easily forgotten. Don’t forget what I’m saying, son.” He aimed a steady look at me, narrowing his eyes.
He had noticed my attraction to Rose.
I glanced away from him and stared ahead, silently fuming. It wasn’t fair that I should finally meet a girl that I found captivating, and she had to be English. And my father was already telling me to stay away from her.
Damn, he was right, though, and I already knew it in my heart.
But then, why did it pierce my insides like a knife wound?
“Well?” Father pressed. He wanted me to tell him that I would never disobey him on this, but I would be lying. There was a war raging within me about this girl, but my fighting spirit had been roused by Father’s words. I wanted to see more of Rose and I was sure that I’d take every opportunity presented to do just that.
Before Father could badger me some more, Isaac ran around the side of the house, telling us the English had arrived. Luckily he spoke in our language and the neighbors wouldn’t understand. I wasn’t sure they would like being called English.
Father rose up and marched down the front steps, with me closely on his heels. As we rounded the corner of the house, the Cameron family was walking past the barn with Peter and Daniel escorting them. I could hear the clip-clop of shod hooves on the road and without looking knew that Jacob was returning with Katie.
My eyes immediately settled on Rose as she stepped along with a spring in her stride, close beside Sam. With relief, I noted that she wore dry jeans and a loose-fitting T-shirt that had a picture of a horse on it. Not only did she look about as modest as an English girl could, it appeared she liked horses, and that meant we had something in common. My heart skipped at the discovery.
And by the clothes that Rose had chosen, Mother couldn’t say anything negative about her either. I had secretly hoped that she would wear something that wasn’t too revealing—I wanted my family to approve of her, and that wouldn’t have happened if Rose had worn tight, inappropriate clothing.
As they approached, she lifted her eyes shyly at me. Odd that she was now acting a bit demure, I thought. But I was too distracted to dwell on the change by the long, wavy hair that was gently swirling around her face from the breeze, loose and free. She cleaned up very nicely, and looking at her made a rolling heat develop in the pit of my stomach. Feeling the growing discomfort in my body, I averted my eyes from her. Surely anyone observing me would see it plainly on my face.
I was not at all happy with myself for the reaction that this outsider whom I barely knew stirred within me, but when her eyes met mine briefly and then darted away like a rabbit spotted by the dog in the yard, I knew that I was truly smitten. Even though Rose had the spirit of a bear, there was something soft and vulnerable about her. My soul was tugged toward the English girl as if it knew that she needed me.
The realization was settling over me like a warm blanket just as Mother came out the back door with Sarah and Rachel. They moved to stand beside Father while tiny Naomi walked up to the neighbors, staring at them as if they were on exhibit at a zoo. Silence hung uncomfortably in the air for a second, until Dr. Cameron spoke up first.
“Thank you so much for inviting us over for dinner. It’s been a long, tiring day, and a home-cooked meal sounds wonderful.” He said it in a friendly manner, and I waited as Father introduced the rest of our family. When Jacob pulled alongside with the buggy, he presented Katie, as well.
I risked a glance at Rose and noticed she was staring at the buggy, her eyes wide with interest. I bet she’d enjoy riding in a buggy. Just how I was going to arrange something like that, I didn’t know. But I promised myself that I would take her for a drive eventually.
Up to that point, Rose hadn’t said a thing, except “hello” to my mother and sisters, and I suddenly realized that the English family was probably as nervous about this encounter as we all were. I couldn’t talk directly to her in front of my parents, but I was trying to think of something to say to Sam to break the tension, when Peter did it for me.
“Do you want to see our new puppies?” He directed the question mostly at Justin, who quickly nodded his head. The two broke from the group, running toward the barn.
Interestingly enough, Rose touched Sam’s arm and she turned to follow the boys, with Sam joining her. How odd that an hour ago in the cellar they were behaving as if they couldn’t stand each other and now in unfamiliar territory they seemed close.
I hurried to catch up to them, worried about what Mother must be thinking, seeing a girl go off with the boys. If Rose had been Amish, she would have joined my sisters. The fact that she had just chosen the boys worried me.
That was the problem with English girls—they did what they wanted.
But then again, maybe that was one of the things that made Rose so intriguing…and dangerous to me.
3
Rose
A New World
AS WE CROSSED the quaint little stone-and-white-fenced bridge, I worried about the way I was dressed. Lazy Sam had refused to go back and get my suitcase and instead had brought my duffel bag to the house, the only contents being the T-shirt and shorts I slept in, spare panties, flip-flops and an extra pair of jeans.
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
