Anyway, look after my mama for me and Jonathan, too.
Rachel
Daniel sighed and shook his head. He spoke out loud.
“So, you don’t see things the same way as a spoiled, rich Englischer? I wonder why!”
The horse snorted and jumped at his outburst, and Daniel looked around to see if anyone else had been listening. Rachel was right. When she married Gerald St. Clair, she was put under the bann, and the members of the Amish community of Paradise were forbidden to communicate with her. Daniel knew that his parents would be displeased if they saw the letter, so he looked around.
There was a loose board in the wall at the back of the stall, and he slipped the letter in behind it. Then he began to pace. After a moment, he made a decision. He left the barn and went into the house. He looked around to make sure nobody was downstairs, and then he went into the room his father used for an office and got an envelope, a piece of paper, and a pencil. He went back out to the barn and took his father’s clipboard off the wall by the door. Then he went back in the stall and sat down again. Quickly he began to write.
Dear Rachel,
I got your letter and you are right. I am not supposed to communicate with you. But you are my friend, and I am responding because you sound very lonely. I know you well, Rachel, and I can read between the lines. It seems that in your haste to distance yourself from Jonathan, you have made a choice that is not turning out the way you expected.
But I don’t care about all that. What I care about is you and your life. I am and always will be your friend, and if you need any help from me, or anything at all, please let me know.
Daniel
P.S. I do miss you.
He stared at the last words. What he wanted to say was how much he loved her, but she was married now, and he could not bring himself to write the words on paper. He lowered his head and was silent. A tear dropped from his eye and he quickly wiped it away. Instead of writing anymore, he prayed silently.
Lord, please be with Rachel in this time. Protect her and guard her. Set your mighty angels round about her and keep her safe. Danki. Amen.
Daniel put the letter in the envelope and sealed it, and then wrote Rachel’s address on the front. He put it in the hiding place with Rachel’s letter, and then went back into the house. He felt like someone had shoved a sharpened fence post through his heart. He could wipe away the tears from his eyes, but he could do nothing about the deep pain twisting him inside.
*****
Two weeks later, Daniel was hanging around outside the post office. He had checked for a reply from Rachel as often as he could for the last week, but he had received nothing. Several Amish folk had come and gone this morning, and he was waiting until he could go in unobserved. Rachel had sent the first letter to Daniel in care of Mrs. Shoemaker, the postmistress, so Daniel wouldn’t get in trouble. So he was expecting another letter to arrive in the same fashion.
Finally, the coast was clear and he went inside. Mrs. Shoemaker motioned for him to come to the counter. She looked around and then leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial way.
“Daniel, I have something for you from Connecticut. I hope it’s from Rachel. It’s too bad you kids can’t just talk to each other instead of sneaking around. I never understood this shunning nonsense.”
Mrs. Shoemaker saw the hurt in Daniel’s eyes and stopped.
“I’m sorry, Daniel. I didn’t mean to offend. I’m sure your customs serve their purpose, after all.”
She reached under the counter, pulled out a small manila envelope, and handed it over the counter to Daniel. Daniel took it eagerly. The postmark was from the same town in Connecticut, but the return said Augusta St. Clair, not Rachel. The address was typed on the outside:
Mr. Daniel King
c/o Mrs. Shoemaker, US Post Office
1 Leacock Rd,
Paradise, PA 17562
Daniel tore open the envelope. Inside, he found a folded sheet of paper. He pulled it out and saw something else inside. It was the letter he had written to Rachel. The letter was unopened. Daniel looked at the letter, put it down on the counter, and unfolded the sheet. It was heavy linen stationery with the St. Clair family crest on the top above Augusta St. Clair’s name and post office box in Greenwich, Connecticut. The message was short and to the point.
Dear Mr. King,
I am writing on behalf of my granddaughter-in-law, Rachel St. Clair. She wishes me to inform you that she wants nothing further to do with you or anything having to do with her old life. She requests that you cease annoying her by writing letters and that you refrain from attempting to communicate with her in any way. If you persist in your efforts, we will be forced to seek injunctive action.
Yours Truly,
Augusta St. Clair
Daniel’s heart sank. He stared at the letter from Augusta and then at his unopened letter to Rachel. Something didn’t feel right. He looked up. Mrs. Shoemaker was making strange pointing motions with her eyebrows. Then he felt a large hand rest on his shoulder.
“What’s this?”
Startled, Daniel looked around. His father stood behind him, looking over his shoulder at the two letters in Daniel’s hands. It seemed Mrs. Shoemaker suddenly remembered something she had to do in the back room, for she disappeared. Daniel faced his father.
“Can I see that?” his papa asked.
Reluctantly, Daniel handed over the letter from Augusta. His father read it and then sighed. He folded it and handed it back.
“And the other?”
Daniel pulled away. “It is personal, Papa.”
“Also, das ist persönlich? And is it from Rachel?”
Daniel trembled under his father’s stern gaze. “Nein, Papa. It is a letter I wrote to Rachel.”
Mr. King looked at his son. And then he motioned Daniel to follow him and walked outside. He put his arm around Daniel’s shoulders. “Walk with me, son.”
They walked down the steps and turned left. The King’s buggy was standing next to the yellow metal post next to the phone booth at the side of the building. Daniel’s mother was waiting in the buggy, and she started to speak as they passed. But Daniel’s papa motioned to her and kept walking. The fallen leaves crunched under Daniel’s feet as he walked with his father, and the crunching sounded like bones breaking. The stark, bare limbs of the trees stood up like withered arms reaching out for a last bit of life from a cheerless sky. They walked a few blocks before Mr. King spoke. “You know that Rachel is under the meidung, the bann?”
“Ja, Papa.”
“And you know that it is forbidden to communicate with her because she has chosen to live outside our faith and our Ordnung?”
“Ja, Papa.”
Mr. King stopped and turned to his son. “Daniel, you are a good son. You are strong and faithful, yet you are also kind and gentle. You have never given me any reason to be other than very proud of you.” He looked down at the letter in his hand. “The Ordnung may seem strict and without grace. It may seem to you that we are keeping rules by the letter of the law and not the spirit. And yet I know that the Ordnung are good if we understand that they have been written to protect our faith and our people and to keep us pure and undefiled from a world that is walking with the devil.”
“I know that, Papa—”
Daniel’s father went on. “I will not say anything about this to anyone. I trust you and know that except for your deep love for this girl, you would never have broken our rules.”
Daniel dropped his eyes. The pain in his heart was almost more than he could bear.
“But I also know that if you continue on this path, it will only bring you great sorrow.”
Daniel looked at his papa. “Daed, Rachel is in trouble. I just know it. She never would have said those things to me. Something’s wrong. She sent me a letter a few weeks ago, and I could tell she was troubled.”
“Of course she is troubled. Sie wird gestört. She disobeyed her father and mother; she married outs
ide her faith; she is bound by enormous wealth. Son, you cannot serve Gott and mammon, too. Her sins have found her out and her conscience is tearing at her.”
“But, Daed! She needs my help. I just know it.”
Mr. King held up the letter from Augusta. “Daniel! You are so bound up by this girl that you cannot see the truth. You are so blinded that you don’t see what this is. This is not a letter from” —he glanced down at the signature—”from Augusta St. Clair. It is a letter from du lieber Gott. He is telling you to stop, to give her up, to get on with your life. Don’t you understand?”
There was a long silence while father and son stared at each other. Finally, Daniel spoke.
“Ja, Papa. I understand.”
But he did not understand at all.
*****
It was late in the day. Daniel sat on a stump among the trees on the top of the knoll behind his father’s house. He was looking east. It had turned cold, and a flurry of snow had fallen before the family got home from the post office. But then the clouds had cleared and now the setting sun behind him cast long shadows toward the east. The remains of the brief storm scudded east on a brisk breeze from somewhere to the west and the trees above him rustled and shook. Daniel pulled his coat closer around him and then stood up and stamped his feet to get the circulation going.
That cold front is moving east. It will be snowing in Connecticut tonight.
He was stiff from the cold, but his thoughts were not on the temperature. Somewhere out there, Rachel was in trouble. Daniel could feel it in his whole being. Finally, he slipped to his knees, bowed his head and began seeking the Lord in prayer.
Lieber Gott im Himmel, I have to do something. Rachel needs me. Those people that she went with, they are bad. Helfen Sie mir, Herrn, show me how to help her.
And then, as clearly as if a voice had spoken, Daniel knew what he had to do.
Chapter Nineteen
Surrender
A month after their wedding, Gerald and Rachel flew to Italy for a honeymoon. Rachel wasn’t sure she wanted to go on a long trip with a man she hardly knew and had resisted mightily, but Augusta finally prevailed by suggesting that they needed to keep up appearances for the sake of their position in society. She made light of their “business” relationship as she helped Rachel pack. “It will be relaxing and a lot of fun, my dear. You’ll love the Amalfi Coast. Oh, it’s my favorite place in Europe. Just wait until you see the Bay of Naples and Mt. Vesuvius.”
Rachel had been pleasantly surprised at Gerald’s treatment of her as they traveled. Her first impression of him was that he could be a bit pretentious and somewhat spoiled. But on the trip, she began to like him. He was most solicitous and charming. He wined and dined her, and, as a special surprise, took her on a five-day excursion to Capri.
When they boarded the huge yacht and sailed out onto the deep blue bay, Rachel was swept away by the beauty of her surroundings and by Gerald’s attentive ways. She was drawn to him, infatuated with his good looks and intelligent conversation, and slowly she was pulled into the vortex of a new kind of life—a life with no cares or worries, a life that held endless possibilities, fueled by an unlimited supply of money.
Capri was an experience beyond her wildest dreams. As their yacht sailed into the port, Rachel looked up toward the sky and the great spur of rock towering above the sea. Gerald pointed to an ancient villa perched like an eagle’s nest at the top of the cliff, high above the sparkling waters. The stunning view stole Rachel’s breath away, and she looked at Gerald in amazement.
“That’s our hotel, Rachel, the Caesar Augustus. I’ve booked two suites, the best in the hotel, and they’re incredible.”
As they climbed down the gangplank to the small launch that was to take them into shore, Gerald took Rachel’s arm to steady her. The touch of his hand was somehow intoxicating, and a strange thrill ran through her. She looked at him and he smiled and took her hand. Rachel blushed and turned her eyes away.
Is this what falling in love is? If it is I...I like it.
She pressed against him as the launch cut through water that spread like glass beneath the brilliant Mediterranean sun. His arm crept around her bare shoulders, and he pulled her close against him. She felt her face burning and hid against his shoulder. New and unknown feelings flashed through her, catching her by surprise.
This is just a business arrangement. I don’t love him...or do I?
A chauffeur in full livery waited beside a limousine that was parked at the dock and they waited for a moment while the driver loaded their luggage. Then they drove up a cobbled, winding street to the top of the hill. When they pulled into the courtyard in front of the hotel, Gerald climbed out and held the door for Rachel.
“This is the only hotel on the Island that you don’t have to walk up the hill to get to.” He pointed west. A beautiful little town spread out before them. “You can walk a few hundred feet and be in Anacapri. We can go tomorrow. Then we can take a boat around to Grotta Azzurra. It’s a cave under the cliff that you can cruise through—the bluest water in the world. Oh, and did you know that Roman emperors had villas on this island? There’s a lot of history here.”
Gerald’s boyish enthusiasm amused Rachel. They stood outside for a moment, taking it all in, and then Gerald took her hand and they walked into the lobby. The concierge looked up and smiled. “Welcome back, Signor Gerald. And who is this lovely lady?”
Gerald took Rachel by the arm. “Hello, Adriano. It’s good to be back. And this is my brand new wife, Rachel.”
A big smile broke over Adriano’s face. He came around his desk and extended his hand.
“Buongiorno, signora St. Clair. Matrimoni e vescovati sono destinati dal cielo,”
Rachel looked to Gerald for a translation. Gerald laughed. “He said that marriages are made in heaven. I hope that’s true in our case.”
Adriano looked puzzled but Gerald just smiled. “Just a little joke, Adriano. Now, what about our rooms?”
Adriano glanced down at the register and then back at Gerald. “You have reserved two suites, Signor Gerald?”
Gerald spoke to Adriano in Italian. “La signora St. Clair proviene da un...un upbringing molto severo ed è molto timida. Vorrei dare a lei come molta...ah... privacy possibile fino a quando lei è più abituata a me.”
Understanding crossed Adriano’s face and he smiled and bowed. “Sì, Signor Gerald. I understand perfectly.”
Rachel leaned close to Gerald. “What did you say to him?”
Gerald whispered back. “The truth. I told him you were very shy and I wanted to give you as much privacy as possible.”
Adriano rang a small bell on his desk and a bellboy appeared magically. Adriano reached into his desk and brought out two sets of keys. He handed them to the young man. “Si prega di prendere la signora St. Clair a Cesare Master Suite e il signor St. Clair a Capri.”
The bellboy nodded and went looking for their luggage. Adriano smiled. “He will return in a moment and take you to your rooms. Again, signora St. Clair, welcome to Capri. Congratulazioni e possono avete figli maschi!”
Rachel glanced at Gerald. Gerald leaned over and whispered in her ear. “It’s a traditional Italian wedding blessing. He says he hopes you have male children.”
Rachel turned beet-red and looked at the floor while the two men laughed. Then the bellboy returned with their luggage and led them to their rooms. At the door of her suite, Rachel turned to Gerald. “Thank you for getting me my own room. I am very grateful. It is awkward, I know, but I appreciate it and hope you understand.”
Gerald took her hand and bowed over it. Then he kissed it. “Think nothing of it, Rachel. I only want you to be comfortable and happy and to enjoy being together with me.
Gerald paused and then spoke softly. “My greatest hope is that when we sort through the...strangeness of this arrangement, you might come to have feelings for me as I am...as I am beginning to have for you.”
Rachel felt something like an electr
ic shock rush down her arms and the heat came into her face again. He looked into her eyes and held them for a long moment. Then he let go of her hand and nodded to the bellboy. “It’s a beautiful suite, Rachel. I hope you like it. Say, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you meet me at the pool and we’ll go for a swim before lunch. You won’t believe the view.”
The heat faded from Rachel’s face and she gathered her emotions together.
“All right. That sounds fine. I’ll see you there shortly, as soon as I unpack a few things.”
Gerald turned and went off down the corridor. The young man turned the key, opened the door, and motioned for her to enter. Rachel stepped into the room and stopped, amazed. It was the most beautiful room she had ever seen. The walls were pristine white and beautiful matching drapes hung in all the arches that soared above the doorways, tied back with gray woven ropes. The parquet floors shone with a luminous glow and the accents in the room were gorgeous red and gray. The furniture was dark wood and there were lamps of gleaming brass set on the desks and on the tables by the couch. Rachel walked into the room. The young man came in behind her and set her luggage down. He turned to go. Rachel reached for her purse, but the young man smiled. “No, la signora St. Clair. Il signor Gerald mi ha già dato un suggerimento.”
He smiled at her puzzled look and tried again in English. “Mr. Gerald. He already tip.”
Rachel nodded and smiled as the young man left. She turned back to the room. It was spectacular. Almost circular in shape, it had huge arches all around. The afternoon sun blazed off a glass door that opened out onto a terrace. White curtains framed the arches like clouds, and through them, Rachel could see the beautiful Bay of Naples. She stood entranced as the sun ricocheted off tiny, breeze-borne waves like a million bright candles.
She toured each room. The immaculate bathroom walls shone with white tile trimmed in blue, and the sinks were jade-green marble. As she looked in the bronze-framed mirror above the sinks, she could see the reflection of the sea through the enormous window behind her.
The Amish Heiress (The Paradise Chronicles Book 1) Page 14