Chasing Paradise (A Paradise Novel Book 1)

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Chasing Paradise (A Paradise Novel Book 1) Page 9

by Cindy Patterson


  Seventeen

  Rachel's anticipation rose with each horse-drawn wagon that passed. A cool breeze made a whistling sound as it danced through the trees. Had Paul found out about her attending the singing on Sunday? He hadn't mentioned it on Saturday. Maybe he hadn’t heard yet, and she could tell him first.

  She sorted through her clean clothes, folding and placing them in the appropriate drawer, trying to keep her attention on something other than the sound of passing buggies. Time passed quickly, yet slowly. She thought about Saturday. Had imagined riding next to him in his buggy and hated herself all day for turning down his offer. His concern burned in her memory, and she’d memorized their entire conversation standing outside the market. It didn't make sense. She remembered every word, could still feel his arms around her. But she also remembered the words that had hurt her. Badly.

  Rachel left for work disappointed when he never arrived and reached the restaurant five minutes before her shift. She left her bag in the break room and tied an apron around her waist. She searched the guests, the same way she did every day, making sure Jason wasn't among them. Her body lost its stiff posture when he never showed up at his usual time.

  Then she turned, coming face to face with two Amish girls wearing dark gray dresses.

  “Anna, let’s sit over here.”

  It was her. The Anna? The one Kelli thought would be marrying Paul any day now. Anna wasn’t the blue-eyed, blond-haired girl from last week, but she was pretty, and yes, Rachel recognized her from the Sunday night singing.

  Soft freckles sprayed across Anna’s cheeks and nose. Her auburn hair hid beneath the kapp, but wispy curls tumbled out in disarray. Anna’s dark green eyes searched her with a contempt she didn't understand, the same dark look she'd given her at the singing. As the girl passed and chose a booth, Rachel glanced away and sighed. They didn’t sit in her section.

  Anna planted her elbows on the table. “Paul ... yes ... he ... I know ... asked me.”

  Anna's laugh echoed through the restaurant, grating on Rachel's nerves. What was she saying? Why couldn't her words level out at the same pitch?

  Rachel tried to ignore the feelings, but her eyes kept stumbling in Anna’s direction.

  She tried concentrating on the woman sitting at the table in front her.

  “I wanted iced water, not tea.”

  Rachel's eyes widened. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back.”

  Thirty minutes later, the two Amish girls left. Rachel stepped outside for her break, the fresh air a welcomed change from the stuffy restaurant.

  ~

  Paul had thought about asking Troy to join him for lunch at the Good and Plenty, but decided not to. Rachel might be working. He hadn’t been to the restaurant since she came to town that first day. He missed his favorite side dish, hash brown casserole.

  He opened the blinds, bringing light into the dark room. Putting some space between him and Rachel could be all he needed.

  There was only one problem. He didn't want distance between them.

  He was sketching the plans for a new project when Thomas stopped by.

  “Wiegeht's. Why are you working in here? I thought you hated office work.”

  “It has to be done.” Paul nodded. “What're you up to?”

  “Mamm sent me into town with a list.” He removed a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “We missed you at the singing.”

  “I wasn’t in the mood.”

  “There was a new girl. What was her name? Belinda called her Rachel.”

  “Rachel?” Coming out of his seat, he banged his knee against the desk. He stepped toward the filing cabinet, unnecessarily, and fussed with the drawer. “So? New girls come around all the time.” Not Rachel Adams, eefeldich. “Was it the Yoder girl?”

  “Not an Amish girl, an Englischer. The other girls liked her. Wavy dark hair and a natural tan, with big brown eyes. A beautiful girl with the voice of an angel.”

  His mouth flew open, his breath stolen. Rachel was at the singing.

  “You act like you know her.”

  Paul steadied his gaze on the file in front of him. “I work for her mamm.”

  “Oh.”

  Rachel was there. Why would she go? She was singing? The tone of her voice came back to him clear as the cloudless sky. He brought a shaky hand to his forehead. He couldn’t talk about this … about her.

  “Anna asked where you were. She hoped you'd take her home after the singing.”

  Paul's fingers felt numb as he thumbed through the folders. “Jah, well. I’ll never make that mistake again.”

  “Was in der welt?” A hint of anger pervaded his tone.

  Paul almost snapped, thinking of the way Anna gossiped, but softened his attitude. Thomas knew nothing of it, and he didn't plan to spread more rumors. “I just don’t like her that way.”

  “It wonders me. Who do you like that way?” Thomas teased.

  He slammed the cabinet before turning to face Thomas. “No one. I don’t care for anyone.

  Thomas crossed his arms. “Well, you aren’t getting any younger. You'll be the only one left not married.”

  “I can’t get married until I meet the right girl,” he said without thinking, and Thomas caught the slip.

  “That doesn’t make any sense. You’ve already met them all. There are no more girls to be choosing from. Unless a new girl moves into the community.”

  A new girl had moved into the community. “Ach, Thomas.” He cleared his throat. “I’m just not ready yet. Will you leave it be?”

  “Okay, don’t be so touchy. I’m just saying, Anna would take some handiwork, but she’s already smitten with you.”

  “Well, thanks for the advice, but I can handle my own love life.” That was the furthest thing from the truth. That Adams girl had everything in his head and heart warped. No one had ever held his interest until now. Why did she have to be an Englischer?

  A few hours later, he leaned back in his chair, staring through the office window, his mind preoccupied with one thing.

  Her.

  Then out of nowhere she sat on a wooden bench in front of the restaurant.

  Tugged like a puppet on strings, he moved closer to the window.

  Rachel stared into the sky, her skin glowing against the sun's rays like buttercups scattered on an open field. He took a deep breath. Beautiful. Jah. Thomas had described her exactly. Mox nix! Her beauty is irrelevant. He shifted his feet, leaning forward, closer.

  It wasn’t only her beauty he couldn’t resist, but there was something else, something he needed, something he craved. He wanted to know everything about her. All of her hopes, her dreams, her fears. What made her happy, sad? Today there was something pressing on her. Was it because of what happened at the market? Was she still shaken? He could see mysterious pain etched across her face.

  Even still, as people passed, she smiled at everyone. Not just a habitual average smile, but her compassionate Rachel smile.

  Everything about her drew him in, like a force compelling him.

  Eighteen

  Rachel stood at the sink washing the breakfast dishes when a buggy pulled into the yard. Her eyes flashed in Paul's direction.

  He's here.

  Her legs wobbled, and she gripped the counter to steady herself as Paul and another young man climbed from the wagon and unloaded the siding. She leaned against the counter. They’d be outside all day. She definitely shouldn’t go out there.

  Rachel moved to the living room with a book. A non-Amish book. She glanced out the window often, peeking as Paul hung the siding.

  He stood on a ladder leaning against the front window. He climbed a few rungs, and his shirt loosened from his waistband. His black jacket lay sprawled across the swing. With each climb her heartbeat quickened. He stopped after only a few rungs, placing himself in her perfect view. She turned away when his gaze fell on her. With a tight grip on her novel, she took careful strides up the stairs.

  Rachel sat on the bed with
her phone. She hadn’t told Samantha about her crazy feelings for Paul yet, but it was time. She could trust Samantha to never tell a soul. No matter how far away they were from each other … she could be sure of that.

  Their texts went on for several minutes before Rachel found the nerve to spill her heart. She told her about fainting in the garden. How Paul didn't want to be friends after catching her with an Amish novel, but then rescued her from Jason. How something about being with him stirred feelings she'd never experienced.

  Samantha couldn't wait to visit and see this mysterious perfect Amish man for herself. If only Rachel could take his picture. A collage of pictures. She could fill a scrapbook with images of him. But that wasn't allowed. Her memories would have to suffice.

  She moved to the window and looked across the yard. Samantha sent her final text. The one that made it hard to feel the ground beneath her feet.

  You're in love. Finally.

  Paul had infused Rachel's senses for the past few weeks like no guy ever had. But in love? The thought frightened her, especially when he didn't even want to be friends.

  Paul no longer worked on the front of the house. She had peeked through each window in search of him. He stood by a makeshift table set against the barn. She stepped back.

  Rachel wanted to talk to him, to be near him. She needed a good reason to go outside. It would be uncomfortable weeding her garden with two men toiling around outside, so that wouldn't work.

  The porch needed sweeping. She pushed the broom from side to side, in long unhurried strides. But even with the slowest of motions, it didn’t take long. Only two minutes. He hadn’t even known she'd been outside.

  What else could she do? Nothing that wouldn't be completely obvious.

  Maybe there was something in her car she needed right now. Paul would be in her clear view from where it was parked. He was sure to see her and maybe he would approach her. Maybe he wanted to talk to her as much as she wanted to talk to him.

  After ambling across the yard, she climbed inside her car, leaving the door propped open. She took her time finding something. She just hadn’t decided what yet.

  She peeked over the steering wheel and caught Paul watching. She bent quickly, her pulse throbbing. After a few seconds of hiding behind her hair, she leaned forward. The heat was stifling, and she pushed the door open a little more. Maybe he thought she was getting ready to leave. She was wasting her time. He wouldn’t come over here.

  A CD.

  She grabbed her favorite Natalie Grant disc.

  ~

  Paul’s blood pumped faster when Rachel climbed into her car. Kevin had also stopped working and gazed in her direction. The admiration on Kevin’s face made Paul regret bringing him.

  Kevin cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I introduce myself?”

  No, I don’t want you to talk to her. How would that sound? Paul had no choice and simply nodded.

  A broad smile filled Kevin’s face. “We’re going to the same school this fall.”

  “Really?” His voice sounded unstable even to his own ears.

  “A mutual friend of ours told me she'll be graduating with us. I never had the opportunity to talk to her at the restaurant.”

  Dread slammed across his chest, and with each glance in her direction, reality settled over him.

  Kevin was an Englischer.

  ~

  Rachel stepped from the car and came face to face with a young man. But it wasn't Paul. His blond hair fell across his forehead and was swept to one side.

  She tried to hide her disappointment. Paul seemed intent on the materials laid out in front of him, and she concentrated on his subtle movements.

  “Hi. I'm Kevin Williams,” he said, with a slight quiver in his voice. “We’ll be going to the same school this fall.”

  “I’m Rachel. It’s nice to meet you.” She held up the CD. “I was in the mood for some Natalie Grant.”

  Kevin glanced at the clear square case. “How do you like Lancaster County?”

  “I do. It's different.”

  Kevin fumbled with his phone. “Are you on Instagram and Twitter?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I'll find you and follow you.” He smiled as if he was wrestling to keep his teeth from breaking through the barrier of his lips. He failed. “Rachel Adams, right?”

  She leaned in closer to look at the profile picture.

  “That's me.” She glanced toward the barn. Paul was staring at her. They held each other’s gaze momentarily, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

  “So, Rachel, would you like to go with me?” Kevin waited for her answer, but she hadn’t heard his question.

  She tried to make eye contact with Kevin, but she missed by a millisecond. Her thoughts were on the man working by the house. “I’m sorry, go with you?”

  “There’s a concert next Saturday night. Would you like to go with me? I could show you around and maybe we could get something to eat.” His tone shifted from friendly to flirty.

  “Oh, next Saturday. I’m sorry I already have plans, but thank you. It's so sweet of you to invite me. It's going to be nice knowing a few people before school starts.”

  “It's a small school, but I'm sure you'll like it.” Kevin rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe some other time.”

  Her gaze kept floating between Paul and Kevin. “You’re working with Paul today?”

  His eyes brightened as he leaned closer. “I usually work wherever he needs me. Today, I got lucky.”

  Her stomach plummeted. “Well, I better get inside so you can get back to work. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble. I'll see you later.”

  Rachel had imagined all sorts of scenarios when she'd stepped outside. But she walked away with nothing that she'd hoped to gain from her expedition. Except another invitation.

  It just wasn't from the right man.

  ~

  Paul tried to listen, paying close attention to her facial expressions. She smiled a lot. It bothered him. He hadn't cared that she caught him staring. How could he possibly stand the thought of Kevin dating her?

  What was her reason for saying no? Did she turn him down because she didn’t know him well enough? What if she had agreed to go with him? Even though she hadn’t, it was only a matter of time before she agreed to date someone. Whether it happened here in this plain Dutch country or next year when she went off to college, the day would come when she would.

  The image sent a pain through him so deep, it took his breath.

  He’d been handling this situation all wrong. He had to stay. If he were to leave now, an even larger gash would take its place. A gash so deep, it might never mend.

  As Rachel walked toward the house, she stared at him. Her gaze didn’t falter as he stared back. Paul only wanted to enjoy the pleasure flowing through him. Her eyes were full of questions, questions for which he had no answers. Her hair fell off her shoulder, the long straight strands covering part of her face.

  The rest of the day, he waited anxiously for her to come back out. He thought of twenty excuses to go inside. But he didn't give in. He dipped his chin, the satisfaction of her no to Kevin still humming through the air between them.

  He then endured hours of torture listening to Kevin’s plan to ask her out again, to make her fall in love with him.

  Ignoring the envious thoughts rearing their ugly heads, he considered the possibility of spending more time with her. His pulse spiked every time he was anywhere near her.

  He'd just have to find a way to deal with that.

  Nineteen

  On Monday morning. Rachel changed into her running clothes and stepped outside to the warmth of sunshine. The birds laughed at her and the flowers smiled in sympathy. As Rachel ran, she thought about her conversation with Samantha ... her conversations with Kelli. No matter how she tried to forget Paul, his image continued to dance in her mind—him talking to her, protecting her, holding her.

  She stopped mid-run and bent at the waist, her chest he
aving. “I'm in love with him.”

  Warmth crept up her neck, and she stretched four fingers across her lips realizing she'd spoken those words out loud. She checked her surroundings before resuming her jog.

  After her run, Rachel showered and slipped on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved white fitted top, dwelling on the monotonous life that belonged to her now. She never wore jeans in Florida midsummer.

  She settled with a slice of toast for breakfast. The butter melted against her tongue, the strawberry jam sweet.

  Paul’s hammer pounded against the siding as she ate. She finished her orange juice, the tangy liquid cool against her throat. At least he was here. What did it matter though? Now, even when she thought of him, an overflow of emotions strangled her.

  Singing softly, she washed the few dishes left from last night. The song intensified as she emptied the sink. The drumming of her heart quickened when Paul crossed the yard, close to the kitchen window, the only one ajar.

  Hoping to find a nice spot to do some reading, Rachel grabbed her book and blanket and stepped onto the porch. With each step, she studied the path leading into the woods. The trees were full of flowers hanging over the trail, inviting her. It would be a perfect day to explore the area and would steer her away from Paul. Especially when all she wanted was to be near him.

  She missed Florida. The ocean, the palms trees blowing in the breeze, the sand beneath her toes as she walked on the beach so many early mornings and late afternoons. She even missed the guys who wanted to be friends with her. A trip to Florida would give her a fresh dose of reality, unlike this fantasy world where nothing seemed right.

  Paul worked his way to the back side of the house and wouldn’t notice her. She peeked in his direction anyway, unable to resist. He never looked up.

 

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