Their way was definitely not my way.
Hurrying, I pushed the heavy mower to the house and started it up. While I pushed it through the short grass, barely needing any cutting at all, I decided that I wasn’t going to waste my time pining away over a girl that I could never have—and one who wasn’t a part of the life that I had been born into.
But even though I tried to block her from my mind, focusing on everything else under the sun, I couldn’t stop wondering about what it would be like to kiss such a girl. Those thoughts made the time spent mowing go quickly. With more energy than I’d felt in a while, I finished the yard in fifteen minutes and raced to the house to get ready.
Mother, Sarah and Rachel were flitting around the kitchen like busy hummingbirds when I came through the door in a rush. I couldn’t help noticing in just a glance that Mother looked stressed, having to stretch the meal unexpectedly for the guests.
To my surprise, even my littlest brothers, Daniel and Isaac, each had a broom in hand and were sweeping the wooden floor. Mother must have been desperate, to hunt the rowdy boys down and ask them for help.
“I’m taking a shower, Mother,” I said, hurrying through the kitchen. I had spoken to her in English, but as usual with the older Amish, she answered me in Pennsylvania Dutch.
“Noah, tell me what they were like. Father said little except that they were coming for dinner.” She had actually stopped working on the pork chops to stare at me with intense curiosity. My sisters looked about the same, waiting for my answer.
“Well, there are three kids,” I offered, wanting to just get out of the kitchen.
“Are there any girls?” Sarah asked with wide-eyed excitement.
“One—her name is Rose and she’s about your age, and the older boy, Sam, is probably my age, and then there’s a younger brother. I think his name is Justin.” I answered her in a very matter-of-fact way, especially trying not to give anything away when I mentioned Rose’s name. Women were pretty intuitive about stuff like that, and I worried that just a few words and they’d see right through me.
“Rose… That is a pretty name.” I couldn’t help agreeing with her. Not that I’d admit it out loud.
She drilled on with the interrogation, asking, “How were they dressed—are they modest people?”
Here we go. The image of the dirty, wet and aggressive kids rose up in my mind. I was at a loss for words, but I recovered quickly and lied. “They were very modest and nice English people, Mother. Now, I stink, and I need to take a shower before they arrive.” I impatiently waited for her to excuse me.
“Do you believe they’re Christians?” Mother asked with a sharper-than-usual voice.
What was I going to say to that one? Father had already witnessed the young ones fighting like riled-up roosters, and I was sure he’d be filling her in on the details when they were alone in their bed after dark. I’d be surprised if they even went to a church. “I don’t know, Mother. We only talked for a few minutes. Please, can I go take a shower?”
“Yes, of course. I want you all looking your best. Mr. Cameron is a doctor after all.”
Thank God, she turned back to the chops and forgot about me.
I didn’t miss Sarah’s scrutinizing look before I spun and leaped up the stairs two steps at a time. My sister could be a real pain in the butt. No doubt she’d be grilling me later.
When I stepped out of the shower, I pulled on one of my ironed blue shirts, leaving the top button undone and hoping Mother didn’t notice. Normally, she wouldn’t care if it was just the family for dinner, but having company would make a difference. As I was clipping on the black suspenders, I wondered if the English boys thought I looked stupid with them on. After all, suspenders were the one thing that I hadn’t seen any English men wearing.
But what was more on my mind than my own appearance was what the English kids would show up looking like. I certainly hoped they cleaned themselves before they came over. I mean, surely they wouldn’t arrive for dinner in the state they were in when I saw them earlier. That would be absolutely terrible. Mother would never allow me to hang around with them if they made a bad impression tonight.
And even though I’d already decided that I would do my best to erase any romantic thoughts about Rose, I had also promised myself that I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to get to know her better either.
There wasn’t a mirror to check out how I looked, but I was confident I was presentable enough when I walked back down the stairs at a lazy pace. I was ready now; no need to hurry. The smells in the kitchen wafted through the house. My mouth watered slightly at the pleasant aroma of cooking meat and seasoned potatoes.
Mother and Sarah had changed into their church dresses and were in the process of pouring glasses of water when I entered the kitchen. Rachel was at the window, with a rag, vigorously wiping fingerprints off it. She, too, was wearing her navy blue Sunday best.
“Where’s Father?” I asked, scanning the immaculate kitchen. I had to admit I was a tad proud of the way the house looked and figured the new neighbors would be impressed—especially Rose.
“He’s on the front porch with Naomi. She finally woke from her nap.”
Mother was still very busy, and this time, she didn’t even glance in my direction when she answered.
I stepped out onto the porch, pulling the rocker closest to Father beneath me. He was dressed in his finest black jacket and pants, sipping lemonade from a large glass. Three-year-old Naomi was perched on one of his knees, munching on an apple. Seeing me sit down, she abandoned Father, coming over to climb up onto my lap. In Dutch, she asked me if the new neighbors were nice. Funny, how females became nosy at a very young age. I proceeded to tell her that they were very nice indeed.
It was a perfect June evening, with a cool breeze blowing, the air crisp and clean after the rainstorm. I relaxed, listening to the wind chimes softly clanging their song through the air, until Father’s voice shattered the moment.
“Noah, there’s a matter I want to discuss with you,” Father said, staring straight ahead, without meeting my eyes.
I sighed, knowing what was coming—and dreading it.
“Since that old house was vacant for so long, we have become used to not having outsiders living so close by. I am sure it will take some adjusting to. Also, the English children will want to make friends—which creates a very difficult situation for us. Their father is a doctor and a man of importance in the outer society, so we don’t want to offend him. But neither will I have my children spending much time with the English, being influenced and corrupted by them.”
He drew a deep breath, clearly immensely bothered by the idea. “They are wild, undisciplined children, and the less time you spend around them the better. Our Ordnung does not allow Rumspringa for a reason, Noah. We decided a long time ago that discipline for the young people of our church is the right path to God. You are at a point in your life when you will be taking on a woman and starting a family soon, and you mustn’t do anything to tarnish your reputation in the community—such things may be forgiven, but they are not easily forgotten. Don’t forget what I’m saying, son.” He aimed a steady look at me, narrowing his eyes.
He had noticed my attraction to Rose.
I glanced away from him and stared ahead, silently fuming. It wasn’t fair that I should finally meet a girl that I found captivating, and she had to be English. And my father was already telling me to stay away from her.
Damn, he was right, though, and I already knew it in my heart.
But then, why did it pierce my insides like a knife wound?
“Well?” Father pressed. He wanted me to tell him that I would never disobey him on this, but I would be lying. There was a war raging within me about this girl, but my fighting spirit had been roused by Father’s words. I wanted to see more of Rose and I was sure that I’d take every opportunity presented to do just that.
Before Father could badger me some more, Isaac ran around the side of the house, t
elling us the English had arrived. Luckily he spoke in our language and the neighbors wouldn’t understand. I wasn’t sure they would like being called English.
Father rose up and marched down the front steps, with me closely on his heels. As we rounded the corner of the house, the Cameron family was walking past the barn with Peter and Daniel escorting them. I could hear the clip-clop of shod hooves on the road and without looking knew that Jacob was returning with Katie.
My eyes immediately settled on Rose as she stepped along with a spring in her stride, close beside Sam. With relief, I noted that she wore dry jeans and a loose-fitting T-shirt that had a picture of a horse on it. Not only did she look about as modest as an English girl could, it appeared she liked horses, and that meant we had something in common. My heart skipped at the discovery.
And by the clothes that Rose had chosen, Mother couldn’t say anything negative about her either. I had secretly hoped that she would wear something that wasn’t too revealing—I wanted my family to approve of her, and that wouldn’t have happened if Rose had worn tight, inappropriate clothing.
As they approached, she lifted her eyes shyly at me. Odd that she was now acting a bit demure, I thought. But I was too distracted to dwell on the change by the long, wavy hair that was gently swirling around her face from the breeze, loose and free. She cleaned up very nicely, and looking at her made a rolling heat develop in the pit of my stomach. Feeling the growing discomfort in my body, I averted my eyes from her. Surely anyone observing me would see it plainly on my face.
I was not at all happy with myself for the reaction that this outsider whom I barely knew stirred within me, but when her eyes met mine briefly and then darted away like a rabbit spotted by the dog in the yard, I knew that I was truly smitten. Even though Rose had the spirit of a bear, there was something soft and vulnerable about her. My soul was tugged toward the English girl as if it knew that she needed me.
The realization was settling over me like a warm blanket just as Mother came out the back door with Sarah and Rachel. They moved to stand beside Father while tiny Naomi walked up to the neighbors, staring at them as if they were on exhibit at a zoo. Silence hung uncomfortably in the air for a second, until Dr. Cameron spoke up first.
“Thank you so much for inviting us over for dinner. It’s been a long, tiring day, and a home-cooked meal sounds wonderful.” He said it in a friendly manner, and I waited as Father introduced the rest of our family. When Jacob pulled alongside with the buggy, he presented Katie, as well.
I risked a glance at Rose and noticed she was staring at the buggy, her eyes wide with interest. I bet she’d enjoy riding in a buggy. Just how I was going to arrange something like that, I didn’t know. But I promised myself that I would take her for a drive eventually.
Up to that point, Rose hadn’t said a thing, except “hello” to my mother and sisters, and I suddenly realized that the English family was probably as nervous about this encounter as we all were. I couldn’t talk directly to her in front of my parents, but I was trying to think of something to say to Sam to break the tension, when Peter did it for me.
“Do you want to see our new puppies?” He directed the question mostly at Justin, who quickly nodded his head. The two broke from the group, running toward the barn.
Interestingly enough, Rose touched Sam’s arm and she turned to follow the boys, with Sam joining her. How odd that an hour ago in the cellar they were behaving as if they couldn’t stand each other and now in unfamiliar territory they seemed close.
I hurried to catch up to them, worried about what Mother must be thinking, seeing a girl go off with the boys. If Rose had been Amish, she would have joined my sisters. The fact that she had just chosen the boys worried me.
That was the problem with English girls—they did what they wanted.
But then again, maybe that was one of the things that made Rose so intriguing…and dangerous to me.
3
Rose
A New World
AS WE CROSSED the quaint little stone-and-white-fenced bridge, I worried about the way I was dressed. Lazy Sam had refused to go back and get my suitcase and instead had brought my duffel bag to the house, the only contents being the T-shirt and shorts I slept in, spare panties, flip-flops and an extra pair of jeans.
Dad was impatient to be on our way to the neighbors’, and even though I was willing to trek back across the water myself, he wouldn’t allow it. He had insisted I just go take a shower and put on whatever I had in the bag.
Men could be so brainless about stuff like that. I wanted to make a good impression. After all, we were going to have dinner at a place where the women all wore dresses, and here I was in my sleep shirt and faded jeans, wearing flip-flops. The day held a strange hazy quality that made me feel as if I were dreaming. The fact that I’d walked through a hay field to have dinner at our new neighbors’ house certainly added to the surreal feeling for me.
In slight consolation, at least I had been able to take a shower and wash the mud out of my hair. The bathtub had been gross, with the remains of a lot of dried-up bugs in it, and I’d taken a few minutes to wash them all down the drain before I could even get started. But amazingly, the water pressure was strong and the temperature was almost scalding hot—just the way I liked it.
Taking a breath, I paused to watch a gray-furred rabbit zigzag in front of us, finally disappearing into a clump of thick grass. I wished that I had as much energy as the little creature, admitting that I was a little winded from the trek across the thirty-acre field that separated our houses to reach the creek running behind the Millers’ barns.
Following the creek toward the bridge, I watched as the water flowed swiftly over smooth stones that jutted out here and there. It all looked calm and quaint now, but I could see where the rushing water had overflowed, flattening the grass on both sides well up the banks from the storm.
Once across the bridge, I focused my attention on the farm around us. It was absolutely immaculate. Everything about it was orderly and tidy. The grass was mowed to perfection, and there were several large flower beds overflowing with brightly colored petunias, gardenias and begonias. Dainty butterflies danced above the blooms in hectic motion. The huge vegetable garden we passed contained every kind of plant imaginable, the rows straight and freshly tilled. Not a weed in sight either. To our left was a massive barn and beside it was a large three-sided equipment shed. Both buildings were covered in bright white siding, with black roofs and trim, matching the house.
Four-board white vinyl fencing surrounded the pasture and barnyard, and I shielded my eyes from the lowering sun to search out the horses in the lush field. I quickly counted nine: a couple of huge Belgians, four buggy-type horses and three cute pinto ponies. My senses were on overload, trying to take everything in, when three little boys ran out of the barn toward us.
I gauged the age of the oldest boy to be eleven or twelve and the two smaller ones six and eight. They were so adorable in their light blue short-sleeved dress shirts and black suspenders. All three had thick, dark brown hair laced with golden highlights, just like Noah’s. I was guessing they were his little brothers.
Funny, how when I’d met Noah earlier, I didn’t even notice what he was wearing. I guess I was too focused on his striking face and steamy eyes. Would he look as good to me the second time I saw him? I was willing to bet he would. Just the thought that I found a guy that attractive was unnerving to me. I didn’t really like the mushy, strange feelings I was experiencing, nearly popping with arousal at the mere idea of seeing him again.
One of the little boys left the others, running to the two-story, neat-as-a-button farmhouse. The remaining two fell in walking with us, peeking up bashfully from time to time.
“Hello, boys. Beautiful evening, isn’t it?” Dad said to them.
“Yes, sir, it’s a fine evening,” the older boy answered.
So far the Amish I’d met sounded pretty normal. Just a hint of an accent, or maybe it was their vocab
ulary, very proper. Anyway, they weren’t too different after all. Well, besides the beards, dresses and no electricity. If these boys walking with us were wearing normal clothes, they’d look like any other kids.
But then I heard the littlest boy shouting in a language I had never heard before. I glanced over to Dad questioningly. He answered, “They speak a form of German.”
“It’s called Pennsylvania Dutch,” the younger boy corrected Dad. He seemed pleased with himself for being able to tell us something that we didn’t know. He sniffed, walking on a little straighter.
I had to smile at that. He looked like such a little man with his clothes and manner. When I looked back up, my heart bounced at seeing Noah approaching with his father. He was actually a little taller than his dad, and this time I did notice what he was wearing—the same blue dress shirt and black suspenders that the little boys had on.