Total pages in book: 178
Estimated words: 169578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 848(@200wpm)___ 678(@250wpm)___ 565(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 848(@200wpm)___ 678(@250wpm)___ 565(@300wpm)
“We Amish live a simpler life than you’re used to, but it’s a good life. You will see.”
Did he say Amish? Like buggies and Bibles and shit? Oh, hell no. She sat up and wiped her eyes. “Christian…” That was his name, right? “I think you got the wrong girl.”
“You’re the one. There’s no mistaking you for anyone else. You’re my true called mate.”
“What?”
“You’re a divination of God. He chooses the other half of our souls, and he chose you for me.”
Oh, this was bad. “You think I was chosen for you by some sort of divine intervention?”
“I know you were. I saw you in my dreams. We are one. Two halves of God’s perfect design.”
This was getting worse by the minute. She didn’t know how to reason with a crazy person. Should she play along or use logic? She decided to cut him off at the source. “But I’m agnostic.”
He stilled. “You can’t be.”
She leaned forward with wide eyes, unsure how to debate his outright refusal. “But I am.”
“No. We’re Anabaptist Christians.”
“There is no we. There’s you and then there’s me.”
He shook his head. “I will study the Bible with you and you’ll learn.”
Dear God… “You can’t force faith on other people.”
“No force. Enlightenment. You’ll see.”
“No!” she snapped. This wasn’t happening. “I’m me. I won’t change who I am. I’m not going to conform, no matter what you say or do. Do you understand me?” She never felt so passionately about religion, but her entire being felt under attack, and she had to salvage some part of herself. Jabbing a finger at her chest, she said, “You can’t change what’s deep inside a person.”
He frowned and cocked his head. “Agnostic. What does it mean?”
She could have been a hundred things. Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, a witch. No matter what she believed, it wasn’t his place to judge. “It means I’m nothing. I don’t believe in religion.”
He frowned. “Religion exists whether you believe in it or not.”
“Well, a person’s practice typically requires faith. You can’t force someone to believe in something they don’t.”
“Then how do you explain your being here.”
“Um, you kidnapped me.”
“Not here. But here—existing on this planet.”
Did he want the whole Big Bang Theory theme song? She sucked in a long breath and belted out, “Our whole universe was in a hot dense state then nearly fourteen million years ago expansion started—”
“Wait.” He held up his hand.
“Oh, you know it. Good. Then you get it.”
“I understand you’re different, Delilah. But I’m not sure you’re grasping just how special you are. You’re a miracle. My miracle.”
Maybe it would be best to save her energy until he went to sleep. There was no negotiating with terrorists and no reasoning with fanatics. “If I’m such a miracle, why are you trying to change me?”
“Not change. Refine.”
Yeah, because that was different.
He paced, his long legs eating up the length of the room in only a few strides. His rolled-up sleeves exposed the corded muscle that flexed as his fingers forked through his wavy brown hair. “I will not have a disobedient wife.”
“Whoa.” She scooted forward. “Wife?”
He faced her. “You’re my mate. Of course, we will marry.”
Her annoyance trumped her fear when he said dumb shit like that. “Uh, Christian, darling, you have to ask.”
He frowned, no longer pacing. “Pardon?”
“Marriage is another one of those pesky personal choices that can’t be dictated. You can’t force someone to marry you. You have to ask.”
His head cocked as if he never heard of such a concept. “Will you be my wife?”
“No!”
He drew back, his look of surprise comical. “But you’re my mate.”
“See, you say mate and I think Animal Planet. You’re not so good with the lady talk, Christian.”
“Mates are predestined partners. We only have but one for all eternity. I’ve waited lifetimes to find you. You’re my mate, Delilah. Marriage or no marriage, what we are to each other is bigger than any legal contract or vow. I’m not letting you go.”
She remembered an article she read in the last issue of Tat about how to deal with crazy, stalker exes, but her head hurt and she couldn’t concentrate with all the intrusive noise. For a farm, it was an ungodly loud place.
Insects chortled through the thin walls as animals brayed from every direction. Leaves rustled as if a hurricane were on its way. And her stomach was really starting to ache. She jammed her fist into her side and rubbed her brow.
Huh, that pimple finally went away.
“You’re hungry.”
As much as she despised the idea of accepting food from him, she needed to think and that meant getting something in her stomach. “Do you have crackers or something?”
“Crackers are what you crave?”
“I’ll take anything. How about an apple? Pop-tart? Something quick and small. I’m a vegetarian, so—”
“Delilah, sweet—”
“Unless you want me to call you one nut, please refrain from using the cutesy pet names. Especially ones that don’t fit me.”