Chasing Paradise (A Paradise Novel Book 1)

by Cindy Patterson

  Forty-Seven

  Rachel stared at the menu, her eyes glazing with unshed tears every few seconds. The loud chatter surrounding her was drowned out in her own afflicting thoughts.

  Kelli leaned into her. “Are you all right?”

  “No.” She didn't want to be here. Heaven knew the turmoil she'd just encountered only minutes ago gave her plenty of reasons to be anxious. Celebrating was the last thing on her mind.

  “What's wrong?” Kelli asked in a hushed voice.

  “Paul's here.”

  Kelli glanced around the restaurant. “Where?”

  Rachel couldn't believe she was having this conversation. Paul had been at the game, watching her. She automatically recalled every play she'd made, how she reacted to each play, each pitch, how she looked standing in the batter's box. “He was at the game.”

  She expected a swift response, but instead Kelli covered her mouth. “Come with me.” Kelli slid out of the booth and steered Rachel toward the door and outside. “Did you talk to him?”

  “He was waiting by my car after the game.”

  Kelli squealed, but then her wide smile flipped to a frown within an instant. “You left him there. I can't believe you left him there.”

  “He told me to come.” Rachel's lips fluttered into a laughing smile. “I'm not in the mood to celebrate.”

  “Of course you're not. What did he say?”

  “He's going to stop by my house later.” She laughed over the excited tickle seeping into her stomach, but it was a feeling she couldn't indulge. Not yet.

  “Are you serious? You have to go. I'll tell the others something really important came up.” Rachel barely had time to steady herself before Kelli slammed into her with a vigorous hug. “I'm so happy for you. Go.”

  Rachel's lips trembled with uncertainty. She had no idea what Paul planned to tell her—or if she even wanted to hear what he had to say.

  She walked to the creek as soon as she returned home. She needed some time to herself—to process it all. Propped against a tree, she listened to the birds chirp and small animals scurry through the woods. An ache deep in her chest pulled at her and her first tears fell. This was what she'd been wanting. To see him. To talk to him.

  Pulling her knees tight against her chest, she fought the sobs building in her throat. It would be impossible to stop crying once she started. The empty feeling she was accustomed to now carried more sensations than she could stand. But there was also a strange sort of peace.

  A branch broke nearby and Rachel jerked back. Clouds had settled in, and her vision was limited through the thick trees.

  The crunching of leaves grew stronger and she stood, but the uneasy feeling wouldn't budge. Paul? The sound grew closer, and her heart began to hammer.

  Then Jason appeared on the other side of the bridge. “Hi, Rachel.” He took slow steps toward her.

  She inhaled, her chest heaving. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.” Jason moved forward and she took an awkward step back. “I came to see you. I thought I would have trouble convincing you to meet somewhere in private, but you've made this easy for me.” Jason ran his fingers across his chin. “It's much better than anything I could've come up with.”

  She reached for her phone, but her pocket was empty. She'd left it in the car. “How did you find me?”

  “I followed you home from the restaurant.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Really, Rachel. You already know the answer.” He took a step onto the bridge, never taking his eyes from hers. “We still haven't had our date.”

  “Date? Yeah, I ... I'm ... still wearing my uniform. I should go in and change.” She looked past him.

  “There's no need for that. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

  “Still, I should go in. I'm meeting someone.”

  “No, you're not.” His smile was more a pout. “I’ve waited so long to have you all to myself. And you're trying to turn me down again?”

  “It isn't that. I just really need to get inside before my mom starts to worry.” She had no way out. She would have to cross the bridge to get back to the trail. Could she outrun him? If she screamed, it would do no good. Solitude was the reason she so often came here. Rachel tightened her ponytail, trying hard not to betray her panic.

  “Your mom isn't here.” He stared at her as if gauging her reaction. Then he blasted her with an even worse accusation. “I was surprised to find out your Amish boyfriend left you.”

  “He's coming ... he'll be here any minute.”

  “You lie.” Anger darkened his face. “You're here all alone.” His voice dropped. “I made sure.”

  “Okay.” She glanced toward the house, gasping for a breath of fresh air. Could she get him closer to her house? “Where do you want to go?”

  He laughed, his eyes glowing with rage. Rachel took an involuntary step back. “We're not going anywhere. This is perfect. A very romantic place for our reunion.”

  The stream of water flowed in the deep trench below her. Could she make it across? With one more step, he’d reach her. She had to try and took off in the opposite direction. When she stumbled over her feet, he grabbed her and crushed her against him. “Where do you think you're going?” His fingers ran down her cheek and slowly south toward her neck.

  “Please, I don't even know you,” she begged. “You know nothing about me.”

  “I know all I need to know,” he whispered against her hair. “Look at it this way. You’ll never be alone again. I know how miserable you’ve been. I saw you yesterday as you drove away from that farm, the pain on your face. The tears in your eyes. I followed you for over an hour. You don’t know the control it took to not go to you. But I waited, wanting this moment to be perfect. Now we’ll never have to be apart again.”

  His lips crushed against hers in a cruel kiss intent on punishing. The whiskey on his breath clung to her mouth. She tried squirming from beneath him, but his grip was firm. He yanked the bottom of her shirt up, baring her belly.

  She screamed as loud and as hard as she could. He turned her around and pulled harder on her shirt. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. God, please show me a way out.

  Forty-Eight

  Rachel's heart raced as Jason's grip tightened.

  “Let go of her,” a voice bellowed from somewhere behind Rachel, a voice she’d know anywhere. The same voice she heard in her memory every day. Yet it sounded deeper, angrier.

  Jason released her and Rachel plummeted to the ground. On trembling knees, she edged away inch by inch. Her breath came in short spurts. Crawling deeper into the woods, she left the voices and the sound of harsh punching behind. Briars and limbs scratched her face as she pushed through the brush.

  Not paying attention to where she headed, she focused only on getting as far away as she could.

  She fell face first, branches scraping her cheeks. Her tears blended with dirt and leaves as her sobs grew louder. Fear pushed her until she could hear nothing but the shuffling of her body. Her hair tangled in a web of briars, and her gelatin arms and legs gave out. Numbness settled over her in the cold dampness of the woods.

  Time seemed to stand still as images swirled making her dizzy. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn't. Paul showing up at the ball game and promising to stop by later. Paul punching Jason in the mouth and knocking him to the ground. Had it all been a dream?

  The faint sound of footsteps came closer. She curled onto her side scooting farther behind the thick base of a tree. Crunching leaves and breaking branches grew louder, and Rachel wrapped her arms around her legs tighter. Movement stopped and there was complete silence.

  A strong hand touched her and Rachel screamed, the shrill sound of her voice echoing through the woods.

  “Rachel, it’s okay. It’s me.” Paul lifted her from the ground. “Are you hurt?”

  The sound of his voice settled across her soul like a calming lullaby. She clung to his neck as h
e carried her through the woods and across the bridge. When they emerged into the yard, he placed her on her feet.

  Mom met them at the oak tree and embraced Rachel. “Are you all right?”

  Blue lights were flashing. “Where did the police come from?”

  He nudged Rachel toward her mother. “I'll take care of this.”As Paul approached the officer, he glanced over his shoulder toward Rachel. “Can you give her a minute? I'll be glad to help you.” Paul walked away with the officer.

  Mom stroked Rachel's hair. “Come on, I'll explain.”

  She compelled her gaze from Paul as her mother led her onto the porch, explaining how Paul had showed up moments after she did and yelled for her to call for help as he raced into the woods. Mom’s tears fell freely, her face tormented. “It was as if he knew immediately you were in danger. I hadn't even noticed the truck parked on the grass.”

  “Neither did I.” She desperately wanted to dismiss the whole scene and pretend it had never happened, but her racing pulse wouldn't comply and her breath was even more shallow. “I had no idea that creep was back in town.”

  “You know him?”

  “He came into the restaurant. There was sort of another incident.”

  “Why didn't you tell me?”

  Talking with her mom calmed some of the rough edges around her anxiety. “I didn't want you to worry. Things were finally getting better. You weren't crying as often. I didn't want to make things worse.”

  Fear. Hurt. Other emotions merged, claiming her mom's features. “Rachel?”

  Her whispered name broke the last morsel of strength holding her together. Rachel blinked and a sob escaped her throat. The past raced forward at a blinding pace. How could she have kept the incident with Jason from her mom?

  “You should tell the police.”

  “Paul knows. He was there.” Rachel brought her gaze back to Paul. “He’s here.”

  “Yes, baby, I know.”

  Rachel stared into her mother’s knowing eyes. “You knew he was here?”

  “He stopped by before the game.”

  Rachel held her arms against her chest as they fell quiet and listened to Paul's conversation with the remaining officer.

  “It would be a good idea to have her file a restraining order.” The policeman's voice trailed through the silent moment.

  Rachel shivered as the lingering sensation of Jason's hands on her seeped into her skin.

  After a few minutes of both Paul and Rachel answering questions, the officer drove away. Paul placed his hand in the small of her back and led her to the porch, the dried mud heavy on her clothes, her arms, her legs.

  Mom led them inside. “Why don’t you take a shower? It'll make you feel better.”

  She glanced at Paul. What if he left? They hadn’t had a chance to talk.

  After he guided her inside, Paul squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll wait.”

  “Do you need any help?” Mom called after her as she climbed the stairs.

  “No, I’ll be fine.” She met Paul’s weary gaze, before turning the corner toward the bathroom.

  Standing under the hot steaming water, she scrubbed the grunge sticking to her, but couldn’t escape the feel of Jason’s fingers. Images scattered through her brain, some sharper than others. His voice. His hands. Her fear. Tears blinded her vision and huge sobs shook her frame. What if Paul hadn't come? Just then a soft rap echoed from the doorway and Rachel stilled.

  “Are you all right?”

  She took a full breath and shut the water off. “Yes, Mama. I'll be out in a minute.”

  After dressing, she sniffed and dabbed her eyes with a tissue, trying to rid the errant tears that were now flowing freely. Rachel took careful steps down the stairs.

  As she entered the living room, Paul came toward her. “Do you want to rest a while?” His voice was strong, yet soft, just as she’d remembered. “I don't mind coming back tomorrow.”

  The earlier struggle had taken all her energy, but she fought the weariness. She couldn’t risk showing her weakness, not wanting him to leave. Especially now. “No, I'm fine. Do you want to sit on the porch?”

  “Whatever makes you the most comfortable.”

  As they stepped outside, Rachel looked beyond the trees to the sky over Paradise. Her comfort was in Jesus who'd sent Paul at the very moment she needed him. “Thank you, Paul. For being there.”

  He smiled as he searched her eyes, then a shadow fell over his features. “Are you sure he didn't hurt you?”

  “No, I promise I'm not hurt, unless you want to count my rattled nerves.” Suddenly amidst her thrill of standing with Paul, a thought occurred to her. “You hit him ... really hard.”

  “You saw that?”

  “I did.” It had been an astounding moment. Paul Fischer, an Amish man, who grew up believing things weren't settled with brute force, had knocked Jason unconscious.

  And he had done it for her.

  Forty-Nine

  Paul slid a chair from across the porch and plopped down in front of her. He wanted to see every feature of her face.

  The scratch marks stretching across her cheeks invited a new bout of rage and he clenched his jaw. “I can't stop thinking about that creep and what would've happened ...” He bawled his fists, thinking of that animal with his hands all over her. “I should've ...”

  “No, Paul.” She grabbed his hands, the warmth of her fingers shocking his anger until it slowly diminished. “You did exactly what you should've done. You were there and stopped him and that's all that matters now.”

  “I'm sorry, Rachel. For this. For everything.”

  Her gaze fell as if she were purposely avoiding him. Then she put a division between them, her hands falling away with the sudden movement. He missed their connection instantly.

  She looked past him toward his truck. “What's in the back of your truck? Are you doing landscaping now, too?”

  “Actually, those are for you.”

  “Me?” Her gaze finally met his and it was all he expected. Hope, amusement, joy.

  “I was going to plant you a flower garden.” He pointed to the vacant space along the porch but kept his attention on her to avoid missing her reaction. She seemed pleasantly surprised and that's all the assurance he needed. “Come see them.”

  The walk to his truck took too long, or maybe it only seemed that way because he was aching to take her hand.

  “They're gorgeous.” She studied each flower, her gaze stilling on each one until she finished, then hesitated only a moment before facing him fully. “Why are you doing this?”

  His eyes clinched shut as his persistent guilt dangled over him like a black cloud. “I was hoping we could do it together.”

  A slight look of confusion covered Rachel's face, but even still she smiled. The temperature was dropping as the sun hid behind the trees, but it wasn't cool enough for the incessant quiver of Rachel's lower lip, the tremor of her hands, or the shudder of her upper body. Standing this close but so distant was driving him crazy, so he leaned in closer until they were only a breath apart. “Are you cold?”

  “No, I don't know what's wrong with me. I just can't stop shaking.”

  Spontaneous tears streamed from her eyes as he gently stroked the raw streaks across her cheek. Unable to bear the space between them, he brought her to him, holding her against his chest. “I left to protect you, Rachel, but it was wrong. I was wrong. About everything.” Tears fell from her lashes as she glanced up to meet his gaze. “I was forced to leave you, then asked to stay away from you.”

  She tried lowering her gaze again, but Paul lifted her chin. He so desperately wanted to kiss her—to taste the sweetness he dreamed of every night since he left. “Rachel, you captured my heart, but you deserved so much better than anything I could offer you. A life of pain, of never being accepted from my family, my friends.” Looking at her now, he knew he had hurt her worse than any of his family ever could.

  “You didn't give me a chance.” Something dee
per than uncertainty flickered in her eyes. And then she laughed. She was angry, but only a little. And that gave him hope. “That didn’t matter to me. I just wanted you.” She lowered her lashes and fresh tears dripped onto her shirt. The thought of leaving her again felt like a knife in his side. “There wasn’t an hour in each day I didn’t think of you. When I visited last month, my aunt told me my parents weren’t Amish. My parents were Englischers.”

  She pulled away and looked into his eyes. Her baffled expression slowly slipped away as the truth clarified her confusion.

  “I wanted to talk to you so badly. I went to your house and saw your lantern. I was so close to pulling in your driveway, but then I saw you standing in the yard with Jordan. I knew you could find happiness with him. From the beginning, I knew how he felt for you.”

  “Paul …”

  “I left with no intention of ever returning. I couldn't. Knowing I could never hurt you again and knowing how it would hurt seeing you with him or anybody else. I hated myself everyday for leaving, for not standing up for you. For us. And then you were there ... in Ocean City.”

  Rachel’s eyes brightened for the first time since he'd arrived. “It was you?” Her head tilted to the side. “I thought I was going crazy, that it was my imagination. You were looking right at me. Then I turned and you were gone.” She searched his face for more answers.

  He drew her close, and her body trembled against his. She stayed in his arms allowing him to hold her. Touching her was something he’d only dared dream about. It felt too good to be real.

  “So, you aren’t Amish? What does that mean?”

  He pulled free the strands of hair sticking to her face. “It means I'm also an Englischer by birth.” He thought he’d gotten through to her, but then her expression fell. “I left on my own to start a new life.”

  She pulled away. “What about Anna?”

  “Anna was never anything more than a friend. But that wasn't good enough for her. When she threatened me, I didn't think I had any other choice but to leave.”