It had been months since he left, yet the gravity of pain felt as if he’d only left yesterday.
Her mom stood at the sink washing dishes when Rachel walked inside. She grabbed the towel, drying her hands as she walked quickly toward Rachel. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“It's nothing. I’ll be in my room.” She climbed the stairs, clinging to the railing. When she reached her room, she opened her Bible, holding it to her chest. She pulled it away, the paper crinkling as she searched through the scriptures. It had been months since she'd turned to Jesus. Why? He was the only one who could bring her comfort. Finding a verse, she prayed it to the Lord.
Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. Relieve the troubles of my heart and free me from my anguish. Psalm 25:16-17
Working as an Englischer proved to be more difficult than Paul had imagined. They’d been working in the city for weeks, yet he couldn’t get used to the difference. His Amish heritage still clung to him, as if permanently stamped on his skin.
Paul rolled the too tight shirt sleeves up. How long would it take to get used to jeans and ball caps.
Caleb climbed from the ladder laughing. “Buddy, we’re not in Amish country. And it wouldn’t hurt to lose some of the Pennsylvania Dutch.” Caleb moved to stand in front of him. “You need to do something to get your mind off that girl. At least you're the one who broke her heart and not the other way around.”
Paul stared into the busy street. It had been months, but still he thought of Rachel every hour of every day.
Like Caleb. Paul had been so insensitive. Caleb was crushed when his Englischer wife left him and took up with another Englischer. An ex-boyfriend.
“Why don’t you at least tell her what you’ve found out? It could change everything.”
“Ach, nein. She's with Jordan.”
“You don't know that for sure. They were gut friends.” Why would Caleb of all people encourage him to reach out to her? “You're not Amish. You should go to her. She deserves to hear the truth. From you.” Caleb slapped Paul’s shoulder. “If not, you need to move on, man.”
He should tell Rachel about his parents and his decision to try the Englisch lifestyle. What if she found out from someone else? He wanted to go to her. More than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life.
Caleb returned to the ladder. “Why don’t we check out that Englischer church on the corner?”
Church? Paul hadn’t been to a service in months. What would it be like to attend an Englischer’s church? He suddenly couldn't wait to find out. “Jah. Let’s do it.”
* * *
Sunday morning, Caleb drove them down the narrow street and weaved through the cars in the parking lot. “There’s no empty spaces. That must be a gut sign.”
“Jah. Do this many people usually attend an Englischer church?”
“Depends on several things. The preaching, activities offered, and style of worship.”
Only one thing circled his thoughts. He would experience the same type of worship service as Rachel.
Why hadn’t he thought of this before? It would be like having a piece of her.
They stepped inside the large sanctuary, and Caleb led them down the middle aisle separated by wooden pews on both sides. Paul and Caleb took a seat near the middle. Stained glass forming a picture of Jesus holding a child spun rays of different colors through the room.
“This would be a good place to help you decide how to settle your past.”
Paul listened as the congregation sang the contemporary songs the Englischers played on the radio. Some of the same songs he'd overheard Rachel singing when she thought no one was listening. The memories were still fresh as if he’d heard her sweet voice yesterday.
No one knew the relief, if only for a very brief moment, at his glimpse of hope. A small smile broke out across his face—a single smile to God in thanks.
42
Ocean City, Maryland, felt nothing like Florida. Rows of houses filled each street, set only yards from each other. But getting away from Pennsylvania, even for a little while, was exactly what Rachel needed.
The small beach house sat on a cul-de-sac. A wooden porch led them inside. They entered through the living room area, and an older couple greeted them with hugs.
“You all must be so tired from your drive.” The woman’s singsong voice rang through the small room with affection. “Get your things put away and come and join us in the kitchen. We have sandwiches prepared.”
Rachel followed Kelli into the last bedroom on the right and unloaded her things on the first bed. Kelli and the other girl’s conversations were filled with lighthearted laughter. Drifting back in time, she remembered feeling that same way.
Rachel and her dad on the softball field, her mom in the stands wearing matching T-shirts, cheering for their team. The sound of a bat cracking as the ball soared to center field. The umpires yelling strike, the smells of popcorn, peanuts, and cotton candy.
I need you, Daddy. You should be here, my senior year watching me play high school softball. I’m still good. It’s all because of you. Everything you've ever taught me, every stance, every drill, every trick to psych out the batter. I still work on my pitching mechanics every single day. Can you see me? Can you see the pain I’m hiding from the rest of the world?
Why did you take him from me, God? What can I do? When will I ever feel normal again?
Rachel slipped from the room long after Kelli and headed toward the kitchen.
The lady busied her hands placing turkey, ham, and cheese on slices of bread. “I’m so glad your group is here.”
“Thank you for inviting us into your home.” Rachel moved to the edge of the counter. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“If you’ll grab the mayo and mustard from the refrigerator, we’ll be set.”
Rachel rummaged through the fridge. She set the items by the sink and the familiar breeze from the ocean swept in through the open window, catching a wisp of her hair. The sky burst with a mix of orange and red, painting the blue sky.
As the others filtered into the room, they took seats around the long table, the girls talking in hushed tones.
Kelli moved in the space in front of her. “Are you all right?”
“I'm fine.”
Maybe she'd feel better tomorrow. She could always hope for that. And couldn't wait to feel the sand between her toes again.
* * *
The next morning, Rachel stepped onto the sand and took off in a jog, headphones in her ear, her favorite Toby Mac song playing. The ocean breeze whipped against her face. The wave's white foam slowly faded as another one rushed in behind it.
Rachel missed running on the soft sand before the heat of day. There weren’t many people out this morning, only a few fishing. Beach chairs sinking in the sand, rods stretched out beyond the shallow shore.
She picked up her speed, the beat to the song echoing her footsteps. Seagulls flew above, searching for breakfast.
And then her thoughts shifted.
The perfect picture of Paul sitting in front of her house, right there within her reach, haunted her thoughts. Why had he stopped … if he didn’t still care? Dreams emerged every night since—dreams of him coming back. They seemed so real. He was there. Only she'd missed her chance. She slowed to an unhurried jog. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, a slow smile filled her lips. He had come back for her.
And for the first time in months she felt hope all the way to her bones.
The sounds from the puppet stage reached Paul’s ears and he listened as he worked. A crowd filed in around the performers and children listened to each story of Jesus. One smaller child clung to her mother peering over her shoulder. The mother laughed, encouraging the child to watch the performance. Paul enjoyed the distraction.
Familiar chords of music streamed from the speakers. Paul dropped his hammer as the voice followed through the microphone, the voice he would know anywhere. Paul jerked to a halt an
d looked at the blue cloth of the stage. A dangerous knot filled his stomach. Two girls and one guy sat outside directly behind the stage.
Could the person with this voice be standing just inside the blue screen only yards from him? The words of the song drove deep into his soul. It’s not her. It can’t be.
He wanted to rip away the curtain to reveal the singer of a voice so familiar, one he would long for the rest of his life—the one who owned his heart. But he couldn’t. It would scare them and destroy what they were trying to do.
He never acknowledged that he’d overheard Rachel singing. She never told him she enjoyed it.
Why hadn’t she? He embarrassed her so easily. The color filled her cheeks, right now in his very vivid memory of her. Anticipation brought him to a halt when she exited the partition and then moved in his direction. It looked just like her, but there had to be some mistake. Was this possible?
His muscles ached to move in her direction. “Caleb, I’ll be right back.” He walked away, not waiting for a response. He couldn’t let her out of his sight, not even for a moment, until he was sure.
The young woman didn’t face him, but sat sideways with her eyes closed. Her hair looked the exact color of Rachel’s, her face the same as the one burned in his memory. Waving her arm through the air, she shooed a seagull away. When she smiled there was something different about it. Her smile had always been striking. It could bring warmth to even the most coldhearted person.
But now, there was a sadness hidden beneath as if something had permanently damaged her. Grabbing the wooden stair railing, he realized that he was the one responsible.
He had only made it halfway to her when she stood, walked toward the back of the stage, and disappeared behind the cloth. Only a curtain separated them.
Moments later, her voice came through the microphone again. It was really her. How could this be?
God, what does this mean? Why would you bring her here now? Please show me what You want me to do.
He had no choice … he had to go to her. He had to at least tell her what happened, what he'd found out.
And then Jordan moved from beneath the curtain.
After Rachel sang “The Revelation Song,” they packed to leave, and she followed Kelli and Jordan toward the sandy stairway. “Let’s make sure to get some pictures together before we leave.” It was time to start adding to her collection again. This was her senior year. If she didn't, one day she'd regret it.
Kelli ran toward a photo booth. “Look, we can get some now?”
Rachel and Kelli walked inside, pulling the curtain behind them and made silly faces as the camera clicked every few seconds.
After Jordan took a few by himself, Rachel entered and took a few. When Jordan stepped out and Kelli took her turn, he moved in the space next to Rachel and grabbed her hand. “I want to take some with you.”
Rachel bit her lip, uneasiness creeping up her spine. Jordan was almost acting as if ... No. He wouldn't think that and she nodded. “Of course.”
Kelli stepped from the booth. “Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt.”
Jordan released Rachel's hand and placed his own on the small of her back. “We'll be right back.”
After taking a set, Rachel left Jordan inside. “Stay here, I want some of you and Kelli.”
Kelli entered the booth while Rachel waited for the strips of pictures. Glancing at the building right in front of her, she admired the raw beginnings of a store the construction workers were building. As her solo pictures came through the slot, they slipped from her fingers.
43
A construction worker stared at Rachel—a man wearing a ball cap and jeans, but with a face like Paul's. Their gaze met for one lingering second and then he turned rapidly and so did she. Chills raced across her arms and tiny hairs stood at attention. After a moment, she searched the area again, but he had disappeared. Of course it wasn’t him. That man wasn’t Amish.
Kelli's booming laugh caught Rachel in a crestfallen mood as they stepped from the booth. “He's crazy. Wait.” Kelli grabbed her arm and whispered, “What's wrong?”
“Nothing.” Rachel pressed a thin smile on her lips. That was so weird. “I just have a wild imagination.” She glanced over her shoulder as she followed Jordan and Kelli down the boardwalk, itching for one more look.
The image of his buggy sitting in the road, the possibility of him watching her, wanting to see her. Urgency pumped through her veins as she half walked, half stumbled along the boardwalk, no longer able to inhale a full breath. It was as if God set a light bulb off in her brain. He hadn't taken Paul from her. He was alive, breathing, his heart beating, the same as hers, somewhere. And no matter how much she ached, she knew now what she had to do. What she should've done months ago.
She had to go to him. But first she had to find him.
Paul kept his eyes on Rachel as she disappeared down the boardwalk. Why had he allowed Jordan's presence to stop him from approaching her? He pulled the pictures out he’d placed in his pocket earlier. He admired every inch of her face, four different frames of her sweet smile staring back at him. It was like a gift from Heaven. He slipped them back into his pocket.
Caleb walked up behind him. “What’s going on?”
“Rachel’s here.” Paul stared into the distant waves, clashing with the sky. “She looked right at me.”
“What? She's here?” Caleb searched the area. “You’re sure it was her?”
“She was with her friends from Paradise.” Taking a step forward, he lowered his arms to his sides, staring into the space where she'd been only a few minutes ago. “She was with Jordan.”
“Oh, man.” Caleb moved in the space next to him. “Did you talk to her?”
“She was holding his hand.”
“That doesn't matter. I understand that you're trying to protect her but you love her too much. She deserves to hear the truth. From you.” Caleb slapped him on the shoulder. “I hope things work out for you, man.”
I love her too much? Maybe Caleb was right. He had only cared about protecting her and not hurting her worse. It shouldn't matter that Jordan was here, especially since Paul wasn't certain Rachel had moved on with him. But he was too late. She was already gone.
Dreams of being near her filled his mind the rest of the afternoon. Sitting back on the bed after work, he stared at her pictures. Beautiful, loving, precious ... the girl he wanted to cherish for the rest of his life.
Caleb banged on Paul’s door as he passed. “Time to go.”
Crossing the street from the parking lot, they entered the church through the front. Hundreds of members already filled the wooden pews.
Searching for a seat, Caleb motioned toward the back. “There’s one.”
A couple slid down to make room. Paul sat on the end, searching the crowd. Time in God's presence was exactly what he needed.
Caleb elbowed him in the side. “We got here just in time, the drama's already starting.”
A girl wearing all black twirled her way onto the stage as music filled the auditorium. Grabbing a hold of the pew, he steadied himself. Kelli? She knelt down facing away as another girl danced in gracefully after her. Before the introduction of the orchestrated music ended, two more girls made their way next to the others, and they all bowed away from the audience, revealing bold letters printed in white on their black shirts. Just as Paul read the words, someone from the opposite side slowly made her way toward the other girls.
His body, without restraint, rose. Rachel. Words flowed from her mouth, a stunning configuration of her voice to the melody. Slowly, he sank into his seat as one of the kneeling girls stood, moved behind Rachel, and mimicked her motions. Paul was unaware at first of the exact actions of the other girl or her purpose, unable to take his eyes from Rachel.
Then a young man dressed as Jesus walked toward the front, and Rachel reached for him. Over and over. As the song built in volume, Rachel stood. It took his breath away when she dropped her black robe to the floor rev
ealing a white dress that sparkled like diamonds. She then turned and ripped away each girl’s black shirt revealing a white top underneath. Their downcast expressions transformed into joy as they danced around the stage, each girl dragging a thick strand of purple cloth and created a cross.
Paul stood clapping, his hands stinging against his own strength. Others joined in applause as he kept his eyes locked on Rachel.
Caleb pushed against him. “Go to her.”
Paul searched over the crowd as people dispersed, hindering his view of the stage. “You knew she would be here.”
“Not exactly. I just thought there was a really gut chance.”
Paul slapped Caleb on the shoulder then hurried toward the front. He had to find her. Tonight.
“What are you doing here?”
Paul started at the familiar voice, spoken with familiarity, filled with contempt. “Jordan. Hullo.” Paul's gaze swept over his face quickly, then he resumed his search for Rachel. He had to catch her before she left. With another quick glance at Jordan, he answered, “I'm working.”
Jordan crossed his arms. “In Ocean City? Really? I thought you were staying in Hershey.”
“Jah, I am. Going home in the morgen.” How did Jordan know he'd been staying in Hershey? Right now it didn't matter. “I need to find Rachel. Can you take me to her?”
Jordan's expression hardened and his jaw stiffened. “I can't do that,” Jordan hissed, the sound shrieking in Paul's ear even though vast noises saturated the auditorium.
Paul turned steely eyes on Jordan. No one would stop him from seeing Rachel. He took several steps forward, when Jordan grabbed his arm.
“She isn't there. She already left.”
Paul snatched his arm free. “I have to find her.”
Chasing Paradise Page 23
