Karen Hopkins - Temptation

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.