Temptation

Dad was impatient to be on our way to the neighbors’, and even though I was willing to trek back across the water myself, he wouldn’t allow it. He had insisted I just go take a shower and put on whatever I had in the bag.

Men could be so brainless about stuff like that. I wanted to make a good impression. After all, we were going to have dinner at a place where the women all wore dresses, and here I was in my sleep shirt and faded jeans, wearing flip-flops. The day held a strange hazy quality that made me feel as if I were dreaming. The fact that I’d walked through a hay field to have dinner at our new neighbors’ house certainly added to the surreal feeling for me.

In slight consolation, at least I had been able to take a shower and wash the mud out of my hair. The bathtub had been gross, with the remains of a lot of dried-up bugs in it, and I’d taken a few minutes to wash them all down the drain before I could even get started. But amazingly, the water pressure was strong and the temperature was almost scalding hot—just the way I liked it.

Taking a breath, I paused to watch a gray-furred rabbit zigzag in front of us, finally disappearing into a clump of thick grass. I wished that I had as much energy as the little creature, admitting that I was a little winded from the trek across the thirty-acre field that separated our houses to reach the creek running behind the Millers’ barns.

Following the creek toward the bridge, I watched as the water flowed swiftly over smooth stones that jutted out here and there. It all looked calm and quaint now, but I could see where the rushing water had overflowed, flattening the grass on both sides well up the banks from the storm.

Once across the bridge, I focused my attention on the farm around us. It was absolutely immaculate. Everything about it was orderly and tidy. The grass was mowed to perfection, and there were several large flower beds overflowing with brightly colored petunias, gardenias and begonias. Dainty butterflies danced above the blooms in hectic motion. The huge vegetable garden we passed contained every kind of plant imaginable, the rows straight and freshly tilled. Not a weed in sight either. To our left was a massive barn and beside it was a large three-sided equipment shed. Both buildings were covered in bright white siding, with black roofs and trim, matching the house.

Four-board white vinyl fencing surrounded the pasture and barnyard, and I shielded my eyes from the lowering sun to search out the horses in the lush field. I quickly counted nine: a couple of huge Belgians, four buggy-type horses and three cute pinto ponies. My senses were on overload, trying to take everything in, when three little boys ran out of the barn toward us.

I gauged the age of the oldest boy to be eleven or twelve and the two smaller ones six and eight. They were so adorable in their light blue short-sleeved dress shirts and black suspenders. All three had thick, dark brown hair laced with golden highlights, just like Noah’s. I was guessing they were his little brothers.

Funny, how when I’d met Noah earlier, I didn’t even notice what he was wearing. I guess I was too focused on his striking face and steamy eyes. Would he look as good to me the second time I saw him? I was willing to bet he would. Just the thought that I found a guy that attractive was unnerving to me. I didn’t really like the mushy, strange feelings I was experiencing, nearly popping with arousal at the mere idea of seeing him again.

One of the little boys left the others, running to the two-story, neat-as-a-button farmhouse. The remaining two fell in walking with us, peeking up bashfully from time to time.

“Hello, boys. Beautiful evening, isn’t it?” Dad said to them.

“Yes, sir, it’s a fine evening,” the older boy answered.

So far the Amish I’d met sounded pretty normal. Just a hint of an accent, or maybe it was their vocabulary, very proper. Anyway, they weren’t too different after all. Well, besides the beards, dresses and no electricity. If these boys walking with us were wearing normal clothes, they’d look like any other kids.

But then I heard the littlest boy shouting in a language I had never heard before. I glanced over to Dad questioningly. He answered, “They speak a form of German.”

“It’s called Pennsylvania Dutch,” the younger boy corrected Dad. He seemed pleased with himself for being able to tell us something that we didn’t know. He sniffed, walking on a little straighter.

I had to smile at that. He looked like such a little man with his clothes and manner. When I looked back up, my heart bounced at seeing Noah approaching with his father. He was actually a little taller than his dad, and this time I did notice what he was wearing—the same blue dress shirt and black suspenders that the little boys had on.

Most guys wouldn’t be caught dead dressing exactly like their brothers, but hey, it seemed to be expected with these people. I also observed for the first time that the pants the boys were all wearing were extremely dark navy blue and homemade. They all had matching haircuts, too, with their hair left full on top and trimmed neatly at the ears and neck. I decided that these boys were good-looking enough to pull the hairdo off very well.

Noah’s eyes met mine, and the way he was gazing at me made me glance away quickly. It was almost as if we already had a thing going on. He sort of looked at me in a possessive way, making me blush. I definitely didn’t want him to see that. But maybe he liked me, too. At least that’s what his eyes were saying. I could only hope, I thought, not willing to acknowledge just yet that I actually had a crush on him.

While I was getting all hot and bothered by Noah’s eyes, a woman and two teenage girls came out of the house. They were all wearing blue dresses, in varying shades. The mother was in navy and the girls a lighter sky-blue. They also wore identical stiff white caps on their heads, with dangling narrow ribbons on each side, and black old-fashioned tennis shoes on their feet. What I could see of their hidden hair, the girls had lighter brown locks than the boys. I could tell nothing at all about their personalities from their outfits, and their faces were emotionless. Without having made a quick mental note about their slightly differing facial features and the freckles dotting the taller one’s nose, I would have been hard-pressed to tell the two sisters apart.

After inspecting them from head to toe, I decided that it must be extremely uncomfortable to dress like that all the time. Being a dancer, I was accustomed to having my hair in a tight bun, with a dozen bobby pins holding my wild mane in place—and I hated wearing my hair up on performance days. The bun always gave me a headache, and these poor girls had to endure that pain every day.

As I gazed at the women, noticing that they wore no makeup at all and that the clothes concealed their figures completely, I felt a strong sense of pity for them. It seemed they weren’t allowed any individuality at all.

It was then that I caught the tiny girl staring up at us. Her cap was jet-black and her dress a tiny replica of her mom’s. She was without a doubt the cutest child I’d ever seen. I gathered that she didn’t have many non-Amish people visit often by the way she was gawking at us with her mouth wide open.

There were so many kids. Surely they weren’t all Noah’s siblings. I counted eight, including Jacob, who was now coming up the driveway in an open buggy being pulled by a trotting, high-headed bay horse. Sitting next to him was a young Amish woman dressed in lavender. When they parked, I saw that she had a very pretty round face with a rosy complexion. She greeted me with a friendly smile.

My eyes were quickly drawn to the horse and buggy. How cool it would be to ride in one. That was the best part about being Amish, I imagined, riding around in the buggies. But I would definitely hate never being able to drive a car. I had my permit now and couldn’t wait to get my license. The very idea that none of these people would ever drive a car was mind-boggling to me.

Dad’s voice, thanking the Amish for the invitation to dinner, interrupted my thoughts, and then Mr. Miller proceeded to introduce his wife and all the kids. I tried to pay careful attention to each name, desperately attempting to quickly imprint to memory their faces and names. In the end, I knew I’d never be able to remember them all, especially when they looked so similar in dress and physical features. I couldn’t believe such a little woman gave birth to all those kids. Didn’t they use any birth control? I mean, who’d want to have that many children anyway?

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the gathering when the introductions were finished until one of the boys— Peter, I think, but I wouldn’t bet on it—offered to show us some puppies. It sounded like a great idea to me. A way to escape from the intense scrutiny I was beginning to feel.

I wanted Sam to come, too, and poked his arm. Thankfully, he turned and walked with me, following the boys, who had pulled away from us in their mad dash to the barn. He must have been feeling the heebie-jeebies also, or he probably wouldn’t have come.

In a whisper, Sam bent down to me and said, “That was awkward.”

Before I could answer, Noah fell in beside Sam. A quiet happiness spread through me and all because he was coming with us. How pitiful of me. Surely it was impossible to become love struck in a few hours? I had to control my facial expressions, I warned myself. I didn’t want him knowing.

Momentarily distracting my brain were the little puppy noises, whining and grunting, as we entered the open, airy hallway of the barn. The inside was as well kept as the outside, with a swept aisle and halters hung neatly on the pegs outside each black stall door. The smell of freshly baled alfalfa hit my senses immediately and I breathed the lush leafiness of it in deeply. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Noah look in my direction when I made the noise, with a quizzical look on his face.

“This is a great barn.” I dared to look right at him, and he smiled slightly.

“Thank you” was all he said, but he continued to watch me intently, with that same appraising manner he’d had when we first met in the foyer. I wondered what was going through his brain, when Justin called out to me.

“Rose, you’ve got to come here and see—there’s ten of ’em.” His voice was thrilled, and I reluctantly tore my gaze away from Noah to join Justin in the box stall.

I caught my breath, seeing that they were Australian shepherds. What a coincidence. I plopped down on the thickly straw-covered floor, picking one of the squirming little things up and holding her to my face. She was a blue merle, with a smoky-colored coat and sapphire eyes—a puppy-size twin of our Aussie, Misty. She had passed away from old age about the same time Mom had died of cancer, making the days surrounding Mom’s death even darker.

The dear little pup started to whine and wiggle, so I soothed her against my neck, smelling in the wonderful puppy smell.

“Do you think Dad will let us get one?” Justin asked me while petting two of the pups, a red one and a blue one, on his lap.

“Maybe… It’s been a while since Misty died, and he did say that we could get another dog eventually.” I looked over at Sam, who was sitting next to the mama dog, scratching her head.

“The only way he’s going to go for it is if you beg him, Rose, with that teary-eyed thing you do.” Sam quickly added, speaking to Noah, “Dad spoils her rotten. Anything she wants, she gets.”

Anger flaring in me, I countered, “That’s not true, Sam,” giving him a withering look.

“It is so true, Rose. That’s why you have to ask him!” Justin begged.

I rolled my eyes and sighed at the same time Noah sat down in the straw next to me. He picked up a puppy, distractedly rubbing its fur while he turned to me, saying, “So you have your father wrapped around your finger?”

I was glad he was talking to me, but I didn’t feel like defending my uncanny ability to get my dad to agree to almost anything. It really wasn’t any of his business, I decided, slightly bugged.

Shrugging my shoulders, I changed the subject. “What grade is Sarah in?” I asked him instead of answering his question.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the question I asked or the one I didn’t answer.

“Ah…she’s done with school.” He said it slowly, as if he was talking to a stupid child.

“Why? How old is she?” I had guessed she was my age, and I was kind of hoping that we could be friends. Maybe she was older than I thought.

“She’s sixteen,” Noah replied as he changed out the puppy he was petting for a different one.

I looked around at the other three boys and noticed that they were all staring at me, again in that scrutinizing way. It was definitely less intimidating coming from the cute little boys but still irritating.

Noah’s words about his sister’s age suddenly sunk in.

“How long do you go to school for?” I asked Noah somewhat harshly and regretted the edge to my voice when his eyes widened in surprise.

“Eighth grade,” he said simply, holding my gaze.

“Sweet—if I were Amish, I’d be done with school next year!” Justin exclaimed, like any normal thirteen-year-old boy would at the thought of being finished with school at that age.

Then Sam got into the conversation. “Don’t you guys ever go to college?” he asked in amazement.

“No.”

After waiting a few seconds, and realizing he wasn’t going to elaborate on his answer, I asked, “What does your sister do every day, then?”

This time, instead of Noah answering, Peter beat him to the punch, saying in a matter-of-fact way, “She does the laundry and cleans the house, of course.”

Sam and Justin, in unison, started rolling with laughter. I, on the other hand, with my feminist side rearing up in anger, said, “You’ve got to be kidding.” I glanced at Noah, the mild shoulder shrug and expression on his face confirming what Peter had said.

“What’s so funny?” the middle boy asked quizzically as he watched my brothers make fools of themselves while they laughed in the straw.

“Sam, Justin—stop it!” I ordered.

When they finally quieted, Justin looked at me sheepishly and said, “Gee, Rose, maybe you can come over here and get some laundry and cleaning lessons from their sisters. They can even teach you how to cook!”

Sam started laughing all over again, and the look I directed at Justin caused him to quickly press closer to the three boys who sat farther away from me. If those boys hadn’t been staring bug-eyed at me, I would have jumped on Justin, pulled his hair out and then killed him. For him to say something like that in front of Noah—I was too angry to say anything, fearing I’d probably cuss Justin out, and that was the last thing those boys needed to hear.

The only sounds were the puppy noises and Sam clearing his throat when he finally recovered from his hysterics. What he said next surprised me and made me suddenly love him. “Oh, Justin, Rose has done a good job taking care of us since Mom died.” Sam said it quietly. The mention of Mom made Justin lower his eyes and stare at the puppies in his lap.

“How long ago did your mom die?” Noah asked Sam in a surprised voice. He turned his head and was watching me when Sam answered him.

“I guess it’s been about nine…or ten months now,” Sam murmured thoughtfully, glancing in my direction. Actually, it had been exactly ten months and one week. I didn’t want to keep track of it, but somehow my mind would add on the days subconsciously.

“I’m sorry about that,” he told Sam, but his eyes seemed to change to a deeper brown, like chocolate, and they were looking into mine with compassion. The trance was broken by the sound of a loud ringing bell. The three boys jumped up, placing their puppies next to the mama’s nipples and hurrying out of the stalls. Peter lingered, pressing his face against the black bars on the stall—watching.

“Dinner bell,” Noah confirmed with amusement, twitching his lips. The boys’ actions worked perfectly to lighten the mood, and I reached over to put my puppy back with her mother.

Before I had a chance to stand, Noah was already up, offering his hand to me, which I immediately took. He was strong and pulled me up easily. There was an electric current flowing between us, and I didn’t want to let go, but I felt him start to release, so I followed suit. When we broke contact, the feeling vanished, to be replaced by a strange emptiness in me.

What was even stranger was when I caught the way Peter glanced from me back to Noah, with brown eyes wide with alarm. The look sent a prickling down the back of my neck, and abruptly I understood that my infatuation with Noah would probably not be welcomed by his family. Noah didn’t seem to notice his brother staring, and when Sam and Justin went through the doorway, I shot a quick smile of thanks up at him and followed them out.

Inwardly, my mind shook the tickling sensation of foreboding away as we made our way out of the barnyard. Before we even reached the steps to the house, the delicious fragrance of food was coming out the open windows, settling into the summertime air. Trying to be subtle, I sniffed in the wonderful smells and picked up my pace a bit, discovering how hungry I was. Noah jumped in front of me right as I reached the door, grabbing it before it swung shut in my face after Justin let it go.

“Thanks,” I said softly, dropping my eyes.

Noah shrugged and averted his eyes as if he was shy again. Or maybe he was just embarrassed by how rude my brother was.

I stopped a few feet inside the doorway, right next to Sam. Noah continued by us, walking over to stand beside Jacob. As I scanned the room, I first saw that the dining room and kitchen were combined into a gigantic space with an equally giant-size rectangular wooden table in the center of it. Okay, I’ve seen big tables before, but this one was ridiculous, with long benches on each side of it and chairs on the ends. It would have been the right scale for the giant’s castle in “Jack and the Beanstalk.”

The next thing I noticed was the long beige countertop running down one side of the room, flanked by a refrigerator and a stove on each side. There was a large ceramic sink in the center of the wall, with an open window directly above it. Momma could definitely serve a crowd in this kitchen.

Then I became aware of something really crazy, and I had to swiftly cross the room again with my eyes to verify what I was seeing. All the men and boys were on one side of the room and the women were on the other. My dad was standing with Mr. Miller, and Justin had gone over with the other boys without even thinking. So that left Sam and me standing in the no-man zone.

Just as I thought that, Sam sauntered across the room to join the other masculine beings, leaving me all alone. Luckily, in the blink of an eye, Sarah came over and silently stood next to me.

It must be an Amish thing, I decided. I wondered what everyone was waiting for until Mr. Miller bowed his head and said, “Let us have a moment of silent grace before our meal.”

Everyone in the room followed suit, and so did I, cheating a little bit when I glanced up with my eyes, without raising my head much, to spy on Noah. I quickly put my head back down after seeing he was staring at me with his eyes wide open and his head only partially bowed. I could have sworn, before I looked away, that he had grinned at me. The second of eye contact had caused all those bizarre feelings to stir up inside me again. I made sure to keep my eyes cemented to the floor for the rest of the prayer.

After a long minute, which seemed more like an hour to my grumbling belly, the family started moving about, indicating that prayer time was over. Mrs. Miller had the food laid out on the long counter and there was a glass of water at each place setting. Just as I was rocking on the balls of my feet, ready to head over to fill a plate, Sarah lightly grasped my arm. I gave her a confused look, which she returned with a friendly smile and a slight shake of her head.

Okay, now what was going on? I stopped, glancing around the room again. The men and boys were in line, from the oldest to the youngest, and the women—even the little toddler—were standing back, patiently waiting for the men to get their food first.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

This is like the Dark Ages, I grumbled inwardly, while my stomach growled. My blood began to boil when Sam bowed his blond, bushy head in a quick, silent laugh and winked at me with an evil grin on his face. I could see he and Justin were enjoying this backward thinking immensely. Dad, of course, was just going with the flow. Being an E.R. doctor, he was rarely fazed by anything, and ever since Mom had died, he just enjoyed doing things that kept his mind distracted—which this whole scene was doing perfectly.

Glancing back over at Sarah, I forced a smile.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

She nodded once and then faced forward again. I was envious of how calm she seemed. She wasn’t fidgeting or swaying or anything, just standing straight as a board, waiting as if she had no interest in the food at all. Maybe she had already eaten? I mean, how else could the women put up with this at every meal unless they snacked in the kitchen before the men arrived? I’d have to remember to ask her about it later.

I decided at that moment that Sarah and I were going to be good friends. It was nice of her to warn me before I made a fool of myself. She could have just as easily let me walk up in front of all the men and commit a major faux pas, but she didn’t. She warned me, making her best-friend material for sure in my book.

I breathed in and tried to look as casual as she was. It wasn’t working, though. I couldn’t keep my body from swaying back and forth from toes to heels, and my fingers wouldn’t stay still either. I watched Mrs. Miller, Katie, Rachel and even little Naomi stand like statues, wondering how the heck they were accomplishing it.

Once most of the guys were through the line, Mrs. Miller moved forward with Naomi, and I was allowed to get a dish with the other girls. Noah walked by me but didn’t even look in my direction—as if I didn’t exist. That irked me, but I wasn’t going to let it show.

I was starving by this time and resolved that I wasn’t going to be shy about eating. After a minute of being forced to leisurely stroll to the counter behind the other girls, I finally reached the source of the delightful smells. Wasting no time, I heaped two pork chops, mashed potatoes and creamy corn onto my plate. I also picked up two pieces of the thick, homemade bread and, to top it all off, a slice of cherry pie. Carefully, I turned and made my way to the table, pausing to see where I should sit.

Just as I expected, the men and boys sat on one side of the long table, and the women were seating themselves on the other side. Dad took the chair to the left of Mr. Miller, who sat farther down the table. I ended up taking the chair across from Noah.

Believe it or not, it wasn’t planned; just happened to conveniently work out that way. Or maybe it was a sign from the universe that the two of us were meant to get together. Either way, I was a happy little camper in my spot.

With so many people at the table, you’d think it would have been quite boisterous, but it wasn’t. The only sounds were the clinking of silverware on ceramic and the voices of Mr. Miller and Dad taking about all manner of things. The conversation started with the topic of the remodeling that our house needed. Mr. Miller offered to meet with Dad the following week to go through our lovely falling-apart home to give him an estimate for the work.

It turned out the Miller family had a building business, and I was secretly about to explode with excitement to hear the possibility that Noah might be spending a lot of time at our house this summer. Of course, he’d be working, but at least I’d get to see him, and that was better than nothing.

I tried to make eye contact with him during the meal, but he kept avoiding my gaze. He’d look over my head, out the window, down the table, but not at me. I was starting to wonder if I’d offended him earlier. I mulled that over while I took each delicious bite. The bread was especially yummy, and I was deliberating whether to get up in front of everyone and go for another piece, when I heard my name mentioned.