A Rose Revealed (32 page)

Lord, I love him. I know he doesn’t love me, but I love him. I do. I’m glad he’ll have this beautiful house, but, oh, Lord, help me deal with the fact that I won’t live in it with him
.

Since the family was still at the wedding celebration, I went home to an empty house. I raided the refrigerator and carried my food up to my rooms. I ate watching the evening news and
Jeopardy
. The hours until bedtime stretched endlessly before me. I pulled out the newspapers I’d gotten and studied them for possible rentals.

It’s hard to find a place in a town with no apartment complexes, and I wanted to stay here because of the proximity to the ambulance. I wanted to stay with Harry and Alice and all the others. It looked like they were going to continue to be the closest thing I had to family. Except for Mom, of course.

I ran my hands through my hair. There had to be someplace I could live. I wasn’t fussy. Look where I’d lived before the farm. I could live in a place like that again. Couldn’t I?

I was feeling almost desperate when I heard Jake drive in. I resisted the urge to look out my window and watch him from afar, but I listened closely until I heard the door downstairs open and close. He was home.

I wanted to talk to him so much I could taste the words, to ask him about the house and his secretiveness. I wanted to know what had led him to visit Pastor Adam every morning, to know why he hadn’t told me he’d become a believer.

I wanted to punch him out and hug him hard.

First my fingers tapped restlessly on my thighs. Then my foot started bouncing up and down. Soon both feet were twitching, and I could hardly stay in my chair. When I began pacing, my strides were long, fueled by anger and anxiety. I marched to the top of the steps and stared down into the darkened house. I marched back into my living room and told myself to stay there. I was going to make a fool of myself.

“So what else is new?”

I jumped at the sound of my out loud voice. Finally I just shrugged, stalked downstairs, and knocked on Jake’s inside door.

“Come in.”

I opened the door and walked to the living room. He was sitting on his leather sofa, the one that was so deep my feet didn’t touch the ground. His back was resting against the arm, a pillow behind him, his legs stretched out along the cushions.

“Hello, Jake.” I stood uncertainly in the doorway. Now that I was here, my insecurity overtook my distress.

He looked at me without speaking for a minute. “Hello, Rose.”

I felt foolish. I shouldn’t have come down. I should just leave. He didn’t want me here. I walked over and sat in the rocker by the sofa. That way he wouldn’t have to look up to talk to me.

I wanted to kick myself for that move. I was being nice even in extremity.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m looking for an apartment.” I made my voice as cool as I could as I looked at a spot on the wall beyond his head. “The rooms will be vacant soon.”

He said nothing, just continued to look at me.

I rubbed my sweating hands over my jeans and raised my chin to show I wasn’t affected by him. “I thought you ought to know.”

He nodded. “Thank you. That was kind of you.”

So formal. You’d have thought we were practicing to make Miss Manners proud. How did this happen to us? How did we go from understanding each other’s minds to not even speaking naturally?

“I understand you’ll be moving soon too.” Now I looked at my lap as I spoke, trying to hide my hurt.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. Nerves? I hoped so. Why should I be the only one uncomfortable here? “Elam and Esther will live in the addition.” He swept an arm to indicate the rooms. “We’ll make it one apartment again instead of two like it is now.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” So he’d been planning on asking me to leave. At least I’d saved face by beating him to the punch.

“Um. The plans have been in the works for a long time, really since soon after my accident. It’s Father’s idea. He says Elam will get the farm, but I’ll get this special house.” He looked at me, one side of his mouth quirked. “But don’t worry. I won’t stay dependent. I plan to pay him back as soon as I’m finished with school, as soon as I’m working.”

I managed a small smile in return. “Will he let you?”

Jake shrugged. “Who knows? But that’s not the issue, is it?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not.”

We were silent a minute. Then Jake said, “The wedding suddenly made it urgent to carry out the building project immediately.”

“When will your house be ready?”

“In a month or so. They have extra men working on the project now that these rooms are needed.”

“I suppose someone would have gotten around to telling me before I found myself on the street?”

He looked at me, startled by the sudden tartness of my voice. “Of course.”

I stood up and stared down at him. “When, Jake?” I was furious at him. “The day before I had to go? Or would you have kept on avoiding me up until Elam and Esther started moving their furniture in?”

“Now, Rose.” He held up a placating hand.

“Don’t now Rose me! Even Ben was more considerate than you! He screamed and shouted, but at least he talked!” I pointed a finger at him. “You, on the other hand, are an inconsiderate ingrate! Why, you’ve even come to Christ and you never told me! How could you! You know what that means to me!” By now I was pacing in my agitation.

Jake looked at me with a wry smile. “I bet you’re the only Christian to become mad at someone because he’s become a believer, too.”

I looked at him, appalled that he would joke while I was dying. “Don’t you dare mock me!”

He blinked, startled. “Rose, I’d never mock you. Never in a million years.”

“How would I know that?” My voice was shaking again. “You’ve made a mockery of what I thought was a special friendship. Why not mock me too? Good old Rose the Evangelist. Who cares about her?”

He closed his eyes and lowered his head as if in pain. “Rose, don’t do this to me.” He spoke in a whisper.

“Don’t do what to you?” I yelled. “Who’s doing what to you? I’m the one.” I punched him in the arm. “I’m the one!” I punched him again. “I’m dying here, and you say don’t do it to you?” I raised my fist again though I was having trouble seeing my target through my tears. I struck out feebly.

He grabbed my fist and pulled. Suddenly I was trapped against his chest by the steel bands of his arms.

“Stop it, Rose.” His voice was soft and full of that enveloping warmth.

“Stop what?” I raised hot eyes to his face. “Stop beating on you? Stop yelling at you? Or stop loving you?”

Jake groaned from deep in his soul. “Oh, God, I can’t do it.”

“Are you praying or blaspheming?” I demanded. “If you’re swearing, I’m telling Pastor Adam.”

I felt a laugh rumble deep in his chest. I glared at him. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Jake Zook. Don’t you dare!” Unfortunately, the last came out in a wobbly whisper.

“Oh, Rosie,” Jake said in a soft voice. He reached out and took my glasses from my nose. He dropped them on the floor.

“Jake?”

His kiss was that of a man who had been without water for too long and I was the refreshing spring. I melted against him and let him drink.

When we broke free, I lay my head on his chest in utter despair. Now I’d have to go through all that agony of separation all over again. I felt his hand beneath my chin lifting my face toward his.

“Don’t, Jake,” I pleaded. “I can’t stand the pain.”

“Kissing me’s that bad?”

I pushed myself away from him, dropping to my knees beside the sofa. “You know what I mean.”

He looked at me with an intensity that took my breath. “When I saw Peter Hostetter chasing you with that pipe raised, my heart stopped beating,” he said. “I knew I’d put myself in your place if I could. I knew I’d die if you did.”

This time it was my heart that stopped beating.

He put his hand over mine and held tightly. “All I kept thinking was, ‘God, save her! God, save her!’ And then I thought, why should He? I’d been pushing Him away for years, and suddenly I’m screaming for Him, and He should come? I was shoving my gun out the window when it struck me that you can’t pick the parts of God you like and discard the others. I couldn’t reject His free forgiveness and accept His help in need. God is a whole.”

My spirit leaped to hear him talk in this manner. “I’ve always thought God is like a string of pearls,” I said.

He looked at me, eyebrow raised.

“Now think about it before you scoff,” I said. “God is a whole, like you said, like the string of pearls. We try to break Him down so we can understand Him. It’s like each pearl is an attribute of God. One is His love, one is His grace, one is His holiness, one is His forgiveness. While there’s value in the individual pearl, the individual attribute, it’s the whole string that’s invaluable. It’s the entirety of God that is the wonder.”

Jake nodded. “Yes, the entirety. As I was thinking about this new idea, at least new to me, I looked at Peter Hostetter, by now lying on the ground. Here was a man who wanted not the people of his family, but the family wealth. He wanted to pick and choose when he had no right to make the choice. Suddenly I saw myself in him.”

I made an automatic move of disclaimer.

He held up a hand. “I wanted to pick and choose where I had no right to do so either. I wanted to take the parts of God I liked, and then only when I needed them. That’s when I knew I had to talk to Pastor Adam.”

He became quiet, and I prompted him. “So you called him?”

He nodded. “By the time I went to see him, I’d already told God that I accepted His free forgiveness in Christ.” He looked at me. “It was amazing the peace that came with my decision.”

I grinned at him, joy bubbling from my heart. “Oh, Jake!” I gave him a quick, fierce hug. “You have no idea what it means to me that you’re a believer.” I looked up at the ceiling. “Thank You, God,” I breathed. “Thank You!”

“I should have told you sooner, back when it happened,” Jake said. “I’m sorry.”

“How could you tell me? You weren’t speaking to me.” I took a deep breath and looked at him, the turmoil of my emotions certainly flashing across my face. “Which brings us to our next point of discussion. Why, Jake? Why weren’t you speaking to me?”

He didn’t answer. He just reached out and brushed at a strand of my hair, then rested his hand briefly on my cheek. “I never knew that one person could cause such unbelievable pleasure and pain.”

When he went to move his hand, I grabbed and held it in place. The feel of his palm on my skin made me weepy.

“What do you mean, pleasure and pain?” I asked, though I knew. I knew all too well.

He smiled and rubbed his thumb back and forth across my jaw. “The pleasure’s easy. I’ve never enjoyed being with anyone as I enjoy being with you. You are my light and my joy.” His eyes were dark and luminous, and I saw in them a yearning that I knew was reflected in mine.

“And the pain?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he said, “What am I to do with you, Rosie?”

I didn’t hesitate for a second. “Marry me, Jake.” I leaned forward and stared into his eyes. “Marry me.”

I felt him jerk as though shot and begin to pull his hand away.

“Rosie, please,” he whispered, looking at me with anguish.

I wrapped both my hands about his and held it to my heart. “Jake, I love you.”

He made a sound deep in his throat, a wounded groan, but he said nothing.

“And you love me,” I informed him, staring at him, willing him to agree. He just looked at me. “I know you do. I know it! I can see it in the way you look at me, the way you talk to me, the way you touch me, and even,” I said with sudden insight, “in the way you’ve avoided me.” I lay my head on his chest and whispered, “Jake, you love me.”

Again he groaned, and his other hand threaded itself through my hair, pressing me against him.

“Marry me, Jake,” I whispered to his heart. “Please. I shall die if you won’t.”

When he said nothing, I raised up and looked at him. Tears sat in his eyes.

“Rosie,” he whispered. “Look at me!” He stared at his inert legs.

“So?” I said, and he closed his eyes against my foolishness. “Jake, you’re not legs and bladder and spinal cord. You’re heart and mind and spirit. You’re creativity and curiosity and German stubbornness. And I love you, Jake, with all my heart. I always will, no matter what you think is best for me, for us, no matter how noble you want to be. I don’t want to be just your friend, just your sister in Christ. I want to be your wife, to love you wholly, to struggle with you and rejoice with you and be loved by you.”

I looked at his closed eyes, the tear running down his cheek. I leaned over and kissed the tear away. He jumped as though burned.

“I’m not going away,” I said. “I’m not.”

He opened his eyes and looked at me. “Tiger, you’re killing me here.”

I shut my eyes briefly as protection against the pain and emotion I saw there, and then forced them open to look at him. “I know.”

Suddenly he moved, lifting himself to rest against the back of the sofa, opening up an area of the cushion. He patted it. “Sit here. Get off your knees.”

I got up and sat beside him, hip to hip. I was momentarily distracted by the feel of him pressed against me; he couldn’t feel me.

“What’s wrong with my being on my knees?” I asked. “I don’t mind begging, you know.”

“Woman, you appall me,” he said, looking genuinely aggrieved. “Where’s your self-respect?”

I slipped to my knees again, my hands folded in supplication. “I have none where you’re concerned.”

He winced, closed his eyes, and turned away. I reached out and smoothed the frown lines between his eyes, lines he refused to let be soothed. I rested my head on his chest again and was moved to the point of tears when his hand came once again to lace itself in my hair.

Father, give me courage! And give him grace!

I took my seat on the sofa again and said, my tone tart, “Besides, you have more than enough pride for both of us.”

He looked surprised and then grinned crookedly and didn’t deny the charge.

“Jake, look at me.”