Your heart misleads you.

That’s what my friends and family say.

But I love Noah.

And he loves me.

We met and fell in love in the sleepy farming community of Meadowview, while we rode our horses together through the grassy fields and in those moments in each other’s arms.

It should be

ROSE & NOAH

forever, easy.

But it won’t be.

Because he’s Amish.

And I’m not.

He’s Amish…

He smiled at me triumphantly, making my heart melt into a puddle, and his thumb swirling in place on my hand sent goose bumps up my arm. Not trusting the feel of his hand over mine, I had to look down and see it with my eyes to make sure that I wasn’t hallucinating the whole thing.

I couldn’t deny the way Noah made my body feel, that was for sure, but my mind was still struggling with the whole Amish thing. Where on earth could this relationship go?

But then, I didn’t care what the answer was. I just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

She’s not…

In the back of my mind, I had hoped spending more time with Rose might dampen my interest in her. After all, it would be much easier if I fell for a pretty Amish girl. Only, it had the opposite effect on me. It would take all my strength to resist Rose now—if I even could.

I realized I couldn’t say goodbye to her or make plans for a next meeting, with Jacob hovering around and Father marching toward us through the yard. But rebelliousness gripped my soul, and I stole a glance at Rose anyway. My heart raced when her eyes met mine.

In that instant, I knew she belonged with me.

But what is forbidden is not so easily forgotten.

Temptation

Karen Ann Hopkins

www.miraink.co.uk

To my five amazing children;

Luke, Cole, Lily, Owen and Cora,

for walking beside me on this fantastic journey and encouraging me to follow my dreams.

Also, to my mom, Marilyn, for believing in me from day one.

Contents

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Excerpt

Acknowledgments

Rose - Preface

PRESSING MY HEAD to his heart, I listened hard, straining to hear any gurgle or murmur of life. Hearing nothing, I felt the shock settle into my mind, slowing it down and then turning it off.

“Don’t leave me, Noah. Please, don’t go,” I whispered into the darkness as the light spray of rain touched my face.

If only I could turn back time.

I would tell him yes.

1

Rose

Wide-Awake

HOLY CRAP. I watched the churning water rush over the driveway and back into the swollen creek bed. I’d never seen anything like it before, and from the look of incredulity on Dad’s face, neither had he.

Sam and Justin, on the other hand, were enjoying the bizarre scene, wading knee-deep into the current with their street clothes on, splashing each other like maniac dolphins. Actually, now that the storm had passed and the sun was peeking its way out from behind the fluffy clouds, it was beginning to feel like a sauna, and I was seriously thinking about joining my brothers.

“We shouldn’t try to cross this with the truck yet. It’s still pretty high,” Dad said, almost to himself, his fingers playing with his mouth. He continued to survey the obstacle placed directly in the middle of the long, winding driveway leading to our new house.

New was definitely not the right word for the house. I guess “recently acquired historic relic” would be more appropriate for the three-story brick monstrosity on the other side of the raging creek that until a few days ago when we closed on the deal was no more than a lazy trickle.

My dad, who’d decided he wanted to raise his kids in the country, uprooting us from our comfortable suburban house in Cincinnati to move to middle-of-nowhere Ohio, was getting a good dose of country reality. I wondered if he was regretting it. Seeing the distressed look on his face right then, I think he was.

I sighed, wishing Mom were here with us. Then it would all be okay. But she was six feet under, buried in the cold, dark ground of Mount Hope Cemetery. If she were still alive, Dad would never have taken the stupid job as head of the E.R. in this forgotten place, and we wouldn’t be standing here, trying to figure out a way to cross what looked like a small river to get to our house.

My life had been so blissfully ordinary before Mom had died. It was all gone now, just like the churning water rampaging over the driveway, disappearing into the abyss of overgrown grass and weeds on the other side. And there was nothing at all I could do about any of it, except watch it disappear—and maybe cry, which I’d been doing a lot of lately. Fortunately, I was getting used to that feeling of helplessness. I had no control over my life, and it seemed as if no one else did either. It was just an illusion, thinking that we could master our pathetic little worlds. The forces of nature, whether they were Mom’s cancer or the flood rushing by my feet, were beyond my command, and they could steal all the happiness away in a heartbeat.

Up until now, I’d put on a pretty good poker face about everything, from this insane move to the boondocks, to Mom’s five-month-long battle with the illness that changed and distorted her body before my very eyes. When the end came, there wasn’t much left of her, except the brittle and weak shell of her former vibrant self.

It was strange how in that moment of tragedy, it had seemed so unreal, like an old-fashioned movie reel playing on a screen for my eyes only. The pain and broken heart were blocked off for a little while, leaving me numb with disbelief. Shock is what Dad called it. But after a while, the cruel reality started to seep into my tissues, and my body became a sponge, just sucking it all up until, finally, there was so much grief inside, I couldn’t help feeling it.

That’s how it happened for me. First, the numbness right after she died, next the agonizing pain and then the place I was at now—the land of perpetual depression. And to top it all off, I had to pee very badly. How wonderful. Staring at the rushing water wasn’t helping the situation either. Crossing my legs over, I ground my teeth together in discomfort.

“I’m glad Jerry wasn’t planning to bring your horse today. I just hope by tomorrow he can get the trailer through here,” Dad said as he walked by me to the moving truck.

“You’ve got to be kidding—surely the water will be down by then?” I half questioned and half demanded of my father. About the only thing that made this stupid move bearable was that I was looking forward to having Lady, whom I’d boarded at the J & R Stables for the past two years, finally home with me. Even if home was in the flooded sticks. Geez, this is just unbelievable, I thought, watching Sam and Justin slapping the murky water back and forth at each other.

Dad appeared from the cab of the truck and held out a water bottle for me. I vigorously shook my head and said, “I need to go to the bathroom, Dad. I’m going to walk through the water and go to the house. Are you with me?”

“Yeah, here, let me hold your hand. Your brothers haven’t been swept away, but they’re bigger than you.”

Dad grasped my hand and together we waded out into the ice-cold water. It was pretty yucky, too, completely brown and thick with mud and debris. By midway across, it was past my knees, and the water was pushing on us. Not enough to drag us down or anything like that, but I still grasped Dad’s hand tighter. Within a minute we dragged out of the water on the other side, soaking wet but one step closer to the bathroom. I hurriedly made my way up the driveway, leaving Dad behind.

I glanced back over my shoulder to see the barbarians, Sam and Justin, splash through the water like a pair of moose and hit the dry ground running. Of course, they passed by me with ease. How could they run in wet jeans like that? I gave it a quick try, and after two strides, and nearly falling on my face, decided to walk at a normal speed. I knew my limitations.

When I finally reached the rickety old front porch, I smiled smugly at the dorks who were both standing there without a way to open the door. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the key, dangling it in front of them. In an instant I was tackled to the ground by Sam, whom, being a year and half older than me and a football player, I was no match for. He jumped up, flicking his wrist with the keys inches above me. A smile of righteous triumph looked down at me from his face. A face that the arrogant jerk thought was good-looking, with his wide-set sky-blue eyes and Hollywood nose, topped off with a bushy head of unruly golden hair. At six foot two and well muscled, he was way too big for a seventeen-year-old. Sam never lacked for female attention.

It wasn’t fair. Even my cute twelve-year-old brother, Justin, who could have been my masculine twin in coloring and facial features, was bigger than me now. I had no chance at all to win any physical matches with either of them anymore—just reinforcing my theory that the world sucked.

“Hurry up, Sam. I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” I bounced around in place while he fumbled with the key, finally getting the door unlocked. Instead of being able to just open the door like any normal house, it took all three of us to push the stubborn, solid piece of aged wood loose of its frame. When it finally swung open, scraping across the wooden-plank floor, I was through it in a flash, running to the back of the house where I remembered the only bathroom to be. I could just hear my dad complaining that he hadn’t noticed a problem with the door before, when I turned in to the bathroom.

I felt much better when I stepped out into the foyer a few moments later. Until I saw Justin pulling the decades-old spinach-green wallpaper off the plaster as if he was unwrapping a Christmas present.

“What the heck are you doing?” I nearly shouted.

“Hey, look, it’s just coming off. You hardly have to pull the stuff. Isn’t it cool?” Justin said in an excited voice while he continued to strip a section of the wall off in spastic motions.

“Stop it, Justin! It looks even worse now,” I yelled, grabbing his arm, which immediately turned into another wrestling match I would undoubtedly lose in the end.

“Quit it, both of you—now!” Dad appeared out of nowhere, attempting to push his body between us. I was more than willing to stop, but the little jerk had a clump of my long hair in his fist, and until he let go, I wasn’t going to release his ear.

“I mean it…really, you’re behaving like little brats.” Dad had reached his boiling point. I could tell by the way he said brats, as if he was describing two small children who’d just knocked over his favorite vase.

Just as I was getting ready to free Justin’s ear, I heard a loud clearing of a throat from the screen door. We all stopped moving, and simultaneously Justin and I both let go. The three of us turned to the doorway to see an Amish man, with a long, funky chestnut beard, standing there with a look of what could only be called wide-eyed bewilderment. He was wearing a dark blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to the beginning of his well-defined muscles. The black suspenders were odd, as were the old-fashioned-looking pants he was wearing. Something about the man commanded attention, though, and I straightened up further as his eyes passed over me quickly.

“I am your neighbor, Amos Miller. I thought I would come by with my sons to offer you assistance getting settled in…if you need it.” He said it in a relaxed and placid way, directing all his attention to my father, who briskly crossed the floor and opened the door for the visitors.

“Oh, how nice of you, Amos. Ah…I’m David Cameron and this is my daughter, Rose, and one of my sons, Justin.” Dad stopped to look around and then went on, “My other son is Sam, and he’s here somewhere. I’m not sure where at the moment.”

Poor Dad—how embarrassing to be caught breaking up a fight between his kids the first time he meets his new neighbors, and Amish ones at that. Dad had already informed me that we would have interesting and eccentric neighbors here in Meadow View, but this was the first time I’d been so close to any Amish people. My heart started to drum faster when my eyes met and locked on the gaze of the boy standing a little behind and to the side of Amos.

Well, he wasn’t a boy; more like a young man. Amazingly, he was as tall as Sam and as well built—probably the same age, too. His hair was wavy and dark, poised on his head like on one of those European statues of the men with hardly any clothes on. You know, a little on the wild side, but still looking totally perfect. A bit of bronze streaks gave the locks a brindle effect that shone in the soft spray of late-afternoon sunlight coming through the screen door. The hair matched his warm, almond-colored eyes perfectly.

And for the first moment in a very long time, the world didn’t appear entirely in the muted, hazy color of doom. As a matter of fact, it seemed to have brightened considerably in the foyer when it sunk into my hardened brain that he was really cute—like Abercrombie & Fitch poster-guy cute—with his full, curving lips and sculpted nose and cheekbones.

I suddenly became conscious of the fact that I was standing in front of him soaking wet, muddy, with my hair in wild disarray. I could even feel a large portion of the strands sticking out from my head where Justin had pulled them. Figures, I finally meet a guy who makes my heart skip a beat, and I look like the Bride of Frankenstein.

He was appraising me from head to toe with interest in his eyes, subtle, but interested. I wasn’t surprised by his examination of me. I was used to guys checking me out. I discovered three years ago, when I turned thirteen and started to develop little bumps on my chest, that the opposite sex found me attractive. I had been blessed with a slender, athletic body and curves in all the right places. I’d let my thick, acorn-brown hair grow long enough to reach the top of my butt, which guys seemed to appreciate. And on more than one occasion, some member of the male species would tell me how pretty my light blue eyes were. I found it all pretty embarrassing, especially since every time I looked in a mirror, I still saw the same skinny girl with a mouthful of braces that I used to be.

The thing I wasn’t used to, though, was the way this Amish guy looking at me was affecting my body. As if it had just come out of a deep hibernation—all the fluttering and tingling vibrations that were now popping up in the center of my belly were spreading out, letting me know that I really was alive, after all the troubles of the past year.

Hmm…maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, David.” Amos extended his hand and Dad grasped it in a friendly way, which was usual for my dad. “These are my sons Jacob and Noah.” He nodded in turn toward the two young men with him. I hadn’t even noticed the other one, probably because he stood directly behind his father with his eyes lowered, not looking at me at all. Almost rudely, I thought at first, but then it occurred to me that maybe his brother Noah was the rude one. He was still staring at me as if he’d never seen a girl before, only now a slight smirk touched his mouth. I liked his eyes, but I didn’t like the tilt of his lips, and I averted my gaze from his as Sam came bounding into the foyer covered in cobwebs.

“You should see how creepy the cellar is! There were actually some animal bones…” His voice trailing off, he was clearly surprised to see the Amish guys standing there.

“Well, we’ve found Sam. Sam, these are our new neighbors.” Dad motioned over at the guests with an impatient sweep of his hand, and Sam went forward automatically to shake their hands like a well-trained doctor’s son.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sam said in the courteous voice he didn’t use much and definitely never used with me.

“What kind of bones do you think they are?” Noah asked curiously. For the moment, he’d lost interest in me, sending a ripple of irritation through my body. But I had gotten to hear his voice, and it was deep and sexy.

“Don’t know. Do you want to see ’em?”

Noah glanced at his father, who nodded once, and then he answered my brother. “Sure, let’s go.”

That’s just great. Within two minutes, fun-loving, happy-go-lucky Sam had made a friend—a gorgeous friend whose eyes made my stomach do flips. And even though I was cold and uncomfortable in my wet clothes, I decided to follow the boys and see what the fuss was all about in the cellar. The opportunity to spend more time with my hot neighbor had nothing to do with the trip underground, I told myself as I hurried to catch up.

We started down the crumbling rock steps, and Sam hit the switch, lighting the only bulb I could see. It was one of those scary dangling bulbs that are in all the horror movies. A chill ran through me, and I didn’t think it was just because of the wet clothes. It would be my luck that the house was haunted on top of everything else.

The last step was more like a two-foot drop, and Noah, who was right in front of me, stopped and looked back, offering his hand to help me down. Wow, this was a new experience for me, a guy actually being chivalrous. I spent way too much time with my Neanderthal brothers, I decided. Slipping my hand into his warm, strong grip, I made my way down the last step.

When I reached the floor, he held my hand captive for a few seconds longer than was necessary, sending major goose bumps along my arm. I glanced up at him, and when my eyes met his, he let go. As quickly as he had given his full attention to me, he shifted it back to Sam, following my brother deeper into the sooty darkness.

The cellar could have just as well been a New York sewer, as damp and murky as it was. I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to warm myself in the nasty environment while I lightly stepped over the hard-packed dirt floor. The one little lightbulb only illuminated the area right below it, and the farther reaches of the room—and it was big—were inky black, except for a few shards of light slicing through the darkness from cracks in the rock foundation. I wasn’t an expert, but the cracks were probably not a good thing. Another part of the house Dad must have missed.

The light, sticky touch of something on my neck and face made me shriek, and I grabbed at it, swatting it away with my fingers in a panicked motion. Realizing it was a giant spiderweb, I wondered where Charlotte was—probably crawling around in my hair. Frantically, I plucked the rest of it off me, shaking my head vigorously.

“You okay?” It was Noah and he crossed the few feet back to me. I was happy that he was focused on me again, but I felt pretty stupid reacting like that to a cobweb.

“Fine. I’m fine. It’s just that I can hardly see anything down here and—ugh, spiderwebs are just nasty.” I looked up at his shadowed, almost-obscured face. I felt the flutter in my stomach again.

“Come on, Rose, don’t be such a—girl!” Sam admonished me, and for once I kind of had to agree with him.

There was a minute of silence while Sam searched the ground, using his cell phone’s dim light before he kneeled down on the dirt floor and announced, “Here they are, in the corner.”

Noah went to join Sam at the skeleton. With my hands out in front of me, trying to catch any more of the webs before they touched my face, I moved up behind them and peeked over their shoulders. As far as I could see, which wasn’t much in the limited light, Sam had made a big deal out of nothing. It was just a small animal. But then I hoped there weren’t any critters lurking around upstairs that I’d have to deal with in the middle of the night.

“Looks like an opossum to me,” Noah said, picking the skull up and holding it toward the lightbulb for a close inspection. “It’s pretty old, though. I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

“Ahhhhhhh!” came a nerve-shattering scream behind us, and I nearly jumped out of my wet skin. Even Noah and Sam bolted up, whirling around to see Justin doubled over, laughing hard.

He was so full of himself, he could barely speak, but he managed to spit out, “That was too easy—you bunch of girls!”

As I breathed a sigh of relief, Sam, in a snakelike movement, grabbed Justin and put him into a choke hold in two seconds flat—nothing new there.

“You little shit—just wait till the next time you’re alone,” Sam threatened.

“Boy, you guys are really violent,” Noah observed with humor in his voice.

My brothers and I must seem like the equivalent of a rerun of Jersey Shore to this gentle guy, I thought, wanting to step back into the darkness and hide from embarrassment.

“Hey, you all come up here.” It was my dad, and following the sound of his call, I briskly walked toward the stairway, all too happy to get out of the dark and bony cellar and away from the ridiculous behavior of my brothers.

As I led the way, Noah was close behind me, and I was extremely aware of his proximity. It was as if my body’s nerve endings were on fire or something. I was only slightly distracted from this feeling by the sound of Sam and Justin scuffling behind us as we walked up into the outdated powder-blue kitchen.

Dad was standing there alone, fiddling with the faucet on the yellow-stained porcelain sink. Lifting his eyes, he said, “Mr. Miller was kind enough to invite us for dinner, kids. I looked out the front window a minute ago. The water has receded some, but since it’s getting late, we’ll just grab a few things from the truck tonight and unload the rest in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan, Dad,” Sam said, still holding Justin’s neck in a vise grip, grinning broadly.

“Let go of him, Sam—and since you seem to have so much energy, why don’t you wade back across the driveway and bring our suitcases to the house. Better yet, Justin, you go help him.” His voice resembled a growl. Then, changing his tone back to “friendly doctor,” he told Noah, “Your dad said for you to head back home right away to finish mowing.”

I watched closely as Noah ever so slightly rolled his eyes and sighed. Suddenly, he seemed more like my brothers or any other teenage guy not wanting to do the yard chores. And that little bit of familiarity made me brave. “I guess cutting the grass is a lot of work for you?” I said, imagining Noah surrounded by tall green foliage and hacking away at it with an old-fashioned hand sickle.

Noah’s eyes jumped back at me, startled, and I felt a twinge of worry that I shouldn’t have spoken to him, but he regained his composure quickly and replied, “Actually, the large deck push mower I use is gas powered and makes the job fairly easy. It’s just boring as all get-out, though.” He said it to all of us, but his eyes lingered on me for a few long seconds, his mouth twitching slightly, as if he was holding back a smile.

I was shy again and muttered, “Oh,” not knowing what else to say.

“I’ll see you later,” Noah said in a rush, before he turned and followed Sam and Justin out the door.

The second the door closed, I ran to the front window and watched as my brothers strolled leisurely toward the truck. But I wasn’t really paying attention to them at all. Instead, the image of my new neighbor played over and over in my head.

Nibbling on my pinkie nail, I couldn’t help saying a silent prayer—God, please let the shower work.

2

Noah

Feelings

I MADE MY way leisurely across the hay field, images of the English girl playing over and over in my head. Never in my life had I seen a girl in such a messy state. Amish girls always had their hair neatly pulled up in buns, covered with caps. And their dresses were orderly, unless they were in the garden or helping with the barn chores. This girl actually had mud in her hair and dirt smudging her face. And if that wasn’t incredible enough, she was soaking wet. I had to admit, the soaking-wet part was the most intriguing of all—the way her jeans clung to her legs. And even though the girl had been a complete disaster, she was still amazingly beautiful. Definitely the prettiest girl I’d ever encountered, with her big blue eyes, pouting lips and shapely body. I imagined that if her hair were clean and brushed, it would be soft and shiny, too.

I sure was surprised at the way she’d stared back at me. Those robin’s-egg eyes looked boldly at me, inspecting me openly in front of Father and Jacob. I could only pray they hadn’t noticed her doing it. That was another thing an Amish girl wouldn’t be caught dead doing—staring at a boy in such an inviting manner.

Friends had told me that girls from the outside were very forward, but up until that moment when I came face-to-face with that particular girl, I’d never experienced it personally. I hadn’t been around many before. In fact, the only one I could think of was that silly girl, Summer, whose mom drove us to town sometimes. But she ignored me for the most part and certainly didn’t count. And although she was attractive, she wasn’t as pretty as my new neighbor.

Thinking that I had a beautiful girl living close by brought a smile to my lips. I would be seeing a lot of her, and my parents couldn’t say much about it. After all, how could you avoid your neighbor?

Come to think about it, it was strange that Father had invited the English family over for dinner at all after the way they were behaving when we first walked up to the porch. Father had lifted an eyebrow in surprise at the yelling coming from inside the house before he took a deep breath, rubbed his beard down in a tight motion with one hand and rapped on the screen door with his other.

I was just as shocked as he was to see the fetching girl fighting with her brother like a wildcat. So physically, with no care about who might see or what anyone would think. Amish girls just didn’t do things like that. And although I knew some with tempers, like my sister Rachel, I had never seen one so openly angry before. It was shocking and yet, also refreshing.

The English girl had a liveliness about her that was like the push of wind just before a summer storm arrived. And even though I hated the idea of it, I had to admit, at least to myself, that she had wakened something deep inside me. I shook the prickling sensation away, not enjoying the feeling at all.

When the house came into sight, I could see that even though the grass was soaked from the rain, Peter was already mowing the side yard. That left the front yard for me, and all because church was being held at our place on Sunday and the entire farm had to be in perfect condition for the occasion.

I glanced around in irritation, wondering what kind of mischief the little boys were getting into. One of them could have started on the yard, but as usual, they had run off when a job needed to be done.

I should talk to Mother about it but knew that I wouldn’t. It wasn’t that long ago that I, too, was sneaking off with my friends to listen to an old radio in the woods behind the house or to have a puff off a cigarette that one of the drivers had sold to us for an exaggeratedly high price. I remembered those days all too well and understood my brothers’ need to occasionally escape farm duties and commit acts of rebellion. It was just a part of growing up.

I sighed before sprinting over the spongy grass to the equipment shed. I wanted to get the mowing over quickly so I’d have time to get myself cleaned up for the company. I knew that some of the girls had crushes on me—at least that’s what my sisters said—but this particular female was in a totally different league. For the first time in my life, I wanted to make a good impression on a girl.

Then again, what was I thinking? Even if she did find me attractive, what good would it do? Father and Mother would never allow me to court an English girl, and I felt the heat spread from my face down my neck for even considering it. What kind of trouble was I inviting into my life by even allowing such thoughts into my head?

Ever since I turned eighteen back in April, Mother had been hounding me incessantly about every available Amish girl in the community. She had informed me which girls were from the best families, which ones were the most robust, and on and on. The talk had been annoying the tar out of me.

The funny thing was, up until the moment I’d laid eyes on the pretty outsider, I had begun to come to terms with my inevitable destiny. I would pick a girl, start the courting process and eventually settle down in marriage with her. And I was almost looking forward to the idea of courting. The thought of finally being allowed to be around a female other than my sisters was beginning to appeal to me. But, when I hung out with the guys, talking about the prospects, I just wasn’t able to get excited about any of the girls the way my friends did. There were a couple of them I thought had sweet dispositions and attractive faces, but now they just paled in comparison to the lively English girl.

The main problem was that no one in the community had struck my fancy yet. They were all boring. And they acted so shy around me, never speaking up the way my new neighbor did in her kitchen. At first, her question, and in front of her father and brothers, had stopped my heart, but then I realized with a quick scan of my eyes that her family didn’t take her forwardness as wrong behavior. If one of my sisters had spoken so directly to a boy in my father’s presence, he would have immediately taken her aside and chastised her for openly flirting.

As I unscrewed the cap on the gas tank of the mower, my mind raced. Even though I tried to block the curiosity from spilling over, I started to wonder about the girl. How old was she? What did she like to do?

Did she have a boyfriend?

The last question made me pause, and suddenly I felt unreasonably jealous—a foreign emotion to me. Why should I be jealous when I only just met the girl, and she was English besides? I knew the English kids began courting really young. I reckoned she was probably around sixteen, which was just old enough to begin courting in the community. But for an English girl, she might already have had several boyfriends.

That was a troubling thought.

“What did you think of our new neighbors?” Jacob asked quietly enough but still busting into my thoughts as he managed to sneak up on me. He stopped for a moment, his bright brown eyes waiting, with the harness over his shoulder.

I shrugged, not wanting him to know about my infatuation with an outsider. “They seem like nice people.”

“I noticed the way you looked at that girl. I admit she was pretty, but don’t be developing any ideas, Noah. It’ll only get you into a whole heap of trouble with Father and Mother—and the church,” he said sternly.

“Why did Father even invite them over for dinner if the elders are so adamant about us not interacting with the English, especially the ones our age? It makes no sense,” I retorted, irritated that my almost-twenty-year-old brother was already giving me a rough time about the girl, and I’d only just met her. Why did everything have to be so difficult?

“Mr. Cameron is a doctor and he’s going to be working at the hospital in town. Father feels that he’s an important English man to know. But, and let me stress this to you, little brother, that doesn’t include his wild daughter.” With that, Jacob headed for the barn.

“Where are you going?” I asked, cross that he would threaten me and then walk away like that. Maybe the English kids had the right of it. Perhaps I should just beat the tar out of him for being so condescending to me. I was confident I could whip him in a fair fight.

“I’m going to pick up Katie. She’s coming for dinner, too.” He answered without turning to me and then disappeared into the barn.

Pity quickly replaced anger. Katie was Jacob’s betrothed. They were marrying in November, and ever since he began courting her, he had completely changed. He’d become one of them—the strict “follow the rules of our church’s Ordnung and never have any fun” adults in the community. The transformation had happened almost overnight once Father and Mother had agreed to the courtship. Jacob began spending every Sunday evening at Katie’s house, arriving home after midnight with a goofy smile on his face. It was astonishing what a little bit of kissing could do to a fellow’s brain. It was like a disease or something, and once a man caught it, he was doomed to never have any fun again.

And although it seemed like a distant memory now, it was only a couple of years ago that Jacob had insisted, in secret, of course, that he’d leave the Amish and go English when he reached eighteen. Unlike me, he hadn’t taken to the farmwork as readily, and with his sharp mind, he’d been all too interested in the many gadgets that the outsiders had in abundance.

I was never tempted by such things. They were just…things, and confusing at that. But Jacob had been different. From the time he was small, his mind had been overactive. Unable to fight his urges, he had filled his curiosity in many ways; by studying the engine in the driver’s truck or playing with the computers and games that were on display at the local stores—all to our parents’ chagrin.

Believing that he was a brother lost to me, I was surprised when he did a full turnaround after choosing to court Katie. Now everything had changed—Jacob was one of the most dedicated young Amish men in the community

The same fate would catch me someday, too. It was inevitable. I’d watched all the older boys go through the same process, and many of them had been so adamant about leaving the community and going English. ’Course, they never did. It was easy to talk about it—and maybe even yearn for it—but to actually do it was a whole ’nother story. Surviving in the outside world was not an easy thing, especially for someone who’d been raised Amish. But it seemed that all desires to go outside the community and experience the English lifestyle were extinguished when a pretty girl came along.

Unlike the others, there’d never been a time in my life when I wanted to leave my world. The ties I had with my family and the members of the church were very important to me. I loved working the farm and driving the horses—I wouldn’t trade those things for any of the comforts and entertainment of the English people.

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, telling 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 vocabulary, 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.

Most guys wouldn’t be caught dead dressing exactly like their brothers, but hey, it seemed to be expected with these people. I also observed for the first time that the pants the boys were all wearing were extremely dark navy blue and homemade. They all had matching haircuts, too, with their hair left full on top and trimmed neatly at the ears and neck. I decided that these boys were good-looking enough to pull the hairdo off very well.

Noah’s eyes met mine, and the way he was gazing at me made me glance away quickly. It was almost as if we already had a thing going on. He sort of looked at me in a possessive way, making me blush. I definitely didn’t want him to see that. But maybe he liked me, too. At least that’s what his eyes were saying. I could only hope, I thought, not willing to acknowledge just yet that I actually had a crush on him.

While I was getting all hot and bothered by Noah’s eyes, a woman and two teenage girls came out of the house. They were all wearing blue dresses, in varying shades. The mother was in navy and the girls a lighter sky-blue. They also wore identical stiff white caps on their heads, with dangling narrow ribbons on each side, and black old-fashioned tennis shoes on their feet. What I could see of their hidden hair, the girls had lighter brown locks than the boys. I could tell nothing at all about their personalities from their outfits, and their faces were emotionless. Without having made a quick mental note about their slightly differing facial features and the freckles dotting the taller one’s nose, I would have been hard-pressed to tell the two sisters apart.

After inspecting them from head to toe, I decided that it must be extremely uncomfortable to dress like that all the time. Being a dancer, I was accustomed to having my hair in a tight bun, with a dozen bobby pins holding my wild mane in place—and I hated wearing my hair up on performance days. The bun always gave me a headache, and these poor girls had to endure that pain every day.

As I gazed at the women, noticing that they wore no makeup at all and that the clothes concealed their figures completely, I felt a strong sense of pity for them. It seemed they weren’t allowed any individuality at all.

It was then that I caught the tiny girl staring up at us. Her cap was jet-black and her dress a tiny replica of her mom’s. She was without a doubt the cutest child I’d ever seen. I gathered that she didn’t have many non-Amish people visit often by the way she was gawking at us with her mouth wide open.

There were so many kids. Surely they weren’t all Noah’s siblings. I counted eight, including Jacob, who was now coming up the driveway in an open buggy being pulled by a trotting, high-headed bay horse. Sitting next to him was a young Amish woman dressed in lavender. When they parked, I saw that she had a very pretty round face with a rosy complexion. She greeted me with a friendly smile.

My eyes were quickly drawn to the horse and buggy. How cool it would be to ride in one. That was the best part about being Amish, I imagined, riding around in the buggies. But I would definitely hate never being able to drive a car. I had my permit now and couldn’t wait to get my license. The very idea that none of these people would ever drive a car was mind-boggling to me.

Dad’s voice, thanking the Amish for the invitation to dinner, interrupted my thoughts, and then Mr. Miller proceeded to introduce his wife and all the kids. I tried to pay careful attention to each name, desperately attempting to quickly imprint to memory their faces and names. In the end, I knew I’d never be able to remember them all, especially when they looked so similar in dress and physical features. I couldn’t believe such a little woman gave birth to all those kids. Didn’t they use any birth control? I mean, who’d want to have that many children anyway?

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the gathering when the introductions were finished until one of the boys— Peter, I think, but I wouldn’t bet on it—offered to show us some puppies. It sounded like a great idea to me. A way to escape from the intense scrutiny I was beginning to feel.

I wanted Sam to come, too, and poked his arm. Thankfully, he turned and walked with me, following the boys, who had pulled away from us in their mad dash to the barn. He must have been feeling the heebie-jeebies also, or he probably wouldn’t have come.

In a whisper, Sam bent down to me and said, “That was awkward.”

Before I could answer, Noah fell in beside Sam. A quiet happiness spread through me and all because he was coming with us. How pitiful of me. Surely it was impossible to become love struck in a few hours? I had to control my facial expressions, I warned myself. I didn’t want him knowing.

Momentarily distracting my brain were the little puppy noises, whining and grunting, as we entered the open, airy hallway of the barn. The inside was as well kept as the outside, with a swept aisle and halters hung neatly on the pegs outside each black stall door. The smell of freshly baled alfalfa hit my senses immediately and I breathed the lush leafiness of it in deeply. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Noah look in my direction when I made the noise, with a quizzical look on his face.

“This is a great barn.” I dared to look right at him, and he smiled slightly.

“Thank you” was all he said, but he continued to watch me intently, with that same appraising manner he’d had when we first met in the foyer. I wondered what was going through his brain, when Justin called out to me.

“Rose, you’ve got to come here and see—there’s ten of ’em.” His voice was thrilled, and I reluctantly tore my gaze away from Noah to join Justin in the box stall.

I caught my breath, seeing that they were Australian shepherds. What a coincidence. I plopped down on the thickly straw-covered floor, picking one of the squirming little things up and holding her to my face. She was a blue merle, with a smoky-colored coat and sapphire eyes—a puppy-size twin of our Aussie, Misty. She had passed away from old age about the same time Mom had died of cancer, making the days surrounding Mom’s death even darker.

The dear little pup started to whine and wiggle, so I soothed her against my neck, smelling in the wonderful puppy smell.

“Do you think Dad will let us get one?” Justin asked me while petting two of the pups, a red one and a blue one, on his lap.

“Maybe… It’s been a while since Misty died, and he did say that we could get another dog eventually.” I looked over at Sam, who was sitting next to the mama dog, scratching her head.

“The only way he’s going to go for it is if you beg him, Rose, with that teary-eyed thing you do.” Sam quickly added, speaking to Noah, “Dad spoils her rotten. Anything she wants, she gets.”

Anger flaring in me, I countered, “That’s not true, Sam,” giving him a withering look.

“It is so true, Rose. That’s why you have to ask him!” Justin begged.

I rolled my eyes and sighed at the same time Noah sat down in the straw next to me. He picked up a puppy, distractedly rubbing its fur while he turned to me, saying, “So you have your father wrapped around your finger?”

I was glad he was talking to me, but I didn’t feel like defending my uncanny ability to get my dad to agree to almost anything. It really wasn’t any of his business, I decided, slightly bugged.

Shrugging my shoulders, I changed the subject. “What grade is Sarah in?” I asked him instead of answering his question.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the question I asked or the one I didn’t answer.

“Ah…she’s done with school.” He said it slowly, as if he was talking to a stupid child.

“Why? How old is she?” I had guessed she was my age, and I was kind of hoping that we could be friends. Maybe she was older than I thought.

“She’s sixteen,” Noah replied as he changed out the puppy he was petting for a different one.

I looked around at the other three boys and noticed that they were all staring at me, again in that scrutinizing way. It was definitely less intimidating coming from the cute little boys but still irritating.

Noah’s words about his sister’s age suddenly sunk in.

“How long do you go to school for?” I asked Noah somewhat harshly and regretted the edge to my voice when his eyes widened in surprise.

“Eighth grade,” he said simply, holding my gaze.

“Sweet—if I were Amish, I’d be done with school next year!” Justin exclaimed, like any normal thirteen-year-old boy would at the thought of being finished with school at that age.

Then Sam got into the conversation. “Don’t you guys ever go to college?” he asked in amazement.

“No.”

After waiting a few seconds, and realizing he wasn’t going to elaborate on his answer, I asked, “What does your sister do every day, then?”

This time, instead of Noah answering, Peter beat him to the punch, saying in a matter-of-fact way, “She does the laundry and cleans the house, of course.”

Sam and Justin, in unison, started rolling with laughter. I, on the other hand, with my feminist side rearing up in anger, said, “You’ve got to be kidding.” I glanced at Noah, the mild shoulder shrug and expression on his face confirming what Peter had said.

“What’s so funny?” the middle boy asked quizzically as he watched my brothers make fools of themselves while they laughed in the straw.

“Sam, Justin—stop it!” I ordered.

When they finally quieted, Justin looked at me sheepishly and said, “Gee, Rose, maybe you can come over here and get some laundry and cleaning lessons from their sisters. They can even teach you how to cook!”

Sam started laughing all over again, and the look I directed at Justin caused him to quickly press closer to the three boys who sat farther away from me. If those boys hadn’t been staring bug-eyed at me, I would have jumped on Justin, pulled his hair out and then killed him. For him to say something like that in front of Noah—I was too angry to say anything, fearing I’d probably cuss Justin out, and that was the last thing those boys needed to hear.

The only sounds were the puppy noises and Sam clearing his throat when he finally recovered from his hysterics. What he said next surprised me and made me suddenly love him. “Oh, Justin, Rose has done a good job taking care of us since Mom died.” Sam said it quietly. The mention of Mom made Justin lower his eyes and stare at the puppies in his lap.

“How long ago did your mom die?” Noah asked Sam in a surprised voice. He turned his head and was watching me when Sam answered him.

“I guess it’s been about nine…or ten months now,” Sam murmured thoughtfully, glancing in my direction. Actually, it had been exactly ten months and one week. I didn’t want to keep track of it, but somehow my mind would add on the days subconsciously.

“I’m sorry about that,” he told Sam, but his eyes seemed to change to a deeper brown, like chocolate, and they were looking into mine with compassion. The trance was broken by the sound of a loud ringing bell. The three boys jumped up, placing their puppies next to the mama’s nipples and hurrying out of the stalls. Peter lingered, pressing his face against the black bars on the stall—watching.

“Dinner bell,” Noah confirmed with amusement, twitching his lips. The boys’ actions worked perfectly to lighten the mood, and I reached over to put my puppy back with her mother.

Before I had a chance to stand, Noah was already up, offering his hand to me, which I immediately took. He was strong and pulled me up easily. There was an electric current flowing between us, and I didn’t want to let go, but I felt him start to release, so I followed suit. When we broke contact, the feeling vanished, to be replaced by a strange emptiness in me.

What was even stranger was when I caught the way Peter glanced from me back to Noah, with brown eyes wide with alarm. The look sent a prickling down the back of my neck, and abruptly I understood that my infatuation with Noah would probably not be welcomed by his family. Noah didn’t seem to notice his brother staring, and when Sam and Justin went through the doorway, I shot a quick smile of thanks up at him and followed them out.

Inwardly, my mind shook the tickling sensation of foreboding away as we made our way out of the barnyard. Before we even reached the steps to the house, the delicious fragrance of food was coming out the open windows, settling into the summertime air. Trying to be subtle, I sniffed in the wonderful smells and picked up my pace a bit, discovering how hungry I was. Noah jumped in front of me right as I reached the door, grabbing it before it swung shut in my face after Justin let it go.

“Thanks,” I said softly, dropping my eyes.

Noah shrugged and averted his eyes as if he was shy again. Or maybe he was just embarrassed by how rude my brother was.

I stopped a few feet inside the doorway, right next to Sam. Noah continued by us, walking over to stand beside Jacob. As I scanned the room, I first saw that the dining room and kitchen were combined into a gigantic space with an equally giant-size rectangular wooden table in the center of it. Okay, I’ve seen big tables before, but this one was ridiculous, with long benches on each side of it and chairs on the ends. It would have been the right scale for the giant’s castle in “Jack and the Beanstalk.”

The next thing I noticed was the long beige countertop running down one side of the room, flanked by a refrigerator and a stove on each side. There was a large ceramic sink in the center of the wall, with an open window directly above it. Momma could definitely serve a crowd in this kitchen.

Then I became aware of something really crazy, and I had to swiftly cross the room again with my eyes to verify what I was seeing. All the men and boys were on one side of the room and the women were on the other. My dad was standing with Mr. Miller, and Justin had gone over with the other boys without even thinking. So that left Sam and me standing in the no-man zone.

Just as I thought that, Sam sauntered across the room to join the other masculine beings, leaving me all alone. Luckily, in the blink of an eye, Sarah came over and silently stood next to me.

It must be an Amish thing, I decided. I wondered what everyone was waiting for until Mr. Miller bowed his head and said, “Let us have a moment of silent grace before our meal.”

Everyone in the room followed suit, and so did I, cheating a little bit when I glanced up with my eyes, without raising my head much, to spy on Noah. I quickly put my head back down after seeing he was staring at me with his eyes wide open and his head only partially bowed. I could have sworn, before I looked away, that he had grinned at me. The second of eye contact had caused all those bizarre feelings to stir up inside me again. I made sure to keep my eyes cemented to the floor for the rest of the prayer.

After a long minute, which seemed more like an hour to my grumbling belly, the family started moving about, indicating that prayer time was over. Mrs. Miller had the food laid out on the long counter and there was a glass of water at each place setting. Just as I was rocking on the balls of my feet, ready to head over to fill a plate, Sarah lightly grasped my arm. I gave her a confused look, which she returned with a friendly smile and a slight shake of her head.

Okay, now what was going on? I stopped, glancing around the room again. The men and boys were in line, from the oldest to the youngest, and the women—even the little toddler—were standing back, patiently waiting for the men to get their food first.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

This is like the Dark Ages, I grumbled inwardly, while my stomach growled. My blood began to boil when Sam bowed his blond, bushy head in a quick, silent laugh and winked at me with an evil grin on his face. I could see he and Justin were enjoying this backward thinking immensely. Dad, of course, was just going with the flow. Being an E.R. doctor, he was rarely fazed by anything, and ever since Mom had died, he just enjoyed doing things that kept his mind distracted—which this whole scene was doing perfectly.

Glancing back over at Sarah, I forced a smile.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

She nodded once and then faced forward again. I was envious of how calm she seemed. She wasn’t fidgeting or swaying or anything, just standing straight as a board, waiting as if she had no interest in the food at all. Maybe she had already eaten? I mean, how else could the women put up with this at every meal unless they snacked in the kitchen before the men arrived? I’d have to remember to ask her about it later.

I decided at that moment that Sarah and I were going to be good friends. It was nice of her to warn me before I made a fool of myself. She could have just as easily let me walk up in front of all the men and commit a major faux pas, but she didn’t. She warned me, making her best-friend material for sure in my book.

I breathed in and tried to look as casual as she was. It wasn’t working, though. I couldn’t keep my body from swaying back and forth from toes to heels, and my fingers wouldn’t stay still either. I watched Mrs. Miller, Katie, Rachel and even little Naomi stand like statues, wondering how the heck they were accomplishing it.

Once most of the guys were through the line, Mrs. Miller moved forward with Naomi, and I was allowed to get a dish with the other girls. Noah walked by me but didn’t even look in my direction—as if I didn’t exist. That irked me, but I wasn’t going to let it show.

I was starving by this time and resolved that I wasn’t going to be shy about eating. After a minute of being forced to leisurely stroll to the counter behind the other girls, I finally reached the source of the delightful smells. Wasting no time, I heaped two pork chops, mashed potatoes and creamy corn onto my plate. I also picked up two pieces of the thick, homemade bread and, to top it all off, a slice of cherry pie. Carefully, I turned and made my way to the table, pausing to see where I should sit.

Just as I expected, the men and boys sat on one side of the long table, and the women were seating themselves on the other side. Dad took the chair to the left of Mr. Miller, who sat farther down the table. I ended up taking the chair across from Noah.

Believe it or not, it wasn’t planned; just happened to conveniently work out that way. Or maybe it was a sign from the universe that the two of us were meant to get together. Either way, I was a happy little camper in my spot.

With so many people at the table, you’d think it would have been quite boisterous, but it wasn’t. The only sounds were the clinking of silverware on ceramic and the voices of Mr. Miller and Dad taking about all manner of things. The conversation started with the topic of the remodeling that our house needed. Mr. Miller offered to meet with Dad the following week to go through our lovely falling-apart home to give him an estimate for the work.

It turned out the Miller family had a building business, and I was secretly about to explode with excitement to hear the possibility that Noah might be spending a lot of time at our house this summer. Of course, he’d be working, but at least I’d get to see him, and that was better than nothing.

I tried to make eye contact with him during the meal, but he kept avoiding my gaze. He’d look over my head, out the window, down the table, but not at me. I was starting to wonder if I’d offended him earlier. I mulled that over while I took each delicious bite. The bread was especially yummy, and I was deliberating whether to get up in front of everyone and go for another piece, when I heard my name mentioned.

“Yes, they do keep very busy. Sam plays football, Justin soccer and Rose dances. As a matter of fact, Rose has been accepted to dance in the Cincinnati ballet youth program,” Dad said proudly.

Finally, Noah looked up at me, only for a second, before staring back at the food on his plate. I could have sworn he had a troubled frown on his face at that instant. He seemed to be listening closely to the conversation, though, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork, without bringing any of it to his lips.

“Dancing? How long have you done that, Rose?” Mrs. Miller asked in a slightly weird, clipped way, causing my face to flush with heat before I answered. I instinctually knew that what I was about to say wasn’t going to please her.

“For about seven years now.” I tried to change the subject. “But I also spend a lot of time riding my horse.”

This time Noah’s eyes shot directly at me, but I had picked up on the vibe that I shouldn’t be caught looking at him in front of his parents, so I didn’t. Instead, I just reveled in the fact that he was looking at me, making me feel both satisfied and disgusted with myself at the same time.

“Do you boys ride also?” Mr. Miller directed the question to my brothers, and Sam answered.

“No. Rose is the equestrian in our family,” he said politely and then went back to shoveling food into his mouth.

“Actually, Rose’s trainer is hauling Lady, her horse, to our place in the morning. I hope the creek is off the driveway by then,” Dad said, voicing his concern.

“Oh, no worries on that. I am sure it will be fine. It is a rare occasion that the creek swells that big. I think it’s been a few years since I last saw it go over your driveway.”

“That’s a relief,” Dad commented before asking Mr. Miller about the lights and the hot water that were powered by natural gas. As I glanced up, I realized that there was a queer odor in the house, and it turned out the smell was coming from the lights over the table.

Interestingly, I wouldn’t even have noticed them except for the smell. They gave off a similar light to an electric bulb. Actually, the house was very comfortable looking. Not at all how I’d imagined people who didn’t use electricity or drive cars would live. The inside was immaculately clean with pristine white walls. The open windows were letting in the dim evening light and allowing a gentle breeze to flutter through the house. I even caught a glimpse of overstuffed burgundy sofas in the adjoining room.

Still, as pleasant as the picture was, the quiet, reserved behavior of all the kids was unsettling. If Sam and Justin hadn’t been starving to death, I was sure they’d have been talking up a storm. But then as I watched my brothers, the thought occurred to me that maybe for once they had the sense, or fear enough, to follow the old saying “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

For the rest of the dinner, Mr. Miller, Dad and Jacob did most of the talking, with creepy Mrs. Miller occasionally asking one of us a probing question like “Who is going to stay with you when your father is at the hospital?”

“No one,” I answered. “We can take care of ourselves.” Then I sneaked a peek at Noah, who was staring at his plate with quivering lips on his handsome mouth. I guess I had managed to amuse him.

Mrs. Miller responded with a “hmm,” and I gathered she thought my answer was not appropriate by the inflection in her voice. But after all, Sam and I would be in college in a couple of years, and Justin wasn’t a little kid. Why would she care? The willies crept into my bones, and I avoided looking in her direction the rest of the meal. But I felt her eyes on me.

Following dinner, I helped clear the table with the women while the guys went out to the front porch. No surprise there. I was at least proud that my brothers and father picked up their own dishes and brought them over to the sink. The other men and boys left theirs on the table. These Amish guys liked to be waited on, that’s for sure, but the women didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, Katie hadn’t stopped smiling through the entire meal.

I didn’t care how gorgeous Noah was. If I ever somehow managed to get together with him, I would have to completely retrain him, sort of like working with a horse. But then, my horse probably wasn’t as stubborn as the Amish boy.

Why on earth had such a thought even come into my mind?

I’d been thinking about all kinds of irrational and strange things since I’d first seen my handsome new neighbor standing in the foyer. It would all be well and good if Noah were a normal guy. But he was Amish. There was no way the two of us would be hooking up—he’d never be interested in someone like me. And even if he were, would I be able to deal with the bizarre world he lived in?

Silently, I worked alongside Katie, scraping the leftover food from the plates into a black bucket and handing them to Sarah, who then washed them in the sudsy water. The kitchen was quiet except for the clinking of the dishes against one another as they were stacked.

My mind drifted, and I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about Mom. Maybe it was the home-cooked meal, I didn’t know, but the sadness pushed softly against me once again.

Before, I had missed her because she was my mom and she was gone, but as I glanced over at Mrs. Miller bustling around the table, I realized what I had really lost when she died—her wisdom. I needed her guidance now more than ever.

I figured Mom would have liked Noah well enough, although I couldn’t help wondering how she would have felt about him being Amish.

Deep down I knew the answer—but I wasn’t ready to acknowledge it yet.

4

Noah

The Beginning

DIM MORNING LIGHT spilled through the open window, along with a trace of chilly air. I quickly sat up, wide-awake and eager for the day ahead, in spite of the fact that I hadn’t gotten much rest the night before. I’d tossed around in bed for hours, it seemed, before finally settling down. It was the first night in a very long time that I could recall not being able to fall asleep straightaway. Usually by the time my head hit the pillow, I’d be unconscious from exhaustion. My days were filled with so much backbreaking work that sleep had never been a problem before. This was hay-baling season after all, and my body was definitely tired. Not my brain, though.

After supper the night before, when I glanced through the window and saw Rose standing with Sarah and Katie at the sink, an unexpected feeling of contentment washed over me. Besides her English clothing, she looked completely natural there with the other girls, behaving like one of our women.

Now that the sun was rising, the conflicting thoughts of the night before faded, and I wondered why I even cared about this girl that could never be mine. After all, Rose was just another pretty girl, right? No. She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Who could blame me for admiring that beauty?

But it was more than her face that had caught hold of me—her lively spirit had connected with me, and that was the scariest part of all. I shook my head trying to erase Rose from it. I reasoned that within a day or two I’d be over the infatuation with the girl—probably the next time I saw her I’d look upon her with just as much boredom as I did the other girls in the community.

But still, I couldn’t keep my insides calm. Today, I would see her again.

Quickly I changed into my work shirt and pants and jogged down the stairs to the dimly lit kitchen, attaching the suspenders as I went. Mother already had a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage patties and hash browns put out for me. I sat and waited for Father and Jacob, who entered the room yawning and stretching. After a brief moment of silence for prayer, I began wolfing the food down.

I didn’t even really taste anything, eating so fast that Mother exclaimed, “What’s the big hurry, son?”

Then I realized the mistake I’d made, and I slowed myself down deliberately. Avoiding Mother’s searching eyes, I said, “I’m just hungry today, that’s all.”

She seemed satisfied with the answer and continued to dish out Father’s and Jacob’s plates.

Of course, the real cause for my hurry was that Father had told Mr. Cameron that we’d be over first thing in the morning to help unload the moving truck. But Mother could never know that.

I had hoped that the English family would have stayed longer after dinner the night before. But when Rose finally stepped onto the front porch with the other girls, her father stood up and thanked us again, saying that he was exhausted and needed a good night’s rest.

I’d caught Rose’s eyes regarding me during dinner, and then when she came out on the porch afterward. That was something a girl shouldn’t do, unless she was already officially courting, and even then she’d be modest about it. But Rose didn’t know any better. And even though I wanted nothing more than to gaze back into her clear blue eyes, Mother was watching me, so I controlled myself and avoided looking at her altogether.

And even though the morning light had made me realize how foolish I’d been for even considering that I could become involved with a girl from the outside world, I still wanted to be Rose’s friend. The only way that could happen was if I made her understand the way things were with my folks so she didn’t get me into trouble with her outgoing ways. The last thing I needed was for Father and Mother to think I liked her. And unless I was reading Rose all wrong, she definitely seemed interested in me. But then again, maybe that was just her normal behavior, being an English girl and all.

Hearing the roar of a diesel engine signaled that our driver had arrived with the work truck. The sound sent a pounding sense of anticipation through me. But I was careful not to let it show, continuing to sit at the table, waiting for Father and Jacob to finish eating.

The touch of the cool morning air invigorated my senses as I stepped out the door. I lifted my eyes to the overcast sky, taking note of the slices in the clouds where the sun sprayed through, convinced that the day would clear up to be a fine one. Stepping lightly over the gravel, I was filled with a sense of excitement that felt downright good.

It was almost seven o’clock when we climbed into Mr. Denton’s faded blue pickup truck. He was about as old looking as the truck was, but I liked him a lot. He was a nice man, playing country music on the radio while we were driving to work sites. Father hated the music but really couldn’t say much about it since the man was dependable.

I squeezed into the little backseat of the extended cab, next to Matthew Weaver, who was seventeen and worked on the crew with us. Matt was a good buddy of mine, but I knew that I couldn’t tell him about my attraction to the English girl. He wasn’t bright enough to keep his mouth shut about it, and if any of the adults found out, they’d tell my folks for sure.

I could already picture myself standing alone in front of the entire church congregation, repenting my sins the way poor Jacob had to do a few years back when he shot those paintballs at the Troyers’ buggy. It was all in fun. Jacob didn’t mean anything by it, and Elijah had shot at Jacob first. But the Troyer boys seemed to always get out of punishment. It was beneficial when your grandfather was the bishop.

Matt’s suntanned, freckled face grinned broadly at me, and he asked how my weekend was as Jacob squeezed in on my other side. The expression on his chubby baby face indicated something was up, and I answered suspiciously. “Fine… Why?”

Rolling his eyes, he snickered. “I heard you had the new English family over for dinner and that the girl is very pretty. At least that’s what Katie told Ella. And she wasn’t happy to hear it neither.”

Amazing how fast news traveled in the community, even without home telephones and computers. Twisting around, I checked to see how close Father was to the truck when he’d said it. Only Matthew Weaver could get away with saying something like that about a girl. He was such a clown that no one paid him much attention—up until now anyway.

Directing a threatening look at him, I hissed, “Shut up about it, all right?” The last thing I needed was his lack of common sense getting Father onto me.

After a few seconds of shock, he recovered from my anger and replied in a dejected voice, “Sure…whatever.”

The two-minute drive over to Rose’s house was free of conversation, with only the drone of country music playing softly against the rumbling of the truck’s engine. Pulling in, I was glad to see that the creek was moving high and swift through the culvert under the driveway, but above it was dry and relatively clear. Only the mud clumps were any indication that water had flooded over the previous day.

The ryder truck was already backed up to the house, and I immediately spotted Sam and Justin carrying a mattress in through the side door. My eyes searched for Rose, but she was nowhere in sight.

“Work quickly, boys, so we aren’t too late arriving at the Schrocks’ place,” Dad ordered, stepping out of the truck.

“We’re really going to help the English unload their belongings?” Matthew asked in cheerful amazement.

“Yes, Matthew, try to calm yourself—you don’t want to scare them with your enthusiasm,” I mumbled, shooting him a disapproving glance.

This time he came close to my ear and whispered, “Do you think they have a game system?”

Ever since we had worked on that English house last year where Matthew had had the chance to sneak in a video game with the teenage boy who lived there, he’d been obsessed with getting another chance to play. I playfully cuffed him on the head, moaning to myself as we climbed into the yellow trailer.

Mr. Cameron was inside, surrounded by towers of cardboard boxes. When he saw us, he stopped and said with obvious relief, “Oh, good, I’m glad you were able to make it. There’s quite a lot to unload here.”

“It shouldn’t take too long with all of us chipping in,” I said after quickly introducing Matthew to Sam and Justin, who’d just entered the shaded compartment. I picked up the closest manageable box and headed eagerly for the house.

Sam caught my arm and pointed to the large black R written on the side, saying, “That goes to Rose’s room, up the stairs, second door on the right. Just leave it outside her door in the hallway.” Then he went back into the trailer.

Funny how that worked out. I smiled crookedly walking up the stairs to the second floor. When I got to the door, I stopped, hesitating. I’d never been in a girl’s room before. Well, besides my sisters’—and that certainly didn’t count. The eagerness I felt earlier suddenly turned to apprehension as I peeked in through the crack where the door was ajar.

After a quick check over my shoulder to see that the stairway was still clear, I rapped softly on the door. I waited a few breaths, but nothing happened. The upstairs was dead silent; the only sounds reaching my ears were those of the others bringing in the boxes below. Impatience gripped me, stealing my sound mind, and I carefully pushed the door open wider.

My heart thumped faster in my chest when I saw her lying there, asleep on the wooden floor. She was curled up in a ball, with a pillow under her head. She had no blankets or cushioning, and she was wearing the same clothes she had worn to dinner the night before. Her hair was spread out around her in a wild halo like what I imagined an angel would look like.

Seeing her on the cold, hard floor, I felt my nervousness quickly disappear. A punch of anger flared within me. A girl shouldn’t have to sleep in this condition, I thought with indignation. My mother could have invited her to spend the night in our guest room—on a soft, comfortable mattress—until her family got her own bed set up.

Rose especially needed the help since she didn’t have a mother of her own to show her how to set up a new household. And as I gazed down at the sleeping angel, the fact that she didn’t have a mother opened my heart even more to her.

If my own mother had understood what Rose’s sleeping arrangements were going to be, she would have been more charitable—I was sure of it. But the abruptness of the dinner invitation the night before had her in a fluster and I couldn’t blame her for the lack of hospitality that she normally showed to those in need.

As I watched the soft rise and fall of the beautiful girl’s breathing, my mind began to change directions and I wondered how she could even sleep like that at all. A second of craziness touched me and I shrewdly looked around to be certain that I was still alone at the doorway.

What I really wanted to do was talk to Rose—so much so that I became brave and took one step into the room.

She was sleeping so soundly I doubted she’d wake up anytime soon, unless she was helped along a little with the process. Glancing back toward the door and seeing it clear, I debated for a fraction of a second and then dropped the box hard onto the floor, hoping, too late, that there wasn’t anything breakable in it.

Her reaction to the noise surprised me, as she yawned big and then mumbled without opening her eyes, “Go away, Justin, you little creep, and let me sleep.”

I had to smile at that. She had a temper even when she was sleeping. And at that moment of staring down at her, the feeling of complete familiarity washed over me, and I was abruptly filled with the desire to be closer to her. All rational thought must have left me, because I carefully crept down to her sleeping body and whispered loud enough for her to hear me, but hopefully not loud enough for anyone else to, “Rose—are you awake?”

Her eyes popped open wide, and she bolted upright with a confused look on her flushed face.

“What are you doing here—in my room—Noah?” she squealed, and I brought my finger to my lips, shushing her.

Whispering, I said, “I was helping unload the truck and…well…you just looked so uncomfortable.” I paused, finishing with, “I thought I was doing you a favor waking you up.”

The emotions playing on her face went from surprise to agitation, and finally, while I unconsciously held my breath, her plump pink lips broke into a wide smile.

“Oh, really, well, thank you so much for rescuing me from a deep and dangerous sleep.” Her voice was smooth, holding a hint of amusement, and I breathed in relief when I realized she was teasing me.

She pulled her legs up to her chin and clasped her hands around them. Looking at me boldly, she asked, “What are you doing today after everything is off the truck?”

At the same time I wanted to be closer to her, I also felt nervous kneeling on the floor only a foot away from her. I stood up and walked to the door again, peering out. When I was confident the coast was clear, I went back and sat down next to her.

At first I was afraid to look directly at her, an action I’d avoided doing with girls my entire life, so I simply stared at the ugly wallpaper. But that was unsatisfying, to say the least, so with all the confidence I could muster, I turned to look directly into her eyes. It was nice when she didn’t turn away.

“I have to go to work. We’re building a house up the road for a new Amish family who moved here from Indiana.”

“Oh,” she murmured softly, appearing to be lost in thought.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs brought me briskly to a standing position. I quickly crossed the room and was in the process of hurrying through the doorway when Sam walked in. He stopped, and after glancing from me to Rose, and seeing what I’m sure appeared to be a guilty look on my face, scrunched up his eyebrows and said in a menacing tone, “Hey, bro, what have you been doing in here with my sister?”

For a second there was dead silence, and I searched my mind for the safest way to respond without causing a scene that would bring Father up the stairs. I didn’t have to worry about it long though when the room was abruptly filled with the sound of Sam’s laughter. He reached out and punched me in the arm. It seemed like a friendly gesture, but damn, he had a solid swing, and I couldn’t help worrying that maybe he was feeling angry behind those laughing eyes.

Winking at me, he said, “Just kidding, Noah. But, man, the look on your face was classic. Come on, I need your help with the couch.”

Glancing over my shoulder as I followed Sam out of the room, I saw that Rose had a wide smile on her face. I couldn’t help shaking my head in wonder at their strange sense of humor.

The next time I saw Rose was in the kitchen about a half hour later. She was still wearing the same clothes and was perched on the only seat in the room, a tall stool. I was happy to see her thoroughly enjoying one of the cinnamon rolls Mother had sent over with us. When she looked up at me, she was licking the sugar off her lips. I wasn’t even sure if she knew what she was doing or how it was affecting me, but I paused for a second, staring at her with all kinds of mischief in my mind.

“This is…awesome,” she said, popping the last bite into her mouth and then reaching for another one. “You have to thank your mom for me, okay?”

“Of course” was all I could manage to say as I watched her begin eating another roll. How on earth she could fit two of those things into her little body was beyond me. She ate more like a boy than a girl. It must be the dancing and riding, I figured.

“So when does your horse arrive?” Finding an opening for conversation, I grasped it.

Her eyes lit up. “Any minute now. Jerry called me a little while ago and said he was almost here.” She went on, talking between bites. “I’m so excited. I’ve always boarded Lady. This’ll be the first time I really get to take care of her on my own. And I can just go out the door and ride her whenever I want.”

At her words, an idea began sprouting in my mind, but before I had the opportunity to say anything, Matt stumbled into the kitchen carrying a microwave. Rose jumped up and showed him where to put it on the counter. I could tell he was trying to be good and not gawk at Rose’s beauty, but he couldn’t help staring at her like a puppy dog.

His dumb-faced attraction to her caused a tightening in the pit of my stomach and I said more briskly than I wanted, “Rose, this is my friend Matthew.” And then to Matt I said, “Would you please wipe that silly look off your face.”

Matt didn’t get the chance because a horn beeped, causing Rose to slip by me. To my astonishment, and right in front of Matt, she did the most irrational, stupid and wonderful thing ever, grabbing my hand with her little one and tugging me along, saying, “Come on, it’s my horse!”

Matt’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes followed me as I was being pulled away by the English girl, who was half my size. Before Father or Jacob had the chance to see, I tugged my hand away from her. When she looked up, her eyes were wide and her cheeks were an attractive pink hue. I was astonished that she hadn’t realized that touching my hand in front of Matt, let alone Father or Jacob, could have gotten me into a mess of trouble.

She lowered her eyes and mumbled an apology before flinging the screen door open. She ran out to the driveway, where an extremely large, fancy aluminum horse trailer was parked behind an equally impressive shiny red pickup.

Even though we weren’t allowed to drive, that didn’t mean we didn’t appreciate nice vehicles when we saw them. For a minute I admired the truck, before being distracted by Rose excitedly hugging the man and woman who were getting out of the truck. She displayed her emotions so forcefully, whether she was snarling at one of her brothers, hugging her friends or just talking to me with her velvet voice. She did everything with such intense feeling that I imagined she must get exhausted from it. Like a flash of lightning, I understood why she’d grabbed my hand in the kitchen—she simply couldn’t control herself.

I continued to watch her as she went to the back of the trailer and disappeared for a minute, only to reappear leading a leggy dapple-gray mare who moved with an arched neck and raised tail. The horse had an exquisite head and I guessed she was an Arabian.

After another minute of enthusiastic chatter, the couple left to talk to Mr. Cameron, leaving Rose alone. I took the opportunity I was given and swiftly walked to her. Catching her arm for a second to stop her, I immediately let go, glancing around for spies. I was standing inappropriately close to her, so close that I could actually feel her without even touching her. It was as if there was a tingling substance in the air between us, and I breathed deeply, collecting myself before I spoke.

“You know, Rose, right across the road is a farm that we’re allowed to ride on. There are fields and woods.” Quickly I scanned the area again to make sure no one had noticed us. I rushed the words out, fearing I wouldn’t get another chance. “Do you want to meet me over there this evening and go for a ride together?”

I held my breath for her answer.

“That sounds great!” she replied with an impish smile.

By the exuberant way she answered, I realized that she didn’t understand that we needed to be very careful about what we were beginning to do. I mean, this was serious business—making plans for a secret meeting with an English girl. After another sweep of my eyes for an audience, I whispered, “We need to keep this a secret, Rose. My parents wouldn’t allow me to be out riding with you. You need to be extra careful that no one sees us together or guesses that we’ve become friends. No one in the community can be trusted about this—even Sarah. They wouldn’t understand. Okay?”

When she nodded her head surely, her eyes glinting with serious concentration, I knew she would keep her lips sealed on the matter. I continued, “You’ll see a green metal gate. Just go about sixty feet past it, up the hill, and you’ll find a break in the fence. There’s a worn hoof path in the trees at the opening. Once through it, follow the dirt lane straight. Don’t make any turns, and I’ll meet up with you around seven o’clock.”

“Noah, come on, we’re leaving,” Jacob’s voice called out from near the house. It was just dumb luck that he hadn’t looked back this way and seen me standing close enough to Rose to kiss her. That would not have been good, and I felt the unease of that realization spread through me as I took a step back from her. After a quick search of her eyes, I knew she’d do what I’d asked, so I gave her a smile and a nod, before I turned and leaped into a run toward the work truck.

As we were backing around, I shifted in the seat to look out the window. Rose was leading the frisky horse, which was prancing alongside her, back to the old barn behind the house.

If everything worked out as planned, I’d finally get the chance to be completely alone with Rose. Taking a deep breath, I stared out the window, my heart thumping in my chest as I felt the worry settle over me.

What had I gotten myself into?

5

Rose

Flame

THE DAY TRUDGED on, going nowhere, it seemed. And even though I had a million things to do to occupy my time, I continued to glance at my phone every few minutes, hoping that the magic time of six o’clock would suddenly appear—the time when I felt it would be reasonable to head out to the barn and get Lady ready for the ride.

The ride—just thinking about it stirred shivers of excitement through me. Still, a tingling doubt ran through my mind. Why was it such a secret anyway? We were just going riding together—not a big deal at all. Were Noah’s parents always so strict with him? And why would his community care about it? Maybe I’d get some answers this evening. Right now I would go with my instincts, which were telling me that I had to get to know my handsome neighbor better—even though the whole cloak-and-dagger thing was kind of weird.

After a minute of searching through the clothes in the box, I became impatient that I wasn’t finding what I was looking for and dumped the contents unceremoniously on the floor.

Distracted for a split second, I contemplated turning over a new leaf regarding my clean-room policy, which was basically never having one. But then, surveying the clothes scattered around the floor, I decided I liked having my room like this. It was sort of homey, and it drew attention away from the eighty-year-old peeling wallpaper, with the faded pictures of George Washington look-alikes dancing and playing instruments. That was definitely a good thing.

I thought about just tearing the chaotic paper off the walls the way Justin had in the foyer, but then I’d have to clean it all up, and I didn’t want to deal with that at the moment. Again I looked at my cell, groaning that only a whopping two minutes had passed since I’d last checked.

Leaving the walls as is for the time being, I hopped over the piles of clothes to lean out the window. It was strange not having a screen in it. I was sure birds would be flying around my room in no time, but the alternative was closing the window and dying of heatstroke, which wasn’t really an option. I had to remember to add the window to Dad’s ever-growing list of repairs for Miller’s Construction. That made my mouth spread into a little smile, thinking that the longer the list, the more I’d be seeing Noah, which suited me just fine.

Closing my eyes, I held my face up to the sun, relishing the heat as it absorbed into my skin. The day had grown almost unbearably humid, but I was glad for the hot temperature. It gave me the opportunity to wear one of my cute summer tank tops this evening.

After several minutes I grew bored with the facial tanning and instead checked out the view from the bedroom window. I’d picked this room for two reasons. First, I could see the field Lady was in, and right now she was peacefully munching grass under a big oak tree. And second, I could see the Miller farm. I never would have told anyone about the second reason.

Spinning away from the window, I dropped to the mattress on the floor. Lying on my belly on top of the cozy comforter, I pressed my face into one of the mushy pillows that now adorned my temporary sleeping arrangements, all too happy that I’d have a soft place to sleep that night.

I still couldn’t believe that I’d woken to see Noah peering down at me with a look of extreme irritation on his face. What a shocker that was. Never in a million years had I expected to see him in my room. But what really got me was that he seemed genuinely concerned about me sleeping on the floor. I was used to guys paying attention to me, but this was the first time one actually gave a crap about me personally. His concern touched a deep place in me that had never been fooled with before.

Quite frankly, I was so exhausted by the time I went to sleep the night before that I was like a zombie and couldn’t have cared less where I slept, as long as I had the chance to close my eyes. When we’d returned after dinner, the water was down enough that an invigorated dad drove the ryder truck up to the house and Sam followed with his big dually truck, also fully loaded with boxes. After spending the following four hours unloading Sam’s truck and unpacking some basic necessities, I nearly passed out in the kitchen. That’s when Dad directed us all to find some clear floor space somewhere and go to sleep.

I had to admit that I was a little stiff this morning, and my lower back was tight, but hopefully my body would loosen up during the ride. Again I looked at my cell and was pleased to see that ten more minutes had passed since my last check.

Getting ever closer…

I rolled onto my back and frowned, remembering what Noah had said about his parents not being happy if he was with me. I wasn’t stunned at the revelation. I’d sensed that at dinner, but it still bugged me. Everyone always loved me—my friends’ parents, my teachers, my dance coaches. Noah’s family had no right to form opinions about me when they didn’t even know me. The idea that they would find him being with me offensive just wasn’t right, and it was going to create a lot of problems. You could only sneak around for so long before something had to give, and I didn’t get the feeling that Amish people gave in much. I mean, after all, they lived their lives as if they were stuck in a rerun of Little House on the Prairie and they did it forever. Never doing so many things I automatically took for granted, like driving, going to movies or listening to music.

While we’d been unpacking, Sam, Justin and I attacked Dad with questions about our new neighbors, and although he admitted he was no expert, he did tell us a bunch of interesting things. I was looking forward to asking Noah more about his life tonight.

Sleepily I closed my eyes, listening to the shuffling and thuds of the guys moving furniture around downstairs. I hoped they all left me alone so I could take a little catnap. Within a few minutes I was drifting away, an image of a black buggy with Noah at the reins the last thing in my mind.

* * *

“Rose, wake up. Rose. Rose!” I heard Justin but ignored him, all too warm and comfortable curled up in the plushy comforter. The afternoon sunlight was down far enough to leave the room in a dull, dreamlike haze and I burrowed deeper into the softness, close to falling back asleep. Then the little twerp had the nerve to grasp my shoulders and start shaking me violently. That woke me up.

With all my weight I hurled myself onto him, knocking him off the mattress. Satisfaction filled me as I observed Justin lying on his back on the floor. But the feeling was short-lived, replaced with a panic attack when it suddenly occurred to me how late it was. Swiftly I slid across the mattress, frantically searching for the phone.

Once my hand grasped it under the sheet, I said a silent prayer and peeked at it. Yes! I danced in my head when I saw that it was five o’clock, early enough to leisurely start getting ready, but late enough to be almost ready to go. Perfect. I bounced up, grabbing the clothes I’d set aside for the occasion.

“Gee, Rose, you didn’t have to do that,” Justin said, rubbing his head.

I figured I had five seconds to spare, so I rounded on him and hissed, “What do you want?”

“I was going to invite you to go with Sam and me to the movies in town tonight. Dad went to the hospital to get his office in order, so we thought we’d eat dinner out and go see the Transformers movie.”

“You’ve already seen it twice. Isn’t there something else playing?” I suggested impatiently.

“We like that movie. It has everything—robots, explosions and a hot babe.” Justin smiled slyly.

“You’re too young to be interested in hot babes,” I informed him with my nose wrinkled in disgust. “But I’m not going, so I don’t really care what you guys waste your money on. Now get out of my room so I can change.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked keenly. Maybe he was growing a brain.

That would be dangerous.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but if it gets you out of my room faster, I’m going for a ride.”

With that I pushed Justin out the door and locked it behind him. A few minutes later I was dressed, and hearing Sam’s truck engine revving up, I leaned out the window to watch him drive away—perfect timing again.

Turning to the big round mirror attached to my retro-style dresser, I studied my reflection. I left my long, wavy hair down, with a few stray curls around my face. I decided to put a little blush on my cheeks and some gloss over my lips. Less was definitely more with Amish guys, I determined. Besides, I didn’t wear much makeup anyway.

Standing back, I admired myself in the mirror. I looked pretty good. Hmm, except the top. Maybe it was just a bit too formfitting. Turning sideways, I was impressed to see how I was filling the shirt out this year. I certainly didn’t remember looking so…developed in it last year. Yeah, probably the wrong shirt for a guy who was used to seeing women dressed in smocklike dresses. I took it off and rummaged through the closest pile on the floor.

I finally decided on a cute light blue top that had a little lace along the collar. His family seemed to like blue, and it hugged my chest just enough, without being trampy. And the lace made it feminine—just right.

Stopping in the kitchen briefly, I spread mayonnaise on two slices of bread and stuck a thick piece of cheese between them, proceeding to eat quickly. Justin’s comment about my cooking popped into my head, and I was doubly glad I had body slammed him. I was in too good of a mood to dwell on it, though, and let my obnoxious brother slip from my mind, to be replaced with thoughts of Noah.

Catching, grooming and saddling Lady didn’t take much time, and when I did the final time check, it was six-thirty. The exact time I wanted to be heading up the road.

Easily, I found the opening Noah had told me about, and once on the other side, I was delighted to see the fields went on as far as I could see. There were pockets of woods dappling the scenery, separating one hay field or crop from another. The picture was breathtaking enough to have been plucked from an art-gallery wall. And the property was isolated by a thick row of trees along the road, making it a superb place for a secret meeting. The lane was wide and level, spotted intermittently with grass and dirt. After a few minutes of getting used to the new surroundings, I squeezed Lady into a canter, reveling in the exhilaration of her muscles moving beneath me as we sped up, the wind whipping my hair back.

I was so into the joy of the ride that I failed to hear another horse moving up behind me fast. Almost too late, I caught sight of Noah from the corner of my eye, just in time to urge Lady faster before he passed us.

Glancing sideways, I saw him grin wickedly at me, and I knew the game was on. Leaning lower over my horse, I moved with her, pushing with my lower legs, asking for still more speed. We were going so fast tears were developing at the corners of my eyes—still I urged her on.

He was right alongside us, and if Lady swayed at all in his direction, we’d brush legs hard. I didn’t care, though. I wanted to win. I saw the challenge in his eyes, and I knew Lady was fast. Faster than the tall bay buggy horse he was riding. And even if she wasn’t, I was sure my Arabian could keep the race close.

But before either of us won, we ran out of running space as the path narrowed and I could see a sharp turn ahead leading into a stand of trees. Noah held out his hand, indicating for me to slow down, and I responded in unison with him and his horse, reining down to a walk right before the turn.

Sitting up and patting Lady vigorously on the neck, I exclaimed, “That was awesome! I would have beaten you if we’d had more room.” I exhaled loudly, still filled with the powerful adrenaline rush.

“Your horse is really fast,” Noah commented, catching his breath. He studied her for a moment and then brought his eyes up to me with the same admiring look on his face.

Blushing, I glanced away, feeling butterflies spreading out in my stomach. It was a strange feeling, being both pleasant in one way and totally unsatisfying in another. When I got the nerve to turn back to him, he was still silently watching me, this time with an unreadable expression.

“Wow,” I breathed. “Do you do that often?”

“No. That’s the first real race I’ve run in several years,” he answered thoughtfully.

“Why?” I asked him, relaxing in the saddle, swaying with the movement of the horse.

Pausing to answer, he said, “Well, since I’ve been done with school and working full-time, I just don’t have much time for joyrides. Then when I do, it’s difficult to make plans with my friends. There’s always so much to do around the farm.” He scowled and I suddenly felt sorry for him. He was too young to have to work all the time.

I was miffed and without thinking I blurted out, “Do you like being Amish?”

He sighed, scanning the trail ahead, brooding over my question for an amount of time that I was becoming uncomfortable with, when he finally answered, “Yes, I like being Amish—for the most part.” He glanced over at me with a slight tilt to his mouth and then continued, “I enjoy the simple way of life we have, the sense of community and the closeness of our families.”

After considering what he said for a minute, I asked with astonishment, “But don’t you want to be able to drive a car or watch TV?”

He laughed at that, shooting me a look of amusement. “Do you think those things are so important?” His grin spread into a full-blown smile. “I can get to most places I want to go in my buggy, and if I need to go farther away, I hire a driver. And you know…there are more enjoyable things to do at night besides watch TV.”

He eyed me speculatively. When comprehension dawned on me, my eyes widened and a blush heated my face, causing him to chuckle.

Okay, I wasn’t even going there, so instead I swallowed my embarrassment and asked him, “What’s your horse’s name.”

He laughed again, obviously entertained by my squirming discomfort at the last topic of conversation. While his tanned face attempted to be serious, he patted the horse’s neck and said, “This is Rumor.”

“That’s a cool name,” I said, looking closer at the gelding beside me, glad for the distraction.

“You’re probably right. I don’t think Rumor could have beaten your horse,” he said complacently, as if the fact didn’t bother him in the least.

“Yeah, but I bet Rumor’s got a lot more sense than Lady here,” I pointed out as I ran my fingers through her long mane.

“Why do you say that?” he asked with curious eyes.

“Well, she’s usually pretty spooky about things. You know, freaking out at mailboxes, the wind, even birds.”

After running his eyes over her again, he commented, “She’s doing fine now.”

“Probably because she has a big, strong gelding like Rumor to protect her,” I joked with a little laugh.

Noah just nodded his head, a whisper of a smile playing on his lips.

The path narrowed. Really more suited for single-file riding, but we continued side by side, with our knees now rubbing, and with each touch a jolt of hot energy coursed through me. I wondered if he was feeling it, too. I glanced over at him and he was looking straight ahead, focused on some imaginary object in the distance.

We were moving between two fields of corn, and the stalks were beginning to press in on us, being as tall as the horses. I became aware that we were very much alone, sheltered and hidden from the rest of the world. And that realization sent my heart thumping unnaturally hard. Loud enough that I feared he’d be able to hear it. He was definitely close enough to hear it, at a proximity that I was sure his parents wouldn’t have approved of. Close enough to kiss even—with a little stretching. I dismissed that thought quickly and twisted in the saddle to stare at the corn plants, feeling the still, warm air that was emitting from them.

After a few minutes of silence, the only sound coming from the horses’ breathing and hooves touching the ground, out of the blue he asked, “Do you really like to dance?” His voice was different, raspier than before. That was random. Turning back to him, I saw conflict on his face.

“I love to dance. I do both ballet and jazz, but it’s going to be difficult now.”

“Why?” he probed.

“Well, for one thing, my dance company is in Cincinnati, and that means I’ll have a two-hour-long drive each way if I continue, which would be near impossible with my dad’s schedule at the hospital. And there aren’t any studios of the caliber that I’m at around here,” I said, spreading my arms wide at the stalks around us.

Just saying the words out loud dampened my mood—how I’d miss dancing.

“What do you wear when you dance?” he asked with a scary intensity, his eyes never leaving my face.

With that question, I was starting to get the gist of his troubled look, but I decided to answer honestly anyway. “I wear leotards, stretch shorts and tights to practice in and dance costumes for the performances.” I looked right at him, daring him to say something bad about it.

“Are you comfortable being in front of all those people with so few clothes on?” He asked it in a guarded way, as if he was trying to be as polite as possible.

With a soft laugh, I said, “Everything important is covered up, and yes, I’m very comfortable with it. I’ve always been a bit of an extrovert, and dance is a form of artistry, Noah. People aren’t looking at my body. They’re watching me dance.”

“Yeah, I bet they are,” he said sarcastically.

I squeezed my lips together tightly, trying to control the anger that was rising in me. With a small breath and an attempt to keep the sound of my voice level, I said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did you know that the Amish don’t dance?” When I lifted my eyebrows at his interruption, he continued, “The elders believe dancing is very sensual and that it gives young people ideas about…things.” He waited for my reply with his eyes slightly narrowed, obviously expecting an argument.

I was going to control myself, though. I’d already decided hours ago that I wasn’t going to be too judgmental about his way of life. It would be hard, though.

“Well, that’s too bad for you all. Dancing is wonderful. It’s a way to express myself and be athletic. And the music…” After a pause, I added, “The music really is the heart of it all. Is it true you don’t listen to any music?”

“We’re not supposed to, but sometimes we do.” He shrugged. “Usually when we ride in a car, we listen to what the English driver has on the radio.”

Our legs were still rubbing as we walked down the lane, and the bothersome fluttering in my stomach and beating of my heart were causing my brain to turn to mush under the physical bombardment. But still I managed to find the brain function to know that I didn’t comprehend the last part of what he’d said.

Confused, I asked, “What do you mean English?”

With a quick glance back at me, as if he was disclosing an embarrassing secret, he said in an even tone, “Just not Amish.”

“You mean that I’m considered English to you?” I asked, incredulous.

“Yep—it doesn’t matter where you’re from or what color your skin is. If you’re not Amish, you’re English.” He said it with a surety that I found slightly disturbing.

Looking squarely back at him, I sighed. “Now, let me get this straight. You don’t dance and you aren’t allowed to listen to music, but sometimes you do, and the entire population on the earth is English to you?”

“That’s a bit simplified,” he muttered with an edge to his voice I hadn’t heard yet. I watched him deal with his agitation by running his hand absently through his thick hair, leaving it wonderfully ruffled.

At the second I was admiring his hair, a couple of birds, quail, I think, flew up noisily in front of us with their feathered wings pumping hard to get airborne.

Lady, being true to her spooky nature, shied right into Rumor—hard. Noah reacted quickly, reaching out with his free hand and grasping my arm to steady me on my horse. Not that I really needed the help, but it was a chivalrous thing to do. I certainly didn’t mind the physical contact either.

For a few seconds we just stood there with his hand gripping my arm and Lady trembling beneath me, almost on top of Rumor. Glancing down at his fingers, I bit the corner of my mouth and looked up at his face, which wasn’t very far from mine. Both our legs were being mashed between the horses. I could only speak for myself, but I assumed he was feeling the same pain I was.

Still holding on to to me but with a looser grasp, thank goodness, he asked, “Are you all right, Rose?”

His voice was anxious, and I felt his warm breath touch me when he spoke. I was actually a little faint, and it certainly wasn’t because my stupid horse was afraid of a ten-ounce bird. My breathing quickened, and I waited for him to lean in and kiss me. This was the perfect time and place. Well, besides the fact that our legs were being crushed.

I waited—but nothing. He didn’t do it. Instead, when I couldn’t get my lips to answer him because they were too busy getting ready for a kiss, he released my arm and moved Rumor out a little in front of us with a nettled expression written on his face.

I must have been mistaken about his attraction for me. Feeling suddenly and completely disappointed, I inadvertently sighed too loud, squeezing Lady into a walk.

But before my emotions could play too much havoc with me, he stopped Rumor and waited for me to walk up alongside him. And again our legs were lightly brushing together—a truly wonderful feeling—and I was happy once more. Talk about mood swings.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He stared straight at me with smoldering eyes, and his voice was low and serious.

That question meant I still had a chance with him, I assumed. I admitted in an equally low and serious voice, “No.”

Watching him closely, I noticed he breathed a little easier, but he still had something on his mind.

Not looking at me this time, he asked tentatively, “Have you ever had…a boyfriend?”

So he wasn’t just worried about a current guy in my life; he was going to obsess about any previous boyfriends, too. That was interesting. Was he the jealous type? I spied at him from the corner of my eye and saw that he was a statue of stone, hardly breathing at all, waiting for my answer.

“No—I’ve never had a boyfriend. You know, too busy with my horse and the dancing…” I trailed off, fidgeting with the laces on my saddle, feeling suddenly awkward explaining to this gorgeous guy why I was sixteen and always single.

The curiosity got to me, though, and I took a little gulp of air and bravely asked, “What about you—do you have a girlfriend?”

Instantly, he relaxed in his saddle and turned to me with a brilliant smile. “No, up until now I hadn’t met the right girl yet.”

My eyes must have bugged out, because he laughed at my expression. Was he insinuating that I was the right girl? His confidence was beginning to irritate me. What made him think that I was automatically available?

Somehow I managed to recover my composure enough to again change the subject to safer territory. “So how did you manage to get away tonight to go riding?” I asked in the calmest, most disinterested voice I could summon from my mouth.

It was so infuriating how a part of me wanted Noah’s lips pressed against mine and the other part was scared to death of what he was doing to my poor body. I kind of had a clue as to which of the battling sides would ultimately win when I glanced back at him, suddenly thinking of Mom’s favorite Western movie. He was sitting straight in the saddle but still relaxed, just like Captain Call from Lonesome Dove. At ease, but ready for a gunfight. There was something very cool about him. Unfortunately, I think he knew it, with the little bit of arrogance he carried around with him. He was looking at me now with a lazy curiosity that was so mesmerizing I couldn’t turn away.

“I try to go for an evening ride occasionally when my work schedule permits. So it wasn’t shocking to Father that I went out tonight.” He removed the flirty look from his face when he said it, but his eyes still seemed to be twinkling.

“Do you normally come out here by yourself?” I had a bunch of good reasons to ask that question, but I hoped he wouldn’t pick up on the main one—that I had turned into a jealous vamp the moment I laid eyes on him. Now I was wondering how many Amish girls he met out here in the cozy cornfields for his joyrides.

The amused smile erupted again on his lips and he made sure to hold my gaze with a steady stare while he answered. “Usually I’m very much alone, but occasionally—” his smile widened to keep me in suspense “—one of my little brothers comes riding with me,” he finished, flashing me his teeth.

I wondered at that second if my face and voice were so transparent that he’d understood why I’d asked that particular question. He certainly seemed to have a clue. The thought that he could read me that well was unsettling. So, even though his answer was a good one and gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling, I still felt insecure in his presence, worried that he’d already figured out that I had a major crush on him.

We rode along quietly for a minute or two, until we finally reached the end of the cornfields. In front of us rose a thick wood that the lane meandered into, disappearing within the dark shade of the trees. It was a fairy wood, full of secrets, and just then, as the sun dipped down in the western sky, a beautiful pinkish-red sunset spread out on the horizon, causing a magical creamy light to settle over the corn.

The air was turning chilly. I shivered once, looking deeper into the trees.

Noah must have seen my uncontrollable shake, and with a resolute voice of authority, he said, “I better get you home. It’s getting late, and it’ll be dark soon.”

I nodded, totally disappointed to be leaving the magical forest behind. We reined the horses around, entering the cornfields once again. And even more disappointing was that he didn’t seem to have any plans to kiss me that night. At least he certainly wasn’t taking advantage of being out here in the middle of nowhere, without a soul to see us. Maybe he’s being gentlemanly, I considered. Or maybe I should take the lead. But then, I’d never kissed anyone, and I’d probably mess it up.

All my friends had been initiated into the world of kissing as preteens, but I’d been different. At the age most girls were learning the dating secrets, I had been more interested in kissing my horse’s velvety nose than swapping spit with a boy. I was also cursed with an overly protective brother, who had regularly threatened to beat up any of the guys who showed an interest in me.

Noah said he hadn’t met the right girl yet. Did that mean he hadn’t kissed before either? For guys that statement could mean any number of things. I found it hard to believe that an eighteen-year-old guy as handsome as Noah hadn’t done a lot of kissing already. Maybe he wasn’t making out with girls in the fields, but he could be sneaking off somewhere else for that sort of thing. The thought bothered me a lot more than I cared to admit, and I was starting to think my brain’s unhealthy obsession with my neighbor was bordering on a fatal attraction.

“So, what are you going to do tonight?” he asked in an upbeat manner, giving the impression of a person without a care in the world.

“Well, my dad is at the hospital and my brothers are seeing a movie, so I’ll probably continue unpacking and organizing stuff,” I said sullenly, still thinking about him and a bunch of imaginary girls.

“Won’t you be afraid in that big old house all by yourself?” he asked playfully.

“No.” I hesitated, wondering how much of my inner soul I should share with him. Feeling an odd comfortableness with him, I decided to be honest and said, “Mom dying was the scariest thing I’ve ever faced. Staying alone in a spooky old house really pales in comparison to that.” I shifted in the saddle to smile ruefully at him.

There was really nothing he could have said to make me feel better. He seemed to know that, and instead he reached out instinctively and took my hand softly in his. His touch caused a warm feeling to spread through my body, leaving me perfectly content and totally shocked at the unexpected gesture.

He smiled at me triumphantly, making my heart melt into a puddle, and his thumb swirling in place on my hand sent goose bumps up my arm. This was a monumental achievement in my life—my first real hand-holding experience. Not trusting the feel of his hand over mine, I had to look down and see it with my eyes to make sure that I wasn’t having a hallucination. Nope—I wasn’t dreaming. I was really holding hands with this Greek god look-alike who wore suspenders and didn’t drive a car.

Maybe now that we’d gotten to this stage of the relationship, I could begin to relax a little, I reasoned with myself. But then the tugging of worry harassed me. What am I doing? There was little chance that Noah and I could work through the obstacles in our way. The fact that I didn’t wear dresses and a bonnet and that he probably had never heard of my favorite bands before, and even if he had, he wasn’t allowed to listen to them, were just the first things that had popped into my mind. There were so many issues we’d have to deal with. How could a relationship possibly work?

We continued to ride holding hands, in silence, with only the sound of birds calling to each other in the air around us as they settled in for the night. I could tell that Noah’s mind was filled with as many thoughts as my own by the way he stared out into the corn with his lips pressed tightly together. But the warm press of his hand calmed the voices in my head and I relaxed, savoring the moment—until my cell phone rang.

My rock-song ringtone raised his eyebrows, and he was suddenly alert, glancing around in quick movements. I assumed that he was checking to see if anyone had sneaked up on us or if the loud noise had given us away.

I pushed Noah’s startled look from my mind and glanced at the phone. It was Sam and I answered with irritation, “What do you want, Sam? Yeah, I’m fine—I’ll see you later. Bye.”

He looked at me questioningly while I shoved the phone back into my pocket. “Just my big brother checking up on me,” I told him, wondering if he’d try to hold hands again.

“Sam is very intuitive to be calling you.”

“Should he be worried?” I teased.

“Most definitely,” he said brightly, holding his hand back out.

Without hesitation, I quickly gave him my hand.

“So, what are you doing tomorrow?” I asked lightly.

“If Jacob can find a driver, we’re going to a horse sale in Sugar Creek. He wants to trade his older Belgians for a younger team.”

“Really, that sounds like fun.” Plans were already forming in my mind.

“Yeah, but our driver has a wedding to go to, so unless Jacob can find someone to pull our trailer for us, we won’t be going.” He was looking down at my hand when he said it, pulling Lady and myself even closer to him and Rumor, so that my leg was wedged in behind his—making my body go crazy all over again.

But my mind was still working, and I suggested, “Maybe Sam could do it.” He looked up in surprise, and I continued hurriedly, “I mean, he has a big truck with a gooseneck hitch, and he’s hauled my horse to shows for me before. He’s actually better at pulling the trailer than my dad is. Jerry and Rita just hauled Lady here to save us a trip and to see the new place.”

His face scrunched up in concentration, and slowly a smile spread onto it. “Maybe my father will allow it—but I don’t know if he’ll let me go.” He looked up suddenly and squeezed my hand. “Will you go with your brother?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a horse sale, but why wouldn’t your dad let you come with us?” I said, somewhat disgruntled. The whole reason I came up with the idea was to be with him.

Sighing, he said, “Father will not allow me to go if you’re going. Boys and girls our age are not allowed to be around each other without an adult chaperone. But my uncle might be going along also, and then my father would consent,” he said, thinking.

Glancing back at me with concentration lining his face, he said, “We’ll pay him well for the service, but are you sure your brother will do it?”

“He has nothing else to do tomorrow, and if he can make a few bucks, I’m sure he’ll be up to it. I’ll ask him tonight. How will we get in contact—you don’t have a phone, right?”

He laughed at that, shaking my hand with enthusiasm. “Yes, we have a phone—it’s not in our house, though. It’s in the shed.”

“That’s not very convenient. How can you hear it when it rings?” I asked, thinking about all the calls they must miss.

“It has a very loud ringer, so we can usually hear it from the house.” He said it as if it was obvious.

Oh. I felt a bit stupid. But it was difficult to wrap my mind around the idea that some people chose to not have things like telephones conveniently located within their homes. Glancing again at Noah, I had to admit that other than the clothes and his extreme good looks, he seemed like any other guy at the moment. Maybe that’s what made me forget that he wasn’t ordinary at all.

Reluctantly, I let go of his hand and pulled the phone from my pocket, handing it to him. “Go ahead and put your number in, and I’ll call you tonight after I talk to Sam.”

He held the cell in his hand as if it was a hot grenade, staring down at it with extreme thought.

Shoot, I did it again. He wouldn’t know how to work my smartphone. “Oh, sorry, I forgot. This is a little complicated if you aren’t used to one. So, what’s your number?” I said, taking the phone back as casually as possible.

As he recited it, I entered the number and then put the phone away. Once my hand was free, he reached for it again.

“It’s nice holding your hand,” he said. Then in a fluid motion he brought my hand to his lips and lightly kissed my palm, causing a tingling that spread from my hand upward. Anticipation filled me. This is it—he’s going to kiss me now. I wanted him to so badly at the moment it was hurting my insides, and I looked up with hooded eyes, waiting—waiting to get another first out of the way.

He swayed closer to me, but then cussing “damn” under his breath, he lowered my hand and exhaled loudly.

Exasperated, he said, “You’re going to drive me crazy, Rose.”

I started to pull my hand away, but he held it firm, going on to explain, “Look, we’re almost to the road. Someone might see us—and that can’t happen.” He spoke harsher and looked grave as he continued, “If we want to spend time together, we have to be very careful about it, always looking out and thinking ahead. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

He sighed, saying, “And have your brother call tonight—not you. It’s not proper for Amish girls to call boys on the phone.”

“But I’m not Amish,” I pointed out.

“But I am, and if we’re going to be able to see each other, you’re going to have to start acting a little more like an Amish girl.” As an afterthought, he said, “Just pretend, Rose. Make it a game.”

He said it as if he was talking to a small child, ticking me off a little bit. I couldn’t keep the huff from escaping my lips in agitation.

Annoyingly, he just laughed and asked, “Want to race back to the road?”

The irritation that had rippled through my insides slipped away, to be replaced with a sudden jolt to my heart. “You bet,” I answered, giving Lady a bump with my heels and grabbing her mane as she took off.

I almost reached the road first, but every time I glanced back, it didn’t seem as though he was trying very hard. I was starting to think he was going to let me win, which wasn’t the way that I wanted to beat him at all. I began pulling on my reins at the same instant that Noah’s horse had a burst of speed. Doing a totally unsafe guy thing, he passed by me, swerving hard before he nearly hit the wire mesh that ran parallel to the tree line.

“Crap!” I muttered as I pulled alongside him, our horses bumping each other again. I was starting to get the feeling that Lady had as much of a thing for Rumor as I had for his rider.

“Gotcha!” He grinned, reaching out for my hand.

Only this time I ignored it, trotting ahead of him. When I arrived at the gap in the fence, he wasn’t with me. Instead, he was standing behind a copse of trees about a hundred feet back.

Darn, I didn’t mean to make him mad. I was just aggravated with his daredevil riding. Whirling Lady around, I squeezed her with my heels and quickly closed the distance back to him.

“What’s up?” I asked, pulling up close to Rumor.

“You have to go home first, Rose. That’s what I mean about being careful. We can’t just ride up the road together. Someone might see us, and that would be a disaster. Just please trust me on this,” he implored.

“But how long are you going to wait, then?” The fact that there would be dire consequences if we were caught together or if I even called him on the phone was triggering little bells to go off in my head, but I chose to ignore them. My girlfriends back in Cincinnati would be locked up in jail for sure under these rules.

“I’ll hang out here for about fifteen minutes and then head home. Now, Rose, you ride straight home, and if any cars slow down for you, just gallop that mare as fast as I know she’ll go until you reach your driveway. Hopefully, everything will work out and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The urgency in his voice finally got me moving, and I turned, cantering toward the gap. Once on the road, I trotted the rest of the way home, the darkness quickly descending around me. Goose bumps spread up my arms when the light vanished and I squeezed Lady back into a canter once I reached the driveway.

I couldn’t deny the way Noah made my body feel, that was for sure, but my mind was still struggling with the whole Amish thing. Where on earth could this relationship go?

But then, I didn’t care what the answer was. I just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

6

Noah

Walking the Amish Line

IT WAS GOING to be difficult to get away with it, I thought as I passed through the gap in the fence and rode onto the road. Rose was absolutely naive about what we were up against. And she certainly didn’t hide her emotions well either.

Whenever she looked at me with those lovely eyes, there was no doubt about her feelings. She wanted me as badly as I wanted her. And as much as I liked having those eyes directed at me in that way, she’d have to learn to control them or she’d get us in a whole heap of trouble. Secretly meeting up with an English girl was the type of thing that could get me sent off to a community in Pennsylvania. And I wouldn’t be able to come home until the bishop there felt I was truly rehabilitated.

Nathaniel Yoder barely missed making the trip out of state when his father caught him with a cell phone last year. Lucky for him, the worst punishment he received was being forced to smash the phone with a hammer.

Of course, I didn’t think Rose even worried about getting in trouble. It seemed she was allowed to do pretty much anything she wanted, and even if she did break a rule in her house, she’d probably be able to talk her way out of it with her father. She was very compelling. I certainly hadn’t planned to touch her hand, but when she talked about her mother and then looked at me with her sad eyes, I just couldn’t resist. And her hand had fit perfectly into mine. I really wanted to kiss her there in the cornfield, and had almost done just that, except somehow I’d been able to rein myself in before I got carried away.

It was just too soon for that. We weren’t even courting, and although I realized that the chance of doing so was slim at best, I still needed to try to make it happen. Somehow, in just a few short hours, I had developed feelings for Rose—strong feelings. And the thought of her being mine was intoxicating.

I’d never reacted to a girl this way before. My body was on fire when I was around Rose, and when I wasn’t with her, all I did was think about her. Today had been the longest day of my life, dragging on forever until it was finally time to go meet her in the field.

I was planning to sneak up on her, but when I saw her start to canter ahead of me, I was impressed by what a good rider she was, and impulsively kicked Rumor into a gallop to race her. If the field had been a little longer, she would have definitely whipped me. Rumor was carrying a lot more weight and beginning to labor. I was happy that we were even able to stay with the gray horse for as long as we did.

Not being able to keep the smile from stretching my mouth, I decided that the evening had been the most fun I’d had in a very long time—maybe ever. She was the perfect girl for me, I reckoned—except for not being Amish. But I didn’t care that she was English. My ideas about the people of the outside world had changed overnight—at least about one of them anyway. I knew that my feelings weren’t rational and that my behavior was dangerous, but I wasn’t willing to walk away at this point. I was driven now to see it through.

Cantering up the driveway, I quickly unsaddled Rumor and put him out in the pasture. I finished cleaning the stalls and then hurried to the house. The sky was coal-black by the time I entered the mudroom and pulled my boots off.

Seeing Jacob and Father sitting at the kitchen table under the dim light of the gas lamp with a pile of papers strewn out around them, I wasted no time asking, “Jacob, have you found a driver for tomorrow yet?”

Without raising his head, he replied, “No, I called several people, but they’re all busy.”

His voice held a hint of disappointment, and I seized the opportunity. “I found a driver for you.” Both Father and Jacob looked up at me speculatively and I continued, “While I was out riding, I met Sam on the road and he was in a dually truck with an extended cab.” I took a second to breathe. “I asked him if he would be interested in driving us to a horse sale tomorrow with our trailer, and he said he would—but he’d have to check with his father first.”

It was strange how easily the lie came to me. I was willing to do just about anything to see Rose again. Obviously the time spent with the beautiful girl was already corrupting me.

Studying their expressions, I saw Jacob’s face brighten at the news and Father purse his lips, thinking for a few seconds before answering. “That sounds like a possibility. This is the biggest sale of the season, and I’d hate to miss the chance to trade those two horses in for the quality of team you could find there, Jacob.” He paused, meeting my eyes directly before asking, “Will the girl be going?”

“I don’t know, Father.” I said it with no emotion, hoping my face showed none either.

Father thought for a minute or so longer, absently scratching his beard, before saying, “Well, I suppose it will be all right. After all, your uncle Reuben will be going with you boys. But…” He paused to look at me, unsmiling. “If the girl does go, I’ll not have you talking to her at all, Noah. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father, I do,” I said tonelessly, but inwardly my heart was beginning to race. I’d say anything you want me to say, Father.

The phone in the shed rang at that moment and I knew it was Sam. “That’s probably Sam. Do you want me to go talk to him?”

“Yes, you can make the arrangements. I think I’ll be turning in now—morning will be here before we know it.”

I put my hand on his shoulder as I passed by him and said, “Good night, Father.”

Stepping out into the cool night air, I knew that sleep would be a long time coming for me. I was so stirred up with the knowledge that I’d be spending the entire day with Rose that I’d probably be up all night.

* * *

When I saw Sam’s truck coming up the driveway, all feelings of sleepiness left me. I could make out that Rose was in the passenger seat, and my heart skipped a beat. I quickly turned away and continued currying old Buttercup’s tawny fur, being careful not to let my eyes stray back to the truck.

I finished Buttercup and moved over to Sally. Starting on her, I could hear Sam backing up to the trailer behind me. I was nervous that Rose would walk over and begin talking to me. She was so forward that it wouldn’t surprise me at all if she ignored my warnings.

Instead, when I spied over my shoulder with a glance, she was standing behind the truck, directing her brother to the hitch. Not something a girl would usually be doing, but at least she wasn’t talking to me, and that was a good thing at the moment.

Resuming Sally’s brushing, I registered that Rose’s long hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and she was wearing faded blue jeans and a blue T-shirt. She looked good in blue. It matched her eyes. I had thought the same thing the night before, but that shirt had been different than this one, prettier in a way. Then again, she was beautiful in anything.

Once the trailer was hitched up, Jacob and I loaded the horses and climbed into the backseat of the truck. Jacob explained to Sam that we were picking Uncle Reuben up on the way.

As Sam pulled carefully out of the driveway, I couldn’t help wondering what Rose was thinking at that moment. She had been silent, not even a nod in my direction. I was beginning to think either she was a very good actor or she didn’t like me anymore. How irrational to think that. She was doing exactly what I had told her to do, but now I was aggravated with how well she was doing it. It made no sense at all, but then, all my common sense went out the window when I was around her.

It was still early morning and the cloudy, overcast gray sky had not opened up to the sun yet. The air was warm, though, and I figured it would be a hot day later on.

Pockets of wispy fog covered the roadway, and Sam slowed down accordingly.

Rock music was blaring from the radio, and I wasn’t surprised when Jacob, speaking loudly to be heard over the noise, said, “You probably shouldn’t play the radio when my uncle gets in.” He said it in a friendly but uptight way.

“Sure thing, bro,” Sam replied amicably as Rose reached for the knob and turned the music off.

It took just a few minutes to reach Uncle Reuben’s house, where he was waiting by the roadway for us. When the truck stopped, Rose jumped out of the front seat, offering it to my uncle, who tipped his hat and thanked her. Then she did the unthinkable—pushing the front seat forward and climbing in the backseat, right next to me.

While I was worriedly trying not to let my long leg touch hers in the cramped space, Uncle Reuben turned and said, “Good morning, boys.”

I froze.

“Good morning, Uncle. It looks like we’ll have a nice day for the sale,” Jacob answered in his best adult voice, thankfully getting Uncle’s attention away from me.

Uncle Reuben then looked over at Sam and said, “I don’t think I’ve met you, young man.”

“I’m Sam Cameron, sir, and that’s my sister, Rose,” Sam said, not taking his eyes off the road.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam,” Uncle responded without acknowledging Rose. Usually I didn’t pay much mind to how the other men ignored the young, unmarried women of the community, but at the moment I felt the heat of embarrassment wash over me at my uncle’s rudeness. Wondering what Rose thought of it, I shifted just my eyes over to her. She sat perfectly still, looking out the window away from me, so I couldn’t tell what was going on in her pretty head.

It was uncomfortably tight in the backseat with very little legroom for two men over six foot. I continued to be careful not to lean my leg onto Rose’s, instead holding it awkwardly away from her.

As I tried to listen to Jacob and Uncle speak about crops and workhorses, the closeness of her body distracted me. I wanted to hold her hand and relax my leg onto hers. The scent coming from her was tantalizing my nostrils, a subtle, warm smell of lavender. I knew that smell well, for Mother had the plants growing in her garden.

I tried not to think about her scent, her body or her face, and just stared straight ahead for the hour-long journey through the countryside. It was damn near impossible, though, with her sitting just inches away.

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