by Sarah Price
“Beautiful, sí,” he said, his voice low and his eyes still holding hers.
She looked away.
“How is your leg today?” he asked, changing the subject as he sat down on the porch stairs.
“It was hard to sleep last night,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t hurt so much anymore. How long did the doctor say until the cast comes off?”
Alejandro glanced at the fields. The corn was growing, lifting its soft green blanket toward the sun. He wondered when it would be ready to be harvested. Surely Elias would need Amanda’s help. “Four more weeks,” he responded. “It wasn’t a bad break. We were lucky.”
“We?”
He looked at her. “You,” he corrected. “You were lucky.”
“I was lucky,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
Raising one eyebrow, he tilted his head as he stared at her. Her eyes broke free from his gaze, and she looked at the cows wandering through the fields. Her skin was a golden brown, flawless in complexion and tone. With high cheekbones and a full mouth, she was truly a natural beauty. “I was lucky, too,” he said, his voice husky and low. She turned to look at him, a question in her expression. “It brought me here, no?”
“But you will leave for more exciting adventures,” she said matter-of-factly. “For you, that’s what this is, Alejandro. An adventure. For us, it’s our way of life.”
He took a deep breath and nodded. “Sí, sí,” he admitted. “But I’m glad to have this . . . adventure, as you call it.”
She bit her lower lip, assessing him for a moment as if to gauge whether he was serious or just mocking her. “I wonder if I’d feel the same about experiencing your way of life.”
At this, he laughed. He couldn’t imagine Amanda on the road, living the life of a pop star. “If I were a betting man, I’d say that that would be highly unlikely.”
“Why?” she demanded, an unexpected edge to her voice.
“Ay, Princesa. My life is everything that you are not.”
“Really?” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Really!” he teased back. Sobering, he watched her reaction. When she didn’t look away, he realized that she was waiting for him to go on. He sighed and rubbed his temples. “It’s a hard life, Princesa. Constantly traveling. Constantly living out of a suitcase. Constantly wondering who to trust. The days and nights are switched. There are concerts and crowds and photographers everywhere. There is no such thing as privacy. You sell a piece of your soul when you become famous.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say!” she gasped.
But it’s true, he thought. “The public owns you, Princesa. They love you. They hate you. They want to be you. They want to destroy you.”
She stared at him, the color draining from her face. “Then why? Why do it?”
He shrugged. “It’s the price you pay to do what you love to do.”
“What’s to love about it?” she demanded.
He smiled wistfully. “There is good, too. Music is the universal language. It changes lives. I love traveling, meeting new people. Before concerts, there are VIPs to meet. After concerts, there are parties to attend.”
“VIPs? Parties?”
He shut his eyes for a minute, visualizing the large rooms with a bar in one corner and a DJ in another. Usually tall cocktail tables covered with white linens surrounded the perimeter of the room, the center space reserved for a dance floor. Meandering through the crowds, well-dressed servers wearing white gloves carried a never-ending stream of food to offer the guests. Oh, the food! Appetizers of shrimp and lobster and caviar. And the alcohol: champagne, vodka, cocktails, and wine. Alejandro usually didn’t partake, sipping on his bottled water while the people clamored around, eager for a few minutes of his attention before the show was scheduled to begin. He had always vowed that he wasn’t going to become one of those singers who partied before shows and delivered less than 100 percent onstage.
“VIPs: very important people. Sometimes, for political reasons, I have to meet with certain people such as mayors, congressmen, businessmen, promoters. Other times, people pay a lot of money to spend a few minutes with me.”
This time, she laughed. “People pay money to meet you?” It sounded ridiculous when she said it or, rather, the way she said it.
He smiled at her innocence. “Sí, just to meet me. To shake my hand and have a photo taken with me.” He paused, wondering how far to push the subject. Without giving it too much thought, he plunged ahead. “There are even women who cajole their way backstage to meet me.”
The tone of his voice seemed to sober Amanda, and she stopped laughing. Clearly, she understood something was amiss with that last statement. “Women? Why?”
He cleared his throat. “Most of the time, Amanda, they want to spend the night with me.”
The fact that he said it so casually must have startled her. She blinked for a few seconds as if trying to understand what he’d said. When she finally made sense of his words, the color drained from her face and her back stiffened. He had thought that the truth would get her attention. There were extreme differences between their lifestyles, and he needed to ensure that she understood that. No, he told himself. We both needed to understand that.
“That’s disgusting,” she said, breaking the silence.
Again, he shrugged. “I suppose.”
His casual response stopped her, and she stared at him for a long moment. She was thinking and replaying what he had just told her. He knew what was coming and quickly tried to decide on his response.
“And do you?”
Bingo, he thought. He was as good as a mind reader. “Sí,” he admitted. “Sometimes.” Now she would know who he truly was, he thought. What his life was truly like. And she would no longer be so curious.
“Why?”
That one word took him by surprise. Why, she had asked. He wished that he knew the answer. He wanted to tell her that it was because he was lonely or because he was a man with needs. He wanted to tell her that he was attracted to those women. But that wasn’t the truth. What was the truth?
“Because I can,” he finally admitted.
She took a quick, short breath. For a moment, she looked away, avoiding his eyes, but he could tell that his words resonated in her head. Because I can. The meaning behind those three simple words left her visibly stunned, and he knew that she didn’t want to imagine him being the type of person who lived that type of life. But when she finally did, she would know the extent of their cultural differences.
She lifted her chin and moved her eyes back to meet his gaze. “Would you sleep with me, if I were one of those women backstage?”
This time, it was his turn to be stunned. His mouth dropped open for a moment. Had she really just asked him that question? His thoughts of being a mind reader and sensing the predictability of people were shattered. He hadn’t seen that question coming at all. “I . . .” he started but stopped. He wasn’t certain how to respond to that. After all, he hadn’t thought of her in that way. And he certainly hadn’t expected her to even think in those terms. Let alone mention them! Yet she was staring at him expectantly, waiting for his answer. “I’m not answering that.”
“Would you or wouldn’t you, Alejandro?” she asked flatly, demanding an answer.
He rubbed at his upper lip and glanced away from her. He tried to imagine her backstage, tried to imagine her dressed like those women with short skirts and high stilettos. He couldn’t envision her with long, flowing hair and makeup. It was just not something he could see. But she was still silent, her eyes on his face.
“No,” he finally said.
“No?” She seemed disappointed.
“No.”
“Why not?”
He rubbed his hand over his face. “¡Ay, mi madre, Princesa! What are you doing to me?”
Sh
e frowned and appeared determined to elicit an answer from him. “I want to know why not. That’s a fair question.”
“No,” he said sharply. “It’s really not a fair question.”
She remained silent, waiting for his response, her eyes narrow and piercing as she stared at him.
“Because I respect you!” he snapped.
He regretted the words the moment he said them. It sounded awful. He knew that. It was the truth. He knew that, too. And now it was out there, and he suddenly wished that Elias or Lizzie would emerge to interrupt their conversation. He had no idea where this was going and felt beyond awkward, sitting with this young Amish woman and discussing sex.
“I see,” she said softly, her lips pressed tightly together in disapproval. Folding her hands on her lap, she took a deep breath. “So you spend the night with women you don’t respect but won’t spend the night with women who you do respect!” Put that way, it sounded as bad as he felt. Lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, she said, “I’m glad that I’m one of those women who you wouldn’t spend the night with. I’d hate to be treated so casually, like a discarded horseshoe! But I will tell you this, Alejandro Diaz. You should respect all women. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so lonely on the road and spending your nights with strange women who you don’t love.”
He shook his head. “Ay, Princesa,” he mumbled.
“Maybe you could learn that from this . . . adventure, Alejandro,” she said sharply.
“I think this conversation is finished,” he said, standing up quickly, his knees creaking from having knelt for so long. He was sore from all of the work that he had done this morning. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so irritated, and even worse, he wasn’t certain if he was annoyed with her or with himself. Maybe, he wondered, she was right and that was what upset him. He was lonely, and he was tired of false friends and faceless lovers. He glanced at the fields one last time. “Do you need help with your laundry?”
He could tell that she was still upset about their conversation by the way she looked at him. He couldn’t read her expression. Was she angry or disappointed? Either way, it was good for her to recognize how different they were. Him, too. Despite the fact that he was too aware of her natural beauty and intelligent wit, the truth was that he was leaving in a few days and his life on the road was the polar opposite to hers on an Amish farm. She needed to be reminded of that.
“Nee,” she said and looked away.
“Amanda,” he said quietly, waiting until she dragged her eyes back to stare at him. Her dark eyes seemed to bore into his soul, and he knew. She wasn’t angry or disappointed. Instead, she was hurt. “You wouldn’t like my world.”
“Mayhaps not,” she admitted. “Viper’s world sounds most horrible, a world without love and respect. And it doesn’t sound like the world for Alejandro, not the Alejandro that I know. But it doesn’t seem like I need to worry about experiencing that world. It’s not something that will happen, is it?” She bent her head down as she focused on folding the clothing as well as ignoring him.
There was nothing more he could say to her. She needed time to reflect on what he had shared with her and to realize that he was right. He sighed and turned around to walk away, realizing that he wasn’t all too sure if he liked his own world, his planet, especially after he had seen it through her eyes.
Chapter Nine
Amanda leaned on the crutches as she stood at the edge of the garden. It needed weeding, that was for sure and certain. The sun was just over the treetops, the sky changing into a deep, rich blue that was almost matching the color of her dress. Carefully, she used the crutches for support, holding them halfway as she sat down on the ground, the cast sticking out from under her dress. She didn’t care if anyone got angry with her. She was tired of sitting around the house. She wanted to help around the farm and, if nothing else, an hour of weeding would make her feel better.
The garden was coming along nicely. It seemed as if she had only planted it the other week, but she knew it was actually almost six weeks ago when she and Daed had plowed through the ground, fertilized it with some composted manure, and planted the rows of tomatoes, beans, beets, corn, and peppers. At the far end of the garden, she had even planted some watermelons and pumpkins. Her daed must have staked the tomatoes and beans while she was away in Ohio, for which she was grateful. Already, there were small green tomatoes just hinting at the possibility of turning red. Within a few weeks, they would have juicy red beefsteak tomatoes for dinner, that was for sure and certain. And soon after that, they would be canning tomato sauce for the winter months.
But, for today, it was the weeds that needed tending.
When she had been younger, she had asked her mamm why God created weeds. It had seemed like it was already an awful lot of work to maintain a garden that was free from pesky weeds trying to strangle the good plants that would provide the family with vegetables to eat. Her mamm had smiled at her and explained, “It’s God’s way of making certain we appreciate what we have. The harder we have to work for something, the better it often is. This is the same with us people, Dochder. We have to weed our hearts and minds from ugly and ungodly thoughts in order to be welcomed in his garden, ain’t so?”
It had been a good lesson to learn, Amanda realized, especially at such a young age. Life on a farm was fraught with hard work that reaped greater rewards. She had learned that early in life and had come to appreciate her mamm’s wisdom. It was the things in life that required hard work that meant the most to her. Ever since then, Amanda loved working in the garden. The feel of the dirt on her fingers, the smell of fresh growing vegetables, the sound of the quietness surrounding her . . . all of it made her happy.
Today, however, she was weeding more than the garden. It was the weeds in her mind that needed removing. She needed to be outside, close to nature and close to God. She knew that she was in great danger and the more she fought it, the closer it came.
She couldn’t help herself. It was her fondness for Alejandro that was growing in her head and in her heart. A weed, she told herself, although her heart told her otherwise. She had never spent so much time with a young man. And from what she knew of the Amish men and the courting ritual, she might not know her own husband half as well as she already knew Alejandro.
With an Amish courting couple, it would be a buggy ride here, a walk there, maybe a dinner with the parents later in the courtship. No hugs, no hand-holding. Just companionship. Suddenly, that little bit of knowledge about the other person would lead to a marriage, a marriage that would span a lifetime filled with years to get to know each other.
No, Amanda couldn’t deny her attraction to Alejandro. He was movie-star handsome, and his accent was charming. He had a sense of humor and was more than caring. Yet, she also sensed a darker side to him, the Viper side that was everything Alejandro was not. It was almost as though he was battling himself, suppressing the one side while fighting the other. She could tell that it didn’t make him happy. How could it? Such inner conflict was certainly what had led him to stay at the farm for the week.
And, of course, he was an Englischer. Despite her attraction to him, she was smart enough to know that nothing could ever come of it. He was the epitome of worldliness, while she was the image of being plain. Those two worlds could never coexist.
As she pulled some of the weeds, her heart felt heavy. Even though he had confided in her about the ugliness in his world, she couldn’t fight the attraction, the desire to help him be happy. He deserved it, she told herself. Under the Viper exterior, he was still Alejandro. Gentle, sweet, caring Alejandro.
By the time that she had cleared the outer row of the garden of its weeds, the sun was almost at its peak in the sky. It was warmer out, and she was sweating under the sun’s heat. Looking back over what she had weeded, she felt disappointed. It had taken her a long time to clear that row, for she could only reach into the garden about eightee
n inches. But there was still a lot more that needed to be cleared.
“There you are, Princesa,” Alejandro called out as he walked around the side of the barn. He laughed as he approached her. “What on earth are you doing?”
At the sound of his voice, she looked up. “Weeding,” she said simply. For a moment, she frowned. She could never understand why he always wore his sunglasses. They hid his eyes, and then she couldn’t tell what he was truly thinking. Since their discussion the previous day, she had felt awkward around him, pleased that he respected her but confused about his other confession. “Why are you laughing?”
Casually, he squatted down beside her and knocked gently at her cast. When he looked at her, the sun reflected off the dark lenses, making his face seem ever more jovial and bright. Clearly, he had moved on from that discussion and was feeling at ease with her. That confused her, too. “You look silly with your leg jutting out so,” he teased.
“I look silly?” she asked, color flooding to her cheeks. For a quick second, she saw herself reflected in his lenses. She did look silly with her blue dress and misshaped leg. Her hair was messy, stray wisps stuck against her sweaty skin on the back of her neck. She wasn’t wearing her prayer kapp, just a thin scarf to cover her head. She was so common, so plain. It was no wonder that he was laughing at her. And now, she was blushing. She could feel the heat on her skin and tried to stand up. But it was almost impossible without the crutches, and they were tossed on the ground at the other end of the garden.
Alejandro jumped to his feet as he tried to steady her. As his hands touched her arms, she pulled backward and before she knew it, she toppled over and he fell to the ground beside her. Quickly, she sat up and pulled at the bottom of her dress to make certain her legs weren’t too exposed as Alejandro got to his knees. He started laughing again, the sound ringing in the wind.
Running his fingers through his hair, he shook his head. “Oh, Princesa,” he murmured, a smile still on his face. He reached out to touch her arm again, and this time she didn’t struggle. Instead, she let him help her to stand. Catching her balance, she fell against him, and instinctively he wrapped his arm around her waist to make certain she didn’t fall again. “You are something else.” He paused. “Dulce,” he whispered into her ear.