Temptation. Karen Hopkins Ann

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      “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 СКАЧАТЬ