Читать книгу Temptation - Karen Hopkins Ann - Страница 8

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Rose

Wide-Awake

HOLY CRAP. I watched the churning water rush over the driveway and back into the swollen creek bed. I’d never seen anything like it before, and from the look of incredulity on Dad’s face, neither had he.

Sam and Justin, on the other hand, were enjoying the bizarre scene, wading knee-deep into the current with their street clothes on, splashing each other like maniac dolphins. Actually, now that the storm had passed and the sun was peeking its way out from behind the fluffy clouds, it was beginning to feel like a sauna, and I was seriously thinking about joining my brothers.

“We shouldn’t try to cross this with the truck yet. It’s still pretty high,” Dad said, almost to himself, his fingers playing with his mouth. He continued to survey the obstacle placed directly in the middle of the long, winding driveway leading to our new house.

New was definitely not the right word for the house. I guess “recently acquired historic relic” would be more appropriate for the three-story brick monstrosity on the other side of the raging creek that until a few days ago when we closed on the deal was no more than a lazy trickle.

My dad, who’d decided he wanted to raise his kids in the country, uprooting us from our comfortable suburban house in Cincinnati to move to middle-of-nowhere Ohio, was getting a good dose of country reality. I wondered if he was regretting it. Seeing the distressed look on his face right then, I think he was.

I sighed, wishing Mom were here with us. Then it would all be okay. But she was six feet under, buried in the cold, dark ground of Mount Hope Cemetery. If she were still alive, Dad would never have taken the stupid job as head of the E.R. in this forgotten place, and we wouldn’t be standing here, trying to figure out a way to cross what looked like a small river to get to our house.

My life had been so blissfully ordinary before Mom had died. It was all gone now, just like the churning water rampaging over the driveway, disappearing into the abyss of overgrown grass and weeds on the other side. And there was nothing at all I could do about any of it, except watch it disappear—and maybe cry, which I’d been doing a lot of lately. Fortunately, I was getting used to that feeling of helplessness. I had no control over my life, and it seemed as if no one else did either. It was just an illusion, thinking that we could master our pathetic little worlds. The forces of nature, whether they were Mom’s cancer or the flood rushing by my feet, were beyond my command, and they could steal all the happiness away in a heartbeat.

Up until now, I’d put on a pretty good poker face about everything, from this insane move to the boondocks, to Mom’s five-month-long battle with the illness that changed and distorted her body before my very eyes. When the end came, there wasn’t much left of her, except the brittle and weak shell of her former vibrant self.

It was strange how in that moment of tragedy, it had seemed so unreal, like an old-fashioned movie reel playing on a screen for my eyes only. The pain and broken heart were blocked off for a little while, leaving me numb with disbelief. Shock is what Dad called it. But after a while, the cruel reality started to seep into my tissues, and my body became a sponge, just sucking it all up until, finally, there was so much grief inside, I couldn’t help feeling it.

That’s how it happened for me. First, the numbness right after she died, next the agonizing pain and then the place I was at now—the land of perpetual depression. And to top it all off, I had to pee very badly. How wonderful. Staring at the rushing water wasn’t helping the situation either. Crossing my legs over, I ground my teeth together in discomfort.

“I’m glad Jerry wasn’t planning to bring your horse today. I just hope by tomorrow he can get the trailer through here,” Dad said as he walked by me to the moving truck.

“You’ve got to be kidding—surely the water will be down by then?” I half questioned and half demanded of my father. About the only thing that made this stupid move bearable was that I was looking forward to having Lady, whom I’d boarded at the J & R Stables for the past two years, finally home with me. Even if home was in the flooded sticks. Geez, this is just unbelievable, I thought, watching Sam and Justin slapping the murky water back and forth at each other.

Dad appeared from the cab of the truck and held out a water bottle for me. I vigorously shook my head and said, “I need to go to the bathroom, Dad. I’m going to walk through the water and go to the house. Are you with me?”

“Yeah, here, let me hold your hand. Your brothers haven’t been swept away, but they’re bigger than you.”

Dad grasped my hand and together we waded out into the ice-cold water. It was pretty yucky, too, completely brown and thick with mud and debris. By midway across, it was past my knees, and the water was pushing on us. Not enough to drag us down or anything like that, but I still grasped Dad’s hand tighter. Within a minute we dragged out of the water on the other side, soaking wet but one step closer to the bathroom. I hurriedly made my way up the driveway, leaving Dad behind.

I glanced back over my shoulder to see the barbarians, Sam and Justin, splash through the water like a pair of moose and hit the dry ground running. Of course, they passed by me with ease. How could they run in wet jeans like that? I gave it a quick try, and after two strides, and nearly falling on my face, decided to walk at a normal speed. I knew my limitations.

When I finally reached the rickety old front porch, I smiled smugly at the dorks who were both standing there without a way to open the door. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the key, dangling it in front of them. In an instant I was tackled to the ground by Sam, whom, being a year and half older than me and a football player, I was no match for. He jumped up, flicking his wrist with the keys inches above me. A smile of righteous triumph looked down at me from his face. A face that the arrogant jerk thought was good-looking, with his wide-set sky-blue eyes and Hollywood nose, topped off with a bushy head of unruly golden hair. At six foot two and well muscled, he was way too big for a seventeen-year-old. Sam never lacked for female attention.

It wasn’t fair. Even my cute twelve-year-old brother, Justin, who could have been my masculine twin in coloring and facial features, was bigger than me now. I had no chance at all to win any physical matches with either of them anymore—just reinforcing my theory that the world sucked.

“Hurry up, Sam. I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” I bounced around in place while he fumbled with the key, finally getting the door unlocked. Instead of being able to just open the door like any normal house, it took all three of us to push the stubborn, solid piece of aged wood loose of its frame. When it finally swung open, scraping across the wooden-plank floor, I was through it in a flash, running to the back of the house where I remembered the only bathroom to be. I could just hear my dad complaining that he hadn’t noticed a problem with the door before, when I turned in to the bathroom.

I felt much better when I stepped out into the foyer a few moments later. Until I saw Justin pulling the decades-old spinach-green wallpaper off the plaster as if he was unwrapping a Christmas present.

“What the heck are you doing?” I nearly shouted.

“Hey, look, it’s just coming off. You hardly have to pull the stuff. Isn’t it cool?” Justin said in an excited voice while he continued to strip a section of the wall off in spastic motions.

“Stop it, Justin! It looks even worse now,” I yelled, grabbing his arm, which immediately turned into another wrestling match I would undoubtedly lose in the end.

“Quit it, both of you—now!” Dad appeared out of nowhere, attempting to push his body between us. I was more than willing to stop, but the little jerk had a clump of my long hair in his fist, and until he let go, I wasn’t going to release his ear.

“I mean it…really, you’re behaving like little brats.” Dad had reached his boiling point. I could tell by the way he said brats, as if he was describing two small children who’d just knocked over his favorite vase.

Just as I was getting ready to free Justin’s ear, I heard a loud clearing of a throat from the screen door. We all stopped moving, and simultaneously Justin and I both let go. The three of us turned to the doorway to see an Amish man, with a long, funky chestnut beard, standing there with a look of what could only be called wide-eyed bewilderment. He was wearing a dark blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to the beginning of his well-defined muscles. The black suspenders were odd, as were the old-fashioned-looking pants he was wearing. Something about the man commanded attention, though, and I straightened up further as his eyes passed over me quickly.

“I am your neighbor, Amos Miller. I thought I would come by with my sons to offer you assistance getting settled in…if you need it.” He said it in a relaxed and placid way, directing all his attention to my father, who briskly crossed the floor and opened the door for the visitors.

“Oh, how nice of you, Amos. Ah…I’m David Cameron and this is my daughter, Rose, and one of my sons, Justin.” Dad stopped to look around and then went on, “My other son is Sam, and he’s here somewhere. I’m not sure where at the moment.”

Poor Dad—how embarrassing to be caught breaking up a fight between his kids the first time he meets his new neighbors, and Amish ones at that. Dad had already informed me that we would have interesting and eccentric neighbors here in Meadow View, but this was the first time I’d been so close to any Amish people. My heart started to drum faster when my eyes met and locked on the gaze of the boy standing a little behind and to the side of Amos.

Well, he wasn’t a boy; more like a young man. Amazingly, he was as tall as Sam and as well built—probably the same age, too. His hair was wavy and dark, poised on his head like on one of those European statues of the men with hardly any clothes on. You know, a little on the wild side, but still looking totally perfect. A bit of bronze streaks gave the locks a brindle effect that shone in the soft spray of late-afternoon sunlight coming through the screen door. The hair matched his warm, almond-colored eyes perfectly.

And for the first moment in a very long time, the world didn’t appear entirely in the muted, hazy color of doom. As a matter of fact, it seemed to have brightened considerably in the foyer when it sunk into my hardened brain that he was really cute—like Abercrombie & Fitch poster-guy cute—with his full, curving lips and sculpted nose and cheekbones.

I suddenly became conscious of the fact that I was standing in front of him soaking wet, muddy, with my hair in wild disarray. I could even feel a large portion of the strands sticking out from my head where Justin had pulled them. Figures, I finally meet a guy who makes my heart skip a beat, and I look like the Bride of Frankenstein.

He was appraising me from head to toe with interest in his eyes, subtle, but interested. I wasn’t surprised by his examination of me. I was used to guys checking me out. I discovered three years ago, when I turned thirteen and started to develop little bumps on my chest, that the opposite sex found me attractive. I had been blessed with a slender, athletic body and curves in all the right places. I’d let my thick, acorn-brown hair grow long enough to reach the top of my butt, which guys seemed to appreciate. And on more than one occasion, some member of the male species would tell me how pretty my light blue eyes were. I found it all pretty embarrassing, especially since every time I looked in a mirror, I still saw the same skinny girl with a mouthful of braces that I used to be.

The thing I wasn’t used to, though, was the way this Amish guy looking at me was affecting my body. As if it had just come out of a deep hibernation—all the fluttering and tingling vibrations that were now popping up in the center of my belly were spreading out, letting me know that I really was alive, after all the troubles of the past year.

Hmm…maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, David.” Amos extended his hand and Dad grasped it in a friendly way, which was usual for my dad. “These are my sons Jacob and Noah.” He nodded in turn toward the two young men with him. I hadn’t even noticed the other one, probably because he stood directly behind his father with his eyes lowered, not looking at me at all. Almost rudely, I thought at first, but then it occurred to me that maybe his brother Noah was the rude one. He was still staring at me as if he’d never seen a girl before, only now a slight smirk touched his mouth. I liked his eyes, but I didn’t like the tilt of his lips, and I averted my gaze from his as Sam came bounding into the foyer covered in cobwebs.

“You should see how creepy the cellar is! There were actually some animal bones…” His voice trailing off, he was clearly surprised to see the Amish guys standing there.

“Well, we’ve found Sam. Sam, these are our new neighbors.” Dad motioned over at the guests with an impatient sweep of his hand, and Sam went forward automatically to shake their hands like a well-trained doctor’s son.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sam said in the courteous voice he didn’t use much and definitely never used with me.

“What kind of bones do you think they are?” Noah asked curiously. For the moment, he’d lost interest in me, sending a ripple of irritation through my body. But I had gotten to hear his voice, and it was deep and sexy.

“Don’t know. Do you want to see ’em?”

Noah glanced at his father, who nodded once, and then he answered my brother. “Sure, let’s go.”

That’s just great. Within two minutes, fun-loving, happy-go-lucky Sam had made a friend—a gorgeous friend whose eyes made my stomach do flips. And even though I was cold and uncomfortable in my wet clothes, I decided to follow the boys and see what the fuss was all about in the cellar. The opportunity to spend more time with my hot neighbor had nothing to do with the trip underground, I told myself as I hurried to catch up.

We started down the crumbling rock steps, and Sam hit the switch, lighting the only bulb I could see. It was one of those scary dangling bulbs that are in all the horror movies. A chill ran through me, and I didn’t think it was just because of the wet clothes. It would be my luck that the house was haunted on top of everything else.

The last step was more like a two-foot drop, and Noah, who was right in front of me, stopped and looked back, offering his hand to help me down. Wow, this was a new experience for me, a guy actually being chivalrous. I spent way too much time with my Neanderthal brothers, I decided. Slipping my hand into his warm, strong grip, I made my way down the last step.

When I reached the floor, he held my hand captive for a few seconds longer than was necessary, sending major goose bumps along my arm. I glanced up at him, and when my eyes met his, he let go. As quickly as he had given his full attention to me, he shifted it back to Sam, following my brother deeper into the sooty darkness.

The cellar could have just as well been a New York sewer, as damp and murky as it was. I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to warm myself in the nasty environment while I lightly stepped over the hard-packed dirt floor. The one little lightbulb only illuminated the area right below it, and the farther reaches of the room—and it was big—were inky black, except for a few shards of light slicing through the darkness from cracks in the rock foundation. I wasn’t an expert, but the cracks were probably not a good thing. Another part of the house Dad must have missed.

The light, sticky touch of something on my neck and face made me shriek, and I grabbed at it, swatting it away with my fingers in a panicked motion. Realizing it was a giant spiderweb, I wondered where Charlotte was—probably crawling around in my hair. Frantically, I plucked the rest of it off me, shaking my head vigorously.

“You okay?” It was Noah and he crossed the few feet back to me. I was happy that he was focused on me again, but I felt pretty stupid reacting like that to a cobweb.

“Fine. I’m fine. It’s just that I can hardly see anything down here and—ugh, spiderwebs are just nasty.” I looked up at his shadowed, almost-obscured face. I felt the flutter in my stomach again.

“Come on, Rose, don’t be such a—girl!” Sam admonished me, and for once I kind of had to agree with him.

There was a minute of silence while Sam searched the ground, using his cell phone’s dim light before he kneeled down on the dirt floor and announced, “Here they are, in the corner.”

Noah went to join Sam at the skeleton. With my hands out in front of me, trying to catch any more of the webs before they touched my face, I moved up behind them and peeked over their shoulders. As far as I could see, which wasn’t much in the limited light, Sam had made a big deal out of nothing. It was just a small animal. But then I hoped there weren’t any critters lurking around upstairs that I’d have to deal with in the middle of the night.

“Looks like an opossum to me,” Noah said, picking the skull up and holding it toward the lightbulb for a close inspection. “It’s pretty old, though. I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

“Ahhhhhhh!” came a nerve-shattering scream behind us, and I nearly jumped out of my wet skin. Even Noah and Sam bolted up, whirling around to see Justin doubled over, laughing hard.

He was so full of himself, he could barely speak, but he managed to spit out, “That was too easy—you bunch of girls!”

As I breathed a sigh of relief, Sam, in a snakelike movement, grabbed Justin and put him into a choke hold in two seconds flat—nothing new there.

“You little shit—just wait till the next time you’re alone,” Sam threatened.

“Boy, you guys are really violent,” Noah observed with humor in his voice.

My brothers and I must seem like the equivalent of a rerun of Jersey Shore to this gentle guy, I thought, wanting to step back into the darkness and hide from embarrassment.

“Hey, you all come up here.” It was my dad, and following the sound of his call, I briskly walked toward the stairway, all too happy to get out of the dark and bony cellar and away from the ridiculous behavior of my brothers.

As I led the way, Noah was close behind me, and I was extremely aware of his proximity. It was as if my body’s nerve endings were on fire or something. I was only slightly distracted from this feeling by the sound of Sam and Justin scuffling behind us as we walked up into the outdated powder-blue kitchen.

Dad was standing there alone, fiddling with the faucet on the yellow-stained porcelain sink. Lifting his eyes, he said, “Mr. Miller was kind enough to invite us for dinner, kids. I looked out the front window a minute ago. The water has receded some, but since it’s getting late, we’ll just grab a few things from the truck tonight and unload the rest in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan, Dad,” Sam said, still holding Justin’s neck in a vise grip, grinning broadly.

“Let go of him, Sam—and since you seem to have so much energy, why don’t you wade back across the driveway and bring our suitcases to the house. Better yet, Justin, you go help him.” His voice resembled a growl. Then, changing his tone back to “friendly doctor,” he told Noah, “Your dad said for you to head back home right away to finish mowing.”

I watched closely as Noah ever so slightly rolled his eyes and sighed. Suddenly, he seemed more like my brothers or any other teenage guy not wanting to do the yard chores. And that little bit of familiarity made me brave. “I guess cutting the grass is a lot of work for you?” I said, imagining Noah surrounded by tall green foliage and hacking away at it with an old-fashioned hand sickle.

Noah’s eyes jumped back at me, startled, and I felt a twinge of worry that I shouldn’t have spoken to him, but he regained his composure quickly and replied, “Actually, the large deck push mower I use is gas powered and makes the job fairly easy. It’s just boring as all get-out, though.” He said it to all of us, but his eyes lingered on me for a few long seconds, his mouth twitching slightly, as if he was holding back a smile.

I was shy again and muttered, “Oh,” not knowing what else to say.

“I’ll see you later,” Noah said in a rush, before he turned and followed Sam and Justin out the door.

The second the door closed, I ran to the front window and watched as my brothers strolled leisurely toward the truck. But I wasn’t really paying attention to them at all. Instead, the image of my new neighbor played over and over in my head.

Nibbling on my pinkie nail, I couldn’t help saying a silent prayer—God, please let the shower work.

Temptation

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