul staggered backward, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What are you doing?”
“You're mine, silly.”
Shock stole Paul's breath.
Eric latched onto Anna's arm and maneuvered her toward his car. “I’ll take her home.” Anna complied, her steps clumsy. “I'll be waiting ... at the ... singing. Don't forget.”
With an apologetic grimace, Eric helped Anna into his car and closed the door.
Slowly, Paul's common sense prevailed even though he was still a bit rattled. “She's drunk! The last thing she needs is for her family to see her like this.”
“They're not home. I'll make sure she gets sobered up before they come back.” Eric glanced toward the car, before turning back to him. “She’s been doing some crazy stuff lately with some of the guys that aren’t so nice. She’s trying to get your attention … but I know your attention lies elsewhere. I understand. And don’t worry, I won't tell anyone. But you need to settle this with Anna.” His tone contained an undeniable warning.
Settle what with Anna?
Eric drove away with Anna, leaving Paul dumbfounded. Eric knew?
35
When Paul sat next to Rachel in the loft later that evening, she scooted closer and spread a blanket across their legs. “It’s getting so cold.” She leaned into him, and he inhaled the sweet scent of her coconut shampoo. Nuzzled against his neck, her hot breath sent warning signals through him. He wanted to take her in his arms, hold her forever, so when she kissed him, he couldn't resist.
He ventured away from her lips, tasted her ear, and ran down the length of her neck. His hands glided across her back and down to her waist.
Then something inside him snapped and he pulled back. “Rachel, we have to stop.”
“Stop what?” She reached for his lips again.
He stood and she fell away all at the same time. He couldn't look at her, couldn't touch her again or he would give into her.
“Please don’t leave.” She lowered her chin but held to his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“No, Rachel, I'm sorry.” He kissed the top of her head then whispered fiercely in her ear. “It's my fault. Not yours.” Paul pulled away and searched the pain in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” It would be better to leave. This had gone way beyond what it should have.
“I have something important to ask you.” Desperation filled her voice, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Will you take me to the prom?”
Paul sat straighter, her question churning in his mind. “What?”
Taking both of his hands, she looked up at him, her eyes pleading. She blinked and a tear escaped from her lashes. “The senior prom. I want you to take me to my prom.”
His shoulders slumped. What was he supposed to say? He only knew what he wished he could say. Yes, I would love to. “You know that's impossible.”
“I know.” She straightened, her hands slipping away from him. “Never mind. It was stupid to even think ...”
“Nein, it's not stupid.” What was he supposed to say? “I want to, but it's complicated. You know that.”
Suddenly she was behind him, pressing against him, resting her head on his back. “I didn't really want to go anyway.” Her tone determined as if defying the whole idea.
It wasn’t fair. She shouldn't miss her prom because of him. Jordan could take her. He would. All she had to do was ask, and he'd jump at the chance. No, he would never suggest that.
“I just won't go.”
He turned and covered her arms with his. “You should go.”
“It's just a stupid dance.”
That wasn't true. If it hadn't mattered, she wouldn't have asked him. He was angry. At himself. She didn't deserve this. And he wouldn't allow it any longer. “I'll take you.”
A broken sob erupted from her throat, and she reached for him. “You will? You would do that for me?”
“I would do anything for you.” It was the truth, only he still hadn't told his family. He couldn’t hold her right now, no matter how much he wanted to. His strength had weakened. Wrapping his hands around her shoulders, he pulled her forward gently and kissed her forehead. “I'll see you tomorrow.” He climbed down the ladder before he could change his mind.
On Sunday morning, when Anna’s family arrived, she headed straight toward Paul holding a present. “Wiegeht’s. I made this for you, Paul.”
Paul opened it to find a beautiful blue and black scarf.
“Danki, Anna.”
He hadn't seen Anna since that day at the market. It was as if she remembered none of it. He couldn't put this off any longer. During lunch, Anna stared at him with so much concentration, she never noticed when Aunt Leah spoke to her.
“Anna?”
“Jah.” The word came out soft, too soft ... much too inviting.
“My aunt asked you a question.”
“Ach, I'm sorry.” Her tone suddenly transformed. “I was thinking about something.”
The rest of the conversation around the table fell on his deaf ears. Somehow he had to confront Anna about the scene she'd made at the market, and the rumors she was spreading about him. Her eagerness to get his attention had gone too far. He didn't want to hurt her, but she needed to hear the truth.
He wanted to leave, not be stranded here. Anna’s family had settled in, and it would be a while before they left. It would be rude to leave first but then Thomas and Mary prepared to set out for a buggy ride, and he worried he'd never find an excuse.
Anna rushed toward him and clung to his arm. “Would you mind taking me home, Paul. I'm feeling a little lightheaded.”
“Should I get your Daed and Mamm?”
“Nein. No need to worry them. If I could just get home and lie down, I should feel better.”
It would give him a good opportunity to talk to her about her behavior. It wouldn't be easy. He hated confrontation, but this was important. “Jah. I'll be glad to drive you home.”
“Danki.” Her calm voice didn’t match the excitement in her eyes and barely veiled the hidden suggestion of her request.
He helped her into the buggy, though everything in him screamed a warning. This is wrong—so wrong.
Anna situated herself in the middle, leaving him on the very edge and their legs touched as he took his seat. “Do you mind sliding over? I don't have en
ough room.”
She scooted only an inch. “I have a fresh shoo-fly pie made just this morning. I thought you could stay awhile and we could share a piece.”
“I thought you wanted to lie down.”
“I'm feeling much better now.”
“With no parents home, that would be improper. Besides ... ”
“Oh, Paul. Do you have to be so honest all the time?” Her entire body swiveled so that now she faced him fully. “I wanted to spend some time alone together.”
“This attention you give me ... it needs to stop.” He struggled to keep his words gentle but it was difficult. “If you were to give this kind of attention to the wrong person, it could lead to serious consequences.”
“You don't have to worry about that. I'm not interested in anyone else. Only you.” She extended her hand between them and rested it on his knee.
Grimacing, he grabbed her arm and dropped her hand back onto her lap. He waited until he was parked in her driveway before he continued. “I'm worried you're acting in a disrespectful way, for not only you, but your family as well.”
“What're you talking about?”
“Getting drunk. Pushing yourself on me. If you were to do the same thing to someone else, they could easily take advantage of you.”
She took a long exaggerated breath. “I love that you're so protective over me.”
“I can't court you, Anna.” He took his time, striving to be gentle with her feelings. “My heart is already devoted ... somewhere else.”
Miraculously healed from her dizziness, she jumped from the buggy, fire sparking in her eyes. “Nein, Paul Fischer. You will not to do this to me. I have waited three years for you.” She propped both hands on her hips. “And I'm not going to let that Englischer girl, Rachel Adams, take you away from me.”
His pulse jolted like a streak of lightning.
36
Late Sunday afternoon, after the services, after his confrontation with Anna, Paul followed Rachel to the waterfall. They sat on the same moss-covered rocks, and he whittled the bark from a stick with his pocket knife. His conversation with Anna didn't go as planned, and now he worried he'd made a mistake talking to her. But right now he needed to concentrate on Rachel. Something seemed different.
Chasing Paradise Page 19
