Chasing Paradise (A Paradise Novel Book 1)

by Cindy Patterson

  “Wunderbaar gut. We're expecting a bobblin in November,” she whispered.

  “Oh, Mary, that's so exciting.” Rachel’s tears burned her eyes. She felt truly happy for Mary but sad at the same time. She’d hoped to be Mary’s sister-in-law someday.

  You should come by the house. I know Mamm and Daed would love to see you.” Mary met her gaze, eyes filled with grief. “Paul isn’t here. He won't come back.”

  Rachel shifted in her own personal earthquake. How hard it would be to go to that house again! “I'm leaving to spend the weekend in Florida.”

  “How exciting for you to get to visit your friends! Please stop by the house when you get back.” Mary embraced her. “I better find my family. Thomas is silly when it comes to me these days.” Rubbing a circle around her belly, she beamed. “He says I’m fragile.”

  Rachel watched Mary walk away, hating to let her go. Mary was her last real connection to him..

  Forty

  Paul's uncle was getting worse. Mary wrote, begging him to come for a few days. She assured him Rachel wouldn’t be in town for the week. There'd be no risk of a chance meeting.

  He could visit his family, his uncle, and then return to Hershey where he'd been staying.

  Paul drove his buggy into Paradise from the opposite direction, avoiding Rachel's house even though everything in him wanted to veer his horse in her direction. Months had passed since he'd been to Paradise. There were too many reminders of Rachel here.

  He walked to the barn needing some time to himself. Filling Nelly’s trough, he stared into the splashing water. Knowing Rachel was in Florida, hundreds of miles away, didn’t make it easier.

  The barn door screeched as Aunt Leah entered. “Paul, I need to talk to you about something, and I just want you to hear me out before you say anything.”

  He turned off the hose and propped his arm on the fence.

  She moved toward the stall and fed Nelly an apple. “Mary told me about Rachel, about your feelings for her.”

  His heart slammed around in his chest. How could Mary do that to him? Would Aunt Leah ask him to never return?

  “I knew you were keeping something from us. And I should've already talked to you about this.” She lifted her hands, then let them fall. “I just kept hoping it would go away.”

  He should've been honest with his family from the beginning.

  “Don’t be upset with Mary.” Why would he have a right to be upset? Paul kept quiet and waited, confused. He made circles in the dirt with his boot. “I forced it from her. Ach, you two are so close, I knew you must have talked to her. And then she told me about Anna spreading rumors and how pushy she's been. “Paul, you were so young when your parents died. I had no reason to tell you. I wanted you to be happy here, happy living our lifestyle. You were thriving. Some young men and women want to leave, but you never did. Not that I know of anyway. Not until Rachel.”

  What did his parents have to do with this? “I don’t understand.”

  “Paul, your mom and dad weren’t Amish, but Englischers, just as I was when I met your uncle.”

  His grip tightened on the railing. “What?”

  “I met your uncle when I was nineteen then I fell in love with him.”

  The truth bore into his soul. He wasn’t who he’d always believed. His aunt was an Englischer. And his aunt and uncle were still together. And happy. “I’m not Amish?”

  “Not by birth. You were born into an Englisch family, just like your mama and me. You’ve been like a son to us. A piece of my sister who I loved so dearly and grieved so desperately.” She grabbed a handkerchief and wiped her eyes.

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “I lost you anyway. You left us and will probably never come back. Mary told me you wouldn’t let our reaction to your relationship hurt Rachel. I understand better than you know, because I was that girl. Your uncle has always been so hard on you. I know he’s the main reason. His father had nothing to do with him for years after we married. I admire you so much for loving Rachel enough not to put her through that.”

  “So ... so, what're you saying?”

  “You don’t have to make a choice. You can be with her and still be a part of our family. I know the turmoil you must've been feeling for so long. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Of course, your uncle knows and persuaded me to tell you the truth. You've always been a strong, hard worker. He's so proud of you. The reason he pushes you so hard is because he sees your potential. He knows you have what it takes to succeed.”

  He could've married Rachel without losing his family. They would've still loved him. They would've loved her.

  “Rachel is a wunderbaar gut girl. You should go to her.”

  His mind spun in a whirlwind of what could be. What could've been.

  “I'll leave you to your thoughts, but please think about what I’ve said. I hate for you to leave again, but no one can make that decision but you.” She left through the barn door, looking back once before letting the door close.

  He settled on the bench. How had he lived all these years and not put that together? He was only four when his parents died, but still he should've remembered. The memories of his mom and dad were so vague.

  And Rachel. How he wanted to talk to her! The reason he left came flooding back. Anna threatening to destroy Rachel's reputation with those pictures. He had no choice but to agree to let Rachel go. Somehow, Anna had believed that if Rachel were out of the picture, he’d naturally fall back on her. How wrong she’d been! Instead, he’d left—to spare Rachel’s reputation, instead of taking up for her. Then he remembered the part of Mary's letter, the part he wished he'd never read, the part explaining about Rachel and Jordan. How she'd found happiness with him.

  He should’ve never left and now it was too late. He should've stayed and fought for her—for them.

  Forty-One

  Paul wouldn’t be able to sleep until he drove by Rachel's house. He couldn't stop thinking about her, about how much he'd hurt her.

  Rachel wouldn't be there. Not yet. But then he noticed lights as his buggy approached the farmhouse. Had they come home early? The lantern burned in the loft. It felt as if all his breath bottled up in his chest.

  He stopped Nelly near the edge of the tall pines, giving him the perfect view of her house. It would take all his strength to keep going. He should tell her the truth. She deserved that much.

  ~

  Jordan had pulled into Rachel's driveway long after the sun hid behind the trees. He climbed from the truck and she met him in the yard. She had been sitting in the loft soaking in the cool breeze from the open window. She leaned back, her mind tortured with thoughts of summer, softball, planting vegetables. And a garden snake sneaking up on her and a certain Amish man rescuing her.

  He lifted her and swung her around like he used to when they were kids.

  “How's my favorite girl?”

  “Much better now.” Jordan had a way of making her forget. At least for a while.

  ~

  Paul wanted more than anything to see Rachel's face one more time. Hadn't he left his favorite chisel? Any reason would do. He sent Nelly forward and came to a stop directly in front of her house, ready to turn in, when a dagger ripped through his chest. The porch light glowed on Rachel and Jordan standing in the yard, in an embrace. It was true. They were together. Then she pulled away, and Paul could hear her laughter. It was a full, carefree laugh. One that ended Paul's doubt. She wasn't pining for him. She'd found happiness with Jordan, a normal life, one without the complications he’d caused. Exactly what he'd wanted for her.

  With heavy limbs, he snapped the reins and pushed Nelly on.

  Back home, he hurried upstairs, avoiding everyone. Throwing his shirt across the room, he stared into the darkness as he leaned against the door. The image of Rachel in Jordan’s arms tortured his every thought. What had he done? He'd given up the only girl he'd ever loved.

  ~

  Jordan searched her
face. “What have you been doing?”

  “I went to the Central Market today.”

  “By yourself?” His overprotective attitude was reasonable. They'd grown up together and Jordan had always treated her like a younger sister. But today it annoyed her, prompting too many painful memories, especially after her chance meeting with Mary.

  “Yes, by myself.” She moved a few paces from him. “I saw Mary and talked to her awhile.”

  He shrugged. “Is that supposed to be one of those Amish people?” His scathing tone injured her wounded heart even deeper.

  “She’s not just an Amish person. She’s one of my best friends.” She hadn't meant to be harsh, but Jordan was pushing her. Away. She didn't want that, but he was getting real close to leaving her no choice.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it.” He took her hand. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

  Stretching her lips into a forced smile, Rachel concluded it would be best to steer clear of all Amish conversation for more than that reason alone. “Yeah, you're right.”

  He turned and faced her fully. “I know this is a little backwards for me to ask you, but I want to take you to your senior prom.”

  She absorbed each word, reeling with the question that had changed everything. “I’m not going to prom.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “What?”

  Rachel's heart thudded in her chest. That had been one of her last conversations with Paul. One she still regretted. “I'm not going.”

  “When are you going to move on?” His tone deepened. “It's your senior year. There’s no reason to miss your prom on account of that Amish scum …” Jordan stopped.

  That last statement threw a chunk of burning coals into her blazing temper. Leaning against his truck behind her, she wrapped both arms tight against her stomach and turned before she said something she'd regret.

  “Rachel, I’m so sorry.” Jordan tried to take her arm, but she jerked away. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Just go.” Emotion clogged her throat and silent tears streamed along her cheeks as she stared out across the yard, her anger swelling, her heart yanked in two.

  Jordan moved into the space next to her. “I'm sorry.”

  Rachel made every effort to overlook the snide remark Jordan made but she couldn't. Her heart sided with Paul.

  It always would.

  ~

  The next morning, Paul had barely sat at the breakfast table before he captured everyone's attention. “I'm leaving Hershey. And I want to try out the Englisch life.” He glanced at his uncle first. What would he think?

  Searching each of their faces, his gaze stilled on Mary’s. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Paul, I don’t want you to leave again. Can’t you do that here?”

  “I’ll come and visit someday, I promise. But I have to go and I’m leaving tomorrow.” It would be a long time before he would be able to keep that promise, but Mary would understand.

  “Ach, you can be Englisch here just as easy as anywhere else,” Aunt Leah added.

  Uncle Abram cleared his throat. “Paul, you're already settled in your business. You have plenty of work. And everyone’s constantly asking for you here.”

  Paul leaned back and took a deep breath. “We were awarded a new project on the east coast, and Caleb Lapp has agreed to go with me.”

  “When?”

  “We’re leaving at first light.”

  Uncle Abram crossed his arms. “If that's what you need to do, we’ll stand behind you. You’ll always be welcome in my home.”

  Mary pushed herself up from the table, though Thomas grabbed her arm trying to stop her. “Won’t you even try?” Shaking her head, Mary left the room without another word. Paul met Thomas’s understanding gaze.

  If only it were that easy to go to Rachel and make everything right again. But he couldn’t. He had to start over again, somewhere new. It would only complicate things for Rachel if he showed up now. He had hurt her enough.

  ~

  Rachel fidgeted all the way to the Fischer's house, but she had promised Mary she’d come for a visit. Two weeks had already passed. She couldn’t put it off any longer. Pulling onto the familiar path, Rachel parked the car. She held her elbows tight against her sides as she walked toward the front door.

  Mary met her in the driveway, and they shared a brief hug.

  “How's your uncle?”

  “We buried him last week. It was a nice ceremony.”

  Rachel followed Mary up the porch steps, her heart heavy for her friend.

  “I’m so glad you came. Would you like to visit out here porch? It’s a beautiful morning.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “Come in first, and I’ll fix us a glass of tea. Mamm and Daed will want to see you.”

  How much did they know?

  “I thought you'd have come sooner. You came back earlier last week, ain’t so?”

  “We didn't go.” Rachel answered, her throat constricting.

  Her heart skipped a beat as they walked inside and the steam of boiling collards filled the space over the stove, the scent strong.

  “Rachel Adams.” Mary’s mother wrapped an arm around Rachel’s shoulder. “How wunderbaar gut to see you.”

  A smile reached through Rachel's tightened lips and filled her mouth. “You too.” Their hug was interrupted by the sound of the back door.

  Leah walked toward her husband. “Abram, look who came for a visit.”

  “Gut day, young lady. It’s gut to see you again.”

  Mary linked her arm through Rachel’s. “We’re going to visit on the porch. Let me know when you need my help.”

  Rachel opened the front door, her fingers trembling. They acted no different. She exhaled as she sat on the swing. He never told them anything.

  Mary pushed her foot against the wooden planks. “You know they’ll want you to stay for dinner.”

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Mamm will set a place for you whether you stay or not.” Mary patted Rachel’s hand. “I understand if you feel uncomfortable.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Mary laughed. “Gut enough. Guess what? I’m hoping to buy a quilt shop in town.”

  “A quilt shop?”

  “I’m waiting until the bobblin comes. Thomas doesn’t want me on my feet all day.”

  Rachel wrapped her arms around her friend. “Oh, I’m so happy for you.”

  “So you never went to Florida?”

  “No, instead, I'm going on a youth missions trip next weekend.”

  “That sounds fun. When Paul came …” Mary stopped.

  The news took Rachel's breath. They both looked at each other at the same time. Mary hadn’t meant to tell her. “He was here? For the funeral?”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

  “Is he staying?” Rachel looked toward the barn. He might still be here?

  “No, and he won’t be coming back.” Her voice was certain.

  The lump forming in Rachel's throat plummeted and bottomed out in the pit of her stomach. She'd missed her only opportunity to see him.

  “I told him you’d be in Florida. That’s the only reason he agreed to come.” Pity filled her eyes.

  There was that buggy in the middle of the road, in front of her house. It was him? He hadn't stopped. “That was him?” She'd been with Jordan. “He was there.” He must have seen them. Together. “I have to go.”

  Mary called after her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I…”

  “It’s not your fault.” Without looking back, she hurried to her car a yelp escaping her throat.

  She couldn’t get the image of his buggy sitting there from her mind. She drove slowly out of Mary’s driveway onto the road. Why hadn’t she known it was him? She would've chased after him.

  It had been months since he left, yet the gravity of pain felt as if he’d only left yesterday.

  Her mom stood at t
he sink washing dishes when Rachel walked inside. She grabbed the towel, drying her hands as she walked quickly toward Rachel. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “It's nothing. I’ll be in my room.” She climbed the stairs, clinging to the railing. When she reached her room, she opened her Bible, holding it to her chest. She pulled it away, the paper crinkling as she searched through the scriptures. It had been months since she'd turned to Jesus. Why? He was the only one who could bring her comfort. Finding a verse, she prayed it to the Lord.

  Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. Relieve the troubles of my heart and free me from my anguish. Psalm 25:16-17

  ~

  Working as an Englischer proved to be more difficult than Paul had imagined. They’d been working in the city for weeks, yet he couldn’t get used to the difference. His Amish heritage still clung to him, as if permanently stamped on his skin.

  Paul rolled the too tight shirt sleeves up. How long would it take to get used to jeans and ball caps.

  Caleb climbed from the ladder laughing. “Buddy, we’re not in Amish country. And it wouldn’t hurt to lose some of the Pennsylvania Dutch.” Caleb moved to stand in front of him. “You need to do something to get your mind off that girl. At least you're the one who broke her heart and not the other way around.”

  Paul stared into the busy street. It had been months, but still he thought of Rachel every hour of every day.

  Like Caleb. Paul had been so insensitive. Caleb was crushed when his Englischer wife left him and took up with another Englischer. An ex-boyfriend.

  “Why don’t you at least tell her what you’ve found out? It could change everything.”

  “Ach, nein. She's with Jordan.”

  “You don't know that for sure. They were gut friends.” Why would Caleb of all people encourage him to reach out to her? “You're not Amish. You should go to her. She deserves to hear the truth. From you.” Caleb slapped Paul’s shoulder. “If not, you need to move on, man.”

  He should tell Rachel about his parents and his decision to try the Englisch lifestyle. What if she found out from someone else? He wanted to go to her. More than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life.