Marrying Jake

by Beverly Bird

  She brought her chin up defiantly. Jake stared at her. “Want to buy a pair of jeans?” he heard himself ask.

  She stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Jeans. Blue jeans.”

  “How?” she breathed.

  “We’ll just go into that store across the street there and buy them. You can change in the dressing room.”

  “Why?” she gasped.

  “I don’t know. Just because.” Something squirmed inside him. Because she wanted to, he thought. He could see it in her eyes. It would be a wonderful adventure for her. And he wanted to give her that.

  “Because is no reason, Jacob,” she managed.

  “Honey, it’s every reason in the world.”

  She continued to stare at him. He was crazy. But she wanted to. She wanted to do this so badly. She yearned. But then reality hit her. “I have no money, Jacob. Certainly none that I’d spend on myself.”

  Watching her eyes slide away, that whole thing with the puppy came back to him all over again. There was no help for him, for the little boy he had been, but damn it to hell, this woman was going to have her blue jeans.

  “I have money.” He’d taken a hundred and fifty dollars from his account. And he might even have a buck or two to spare on his credit card.

  “How...how much do they cost?” she ventured.

  “Hell, I don’t know.” He’d never bought a pair of women’s jeans before in his life. “Fifty dollars? Shouldn’t be more than that.”

  Her eyes went huge. “So much?” It was a fortune! It was more than a week’s worth of groceries! Frank had only given her thirty dollars every Friday to buy in Divinity those things that the farm didn’t provide.

  Jake read the horror in her face. “Probably less,” he corrected himself. “As long as we don’t pay for somebody’s fancy name on your seat.”

  She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. “Why would I want to do that?”

  He didn’t answer. He left the enclosure and started down the walk toward the street. She watched him slap his hand on the hood of the taxi. He thrust a bill at the driver when the man looked up.

  “Take off,” he told him.

  “But she said—”

  “She was wrong. Bye.” He looked back at her. She was still standing frozen inside the little enclosure. She inched outside to stare at him.

  “Jacob, I can’t let you do this!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because...” She thought frantically for another reason. “Because it really is so very wasteful. How can we spend money on something I’ll never wear again?”

  “Then wear them again.”

  Her eyes widened in horror once more. “I can’t do that!”

  Jake swore under his breath, then he came back to her. He took her chin in his hand. “Then stick them in a drawer,” he said softly, “and every once in a while, open that drawer and touch them and pretend. Or remember. Katya, there’s no going rate on dreams.”

  Her eyes filled. He understood.

  “Will you stop that?” he demanded.

  “What?” she asked tremulously.

  “Getting all misty-eyed like that.”

  “No one ever did anything like this for me before.” She was shaking, she wanted this so badly. “Can I pay you back?”

  He thought of what Adam had said about her needing to find a way to support herself. And her four kids. She wasn’t going to come up with the cash any time soon. “Sure.”

  “O-kay, then.”

  “Yeah?” He realized he was delighted. And surprised. He’d fully expected her to back off. He knew that Adam’s Mariah had clung to the ways of her faith during her meidung, her shunning, even though she didn’t have to. Because they weren’t restrictions to her. The ordnung rules provided walls and foundations to her world. She’d still dressed in her plain clothing, had still eschewed a telephone and electricity, because she believed in the sanctity that sameness and simplicity brought to Amish families.

  This woman was different. He was beginning to understand that she was so different, in so very many ways.

  “Yeah,” he said again, and grinned, then he felt a shot of good, old-fashioned anticipation. “Okay, stay with me here. Something tells me you don’t have a lot of experience at dodging traffic.”

  He caught her hand and pulled her across the intersection against the light. Horns blared. She cried out, but she was laughing. She was laughing because her feet never even touched the pavement and because he was holding her hand.

  Her heart boomed with a new, wonderful, giddy kind of fear. She was floating on air.

  Chapter 11

  Katya was in the dressing room for nearly twenty minutes, until Jake began to worry that something had gone wrong in there. Normally, it wouldn’t even occur to him. What could happen to anyone in a store dressing room? But Katya’s wide-eyed simplicity made anything possible.

  When she finally came out, his breath left him in a burst of relief. Then his heart staggered. She stood there, her eyes darting. He was standing by the cash register, and that was the one direction her gaze didn’t go. He had a few heartbeats in which to watch her unaware.

  He tried to decide if she looked as though she thought a lightning bolt was going to spear through the ceiling and strike her—or if she thought everyone in the place was staring at her. Everyone wasn’t. From Jake’s vantage point, it seemed to be only the men.

  “Uh, I think she’ll take them,” he said to the salesclerk. He dropped money on the counter without taking his eyes from Katya and began to move toward her.

  The jeans hugged her legs, her backside, her hips. They weren’t a fancy designer brand, but they had been created for her body, for her precise curves. He’d thought she was too thin. He’d thought she wouldn’t have many curves—though admittedly it had been hard to tell beneath that shapeless dress. Now, clearly, they were all right there, plain as day, just where they ought to be.

  His heart moved harder.

  He worked his gaze upward from her legs with an effort. She’d chosen a boxy lavender sweater to go with the jeans. It only reached to her waist, and as she turned this way and that, looking for him, tantalizing glimpses of skin peeked out. She must have felt the air, or his eyes, because she tugged at the hem of it, then she gave a gusty sigh and let her hands fall.

  Her hair was still wild, free, almost waist-length except for those strands that always found a way to curl just underneath her jaw. In that moment he could almost forget that she had a staggering number of children. That she had a strong faith in a God who had abandoned him. He could almost forget that she was good and pure and she seemed to think he was wonderful for some unknown reason. He could forget that he needed to stay clear of her, for her sake as much as his own.

  Her gaze finally found him. “Oh, Jacob! Thank goodness! I’d thought you left!” She hurried toward him. She had her dress and apron clutched in one hand, her coat and shawl in the other. “I feel foolish,” she said when she reached him. Her mouth trembled.

  “You look...” Jake struggled to remember when, and if, he had ever been at such a loss for words before.

  Katya couldn’t meet his eyes. You look... Of course he wouldn’t finish. During all the short time she had known him, he had never been cruel or unkind.

  What was he supposed to say? You look ridiculous. You don’t belong here. Go home and cover yourself with plain cotton. Keep your eyes down. She began trembling harder.

  Why, oh, why had she allowed him to talk her into this? It wasn’t even just a waste of money! It was pure naiveté, absolute stupidity, to think that she could ever look anything like those women she’d seen on the street! She was about to bolt back to the dressing room, had even taken a single step in that direction, when he spoke again.

  “Uh, incredible,” Jake finished.

  She finally met his eyes. Her own went wide and wondering. “Incredible?” she repeated as though tasting the word.

  He did the only thing he c
ould think of to prove it. He caught her elbow and spun her suddenly into his arms. He leaned down and captured her mouth quickly while it was still widened in a little “Oh!” of surprise.

  “Incredible,” he repeated.

  He’d change the rules, he decided suddenly. It was the only option now, really. The old ones weren’t working. He couldn’t avoid her, couldn’t stay clear of her. Not that he had tried incredibly hard, but she just wouldn’t let him. She was there, warm and inviting, all the time. She was there every time he turned around. So he’d have to try a new avenue. He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

  “What?” she whispered, still dazed by his action. She could still feel his mouth on hers.

  He’d give her pleasure, he determined. For the short time he was here, he would make her world glow as best he could. He’d take that darting fear from her eyes. That uncertainty. That lack of faith in herself, so unwarranted. He’d give her touches that made her feel good. He’d give back anything he took from her, tenfold.

  Good enough, he thought. As rules went, these felt far more comfortable.

  “Jacob!” she protested against his mouth as he abruptly kissed her again. This time it was hard, fast, decisive. Then he backed off after touching his forehead to hers. “We’re in a store,” she gasped. “There are people!”

  He looked up, around, then grinned. “I guess you knocked the sense right out of my head, Katie.”

  Katie. Oh, my Lord, she thought. He had called her that before, too. And just like then, it made her feel as she had a lifetime ago before she had married Frank. It made her feel young and strong and good—maybe even pretty—with a million vistas open to her, unlimited possibilities for her life.

  Jake caught her hand. He took the bag the salesclerk had left on the counter and pushed the dress and the apron inside. “You’ll need your coat, but let’s lose this shawl thing,” he decided. He shoved that in, too. “Let’s go.”

  Katya let him drag her out of the store. She threw one frantic, apologetic look at the woman at the cash register. And what she saw on that woman’s face made her stumble. She envies me. It was in her eyes, in the set of her jaw. Me!

  Jake was nearly pulling her arm out of its socket. She hurried to keep up with him. She was sure, absolutely sure, that everyone in the entire store was staring at her bottom. She could feel their gazes as surely as if she were stark naked. She almost might as well be, she thought wildly. The jeans certainly didn’t hide the shape of her.

  She lost her breath for a moment as she made up her mind that she just wasn’t going to allow herself to care. Just today, just right now. No one would ever know.

  For all her years of hell, she decided that this one afternoon was hers. It would be her own special secret, her own wicked delight, to hold close to her heart for all the long, lonely rest of her life.

  They went to the post office first. While Jake collected a duffel bag from General Delivery and posted the package with the candy wrapper to Dallas, Katya hung back, watching him. Butterflies danced not only in her tummy, but in her limbs. They made her whole body feel light, ticklish, airy. She was torn between disbelief that this was happening to her and a dizzying happiness. Jake glanced back once to see if she was okay, and he smiled. Her heart did a funny flip-flop.

  She finally pulled her eyes off him for sanity’s sake. She studied every detail of the post office while she waited. The electric fluorescent lights over her head hurt her eyes, made them tear, when she looked straight up. The shiny floor even looked cold. Big, thick, plastic ropes hung from short metal posts. They seemed to tell people where to walk.

  And the people themselves! There was a woman in jeans much like hers, but she wore them tucked into black boots with very high heels. She wore a black leather jacket with a wonderful furry collar. There was a man in jeans with a bulky red plaid coat and a baseball cap. His teeth were yellow. There was a plump woman in stretchy pants even tighter than her jeans, struggling with two unruly children. Compared to her, Katya felt infinitely more modest.

  There were rows of pictures on the wall. The men in them looked evil.

  She jumped and gasped as Jake’s mouth grazed her neck. She hadn’t realized he’d finished. “Ready?” he murmured.

  “For what?” Yes, yes. I’m ready for anything. Just tell me what to do.

  “We’ll grab a bite to eat before we go back.”

  Katya wasn’t the least bit hungry, but he’d made the alternative clear. Before we go back. Not yet, she thought. Oh, please, not yet. “Yes,” she murmured. “Let’s eat.”

  Eating in a restaurant was against the ordnug, too. But she was already standing here in blue jeans that showed the world nearly everything she had been born with, and a sweater that let the cool air tickle her tummy once in a while. If the deacons ever caught wind of all this, she’d be shunned so completely she would never find her way back, not if she repented for years. Then again, if the deacons were in a restaurant in Lancaster to see her, then she thought they might have a few sins of their own to worry about. That was all the justification she needed.

  Jake was quiet as they went outside. There was a whole handful of other things he should do while he was here in civilization, he realized. He should call New Jersey and track down his buddy, the guy who had picked up Devon Mills the first time, last month. He should ask him to go have another talk with the dude. He should call someone he knew in Washington and get them to run what they knew of the settlement kidnapper through the VICAP computer. He knew the FBI would already have done that, but it did him no good. He needed to know himself if there were any similarities between this one and cases elsewhere in the country, and as a general rule, the Feds didn’t share.

  He should be doing all those things while he was here, and all he wanted was to touch her, taste her, hear her laugh again. It was suddenly an overriding urgency.

  “I noticed a place down on the corner,” he said. “That way.” He thrust his thumb in that direction. “Do you mind walking?”

  “Of course not.”

  “It might have been three blocks,” he allowed.

  “That’s fine.”

  “Four?”

  “I believe you’re the one who’s out of shape, Jacob.”

  “Me?” He almost stopped walking.

  “You couldn’t keep up with the raking this morning,” she observed mildly.

  “I didn’t...I wasn’t...” He let his words trail off, dumbfounded.

  She had, he thought. She had kept up easily. The muscles beneath those new jeans would not be just fluid, but strong. He forgot what he’d been about to say as he actually contemplated finding out.

  He glanced over at her. She was catching snowflakes on her tongue as she walked, and he had one of those near-paralyzing moments of bemusement again. He did not think he had ever walked the street with a woman who caught snowflakes on her tongue. He did not think he had ever known a woman so guileless, so innocent and vulnerable, in his life.

  She felt him looking at her and laughed self-consciously. “It’s something we used to do when we were girls. My sisters and I.”

  “Growing up is no fun,” he muttered absently.

  She smiled a little sadly. “Yes, I do think things go downhill after seventeen or so.”

  Or ten, or twelve, he thought. Sometimes even seven or eight.

  “Jacob?”

  “Huh?” He stopped in his tracks.

  “Is this the place you meant?”

  “Stay here. Let me check.”

  Her brows went up. “You can’t remember from the outside?”

  What he wasn’t sure of was whether or not the establishment would suit her. It looked cute, with a green-and-white canopy over the corner-facing door, but he didn’t know the neighborhood. He stuck his head inside. It was perfect.

  “Come on,” he said, glancing back, holding a hand out to her. She scooted to him. As they stepped inside, he thought she was holding her breath.

  Katya was. In that mome
nt, she felt seventeen again, waiting with her eyes closed, ready to pop them open and see a wonderful surprise. And that was what she got. She had never been inside a restaurant before in her life. She had not read about them in novels, so she had no clue what to expect.

  It was very dark. The golden light glowing from wall sconces was low, murky, intimate. It looked like candlelight, and she was comfortable with it.

  “Oh,” she breathed.

  There was music, slow and sultry. It seemed to be coming from a large box not far from where they stood. In contrast to the room, the object was alive with light—red, pink and green tubes of it, blinking off and on, off and on.

  It was only one room, a big one, she realized as her eyes adjusted. There were round tables scattered all over one side. There was a counter with high stools on the other. As she stood there, rooted, taking it all in, someone bumped into her from the side.

  “Oh, excuse me!” She skittered out of the way to let a man and a woman pass to the door. The woman wore the shortest skirt she had ever seen in her life. Like the woman in the stretchy pants at the post office, this one made Katya feel almost decently dressed. “Oh,” she whispered again.

  Jake laughed.

  It was a warm, rich sound that lifted her skin into gooseflesh. She looked at him quickly to see if he was mocking her. He didn’t seem to be. He was leaning back against the lighted box, one arm resting atop it, watching her. He looked happy.

  “Like it?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes. What do we do first?”

  Jake pushed himself off the jukebox. “We go over to one of those tables.”

  She began moving toward the tables without him. He hurried to catch up, swinging her into his arms. Her heart started hammering at the simple closeness. “You said go to a table.”