Temptation (A Temptation Novel) (15 page)

“You have an admirer, Rose,” Sam said in a slightly testy way.

I narrowed my eyes and demanded, “Who?”

Justin came to full attention and was waiting expectantly beside me when Sam finally responded with tight lips, “Noah asked for my permission to call you sometime. It was so old-fashioned, just like that dude in the
Little Women
movie…and he became quite distressed when he heard that you’d be in Cincinnati for a
whole
week.” He stressed the word
whole
way more than necessary.

It took a long second for the information to sink in. Holding my breath, I begged, “What did you tell him?”

He looked at me sheepishly and said, “I gave him your cell number. You’ll have to be gentle letting the guy down, but I think it’s better to do it sooner than later.” Then with a more serious look he asked, “You okay with that?”

My head was spinning. Noah might actually call me on the phone like a normal guy? I could hardly contain the bubbles from multiplying in my belly. I gave Sam my most brilliant smile before saying, “It’s perfectly okay with me.”

Sam must have understood the excitement that I was sure was shining on my face when he said, his words thick with agitation, “You’ve got be kidding me, Rose. I mean, I like the guy all right, but he’s Amish, for God’s sake! How would that ever work out?”

Weakly, I suggested, “Maybe he’ll change someday.”

“Oh, brother—don’t hold your breath on that one. He’s really close to his family, and if he did
change
he’d risk his relationship with all his relatives and friends. I really doubt he’ll be willing to do that just for a pretty girl,” Sam said, his voice leaning toward sympathy, but the words still stung me. It was as if there were little needles pricking at my heart.

I hardly knew Noah, and yet he had become such an important part of my life. And astonishingly, it seemed he felt the same way about me. Sam could be all doom and gloom if he wanted—it didn’t matter to me. Noah liked me for real, and that’s all my mind was filled with as I walked beside Justin with a springy step and a fluttering heart toward our new home.

8

Noah

Easy Choice

THIS WAS THE
third trip I’d made down the ladder and back up again for something I’d forgotten. This time it was the box of roofing nails, last time it was my hammer and before that, my work belt. What was wrong with my brain today?

I had a pretty good sense what was going on—my lovely neighbor was driving me nuts. Rose was a constant visitor in my mind, distracting me to the point of obsession. It was unhealthy, and I wondered if Jacob had it this bad over Katie. He certainly didn’t seem to—at least I hadn’t noticed him making extra trips up the ladder since he started courting her.

But maybe that was the problem with me. I wasn’t really courting Rose. I sure wanted to be, though. All day I’d been thinking about how to make it happen, with no sudden ideas or schemes appearing in my worn-out mind. And then, other thoughts had been trickling into my head as well, like: How did she feel from the volleyball hit? What did she think about the youth service? Did she like the Amish girls? What was she doing right then…and with whom?

That last question got to me the most. If Rose were Amish, it wouldn’t be a question at all. She’d be strictly disciplined in what she could do and diligently watched over by the entire community. But instead, she was off dancing in some big city and probably staying out late with her friends. That image caused my breath to come harder and my blood to simmer. I felt so possessive of her, and no matter how my brain tried to rationalize that I shouldn’t feel such emotions for an English girl I hardly knew, I couldn’t rein them in.

I sighed heavily, gazing out over the gently rolling hay fields in the direction of my farm, just a half mile away. Katie’s family was throwing a twentieth-birthday party for Jacob that evening, and most of the community had been invited. Father and Jacob had already left the work site for home a while back, leaving me alone with my worries. I was in no hurry to go to the big event and had offered to stay behind to finish up the corner of the roof. An easy choice; I liked working without my family’s prying eyes, especially with all the mistakes I’d been making.

Nailing the last shingle on, I gathered my tools and climbed down the ladder. Hopefully, for the last time today.

Mr. Denton drove me home in relative silence, except for the softly playing Johnny Cash song. He was a nice old guy, always telling me the names of the singers or bands playing, as if the information would benefit me in some way I hadn’t figured out yet.

Reaching the house, I jumped out, waved goodbye and made my way to the back door. I walked slowly, with no energy to my steps. The knowledge that today was only Monday and I wouldn’t see Rose until the weekend, and then only if I was lucky, irked me. And having to go to the Weavers’ and pretend to not have a care in the world would be near impossible. But I’d have to put on a show or suspicions would be roused. I certainly didn’t need that.

After kicking off my work boots in the mudroom just as unenthusiastically as I’d walked across the yard, I entered the kitchen to the frightening scene of Mother and Father both sitting at the table, dressed to go to the party but obviously not in a hurry to get there.

Before they said a thing, unease swept through my body and I strained to listen for other voices in the house—
nothing.
Now I was even more disturbed. The house being utterly silent was the worst sign of all.

“So how was your workday, son?” Father spoke in Dutch, asking in a friendly manner, keeping the real reason they were sitting alone at the table, waiting for me, hidden at the moment.

“It went well, Father…but why aren’t you at the Weavers’?” I inquired of him, while my eyes searched Mother’s face for hostility. Not seeing any, I breathed a little easier, continuing to stand before them, shifting between my feet.

“There is a matter that Mother and I want to discuss with you before we leave for the party. Please have a seat,” Father said, pushing the chair closest to him out for me with the toe of his boot.

I stared at the chair, a dozen thoughts flashing through my mind. If Father had any inkling at all about Rose, he wouldn’t be so calm. But then again, emptying the house for a secret meeting definitely meant something was up. Trying to slow my heart, I crossed the room and sat beside him, waiting with resolve for whatever was to come.

“Noah, have you taken notice of the way Ella Weaver looks at you?” Father asked quietly with a tilt to his head, smoothing his beard beneath his fingers as he talked.

That was not what I was expecting. I thought for sure someone had spied my reaction when Rose was hit by the ball the night before, and told my parents. Now I was torn between relief that they didn’t suspect my relationship with Rose and sudden dread at the direction the conversation was moving.

Mother informed me with hardly controlled enthusiasm, “Bessie Weaver approached me last night, Noah, and she informed me that Ella would be interested in a courtship with you.”

When I didn’t immediately answer, she arched her brows and piped, “Aren’t you happy? She’s one of the loveliest girls in the community.”

So this was it—the beginning of the end. I was in trouble no matter what I said. If I told my parents I wasn’t interested in Ella, they’d wonder why, and if I couldn’t give them a good reason, they’d continue to harass me about her until I gave in or picked another girl. If I dared to tell them I’d fallen for an English girl, they’d each have a heart attack and send me away. But at that moment they were staring at me with intense eyes. I had to say something. “Wow…I didn’t know Ella liked me. I mean, I guess I’ve been too busy lately to notice.”

Impatiently, Mother asked, “But what do you think about the news, Noah? Will you ask to court Ella Weaver?”

Both Mother and Father waited, not breathing, for my answer. I needed to stall for time—time to think and plan. “I don’t believe Ella and I would be a good match, Mother. We don’t have anything in common.” Seeing her face drop in disappointment, I quickly added, “Seriously, I’ve been observing a few of the girls lately and I haven’t made up my mind yet—so if you can just let me take my time, I’m sure I’ll be able to make a decision soon,” I said as convincingly as I could manage.

“You seem restless of late, son, and I know that once you’ve settled on a girl, you’ll feel peace in your life. It’s a very important decision for you to make, and your mother and I want you to be happy. We believe that married life will suit you well.” Then winking, he said with a grin, “There are many advantages to having your own wife to welcome you home after a long workday.”

Yes, Father, I’ve already been envisioning what it would be like, but with Rose Cameron, not Ella Weaver, or any other girl. I wanted to shout it out, but I didn’t. Instead, I drew in a long breath and said, “It will happen in time. Just give me a little space to make a decision.”

“Noah, it’s not that we’re trying to rush you, but you’re eighteen now and there are many boys your age this year. We’re concerned that you’ll miss an opportunity with one of the better girls in the community if you wait too long.” As Mother said it, she reached across the table and placed her hand on mine, smiling worriedly.

At that moment, I wished I could tell her the truth about my feelings for Rose, and I almost blurted it out, being drawn into her kind expression. But luckily I caught myself before I made
that
mistake.

“Mother, I’ll pick a girl eventually. I promise.”

“You need to pray to God about it, Noah. Ask his guidance on your choice. He is always with you,” Mother said softly.

“
Uffgevva,
my son. You must give yourself up to God’s will in this matter,” Father directed. And then, his voice growing harder, he said thoughtfully, “You must not let the devil mislead your heart. Conflict and indecision are brought from his evilness. Listen to God’s word in Romans 12:2—‘Be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.’”

I lowered my eyes to the table, focusing on the grains, swirls and imperfections of the well-used wood. I sat at this table several times every day and I never bothered to see them before. Yet they were there, plain to any eyes that took the time to look at the wood and
see
. Could Mother and Father not see Rose—really see what a perfect match she was for me? How could the feelings I had for her be evil? I wouldn’t accept that God felt that way. He wouldn’t have opened my heart up to her if I weren’t meant to be with her. Somehow I had to convince Mother and Father that it was God’s will that I spend my life with Rose—
an English girl.

Finally, raising my head, I met my parents’ eyes bravely and told them in a firm voice, “I do believe in God’s providence and I am willing to open myself up to it.”

That seemed to please Mother and Father, and they visibly relaxed, breathing easier.

With an encouraging smile, Father said, “We have a party to attend. Shall we go?”

I took that as my cue to exit the kitchen and head upstairs, where I quickly and unceremoniously took a shower, brushed my unruly hair and dressed in finer clothes for the occasion. My head was still swirling with the conversation when I harnessed Rumor and hitched up the buggy. I wondered how much time they’d actually give me—and then there was the whole uncomfortable business with Ella. She would have been aware of our mothers’ discussion, and she would inevitably expect a courtship invitation from me any day now. She had always thought quite highly of herself, and ever since we were kids she’d made it clear that she was interested. Oh, she was subtle about it, all right; always nearby, lurking like a tunnel-web spider, ready to strike with the shy fluttering of her lashes and the flirty half smiles.

I couldn’t help the snort of laughter that erupted from my lips at the thought of prissy Ella with eight dangling legs. But quickly, my mood blackened. The thought of spending my life with Ella created a cold tightening in my stomach. She was pretty enough, but she didn’t have the warm and inviting nature that Rose had. I feared that even if Rose wouldn’t have me, I’d never feel the same attraction for another girl the way I had for her.

When I finally pulled into the driveway, it was late enough that most of the guests were already in the gathering building, with just a few of the smaller children playing in the expansive yard. The Weavers’ place was pristine. The flower beds along the driveway overflowed with the bright purples, pinks and whites of perfectly tended flowers.

Glancing around, I realized, as if for the first time, that the Weaver farm was one of the more impressive homesteads in the community. The ten children worked diligently to keep it in pristine condition, and with Mark Weaver being one of the three ministers in the church, he had to set an example to the other members, which he did in an exemplary way.

It was the same in our household, since Father was also a minister. My parents fretted as much as the Weavers about appearances. That was what made the situation with Ella Weaver even more delicate. The Weavers would be offended if I wouldn’t have their daughter, and if I chose an English girl over Ella, it would cause serious problems between the families, becoming a church matter.

Rubbing my face from the stress of it all, I entered the dining hall and made my way to the buffet table, only lightly filling my plate. I didn’t have much of an appetite, and the food I did place on my plate was more for show than anything else. I was oblivious if any eyes followed me as I walked to the table, sliding in between Matthew and Timmy.

“Hey, buddy, why are you so late?” Matthew asked with his mouth full of chicken casserole.

Taking a fork in hand, I pushed the food around on my plate, not really wanting to be social but answering anyway, “Oh, Mother and Father harassed me for a while, that’s all.”

“I bet I know what they were bugging you about,” Matthew stated simply, continuing to shovel food into his mouth.

I’m sure he did know, too, I thought distractedly. Ella was, after all, his sister, and although he wasn’t close to her, he would have heard things being discussed in the house about a possible match.

Matthew went on somberly, “If I were you, I’d run screaming, Noah.”

The mental picture brought an unwanted smile to my lips.