A Rose Revealed (28 page)

I took a deep breath and leaped off into the unknown. “Then I’ll say it again now when I’m well and very aware.” I turned in my seat and looked directly at him. “I love you, Jacob Zook.”

Again that flash of something across his face.

“I’ll always love you,” I continued, “and I wish from the bottom of my heart that I could marry you. I wish you weren’t so stubborn. I wish you would consider what I feel and think instead of unilaterally deciding against marriage. But in the end it doesn’t matter what you decide because I can’t marry you any more than you can marry me.” I gave a quavery laugh. “We’ve come straight down a box canyon, and we’re up against an impregnable, immovable wall of granite. We’re trapped.”

Silence laced with myriad emotions ricocheted around the van. I was literally shaking and thoroughly surprised that the agonizing pain I was feeling didn’t fill the vehicle with shrieks and screams and banshee wails.

“Why?” Jake asked finally, quietly.

“Why what?”

“Why won’t you marry me?”

I looked at him with a wry half smile. “It’s okay if you won’t marry me but not if I won’t marry you?”

“Don’t play verbal games, Rose.” He glared at me. “Why won’t you marry me?”

“You won’t like my answer.”

He snorted. “I know your answer. I don’t believe. Right? Because I won’t agree that God will forgive me freely, you won’t marry me. And I thought the Amish were narrow!”

I squirmed under his disdain. “I’m sure it looks narrow to you, but that’s the way it is. Again, God gets to set the rules, Jake. I have to accept them. The Bible says we shouldn’t marry unbelievers. I may wish to overlook that because my heart is captive, but I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t and won’t.”

He clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead while I stared out the side window so he couldn’t see my pain. We were going down the first of the twin hills south of Honey Brook. We drove through the intersection where Jake’s accident had occurred. I saw my mother’s house off to the right and the field where Ben had supposedly thrown my ring. Then we were climbing the second hill and turning into her drive.

Jake looked at me, all traces of his anger gone. Instead he looked as forlorn as I felt. He reached quickly across the space between our seats and ran his finger down my cheek.

“I don’t know what’s going to become of us, Tiger.”

I blinked back my tears. “I don’t either.”

Chapter 15

J
ake charmed my mother just like I knew he would. By the time Lauren and Davy arrived, Mom was whispering all sorts of romantic encouragement to me just as if Jake was deaf as well as lame.

“He’s very handsome, dear, for a man who can’t walk. I’ve always liked them dark and brooding.”

“Shush, Mom! He’ll hear you.”

She just smiled and went to the kitchen to get a Coke.

Later when she thought Jake was reading the paper, she smiled at me and whispered none too softly, “He’s the best thing you’ve ever brought home, Rose. Certainly better than Ben. I bet Jake would never throw away a diamond ring.”

I refrained from telling her that neither would Ben.

The piece de resistance was offered when Mom and I went into the kitchen to check on the progress of the turkey while Jake remained in the living room with the recently arrived Davy and Lauren.

“Oh, my, Rose,” Mom said. “When he looks at you, the air positively smolders.” She sighed, clasping her hands to her heart.

I blinked and shook my head in amusement. “Mom, you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”

“You always were short of imagination, dear. Trust me; I know about these things.”

My critical daughter’s eye flashed Mom’s sterile life across the screen of my mind. She knew about these things? Before I could utter a nasty and thoroughly inappropriate comment, one I’d regret for years, the doorbell rang. I went quickly to answer, rolling my eyes as I went.

I froze with my hand on the storm door when I saw who was there. “Ben.” I managed a stiff smile and forced out, “Come in.”

He followed me into the living room where Mom, Jake, Davy, and Lauren waited. I made introductions.

Ben made a little bowing motion toward Mom, saying, “Mrs. Martin, how good to see you again.’’

Mom smiled stiffly, offering a carbon copy of my welcoming smile.

“You remember Jake, I’m sure,” I concluded.

“Of course he does, Tiger,” Jake said with a knowing grin. He stuck out his hand. “Good to see you again, Ben. How’s the fiancee?”

Ben looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“Why, Ben,” Mom said, suddenly relaxed, “what’s this about a fiancee? I take it congratulations are in order.” She patted Ben on the back.

Ben flushed and muttered something about thanks and she was a wonderful girl. Mom would like her.

“I’m sure,” Mom said. “Pure gold, I don’t doubt. Which makes me think, dear Ben. You had to buy another engagement ring, didn’t you? What a shame.” Trust Mom to stick in the shiv.

“Uh,” Ben said, ever quick on his feet. He turned to me. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Rose.”

“You knew I was here?”

He shook his head. “I thought I’d ask your mother for your address. By the way, I was glad to learn that you were still alive.”

Suddenly I was struck with a totally inappropriate urge to laugh. “While I was dead,” I said, unable to keep the humor out of my voice, “I bet you were relieved. Your little secret was safe.”

“Rose! How can you think such a thing?” He struggled to look appalled.

“Very easily. I’ve become a skeptic where you’re concerned.”

“Rose!” Mom said, genuinely appalled. “Where are your manners?”

“In the field across the street, Mom.” I couldn’t resist adding, “With the ring.”

Ben looked acutely uncomfortable.

“It was a lovely ring.” I said blandly.

“Quite beautiful,” Jake added helpfully.

“When Ben first bought it,” I explained to Lauren and Davy, “it was for me. I picked it out. I’ve always liked the design, the way the diamond was set.”

“What are you talking about?” Mom asked. “How would Jake know anything about your old ring?”

“What would you say, Mom, if I told you Ben never threw the ring away?” I watched Ben turn a violent crimson.

“He threw away a diamond ring?” Lauren asked, aghast.

“Nope.” I looked at Ben, trying to keep my grin from looking smug. “He never did.”

“Of course he did,” Mom said. “I saw him.”

That stopped me. “You saw him?” I turned to her, one eyebrow raised. I had always assumed that the humiliation and ugliness of that night were my private business. Mom only knew about things because I told her later. Apparently that was not the case. “You saw him?”

She cleared her throat and looked uncomfortable. “I just happened to glance out the window.”

“Mom, you were spying!”

Mom turned to Lauren to plead her case. “Imagine if you had a daughter,” she began. “Imagine if she was screaming at this man.”

“I was not screaming,” I protested.

Mom paid no attention. “She was screaming, and he was screaming right back. Wouldn’t you look to see what was going on? Wouldn’t you? If you loved your daughter and were concerned about her fate?”

Lauren looked wide-eyed at me, humor dancing just below the surface, but she wisely kept silent.

“My fate, Mom? You were concerned about my fate? What did you expect him to do? Slug me? Strangle me?”

“Well, anyway,” Mom said to Lauren, ignoring me again. “I just happened to look out the window and see him toss this diamond ring across the street into the field.”

Lauren was struggling not to laugh.

I shook my head. “Mom, the point I’m trying to make here is that he never threw the ring. He just pretended.”

“What?”

“He just pretended.”

At that point my greatest hope for Ben’s survival was that he never face my mother without a room full of witnesses to assure his continued well-being. Her face turned red, and her chest swelled three times its normal size. She strode up to Ben and planted her index finger in the middle of his breastbone.

“When I think of all the time I spent in that field looking for that infernal ring! When I think of what it did to my arthritis! My knees and back will never be the same! Of all the nerve! Ben Abrams, I’m ashamed of you!”

With every word she poked Ben hard, and she had great nails for poking, long, strong, and lethal. By the time she was finished, he looked pained and was rubbing his chest.

“But that’s not the best part, Mom,” I said. “He kept it and gave it to Allie Priestly.”

Mom gasped. “That terrible girl who took your place on the cheerleading squad?” She glared at Ben. “Well, you deserve the likes of her, and she—” Mom sniffed significantly. “She deserves a secondhand ring, if you ask me.”

I felt really good. My mother was actually standing up for me. I should have known she couldn’t let well enough alone.

“Stealing Rose’s boyfriend like that,” she muttered. “Allie always was untrustworthy.”

I rolled my eyes, Ben flushed crimson all over again, and Jake gave a delighted bark of laughter.

“Mom, Ben and I haven’t been an item for over two years. And I’m the one who broke up with him.”

Mom harrumphed again. Let us not allow logic to put a crimp in our anger.

Ben turned from Mom and looked at me. “I came to ask…”

His words trailed off, and he looked unhappily at all the avid eavesdroppers lining the room. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “I came to ask that you not tell Allie about the ring.” He ended up asking the floor.

I looked at his bowed head and wondered at my onetime attraction to him. I guess I’d have to chalk it up to youth. I glanced at Jake and caught him watching me with a grin of pure delight. Whether the delight was with me or the farcical situation, I didn’t care. It was just a joy to share it with him.

Ben cleared his throat, and I turned to him. “Ben, the last thing I’d ever stoop to is telling Allie about that ring. All that matters is that you two love each other and will be happy together. Honestly, the ring doesn’t bother me at all.”

He looked at me like he wasn’t certain whether to believe me or not.

“If Rose says she won’t tell, she won’t tell,” Mom said so loudly and emphatically that I jumped. “Now let me show you out, Ben. We’re having a late Thanksgiving here, and plans are being delayed by this conversation.”

Ben looked disconcerted as Mom inexorably led him to the door.

“Good-bye, Ben,” she said, all but pushing him down the front steps. “I hope you’re more honest with Allie than you were with us.” And she shut the door. She walked back into the room dusting her hands as if to say, “Good riddance.”

I grinned at her as I heard Ben start up his car, rev the engine, then back out of the drive with a roar.

“Thanks, Mom. You were great!” And I gave her a big hug. She hugged me in return, then patted me on the back and hurried into the kitchen.

I glanced at Jake, and he smiled at me. I walked over to stand beside him. Absently we watched out the window as Ben squealed his wheels, leaving a totally unnecessary strip of tire behind. He flew down Beaver Dam Road to the stop sign—and drove straight through. He roared across Route 10 without the slightest pause and sped away.

I stepped back as if I’d slammed into a brick wall. My hand went to my heart. I was back two years ago when he had roared away into the night in anger, the night someone ran that same stop sign in front of Jake and sent him into the skid that ended with his motorcycle on his back.

The blood roared in my ears and spots danced before my eyes. I was sure I would faint. I bent at the waist, lowering my head with a groan. I was vaguely aware that Jake placed himself between me and the rest of the room where Mom was now talking with Lauren and Davy.

Bands of anguish wrapped about my heart and squeezed the very breath from my body. No matter how much I longed to, I couldn’t avoid the truth. I had sent Ben away in anger two years ago. It was my fault he sped into the night. It was my fault he ran the stop sign.

I was responsible for Jake’s accident!

“No, Rose.” It was Jake, right beside me, his hand making comforting circles on my back. His voice was low and urgent. “You are not responsible. We don’t even know that Ben is. No one saw the car or who drove it clearly enough to identify him, not even me.”

I stared at him, my eyes wide with horror. “But I—”

“No, Rose. Even if Ben drove away full of anger, stop signs are still the law. Even if he were the one who ran it, it’s his fault, not yours.”

I listened and tried to believe, yearned to believe.

His eyes were intent and full of emotion. “Think about this, Tiger. Anyone who is cagey enough to pretend to throw away a ring is aware enough to stop at a stop sign.”

I stilled as that thought wrapped itself around my trembling heart. “He did pretend, didn’t he?” I straightened partway. “He was aware.” I felt the pain loosen its claws and the stirrings of something like hope.

“Rose,” Jake said softly. “Look at me.”

I did so.

“You are life to me, Tiger.” He gripped my hand. “You are hope and sunshine and all the good things I could ever think of. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

I put my arm about his shoulders and laid my cheek on his head for a brief moment. I knew what he said wasn’t true. I was hurting him just as he was hurting me even as we spoke, though not willfully. Nor with malice intended. And I knew what he was really saying with his lovely, poetic words. He was saying that he loved me.

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

He squeezed my waist and dropped his arm. I straightened and we turned to the room, smiles in place. Amazingly no one seemed aware that my world had stopped for an anguished instant or that Jake, my Jake, had had the understanding and wisdom to restart it. They included us in the conversation like nothing untoward had happened.

“When are you guys going shooting?” I asked a short time later.

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “Maybe we won’t go.”