“Hey, sisters!” the girl shouted just as she reached the buggy that Suzanna now had stopped. The sweetish sweat smell of the horse mixed with the wet leather drifted back to me as I got a good look at the girl for about a second before she leaped up beside Miranda, wedging me even more tightly between the two girls.
Still smiling brightly, the girl leaned out around Miranda, her shoulder-length strawberry-blond locks brushing Miranda’s dress as she held her hand out to me.
“Howdy. I’m Summer Sage.”
I was startled by the sudden encounter, but I took a breath and regained my composure.
“Hi, I...”
Before I got anything out, Summer interrupted, “Oh, I already know who youuu are—the famous Rose Cameron. The English girl who stole an Amish boy’s heart and threw away her cushy existence in the modern world—no offense girls—to become Ahhmish,” Summer squealed, her theatrics rising through the proclamation.
“Summer, you should tone it down a bit, girl, or you’re going to scare Rose out of the buggy,” Miranda said. She immediately ducked when Summer tossed her backpack into the wagon behind the seat.
Suzanna snapped the reins, and we all went back against the seat roughly.
“Nah, we don’t have to worry about Miss Rose. I can tell already that she has spunk.”
Summer leaned forward again to wink at me.
I wasn’t exactly sure where to go with the comment, so instead, I went with the first thing that had popped into my head upon meeting the other musketeer. “Summer Sage is a really cool name.”
It was too dark to tell exactly what color Summer’s eyes were, but they were light and I imagined them to be the shade of spring grass. Those eyes beamed back at me from the compliment.
“Well, thank you, Rose. It’s about the only good thing I ever got from my mamma.”
Suzanna barked out a laugh, but I picked up on some deep feelings underneath the carefree comment.
“Guess you don’t get along too well with your mom, huh?” I asked, conscious of the warmth from the girls’ sides and the coolness of the air. The sound of Wynn’s hooves smacking the pavement made me nearly have to shout to be heard.
“We get on just fine, long as we don’t see each other much, which is fine as frog hair by me,” Summer said, still leaning forward and outright staring at me.
Did she just say something about frog’s hair? What planet did this girl come from?
“You’re mom isn’t nearly bad as mine, Sum,” Miranda cooed, just loud enough to barely be heard.
“Yeah, you’re right about that. Yours is one mamma I wouldn’t trade for.”
Summer didn’t say it in a mean way, just a totally honest agreeing sort of way. I glanced at Miranda’s face for a sign of anger, but there was none. The mousy Amish girl set her mouth firmly and nodded a few times.
“Hey, now, we’re supposed to be having a fun girl’s night out. No spoiling it talking about rotten parents,” Suzanna ordered just as she turned into her own driveway, way too fast to be safe, but definitely thrillingly. The buggy seemed to tilt on the two left wheels for a few seconds, then right itself. I held on to Suzanna and closed my eyes until it was over.
Wynn slowed to a perky walk, none too bothered by her exertion. The girls were all talking, laughing and joking the entire way up the driveway and into the barnyard. I didn’t even need to say a thing, which was perfect, because it gave me a chance to observe the dynamics of the group.
Suzanna was definitely the ringleader, but neither Miranda nor Summer were pushovers. They both seemed to appreciate Suzanna’s keen mind and contagious sense of humor.
When Wynn snorted a mass of greenish spray into Summer’s face as the girl held the mare in place to be unhitched, Suzanna fell to the ground on her knees laughing. The sound of her shrill yapping was even funnier than the sight of Summer pulling her shirt up to her bra to wipe away the goo.
“You...better...put your...sassy...shirt down, Summer Sage, ’fore you set one of my little brothers on...fire.” Suzanna laughed the words out. Even Miranda giggled, but I noticed she was also looking around.
“Why, you hussy, Suzanna, training your stupid horse to do that to me evvvery single time,” Summer said.
Quickly, Suzanna was up and unsnapping the breeching. I moved over closer to watch her fingers work.
“Yep, you know I’m the best horse trainer in the world if I can do that,” Suzanna teased.
Two little boys, maybe eight and ten, appeared out of nowhere. They shouted out a few sentences in German, laughing and pointing at Summer, who stuck her tongue out at them, before they rolled the buggy away from the horse. They backed it under the nearest shed and then disappeared again. I could hear girlish squeals coming from near the house, and looking in that direction I spotted a flurry of dresses. I couldn’t remember for sure, but I thought Suzanna had said she was right in the middle of eleven siblings.
“Don’t you just hate it when they do that?” Summer was suddenly beside me, and I hadn’t even noticed her getting there.
“What?” I asked, feeling a bit stupid not knowing what she was talking about.
“You don’t speak it yet, do you?” Summer asked holding my eyes captive.
Realization dawned, “Oh, no, no. I can’t understand any of it.” I felt as if I’d just discovered my new best friend.
“And yet, there they go, always speaking their secret language around us—and here we are in the middle of cow-paddy America,” Summer joked, but I wondered if she really meant it deep down.
I know I had thought about it on more than one occasion. It kind of made you feel as if you were being talked about or something—made a person paranoid.
“Ha, and you’re always bragging on honor roll grades and about going off to some fancy college someday. I reckon we’re the smarter ones, since we speak two languages,” Suzanna said as I helped her carry the slimy-with-sweat harness into the tack room.
I was thinking that if the conversation didn’t change quickly, our fun girls’ night was going to turn into a brawl. Before I had much time to worry about it, the lack of lighting in the pitch-dark barn caused me to bump my head solidly into a saddle rack.
“Owww!”
“I won’t even mention the no-electricity thing, since I’m an honored guest,” Summer hooted, walking into the darkness to check out my cry, only for the two of us to bump boob to boob into each other.
“Don’t even go there, Summer Sage, or I’ll be running you down the road. Are you hurt, Rose?” Suzanna said, feeling for my hand until she found it. She pulled me out into the little bit of moonlight. Pushing on the throbbing bump on my head for a minute, she gave me a clean bill of health and then proceeded to herd me and the others away from the white farmhouse and toward a small square building at the bottom of the hill.
The grass was already damp, and we squished along at a near run until we reached the four-foot landing of a porch, my head only throbbing slightly with the jarring motion. Suzanna threw open the door and fumbled around for a minute until she struck a match and lit the light above the round dining room table.
Summer immediately went to the fridge, showing no shyness at all when she pulled out four cans of pop and handed them out. You’d think she owned the place. Miranda sat down tiredly, and I wondered at her lack of energy while I surveyed the neat little guesthouse. There was a mushy gray sofa and a matching chair on one side of the room and a refrigerator, sink and counter on the other. The table was in the middle, and I guessed that the one door led to a bedroom and the other one to a bathroom. With the stark white walls, the place looked as if it was a glorified hotel room.
“Are we staying in here tonight?” I asked, feeling my excitement mounting.
“Sure are.” Suzanna spread out her arms dramatically. “Welcome to my home away from home.” Rolling her eyes around the small space, she added, “Or better yet, my freedom pad.”
“Seriously, this is your place?”
“Suz
anna, you better be honest now, or I’ll be telling on you,” Miranda said fiercely.
“Shucks, Mira. I can dream, can’t I?” Suzanna said, dropping into the chair and popping the tab of her pop at the same time.
“You see, Rose, Suzanna only gets to use the guesthouse when we come over for the night,” Summer said as she turned to Suzanna, cocking an eyebrow high. “Didn’t you say something about not wanting your brothers turning into raging volcanoes...or something like that?”
Summer giggled and took a swig of her drink.
I opened my can and savored the taste of the sweet, dark caffeinated drink. Thank God for carbonation.
“Yeah, you know it, girl. My mother doesn’t want you in the house with your tight jeans and skimpy shirts making my brothers all horny like toads,” Suzanna said in a joking but more serious tone than before.
“Hey, I don’t wear skimpy shirts.” Summer turned to me. “Do you think this shirt is skimpy, Rose?”
Examining the snug, elbow-length red-and-white baseball-type shirt, I honestly could say, no. As a matter of fact, it was a shirt that I’d wear.
“I have to agree with Summer about the shirt, Suzanna. Sorry.”
“Course you would. You English girls are going to stick together—then we won’t be able to gang up on Miss Summer Sage no more,” Suzanna said with a smile.
“Don’t listen to her, Rose—we never gang up on Summer,” Miranda said as she got up and began looking through the cupboards.
“Do you have any food in here, Suzanna, or are we expected to eat mothballs?” Miranda asked.
“What do you think this is—a fancy hotel?” Suzanna bounced up, heading for the door. “But I’ll go gather up some chow for us, anyways. I’m hungry, too.”
Miranda followed Suzanna, but when Summer began to leave her chair, Suzanna noticed and quickly held out her hand. “No, not you, Summer. You stay here with Rose so she’s not alone. We don’t want my mother getting in a tizzy before midnight.” Suzanna laughed, but her eyes were determined and she closed the door swiftly.
“Well, doesn’t that just suck?” Summer took a swig of her drink and then crossed her arms over her belly as she leaned back. She was a pretty girl, no denying it, but her beauty seemed to be enhanced by her vibrant personality, making her a true beauty.
“How long have you been hanging around with Suzanna and Miranda?” I asked.
“I’ve known them since we were little kids. My mamma drives the Amish sometimes. When I was younger, she’d take me into town with her when she made runs.”
With Suzanna and Miranda gone, the little house was quieter, but still Summer leaned forward and whispered, “How do you like living like them?”
Could I trust Summer Sage?
My instinct told me, yes, and I decided to go with it. For days I’d felt as if I’d been acting out a never-ending play. I didn’t feel Amish. Ella was right—I was a fraud. The only thing that kept me from feeling like a total whack job was Noah. He was my one true link to the Amish world. Maybe having Summer as a friend would help, since she was accepted into the community to some extent without actually being Amish. She would understand things better than my father or brothers would—and she wouldn’t be against me being Amish, like they were. With her help, I might be able to make my new life work.
Suzanna and Miranda gave me hope, too. They were more like the girls I used to hang around with back home. As much as I liked Sarah and Katie, it would be near impossible for me to live up to their standards. I felt as if I couldn’t let my guard down when I was with them. I worried that I’d say or do something that would give me away—and they’d know that I wasn’t the obedient, sweet-natured girl they hoped I was.
“It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be—and weirder, too,” I admitted.
“I got to give you credit. I know how those caps pinch your skull and how itchy the dresses are. The girls dressed me up for fun a couple of times—and one time I even wore the getup to a school dinner in disguise. Most of the kids figured out fairly quickly who I was, but a lot of the adults never even suspected.”
She looked off into space, clearly enjoying the memory.
“But what you’re doing is way different. Are you mental or what?” Summer said. Her eyes were suddenly glued on me.
“No, I’m perfectly sane. I’m just...well I’m, ah...”
“In love,” Summer drawled out the words with a twinkle in her eyes.
“What exactly have you heard?” I demanded, responding to her mocking tone.
She shook her head sadly, looking at me as if I was about to undergo a head transplant.
“Do you really believe that it’s going to last?”
“Course I do, or I wouldn’t be here in the first place.” I felt obligated to say more. “Noah and I are soul mates. I couldn’t live without him.” I looked her in the eye, daring her to say something snide. But surprisingly she nodded her head in understanding and leaned back.
“It’s going to be rough, though. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do. But you hang out with them all the time and do fine.”
Summer laughed. “I spend a lot of time with Suzanna and Mira, but none of the other Amish pay me any mind at all. Then, whenever I get tired of evenings without radios or DVD players, I just go home.” She looked at me with sympathy. “But you won’t ever get to escape.”
“When you put it that way, it makes me want to jump off a bridge.” I sighed in a kidding way, but deep down, her words chilled me.
“Hang in there, Rosie, you’ll be okay.” She glanced at the door, and when she turned back she said conspiratorially, “If you ever need a jailbreak, you call me. I’ll take care of you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her. I liked Summer Sage, and I believed that she would help me out in a jam. I was almost disappointed when Suzanna and Miranda came through the door.
Within minutes all the white caps were off and we were happily munching pecan pie and homemade ice cream. Definitely a step up from the Doritos and pretzels I was used to snacking on with my English friends.
Running a brush though Suzanna’s whitish-blond hair, I was amazed at how long it was—and Miranda’s Rapunzel locks went past her butt.
“So you’ve never cut your hair?” I asked Suzanna as I finished styling the waves that hung down her shoulder to make her look as if she were a fashion model.
“Nope, never,” she said proudly.
“So what are we doing tonight, girls?” Summer asked from her comfy stretched-out position on the couch.
“It must be after midnight, right?” I said, looking at Summer who was the only one of us with the time. She checked her phone and confirmed my guess.
“Yeah, ten minutes past to be exact,” Summer said.
Suzanna crawled around me over to Miranda, scooting up beside her on the couch and hugging her from behind. “You ready for an adventure, Mira?”
That feeling of apprehension teased me, but this time I pushed it away quickly. “What do you have in mind?” I asked, the words leaving me slowly.
“I was thinking we could go for a midnight stroll through the woods. What do you think, Summer?”
“Sounds wonderful,” Summer said, springing from the chair in a fluid motion. “Let’s get out of here.”
She was at the door in a heartbeat. We were close behind, but when we crossed the threshold, I squeaked, “Wait. Aren’t we going to put our caps back on?”
The feel of my hair loose and free on my shoulders was amazing, but what if someone saw us?
Suzanna smirked. “Don’t worry, Rose. If we get caught, our hair will be the least of our problems.” She said it in a way that made the hair on my neck stand up.
She wasn’t kidding for a change.
Seeing her bare feet, I asked, “What about shoes?”
“Don’t need them,” Suzanna stated with no room for argument.
“No way—I can’t run around in the woods without shoes,” I dec
lared, going back in and slipping mine on. When I stepped into the pale moonlight I noticed that Summer already had hers on, and once again, I felt a connection to the girl.
“Smart move, Rose—if we have to run, it’s better to be prepared,” Summer said, patting my back.
“I bet I can outrun you barefoot any day,” Suzanna boasted.
“Hopefully, we don’t have to test your theory,” Summer said, darting out in front us and leading the way down the side of the mowed lawn and into the cover of the trees. I glanced back once at the house to see it dark and quiet. Would Suzanna’s parents come out to the guesthouse to check on us in the middle of the night? Remembering all the little kids and the busy church day, I doubted it. Her folks were probably sleeping so soundly nothing short of an explosion would wake them.
I mentally kept my fingers crossed, though, as I followed the three girls ahead of me deeper into the woods. There was a path of sorts that we were following, but it was one of those that was seldom used and would not be noticed by anyone. Under the cover of the trees the air was cool, and the smell of decaying leaves laced with the green foliage of the live ones flooded my senses.
Since I was at the end of the line, the trail was more trampled for me than the other girls, but I still had to dodge low branches and hop over fallen ones. It was all quiet except for Miranda’s heavy breathing ahead of me and the occasional explicit outburst from Summer or Suzanna when they got wacked by a branch or tripped over a root.
I felt giddy with the feeling of freedom. I was away from the judgmental eyes of the Amish. I could be myself for a change and literally let my hair down. I was in no way completely at ease, knowing that if we were caught, Suzanna and Miranda would probably be punished, but I would be kicked out of the community. I could just imagine Bishop Lambright’s “I told you so” speech before he happily sent me packing. And then there was Noah—what would he think about me running through the woods in the middle of the night like a wild druid priestess?
I didn’t think the girls would say anything to him, but just in case, I decided that I’d have a talk with them before morning. There was no reason to get Noah all worked up, I convinced myself, just as we left the sort-of-trail to head straight down a hill.
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