Temptation (A Temptation Novel) (36 page)

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Authors: Karen Ann Hopkins

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“Thank you, Father.” And I glanced over at Mother, who seemed to be tolerating the conversation extremely well.

“But what about her family, Noah? Will they actually allow us to take her from them?” he asked with a raised brow.

Looking down at her beautiful dark head nestled against my shoulder, I felt confident saying, “It doesn’t matter what they think, Father. Rose will be my wife someday—and no one is going to stop that from happening.”

29

 

Rose

A New Beginning

 

IT SEEMED AS
if all I did anymore was wait. I lay draped across the mattress in my comfy cotton shorts and sleep shirt, with the warm afternoon sun spilling onto me from the window. The music coming from the clock radio was low, and I couldn’t help yawning sleepily.

The only plus to Noah being in the hospital was the telephone beside his bed. He had definitely worn the thing out the past couple of weeks. The hospital stay had grown from the expected weeklong event into a three-week ordeal, after the doctors realized that their Amish patient would not be able to rest and recover on the busy farm as easily as he could in the city.

I grinned to myself wondering if his parents had any idea that their son was spending his nights talking to me on the phone for hours until the sun started to rise in the sky each day. The phone calls were the only things that kept me sane over the past few days since Dad had ordered me home from the hospital. But that didn’t matter now, because today, Noah was coming home.

I could barely control my happiness, especially since the Millers had invited us over for dinner tonight. Not that dinner interested me that much. I hadn’t really had an appetite since the accident. It was that I’d get to see Noah again, and we were taking the first step toward being officially together. Noah had told me that tonight his parents were planning to discuss my whole conversion with Dad. That thought made me feel sick, causing my heart to pound unnaturally hard and the breath to catch in my throat.

Would Dad actually go for it? I highly doubted it, but as Noah said, in a little over a year I’d be old enough to do it without his approval anyway. I didn’t want to wait, though. All I wanted to do was get on with my life with Noah, and the prospect of waiting all that time would be difficult.

Yeah, I was definitely intimidated by the whole Amish thing—for sure. I’d be wearing a dress and covering my head with one of those uncomfortable caps for the rest of my life. But after almost losing Noah, feeling the earth-shattering pain of that experience, I knew what I had to do and where I belonged. It was completely bizarre how Mr. and Mrs. Miller were treating me now, as though I was already part of their family. The day I came home from the hospital, Mrs. Miller had insisted I stop by their house first so she could gently apply a soothing home-remedy ointment on all my cuts. She was acting very motherly. I felt as if I was a five-year-old again, being fixed up by soft, maternal hands.

She even took the opportunity to measure me for a new dress she said she’d make for me, telling me I could have one of Sarah’s extra caps. She also informed me that pretty much any simple black shoes would do. I secretly hoped that included the cool black Nikes I bought last spring.

All in all, our time alone together, while the other girls were out working in the garden, was pleasant enough. She wasn’t the scary woman I’d originally thought she was. But I had to admit that all her questions about my mother’s pregnancies were mildly disconcerting. She would definitely be the type of mother-in-law who would hound me about grandkids. I guess if that’s the worst I had to deal with, I could handle it.

Glancing at the clock, I could see it was almost five. Noah should be home any minute now, and he was under direct orders to call me right when he arrived. Stretching, and with one more big yawn, I rolled off the mattress and proceeded to pull on the same brown dress I’d worn to the church service that seemed so long ago now. I figured even though it wasn’t an Amish dress, at least it was a dress and I should start playing the part. I also pulled my heavy hair up into a bun, using several clips to hold it in place.

They didn’t work well. Almost instantly, wisps of hair were escaping, curving around my face. Maybe my hair would be too thick to stay in one of those little white caps? But then again, I groaned, figuring the other women probably had some supertorture pins that would hold anyone’s hair up.

Hearing a car’s engine, I drifted to the window and peeked out to see
Her
getting out of her car. I wasn’t too happy at first that Dad had invited his girlfriend to go with us to the Millers’, but then the idea occurred to me that maybe she’d be the perfect distraction for Dad when the Millers talked to him. She had been Dad’s constant companion lately, and I hardly ever saw him without her by his side. They were obviously smitten with each other, and I finally had to admit to myself that the woman was probably going to be a permanent fixture in our lives now.

Hiding behind the curtains, I spread them just enough with my fingers to observe her walking to the house. She wore tan dress pants and a pretty, white button-up blouse. The outfit would have been perfectly appropriate for any usual dinner date, but going to an Amish household, I looked at her with more scrutinizing eyes and decided her blouse showed too much cleavage and her pants clung to her legs, revealing their shapeliness.

The phone ringing made me lose interest in the woman, and I jumped on the bed, answering it in one fluid motion.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, sweetheart.” His voice sounded strong, with a hint of amusement.

“Are you home?” I squealed.

“Yep, I just pulled into the driveway. Mother wanted to settle me in on the couch immediately, but I insisted on calling you first,” he informed me.

“How are you feeling today?” I was still plagued with worry about his injuries. Now that he was home, I was sure he’d overdo it, wearing himself out.

“Pretty good. I didn’t take any of the pain meds last night—they make me so loopy. So today I’m feeling the soreness more, but at least my head is clear.”

“Are you using the crutches?”

“Yeah, walking on them bothers my ribs a bit. Still, I’m able to get around by myself, which is worth the pain.”

“I’m so sorry, Noah,” I told him quietly, still feeling tremendously guilty that all his pain was directly due to my irrational behavior leaving the dumb party.

“Don’t you start crying again, Rose, do you hear me?” he said forcefully.

“Yes, I’m fine. No more crying, I promise.” I hoped I could keep it.

“When are you and your family coming over?” he asked.

“Pretty soon, and guess what?”

“What?” He sounded worried all of a sudden, and I had to smile at that.

With extra drama I said, “
She’s
coming with us.”

“Who?” More confusion permeated the word.

“You know—Dad’s girlfriend,” I muttered fiercely, thinking some of the painkillers must still be affecting his mind.

“Oh, her. Well, perhaps she’ll keep your father’s attention off you becoming Amish,” he volunteered in an even tone, echoing my thoughts exactly.

“That would be a miracle, Noah. Really, I think he’ll flip out when he hears,” I said, nibbling on my pinkie nail.

There was a few seconds of silence before he said softly, “Don’t worry, Rose, I’ll be with you—and my parents are fully supporting us now. So you’re not alone in this.”

“I know.”

“Listen, my mother is striding toward the shed right now to take on her job as nursemaid. I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Okay. See you soon, Noah.”

“Rose?”

“Yes?”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he said soothingly, almost making me forget what we were up against.

“I love you, too.” I ended the call staring at my hideous wallpaper for a few minutes, totally wrapped up in an enormous amount of worry. Worry about how my dad would react to the news, worry about becoming Amish, worry that if the whole thing fell through I’d be heading off to a new school in a few days, and I definitely was in no shape for that kind of mental challenge. The queasy feeling spread through me, and I willed myself not to throw up as I smothered my head in the pillow.

The knock at the door, and Dad’s voice saying it was time to go, pulled me back together somewhat. I stood and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror before leaving the room.

And I had to admit, I looked about as sick as I felt.

* * *

 

Sitting around the Millers’ table was as awkward now as it was the last time. I already gave Dad’s girlfriend the heads-up on the drive over about the whole Amish tradition of the men getting their food first. She seemed curiously excited about the idea, as if it was a fun adventure for her.

So now I found myself sitting between Sarah and
Her
and directly across from Noah again. Although, this meal was extremely different than the last, in that Noah hardly took his eyes off me at all. I was surprised he didn’t miss his mouth with the fork the way his penetrating gaze never abandoned me. I was slightly bewildered. He didn’t seem to be worried about what his parents thought anymore.

Trying to be the good, future Amish girl, I worked hard not to stare much at him. But it was difficult. The glistening colors around his eyes had actually spread out farther on his face, creating an incredibly fascinating montage of blacks, blues, purples and, around the very edge, pinks. I found my eyes drawn to his unnatural skin tones in morbid curiosity. Besides my sick obsession with his bruises, when my eyes would meet his, the fluttering in my stomach would start up, along with my thumping heart. It was interesting that his face was hardly recognizable, but his hot gazes still gave me goose bumps.

Dinner flew by under Noah’s watchful eyes, and I was stunned to have
Her
working alongside me to clean up the dishes. Surprisingly, she seemed to know her way around a kitchen, and she and Mrs. Miller were in a constant state of chattering, obviously enjoying each other’s company. It was just weird, I thought as I stacked the last of the dishes, how two people so completely different could be getting on so well.

“Are you very nervous about what your father will say?” Sarah murmured softly near my ear.

She hadn’t said much to me throughout dinner, and up until then, I didn’t realize that she had any idea about what was going down after the meal.

Searching her eyes for support, and finding it, I replied in a hushed tone, “Totally freaked out, to be exact.”

She grinned big at my choice of words and rubbed my back reassuringly. I was beginning to discover that Noah wasn’t the only one in the Miller family with a touchy-feely personality. It seemed whenever Mrs. Miller got the chance, she was squeezing or patting me. As if perfectly orchestrated, Sarah left me and ushered Rachel and the younger children out the door, saying it would be a nice evening for some fishing in the pond at the back of the farm. Justin rushed to join them, but Sam stayed rooted to his chair at the table. Jacob then excused himself abruptly to drive Katie home, leaving just the pertinent parties in the room, plus nosy Sam.

I glanced over at Dad, who seemed to be expecting something when he sat down close beside his girlfriend with a resigned look on his face. Mr. and Mrs. Miller took the seats across from them, beside Noah, and I, after sizing up the family dynamics in front of me, took the seat next to
Her
. I caught Sam from the corner of my eye roll his eyes as he leaned back in his chair with an obnoxious look on his face. He was ready for the show. Deciding that I wasn’t going to let Sam bother me, I stared ahead, at Noah, for emotional support.

He smiled confidently back at me, not really improving my anxiety. Actually, the rolling in my stomach had returned, and I swallowed down the hot juices, praying silently that I wouldn’t be sick in front of everyone.

The tension in the room multiplied during the silence, and I couldn’t help bringing my finger to the corner of my lips to absently chew on the already short nail. A muffled cough came from Dad. I glanced at him and saw it written on his face that he wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. His girlfriend was feeding off the tension now, fidgeting with her hands on the table, in stark contrast to Mrs. Miller, who, as expected, sat calmly, not even a twitch.

Finally, Mr. Miller spoke with a deep and sure voice. “David, it seems we have reached a time when we need to discuss our children’s relationship.”

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