The Thorn (37 page)

Beth grew quiet; then she began to sniffle.

"You all right?"

Looking away, Beth wiped her eyes. "My daddy won't let me tell."

Tell what? Rose wondered, beginning to worry.

"That boy - the one who waved at you - is he your boyfriend?"

"No."

"He looks like - " Beth stopped.

"Who, Beth? Someone you knew in Illinois?"

"I'm not supposed to say."

"Well, I believe you're wrong about that. You can tell me anything," Rose said, gripping the reins and feeling terribly uneasy.

Beth was silent for a time. At last she said softly, "He reminds me of Tommy Walker."

"Is Tommy your friend?"

Nodding, Beth continued. "Daddy didn't want my boy to take me away from him. That's why we moved here. Daddy says it was for my own good."

"Was Tommy your boyfriend, ya mean?"

"We loved each other a whole bunch."

Rose did not know what to think. "Was Tommy nice to you?"

Beth said yes and wiped her face with the back of her arm.

"Your father brought you here to get away from a nice boy?"

"Daddy likes the Amish community - says it's a safe place for girls like me. That's why we lived in Arthur, too."

"Was the boy you liked Amish?"

"No, Tommy was from my school. He loved me, he said. And he wanted me to go away with him. Daddy caught us kissing one night and started making plans to leave."

"You must miss Tommy."

Beth sighed. "I'll never, ever forget my sweet Tommy."

"A girl never forgets her first love."

"Who's yours?" Beth asked, looking at her.

"Well" - Rose gave her a conspiratorial grin - "his name is Silas Good. But you can't tell anyone, all right?"

Beth's eyes widened. "A secret - like Tommy?"

"Not exactly the same way, no. But we Amish don't tell it around who we're seem' till it's closer to the time we get married."

Beth nodded, her eyes fixed on Rose. "Is that so no other boy can push his nose in and spoil things?"

Laughing softly, Rose said, "I guess you could say that."

"Well, if you love each other, then no other boy can come between you, right?" Beth said.

Rose considered that and found it to be quite profound. "Jah, I s'pose so." She felt that Beth had not only been separated from the physical world on some level, but also separated from life's sweetest moments. Lonely as she was, no doubt Beth was hungry for affection.

"Would you like to come to my house again?"

"If Daddy lets me."

"Well, maybe on Wednesdays, after I'm done with my work, I could bring you home with me sometimes."

"Goody!" Beth smiled so wide she showed her gums. "I hope so."

"Why don't you let me talk to your father about it, all right?"

Sitting straighter now, Beth agreed, then turned to watch the road. "Do you think I could ever learn to drive a horse and buggy?" she asked softly.

"Maybe, with plenty of practice."

"There's lots of things I hope to do ... one day."

"Hope is a wondrous thing."

"My aunt in Illinois - her name's Judith - she says I have to put wings on my hope, but I don't know how to do that."

Rose listened. "Your aunt sounds like an encouraging person.

"She has lots of time to write me letters every week."

"Why's that?"

Beth pressed her lips together tightly and looked away. "She never got married."

"Lots of women don't," Rose said. "One of my mother's sisters has stayed single her whole life."

"She's happy?"

"Sure."

Observing Beth's forlorn expression, Rose wished she'd never said a word about her beloved Maidel aunt. "I'm so glad your father brought you to visit me," she said as they pulled into the driveway.

Mr. Browning hurried out the door, coming to meet Beth, a relieved smile on his face. Beth stepped down out of the carriage and into her father's arms. "Oh, Daddy ... this was one of the best days of my whole life!"

Rose struggled to keep her emotions in check as she waved to the two of them. "Good-bye, Beth ... and thank you so much, Mr. Browning."

Rose awakened in the middle of the night with a sudden fright and stumbled across the room. Going to the nearest window, she raised the shade and looked out, anxious to see the bishop's farmhouse in the near distance. She had the strangest urgent need to talk to Nick. All week she'd suppressed it. Had she done the right thing by putting him off? The only difference in their relationship now was her courtship with Silas. Surely, if she revealed the reason to Nick, he would understand.

Standing at the window, she wished she might see a speck of light coming from Nick's upstairs bedroom. Was he awake, too, and looking back this way, wondering something similar?

Rose pressed her hand to her chest - she did not know what to do with this peculiar tugging on her heart. The days of obligatory separation from Nick felt nearly like a deception on her part. She hugged herself in the darkness, feeling as if part of her had been severed somehow. But wasn't that silly? Maybe these thoughts were merely part of the odd web of irrational notions the mind spun in the wee hours. Things could seem terribly skewed in the bleak hours before sunrise.

The thought of going without seeing Nick indefinitely - really seeing him, not just working alongside each other, but riding together and talking freely - rendered her almost unable to breathe. It was all she could do to keep from crying.

"But why ... why should I miss him so?" she whispered into the shadows.

During Rose's ride home from her Saturday afternoon visit to Aunt Malinda's, she happened upon Christian, who was kicking stones along the road as he walked away from his house. She slowed up the horse and waved, wondering why he looked nearly as down in the dumps as Nick had all week.

She was surprised to see him begin to run alongside the carriage as she passed. "I need to talk to ya, Rose!" he called.

"I'm late getting home," she answered, not interested in more of his nonsense about Nick. "I need to help with supper."

"Well, soon, then ... very soon," he shouted back. "Jah?"

Rose headed up Salem Road, hoping Christian might just forget and leave her be.

While tossing feed to the goats after supper, Rose kept telling herself there wasn't anything she could do for Nick. She must live her life and he must live his, even if it meant he went to the English side of things. What he chose to do was none of her concern. He has a free will . . . and he has not chosen the right way. It was not her place to pressure him to follow the Lord in holy baptism - if anything, it was the bishop and Barbara's. Yet they had failed to win him over.

Rose turned from the barn to go to the house, and there was Nick, standing under a tree, hatless, his back against the trunk and arms folded. He was staring at her, his long black hair pulled into its customary ponytail. "Nick ... what're ya doin'?"

He motioned to her. "Rosie ... I think we should go ridin'."

She disliked rejecting him again. Still, she needed to honor her commitment to Silas. "My beau could get wind of it," she said softly.

"What right does he have to pick your friends?" Nick said defiantly.

"Well, Nick" - and here she offered a smile - "it's not like you're one of my girlfriends, ya know."

He smirked good-naturedly. "Might as well be." He glanced at the sky. "Come on, Rosie ... while it's still daylight."

"I ... really shouldn't."

He ignored her remark. "Your knee's much better, ain't?"

It was, and had been for a while now. "Well..." She hesitated, though she still didn't feel it was right, not when Silas had been so clear about where he stood on the matter.

"There's something I want to show you in the ravine."

"You'd say just about anything now, jah?"

"Come and see - you won't be sorry." He left her standing there as he strode across the yard. "I'll meet ya up the way. Bring George; he's surest on his feet."

What was she supposed to do - leave Nick waiting out on the road?

"Hurry, Rosie," he called over his shoulder. "The ravine gets dark quick."

Why's he so taken with that place? She glanced over at the Dawdi Haus where Hen and Mattie Sue were staying. Hen easily could've seen her with Nick if she was anywhere in her kitchen. Rose could only hope her sister was resting upstairs.

Groaning, she made her way to the barn, up to the haymow, and found her old trousers. Quickly she pulled them on under her dress. Since she intended to be gone just a short while, she decided to take only the old lightweight shawl from the row of hooks in the stable.

She then removed her Kapp and left it on one of those same hooks.

George was ready and raring to go, and Rose wondered how on earth she could walk him past the house without being seen. So she took the long way around, through the meadow behind the barn, out of sight.

Carefully, Rose hoisted herself up. Forgive me this one last time, Silas. She also wondered if she shouldn't ask the Lord to forgive her, too.

"Let's go to the bottom of the hollow," Nick suggested as he and Rose rode side by side on the narrow strip of Bridle Path Lane. "Down by the crick."

"I despise this place," she said. "It's creepy."

"It's an adventure, Rosie."

"Well, I'm not comfortable here, are you?"

"Puh!" He blew air out of his mouth. "Don't ya know I'm the hobgoblin who lives deep in the ravine? The one the bishop's grandchildren talk about."

She shivered. "Don't make jokes 'bout that. Please ..."

"I'm kidding," he said. A shadow seemed to cross his face.

She'd noticed this happen before. "You look different sometimes, Nick."

"I'm the same fella you've always known." He stopped talking till they'd gone past Jeb Ulrich's ramshackle place. "Promise me you'll never, ever turn your back on me again."

His words stung her. "What do you mean?"

"All this week, you refused me."

"Nick, I told ya why."

"And you know what I said to that."

She sighed as she followed him down the craggy cliff, leaning forward on her horse, steadying herself with her knees. His black ponytail marked the way ahead.

"No one has any business interfering with gut friends," he said, directing his horse into the narrow gorge. "You know it, Rose Ann, and so do I."