The Thorn Part 20

"You're sure?"

"Totally smitten," said Hen.

"Can Rosie point him toward the church, do ya think?" Sol leaned down to remove his work boots on the porch.

"How determined is he to leave the People?"

"He's never said, but just look how he refuses to wear the traditional men's haircut. And I heard he picked a fight with a tourist in Quarryville on Monday, according to someone who witnessed it himself. Jah, I fear Nick's on his way out ... and sooner than any of us realizes."

Hen grimaced. "Unless Rosie stops him ..."

Stricken, Solomon said no more as they made their way into the kitchen for supper.

Rose never expected Nick to s.h.i.+ne his flashlight on her bedroom window that night, like a beau coming to propose marriage. But there he was all the same, and when she opened the window, he asked her to go riding with him.

"I ... don't know," she said, still holding her library book, Jane Austen's Emma.

"Is your knee better?"

"Well, jah ... quite a lot."

"We could go through the meadow, instead of taking the road." His voice was insistent. "I'll be careful with ya, Rosie."

Against her better judgment, she reluctantly agreed and closed the window. When she'd donned her warmest sweater over her dress, she put on her woolen shawl for good measure. Outside, she asked Nick to go to the haymow to get her britches. "My hiding place," she told him.

He seemed surprised. "You keep 'em in the barn?"

"Always have." Rose waited on the back porch for him to return. When he did, she went inside to pull the trousers on under her dress in the small room where her mother napped during the day. Rose felt tired enough herself to simply lie down on the daybed and fall asleep. She a.s.sumed it was all the reading she'd done and hoped the night air might perk her up.

Back outside, she let Nick help hoist her onto Pepper. Then he went around and slung his right leg forward over the horse, careful not to b.u.mp Rose. "Grab hold of me when we ride, all right?"

Rose agreed, glad she'd worn the britches, even though now Nick knew where she hid them.

"Are ya ready?" he asked.

She held lightly onto Nick's s.h.i.+rt. "Go slow, all right?"

"Nice 'n' easy," he said, directing the horse to move toward the gra.s.sy lane leading out to the bishop's field.

"Aren't we go in' to the high meadow?"

"We'll end up there."

The night was still ... the sky clear and dark. She wanted to enjoy this ride through the night. But Rose thought of her book and wondered if quick-witted and spoiled Emma Woodhouse was destined always to be a matchmaker and never a bride. Few young women Rose knew would've taken the same stance on marriage as that character. And yet, as she contemplated it, Rose realized she, too, had once nearly given up on ever having a husband, though for wholly different reasons.

Thankfully, Silas didn't forget about me, she thought as she watched the meadow rise to meet the sky over yonder.

"Your leg's doin' all right?" Nick asked over his shoulder.

"It's fine."

"Ready to try for a slow trot?"

"Thought ya said we were going to dawdle."

"Well, must we go this slow?" Clearly, he was itching to increase Pepper's pace.

"All right, but just a little."

Nick clicked his tongue and the horse moved into a trot. Taken off guard by Pepper's quick movements, Rose lost her grip on Nick's s.h.i.+rt and began to slide. "Oh!" she cried out.

Nick reached behind him and caught her left arm, then halted the horse. "I got ya ... you're all right."

"You scared me half to death!" she said, catching her breath and getting situated again. Nervous now, she wondered if it wouldn't have been wiser to remain home, burrowed in with Miss Emma Woodhouse.

"Now," said Nick, "try wrapping your arms around me instead."

How unladylike!

Nick didn't wait even a moment for her to dispute it before they were off again. She had to grab hold of something, since she was lurching out of control with each jog of the horse. So Rose did as Nick suggested, holding tightly around his middle as he trotted the horse ever closer to a gallop.

All at once she began to feel much steadier - safer, too. She was keenly aware of Nick's strength. What freedom, riding this way! Never before had she felt so unfettered, yet also truly connected to someone. No, not just someone ... her best friend.

Does Nick feel it, too?

Rose had to suppress the wild and enlivening sensation that rolled through her as they rode through the darkness together. It was akin to the first time she'd leaped off the long tree branch and let herself fall helplessly into the swimming hole below ... disappearing into the muddy waters, over her head with happiness. Her whole body had seemed nearly weightless that day as she swam toward Nick - completely at one with the water, the hot sun, and her own body.

Just as she felt now.

But no. She couldn't let herself think this way. She was Silas's girl, not Nick's. In fact, she could never be anything more than Nick's friend.

Rose tensed up just then, her arms turning stiff.

Nick slowed the horse, quickly bringing Pepper to a halt. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'."

"You don't fool me, Rosie." He got down and held out his arms to a.s.sist her. "You need to rest, maybe."

She let him help her down, easing carefully onto her feet. Quickly, he removed his black work coat and insisted she sit on it. "I'm not an invalid," she said as she stood there looking down at it. "Besides, it's starting to get cold."

"Just sit for a spell ... won't ya?"

From his tone, she realized he had something on his mind. She knew him too well.

But suddenly he was walking away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets. He stared at the sky, his hat and head a shadowy silhouette.

Slowly, she lowered herself down onto his coat, her legs stretched out in front of her on the cold ground. Cus.h.i.+oned only by the coat and its flimsy lining, Rose felt sure he was going to tell her something dreadful. "I'm here, Nick ... listening," she said.

He turned, pausing before coming back to meet her. Then, sitting on the bare ground next to her, he said, "I've been makin' trips into town."

"Quarryville?"

"Farther." He leaned back on one hand. "To the edge."

The edge?

"Never heard of that. Where is it?"

"I hoped you'd ask," he said quietly, his face alight. "Just this side of the city of Lancaster. It's what I call the line between the Amish and the English worlds - like the modern life I came from."

She took that in, feeling befuddled. "Sounds like something you could fall from, like a precipice." Just saying the word reminded her of the dreaded ravine with its jagged outcroppings.

"It's only imaginary." He sighed, removed his hat, and placed it on his leg. "Have you ever been as far north as the bypa.s.s around Lancaster, Route 30?"

"No ... too fast for a horse and buggy."

"Sure, it's fast - and dangerous." His robust chuckle lifted to the sky. "I want you to see it sometime."

"Why, Nick? This is our world ... all the tranquil miles of farming land are what I love." She sighed. "I can't picture anything else."

"That's exactly it," he continued. "If you don't ever go beyond what ya know, how can you choose?"

"I don't have to. I joined church years ago."

Abruptly, he stopped talking.

"I'm Amish, Nick. And so are you ... it just hasn't dawned on ya yet."

They sat there in the darkness without speaking for a moment. Then, when she was certain he was put out with her, he said, "I'm looking into borrowing a car."

"Oh, Nick," she groaned.

"Please listen." His voice was softer, almost tender. "You're my only friend...."

She looked at him, wis.h.i.+ng for some light to see his face better.

"I'll take you through the whole city. You can see how the fancy folk live - the way I used to ... before the bishop plucked me away."

"You already know how to drive a car ... is that what you're sayin'?"

He admitted he could.

Rose s.h.i.+vered at the thought. "Why don't ya tell me about the city instead ... spare me going and lookin' clear over on the worldly side of things?"

He studied her. "Before I came here, I lived with my mother on the third floor of a brick row house for ten years."

"A row house?"

"It's connected to two other houses exactly like it - the whole block's a string of houses. Sometimes there are alleyways running between them, every two houses. But there's no place on the street to park a car."

"Must be awful crowded." And horrible, she thought. "I'd never be able to breathe."

"Well, the city's more than just that. Think of the most exciting place you've ever been and multiply it by one hundred. Movie theaters, restaurants, and bowling alleys, too. Lots of fun things to do." His eyes found hers. "You can see them for yourself if you go with me."

"But I'm happy here - Dat's farm's the most exciting place I know." She was shocked at his fascination with all of this, because he'd always seemed so at home in the country. In the wild.

"Aw, Rosie." He leaned his head close to her shoulder. "Promise me you will ... sometime."

She was astonished and so cold she was s.h.i.+vering. "I won't promise anything of the kind!"

The ride back was not nearly as exhilarating as before, even though Rose clung to Nick and pressed her left cheek against the middle of his back. She felt like a sinner being so close to someone who craved the outside world, yet she wanted to be near him while she still could.

Soon they came to a stop near her father's woodshop. Rose didn't bother to thank Nick for suggesting the ride or for helping her down, neither one. Rather, she reminded him about sc.r.a.ping and painting Gilbert Browning's porch. "Tomorrow morning, remember?"

"I won't forget," he muttered.

Wanting to cry, she shuffled across the yard toward the house.

Then he was behind her, running after her. "Ach, Rosie ... don't be mad." He turned her around and she lost her balance, falling right into his arms. "I wouldn't have told ya if I thought you'd be so upset."

She pushed away, yet he still held her hands. "How could I not be, Nick? How?"

He touched her face with the back of his hand. "I've always told ya things. You know that."

She nodded. "We've shared too much all these years, maybe," Rose whispered, a tear escaping.

"How can that be? That's what friends do, ain't?"

She felt his fervor in his grip and realized that now he was the one holding on to her for dear life. She'd been a part of nearly every boyish thing he'd ever wanted to do over the years - including riding double on Pepper. And she'd shared with him almost all of her thoughts, too.

He asks so little of me....

"Just think about it, won't ya?"

"I s'pose thinkin' might not hurt anything," she said softly.

Slowly, he released her. "There's something more...." He paused and looked up, staring at the sky. "I'd like to see my mother's grave.

Rose knew he hadn't received word of his mother's death in time to travel to Philadelphia for the funeral.

"And I want you to go with me."

Past the edge, she thought.

"Why didn't you say so?" Rose was the one reaching for him now, her hand on his arm. "Is this what you meant, then, earlier? Instead of all that talk 'bout the modern city life?"

He shrugged.